Chaos Theory in Vortex Orbits in Relative Dimensions in Time and Space (20/27)
Title - Chaos Theory in Vortex Orbits in Relative Dimensions in Time and Space (20/27)
Author --
earlgreytea68
Rating - Teen
Characters -- Ten, Rose, Jackie, Mickey, OCs
Spoilers: Through the end of S2.
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make money off of them, but I don't like to dwell on that, so let's move on. (Except for Brem and Athena. They're all mine.)
Summary - And then there came a day when Rose said she was having a baby. Hijinks ensue from there.
Author’s Notes - The icon was created by
punkinart , commissioned by
aibhinn , who graciously offered it to me for my use.
Many, many thanks to
jlrpuck , who is always an excellent beta. Even if her memory's a mess. Many thanks also to Kristin-who-won't-get-an-LJ, who brainstormed this fic with me endlessly, and
bouncy_castle79 , who gave it the first major outside-eyes read-through.
Ch.1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11 - Ch. 12 - Ch. 13 - Ch. 14 - Ch. 15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 - Ch. 18 - Ch. 19
Chapter Twenty
The baby grew. Rose would lay awake at night, one hand resting on the gentle swell of her stomach, one hand holding up her Time Lord mood pendant, which had begun to come to life again as a slightly telepathic being came to life inside of her. Owen reported on the science of it to her, on the triple helix of the DNA, on the two strong hearts, on the fact that it was a female. Oh, all of that science was comprehensible and made sense and she was glad that things were going so well. But she worried about the non-science things. She worried about her slightly telepathic little girl, with no slightly telepathic being around her to read her moods or feed her moods to read. Would she never figure out how the telepathy worked, without the Doctor there to learn from? Would she ever learn anything, without the Doctor? Sure, it was one thing to tell your child that she was this special, remarkable species, but if she never knew what it was like to travel through space and time, then what difference would it make to her? It was really just talk, wasn’t it?
Rose worried incessantly about these things.
She worried incessantly about other things, too, of course. Did the Doctor brush Athena’s hair properly? It could get so unwieldy if not brushed properly. Did he sit and play with her dolls with her? Or did he try to force her to tinker instead? Did he watch Brem to make sure that Brem didn’t try to do too much, be too strong, do too much denying? Or was he too in denial himself to watch out for the kids?
She was terrified of what could be going on without her. She tried not to think of it, but it was impossible. She tried not to be depressed, for the baby’s sake, but every morning she got out of bed took an act of willpower that astonished her. As worried as she was about everything else, she was worried about herself as well.
“Rose!” her mother called one day, when Rose was already far enough advanced in her pregnancy that she was being slowed to a waddle. Months kept ticking by, she thought, sitting in the conservatory listening to her mother call for her, and there was no word from the Doctor, only silence and stillness. Sometimes she could have thought she’d dreamed him, if she didn’t have a huge abdomen that she owed to him.
“There you are,” her mother said sunnily, entering the conservatory, and Rose tried to smile at her. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Listen.” She practically bounced her way across the room, holding a small package to her, and then fiddled for a bit with the stereo. Music suddenly filled the air.
Rose tipped her head, and a slow smile spread over her face. “Is this Ian Dury?”
“I’m right, aren’t I? The Doctor listened to him, didn’t he? I remember him babbling about Ian Dury’s brilliance when I asked him to play Christmas music that time. I looked all over for it for you, Rose, turns out Ian Dury wasn’t a big hit in this universe. But I thought it would help you feel a bit better.” Her mother sat next to her, studying her worriedly.
Rose kept her smile on her face, although the effort ached. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a brilliant gift, I love it.”
“Do you, though?” Jackie asked, anxiously. “I know you’re worried about the baby, growing like this, without the Doctor. So I thought maybe we could make an effort to surround her with Doctor-y things. Like the music he liked. Maybe we could try to find the books he read, would that help?”
“You talk about him in the past tense,” said Rose.
Her mother blinked. “I what?”
“Like he’s dead. I know you can’t help it, it’s probably healthier, it’s just…I always present-tense him in my mind. That’s probably not a good thing.”
“Oh, Rose,” she said, and smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought the music would make you happy.”
“It does. Oh, it does. My hormones are all a mess, you know. I try to laugh and I cry.”
“I’m sure he…he’s…” Jackie trailed off helplessly, because she had no idea what to say.
“I’m just tired of missing them, Mum,” said Rose, wearily, leaning her head back. “So tired. I thought, after Bad Wolf Bay…I mean, why would the bay be called ‘Bad Wolf’ unless it’s supposed to mean something?”
“But what does ‘bad wolf’ mean?” asked Jackie, perplexed.
“It’s…It’s a sign. It’s a link between me and the Doctor. A sign that I can reach him. The words ‘bad wolf.’ They followed us through space and time so I would know that I could get back to him. So why would the breach come out at Bad Wolf Bay unless…? I just keep thinking that and thinking that and I’m wondering if I’ll still be thinking it when I’m 85.”
“How can two words be a sign, Rose? How can they follow you? It doesn’t make sense.”
Rose smiled sadly. “I know. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. He used to read Dr. Seuss to the kids, before they were born. Do they have Dr. Seuss in this universe, do you know? I’d like especially to read her Green Eggs and Ham. It’s my favourite.”
“We’ll see about Green Eggs and Ham,” said Jackie.
“Thank you so much for Ian Dury. Really.”
Jackie squeezed Rose’s hand. “Oh, any time.”
**********************
It wasn’t the sort of thing she felt comfortable broaching with Pete. Pete took his role as head of Torchwood very seriously. He was always careful not to give an impression of favouritism toward Rose, and Jackie knew that if she asked him a Torchwood-related favour, he’d hesitate. There was nothing else Pete wouldn’t give her if she asked, but she didn’t think he’d give her Torchwood.
So she went to Mickey. It was easy to hide the visit from Rose, who was now bedridden in the final stages of her pregnancy, reading endless amount of Dr. Seuss to the unborn baby. Dr. Seuss had been even more prolific in this universe, which she still found hard to believe. Rose was enjoying discovering the new stories. It was harder, however, to hide the visit with Mickey from Pete. They met for a furtive cup of coffee in a generic coffee bar near where Mickey lived, on a Saturday afternoon when Mickey wasn’t working but Pete was.
“So,” said Mickey, after they’d settled with coffees. “This is weird. You’re makin’ me nervous. I’ve never known you to ask any guy to coffee…innocently…” Mickey finished, lamely.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Jackie.
“Nothing,” Mickey denied, quickly, and took a sip of his coffee, which was far too hot and scalded his mouth although he pretended it didn’t.
Jackie frowned a bit but moved on. “It’s about Rose, really.”
“How is she? Pete says she looks like a beached whale.”
“She does,” Jackie agreed, distractedly. “A few weeks ago, Mickey, Rose told me this thing about the words ‘bad wolf.’”
“Bad wolf,” Mickey echoed, thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that before, out of Rose. I think…The graffiti, that time we had to use the truck to open up the TARDIS. I think it said ‘bad wolf.’”
“She said the words were signs, Mickey. A sign she could get back to the Doctor, could reach him.”
“I remember her acting that way about it, yeah. Once she saw the graffiti, she knew she could get the TARDIS to fly. Remember?”
“Mickey, when we went to that beach with her in Norway…The place was called Bad Wolf Bay.”
“Now what are the odds of that?” mused Mickey.
“Rose was saying that she thought it was the old sign, that that’s why she keeps waiting for the Doctor to show up. But what if we’re going about it the wrong way? We’ve been waiting for him to do something heroic. What if he can’t? ‘Bad wolf’ was a sign that she could get back to him. While we’ve been waiting for him to come to her.”
“So? What are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Jackie said, helplessly. “But you’re the one who works for Torchwood. Can’t you think of something, on this side? It wasn’t so long ago you lot were flittin’ back and forth like it was the bloody Chunnel.”
“But that was different, Jackie. The breach was open then. It was easier to get across it. And even then we were destroying the planet.”
Jackie shook her head, not liking the answer. “There’s got to be something we can do. Something. It’s a sign she can get back to him, but we’re the ones who’ve got to be doin’ something. We can’t just wait for him. We’ve got to help him, from here.”
“Jackie.” Mickey looked at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure she grasped the magnitude of what she was saying. “If he comes back, she’ll go with him, you know. She’ll leave, and she’ll never be able to come back. Is that what you want?”
“I’ve had months to think about this, Mickey. And I’m happier with a Rose I never get to see but who I know is happy, than with a Rose I see every day but who I know is miserable. Mickey, please.” Jackie leaned over the table at him, intent. “It’s her family now, not us anymore. She’s got babies who need her. And she loves him. Please help me get her back to the right universe.”
Mickey looked at Jackie, feeling possibilities close off around him. He supposed, they were never possibilities to begin with. Jackie was right about one thing: Rose loved the Doctor. She always had, and he suspected she always would, no matter what she tried to do to move on.
Mickey sighed a bit. “Pete-”
“Pete can’t know,” Jackie cut him off, swiftly. “Not yet. We need to figure this out ourselves first. If it’s even a possibility. Can’t you give it a bit of thought, poke around a bit, before we worry Pete or Rose about it?”
“I don’t even know where I’d begin,” said Mickey.
Jackie thought for a second. “I think I’d start with Bad Wolf Bay.”
**********************
The Doctor wasn’t making any progress. Every time he took a step forward, he took two steps back. He couldn’t see his way through the labyrinth of scientific equations that kept cancelling each other out. He grew increasingly frustrated. There were times when he would spend an entire hour sprawled on the couch, trying to think and really just staring at the photo Jackie had taken of them over Christmas, their flushed faces crowded into the frame. There were times when he wanted to hide that photo away, because of how paralyzed it made him feel, but the kids would have had a fit.
The kids, unexpectedly, where thriving. It turned out they just adored Sarah Jane. Brem had apparently made it his personal mission to paint every room in Sarah Jane’s house. They finished a turquoise kitchen and had moved on to a bright blue living room.
“The paint color’s called Martian Skies,” said Brem. “But I don’t think they’ve ever seen a Martian sky, because Martian skies aren’t blue.”
“No, they aren’t,” agreed the Doctor, absently, studying in dismay the state of Brem’s beloved green jumper. Threadbare under the best of circumstances, it was now covered in splotches of paint. “Don’t you think you should pick a new jumper?” suggested the Doctor.
Brem looked horrified. “You sound like Mum!” he accused.
The Doctor blinked in surprise. “You’re right. I do. Sorry.” He paused. “Keep your jumper.”
Brem nodded, pleased, and went on with his careful examination of the paint chips Sarah Jane had found for him.
The kids simply refused to admit the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to get them back their mother, a possibility that worried him more and more as the weeks passed. Brem and Athena, with innate enthusiasm, kept believing that next week would be the magical week when he would figure it out and Rose would come back and everything would be perfect again. Their utter faith terrified him--nd reminded him so strongly of Rose that he almost couldn’t bear it. There were days when he was desperate to drop the kids off at Sarah Jane’s, to be out from their under their unerring trust. And then he spent all the time without them unable to focus because the TARDIS was too lonely and empty and quiet and he missed them.
Time, relatively speaking, passed Brem’s fourth birthday. The Doctor mentioned it once, hesitantly, the suggestion of a cake, and both kids had refused to entertain the possibility of a birthday without Mum. Their panic at this, felt keenly in his head, was so vehement that he never brought the subject up again, and he tried not to worry as time kept marching toward Athena’s second birthday. Stuck, he thought. They were stuck.
“Maybe we should take a trip,” he suggested to them, finally, while they were watching television one night. “Just a little one. Maybe to Thhhhhhhhhhhmyr, for some sweets. Would you like that?”
“No,” answered Brem, without looking away from the television.
“Come on,” wheedled the Doctor. “A little trip? You wouldn’t like that? You like travelling even more than I do.”
“We’re not taking a trip without Mum,” said Brem, still not looking at him.
Athena, sucking on a bottle, watched the interplay with wide brown eyes flickering in between the two of them.
“It wouldn’t be…Just a hop, skip, and a jump. Blink and you’re back. You know, maybe we could go to Julk Ikgerrn, for Sarah Jane. They have the best paint in the universe there. Some of the paint changes colours randomly, some of it smells like vanilla, some of it tastes like strawberries. Wellllllll, something very like strawberries.”
“No,” said Brem, firmly, and looked at him then, and for a moment the Doctor blinked and had to stop himself from flinching. Brem had always had eyes that made you think he knew the secret of the universe. The Doctor had never before thought that the secret of the universe contained uncharitable things about him. “We are not going to learn how to travel without Mum. I won’t let you. We are going to stay here until we get her back.”
The Doctor sighed and closed his hands around tufts of his hair. “Brem, what if-”
“Stop it,” said Brem. “Don’t.” He suddenly seemed very much like a four-year-old. Whatever the secret of the universe actually was, at the moment it was huge with supplication.
“Fine,” he said, after a moment. “Fine. We’ll stay here for a little while longer.”
Athena took the bottle out of her mouth. “Until Mum comes back,” she said, as if Brem had not made that point perfectly clear.
The Doctor scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to tell them, he thought. He needed to tell them that he couldn’t get her back for them, that every avenue he pursued led him straight to a dead end, that he could see no way he would succeed here without destroying two universes. But he couldn’t do it. He kept trying to convince himself that they were right, that tomorrow would be the day he would suddenly see the solution, and there was no need to break their hearts if he was on the verge of fixing everything. But the bed no longer smelled of Rose, and her clothes in her wardrobe were musty, and he was starting to think that he couldn’t accurately remember what she’d tasted like, and he thought that he could live with his kids in this ghostly limbo for another nine hundred years and still never be able to say out loud that she was not coming back.
He lowered his hand. Athena was watching him anxiously, and he was amazed by how much his answer meant to her, how she would take it as truth without any further examination. And he smiled at her and said, “Yeah, until Mum comes back.” And she smiled back and snuggled into him.
Brem glanced over at them, their eyes meeting briefly. But Brem looked back at the television before the Doctor could get a read on that lurking secret of the universe.
**********************
They had not realized how much the Doctor’s alien IVs kept Rose alive during the late stages of her pregnancy. It wasn’t until her blood pressure plummeted, until she was so weak that they couldn’t rouse her into complete consciousness, that they realized how dire the situation was, and then Owen performed the C-section right away, two months early. They had nearly waited too long, Rose so dreadfully weak that she had little energy to heal, and she was wracked by a high fever when an infection set in, during which she begged deliriously for the Doctor and Jackie, running damp cloths along her face, promised that he was coming and hoped that Rose would pull through.
She did, the fever finally breaking on the third day, and she opened her eyes on her mother and smiled weakly before closing them again. “What I wouldn’t give for those magic alien potions of the Doctor’s,” she groaned. “Sonic screwdriver isn’t a bad way to go, it turns out.”
“Are you in much pain?” Jackie asked, concerned.
Rose shook her head. “It’s not bad. Where’s the baby? Can I see her?”
“I’ll get her for you.” Jackie disappeared, and reappeared a few minutes later with a nurse wheeling an incubator.
Rose made a soft exclamation, struggling to sit up. “Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?”
The nurse smiled kindly. “Just small. Just needs a bit of help breathing. She’ll be fine.”
Rose leaned over the incubator. There was a plastic sleeve opening for her to stick her hand in, and she did, running her hand carefully over the golden fuzz over the baby’s tiny head. The nurse withdrew, leaving them alone to bond.
Rose looked up at her mother. “The nurse…The two hearts…”
“We’re in a special wing. Utmost secrecy. Supposedly. Pete trusts her.”
“What about Owen?”
“Owen doesn’t trust anybody.”
“Fair point.” Rose looked back at the baby, traced her finger delicately over the fragile fist. “She looks just like me.”
“That’s what we’ve all been saying.”
“How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
Rose lifted her eyebrows. “Wow. I’m sorry, little girl. You must have thought I’d abandoned you.”
“What will you call her?” asked Jackie.
Rose felt her breath stall, as she stared at this red, wrinkled infant. “I…I don’t know, Mum. I can’t…I can’t bring myself to…He’s so particular about names, Mum. Every name I think of seems so…so…human. Just not right for her. And he’d be…I can’t name her without consulting him, Mum. How can I?” Rose looked up, begging to be agreed with. “How can I? You know how he is about it.”
“Alright,” Jackie soothed her, afraid she might have a full-fledged breakdown on her hands. “You don’t have to name her right now. We’ll wait.”
Pete, when he found out, thought the idea was silly, and that Rose ought to name the child. He thought Jackie should insist on it. Jackie was reluctant to push Rose when her hormones were such a mess, when she could so easily tumble into a dark depression. She kept telling Pete that he needed to give it a couple of days, weeks. Months.
Next Chapter
Author --
earlgreytea68
Rating - Teen
Characters -- Ten, Rose, Jackie, Mickey, OCs
Spoilers: Through the end of S2.
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make money off of them, but I don't like to dwell on that, so let's move on. (Except for Brem and Athena. They're all mine.)
Summary - And then there came a day when Rose said she was having a baby. Hijinks ensue from there.
Author’s Notes - The icon was created by
punkinart , commissioned by
aibhinn , who graciously offered it to me for my use.
Many, many thanks to
jlrpuck , who is always an excellent beta. Even if her memory's a mess. Many thanks also to Kristin-who-won't-get-an-LJ, who brainstormed this fic with me endlessly, and
bouncy_castle79 , who gave it the first major outside-eyes read-through.
Ch.1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Ch. 11 - Ch. 12 - Ch. 13 - Ch. 14 - Ch. 15 - Ch. 16 - Ch. 17 - Ch. 18 - Ch. 19
Chapter Twenty
The baby grew. Rose would lay awake at night, one hand resting on the gentle swell of her stomach, one hand holding up her Time Lord mood pendant, which had begun to come to life again as a slightly telepathic being came to life inside of her. Owen reported on the science of it to her, on the triple helix of the DNA, on the two strong hearts, on the fact that it was a female. Oh, all of that science was comprehensible and made sense and she was glad that things were going so well. But she worried about the non-science things. She worried about her slightly telepathic little girl, with no slightly telepathic being around her to read her moods or feed her moods to read. Would she never figure out how the telepathy worked, without the Doctor there to learn from? Would she ever learn anything, without the Doctor? Sure, it was one thing to tell your child that she was this special, remarkable species, but if she never knew what it was like to travel through space and time, then what difference would it make to her? It was really just talk, wasn’t it?
Rose worried incessantly about these things.
She worried incessantly about other things, too, of course. Did the Doctor brush Athena’s hair properly? It could get so unwieldy if not brushed properly. Did he sit and play with her dolls with her? Or did he try to force her to tinker instead? Did he watch Brem to make sure that Brem didn’t try to do too much, be too strong, do too much denying? Or was he too in denial himself to watch out for the kids?
She was terrified of what could be going on without her. She tried not to think of it, but it was impossible. She tried not to be depressed, for the baby’s sake, but every morning she got out of bed took an act of willpower that astonished her. As worried as she was about everything else, she was worried about herself as well.
“Rose!” her mother called one day, when Rose was already far enough advanced in her pregnancy that she was being slowed to a waddle. Months kept ticking by, she thought, sitting in the conservatory listening to her mother call for her, and there was no word from the Doctor, only silence and stillness. Sometimes she could have thought she’d dreamed him, if she didn’t have a huge abdomen that she owed to him.
“There you are,” her mother said sunnily, entering the conservatory, and Rose tried to smile at her. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Listen.” She practically bounced her way across the room, holding a small package to her, and then fiddled for a bit with the stereo. Music suddenly filled the air.
Rose tipped her head, and a slow smile spread over her face. “Is this Ian Dury?”
“I’m right, aren’t I? The Doctor listened to him, didn’t he? I remember him babbling about Ian Dury’s brilliance when I asked him to play Christmas music that time. I looked all over for it for you, Rose, turns out Ian Dury wasn’t a big hit in this universe. But I thought it would help you feel a bit better.” Her mother sat next to her, studying her worriedly.
Rose kept her smile on her face, although the effort ached. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s a brilliant gift, I love it.”
“Do you, though?” Jackie asked, anxiously. “I know you’re worried about the baby, growing like this, without the Doctor. So I thought maybe we could make an effort to surround her with Doctor-y things. Like the music he liked. Maybe we could try to find the books he read, would that help?”
“You talk about him in the past tense,” said Rose.
Her mother blinked. “I what?”
“Like he’s dead. I know you can’t help it, it’s probably healthier, it’s just…I always present-tense him in my mind. That’s probably not a good thing.”
“Oh, Rose,” she said, and smoothed her hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought the music would make you happy.”
“It does. Oh, it does. My hormones are all a mess, you know. I try to laugh and I cry.”
“I’m sure he…he’s…” Jackie trailed off helplessly, because she had no idea what to say.
“I’m just tired of missing them, Mum,” said Rose, wearily, leaning her head back. “So tired. I thought, after Bad Wolf Bay…I mean, why would the bay be called ‘Bad Wolf’ unless it’s supposed to mean something?”
“But what does ‘bad wolf’ mean?” asked Jackie, perplexed.
“It’s…It’s a sign. It’s a link between me and the Doctor. A sign that I can reach him. The words ‘bad wolf.’ They followed us through space and time so I would know that I could get back to him. So why would the breach come out at Bad Wolf Bay unless…? I just keep thinking that and thinking that and I’m wondering if I’ll still be thinking it when I’m 85.”
“How can two words be a sign, Rose? How can they follow you? It doesn’t make sense.”
Rose smiled sadly. “I know. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. He used to read Dr. Seuss to the kids, before they were born. Do they have Dr. Seuss in this universe, do you know? I’d like especially to read her Green Eggs and Ham. It’s my favourite.”
“We’ll see about Green Eggs and Ham,” said Jackie.
“Thank you so much for Ian Dury. Really.”
Jackie squeezed Rose’s hand. “Oh, any time.”
**********************
It wasn’t the sort of thing she felt comfortable broaching with Pete. Pete took his role as head of Torchwood very seriously. He was always careful not to give an impression of favouritism toward Rose, and Jackie knew that if she asked him a Torchwood-related favour, he’d hesitate. There was nothing else Pete wouldn’t give her if she asked, but she didn’t think he’d give her Torchwood.
So she went to Mickey. It was easy to hide the visit from Rose, who was now bedridden in the final stages of her pregnancy, reading endless amount of Dr. Seuss to the unborn baby. Dr. Seuss had been even more prolific in this universe, which she still found hard to believe. Rose was enjoying discovering the new stories. It was harder, however, to hide the visit with Mickey from Pete. They met for a furtive cup of coffee in a generic coffee bar near where Mickey lived, on a Saturday afternoon when Mickey wasn’t working but Pete was.
“So,” said Mickey, after they’d settled with coffees. “This is weird. You’re makin’ me nervous. I’ve never known you to ask any guy to coffee…innocently…” Mickey finished, lamely.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Jackie.
“Nothing,” Mickey denied, quickly, and took a sip of his coffee, which was far too hot and scalded his mouth although he pretended it didn’t.
Jackie frowned a bit but moved on. “It’s about Rose, really.”
“How is she? Pete says she looks like a beached whale.”
“She does,” Jackie agreed, distractedly. “A few weeks ago, Mickey, Rose told me this thing about the words ‘bad wolf.’”
“Bad wolf,” Mickey echoed, thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that before, out of Rose. I think…The graffiti, that time we had to use the truck to open up the TARDIS. I think it said ‘bad wolf.’”
“She said the words were signs, Mickey. A sign she could get back to the Doctor, could reach him.”
“I remember her acting that way about it, yeah. Once she saw the graffiti, she knew she could get the TARDIS to fly. Remember?”
“Mickey, when we went to that beach with her in Norway…The place was called Bad Wolf Bay.”
“Now what are the odds of that?” mused Mickey.
“Rose was saying that she thought it was the old sign, that that’s why she keeps waiting for the Doctor to show up. But what if we’re going about it the wrong way? We’ve been waiting for him to do something heroic. What if he can’t? ‘Bad wolf’ was a sign that she could get back to him. While we’ve been waiting for him to come to her.”
“So? What are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Jackie said, helplessly. “But you’re the one who works for Torchwood. Can’t you think of something, on this side? It wasn’t so long ago you lot were flittin’ back and forth like it was the bloody Chunnel.”
“But that was different, Jackie. The breach was open then. It was easier to get across it. And even then we were destroying the planet.”
Jackie shook her head, not liking the answer. “There’s got to be something we can do. Something. It’s a sign she can get back to him, but we’re the ones who’ve got to be doin’ something. We can’t just wait for him. We’ve got to help him, from here.”
“Jackie.” Mickey looked at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure she grasped the magnitude of what she was saying. “If he comes back, she’ll go with him, you know. She’ll leave, and she’ll never be able to come back. Is that what you want?”
“I’ve had months to think about this, Mickey. And I’m happier with a Rose I never get to see but who I know is happy, than with a Rose I see every day but who I know is miserable. Mickey, please.” Jackie leaned over the table at him, intent. “It’s her family now, not us anymore. She’s got babies who need her. And she loves him. Please help me get her back to the right universe.”
Mickey looked at Jackie, feeling possibilities close off around him. He supposed, they were never possibilities to begin with. Jackie was right about one thing: Rose loved the Doctor. She always had, and he suspected she always would, no matter what she tried to do to move on.
Mickey sighed a bit. “Pete-”
“Pete can’t know,” Jackie cut him off, swiftly. “Not yet. We need to figure this out ourselves first. If it’s even a possibility. Can’t you give it a bit of thought, poke around a bit, before we worry Pete or Rose about it?”
“I don’t even know where I’d begin,” said Mickey.
Jackie thought for a second. “I think I’d start with Bad Wolf Bay.”
**********************
The Doctor wasn’t making any progress. Every time he took a step forward, he took two steps back. He couldn’t see his way through the labyrinth of scientific equations that kept cancelling each other out. He grew increasingly frustrated. There were times when he would spend an entire hour sprawled on the couch, trying to think and really just staring at the photo Jackie had taken of them over Christmas, their flushed faces crowded into the frame. There were times when he wanted to hide that photo away, because of how paralyzed it made him feel, but the kids would have had a fit.
The kids, unexpectedly, where thriving. It turned out they just adored Sarah Jane. Brem had apparently made it his personal mission to paint every room in Sarah Jane’s house. They finished a turquoise kitchen and had moved on to a bright blue living room.
“The paint color’s called Martian Skies,” said Brem. “But I don’t think they’ve ever seen a Martian sky, because Martian skies aren’t blue.”
“No, they aren’t,” agreed the Doctor, absently, studying in dismay the state of Brem’s beloved green jumper. Threadbare under the best of circumstances, it was now covered in splotches of paint. “Don’t you think you should pick a new jumper?” suggested the Doctor.
Brem looked horrified. “You sound like Mum!” he accused.
The Doctor blinked in surprise. “You’re right. I do. Sorry.” He paused. “Keep your jumper.”
Brem nodded, pleased, and went on with his careful examination of the paint chips Sarah Jane had found for him.
The kids simply refused to admit the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to get them back their mother, a possibility that worried him more and more as the weeks passed. Brem and Athena, with innate enthusiasm, kept believing that next week would be the magical week when he would figure it out and Rose would come back and everything would be perfect again. Their utter faith terrified him--nd reminded him so strongly of Rose that he almost couldn’t bear it. There were days when he was desperate to drop the kids off at Sarah Jane’s, to be out from their under their unerring trust. And then he spent all the time without them unable to focus because the TARDIS was too lonely and empty and quiet and he missed them.
Time, relatively speaking, passed Brem’s fourth birthday. The Doctor mentioned it once, hesitantly, the suggestion of a cake, and both kids had refused to entertain the possibility of a birthday without Mum. Their panic at this, felt keenly in his head, was so vehement that he never brought the subject up again, and he tried not to worry as time kept marching toward Athena’s second birthday. Stuck, he thought. They were stuck.
“Maybe we should take a trip,” he suggested to them, finally, while they were watching television one night. “Just a little one. Maybe to Thhhhhhhhhhhmyr, for some sweets. Would you like that?”
“No,” answered Brem, without looking away from the television.
“Come on,” wheedled the Doctor. “A little trip? You wouldn’t like that? You like travelling even more than I do.”
“We’re not taking a trip without Mum,” said Brem, still not looking at him.
Athena, sucking on a bottle, watched the interplay with wide brown eyes flickering in between the two of them.
“It wouldn’t be…Just a hop, skip, and a jump. Blink and you’re back. You know, maybe we could go to Julk Ikgerrn, for Sarah Jane. They have the best paint in the universe there. Some of the paint changes colours randomly, some of it smells like vanilla, some of it tastes like strawberries. Wellllllll, something very like strawberries.”
“No,” said Brem, firmly, and looked at him then, and for a moment the Doctor blinked and had to stop himself from flinching. Brem had always had eyes that made you think he knew the secret of the universe. The Doctor had never before thought that the secret of the universe contained uncharitable things about him. “We are not going to learn how to travel without Mum. I won’t let you. We are going to stay here until we get her back.”
The Doctor sighed and closed his hands around tufts of his hair. “Brem, what if-”
“Stop it,” said Brem. “Don’t.” He suddenly seemed very much like a four-year-old. Whatever the secret of the universe actually was, at the moment it was huge with supplication.
“Fine,” he said, after a moment. “Fine. We’ll stay here for a little while longer.”
Athena took the bottle out of her mouth. “Until Mum comes back,” she said, as if Brem had not made that point perfectly clear.
The Doctor scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to tell them, he thought. He needed to tell them that he couldn’t get her back for them, that every avenue he pursued led him straight to a dead end, that he could see no way he would succeed here without destroying two universes. But he couldn’t do it. He kept trying to convince himself that they were right, that tomorrow would be the day he would suddenly see the solution, and there was no need to break their hearts if he was on the verge of fixing everything. But the bed no longer smelled of Rose, and her clothes in her wardrobe were musty, and he was starting to think that he couldn’t accurately remember what she’d tasted like, and he thought that he could live with his kids in this ghostly limbo for another nine hundred years and still never be able to say out loud that she was not coming back.
He lowered his hand. Athena was watching him anxiously, and he was amazed by how much his answer meant to her, how she would take it as truth without any further examination. And he smiled at her and said, “Yeah, until Mum comes back.” And she smiled back and snuggled into him.
Brem glanced over at them, their eyes meeting briefly. But Brem looked back at the television before the Doctor could get a read on that lurking secret of the universe.
**********************
They had not realized how much the Doctor’s alien IVs kept Rose alive during the late stages of her pregnancy. It wasn’t until her blood pressure plummeted, until she was so weak that they couldn’t rouse her into complete consciousness, that they realized how dire the situation was, and then Owen performed the C-section right away, two months early. They had nearly waited too long, Rose so dreadfully weak that she had little energy to heal, and she was wracked by a high fever when an infection set in, during which she begged deliriously for the Doctor and Jackie, running damp cloths along her face, promised that he was coming and hoped that Rose would pull through.
She did, the fever finally breaking on the third day, and she opened her eyes on her mother and smiled weakly before closing them again. “What I wouldn’t give for those magic alien potions of the Doctor’s,” she groaned. “Sonic screwdriver isn’t a bad way to go, it turns out.”
“Are you in much pain?” Jackie asked, concerned.
Rose shook her head. “It’s not bad. Where’s the baby? Can I see her?”
“I’ll get her for you.” Jackie disappeared, and reappeared a few minutes later with a nurse wheeling an incubator.
Rose made a soft exclamation, struggling to sit up. “Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?”
The nurse smiled kindly. “Just small. Just needs a bit of help breathing. She’ll be fine.”
Rose leaned over the incubator. There was a plastic sleeve opening for her to stick her hand in, and she did, running her hand carefully over the golden fuzz over the baby’s tiny head. The nurse withdrew, leaving them alone to bond.
Rose looked up at her mother. “The nurse…The two hearts…”
“We’re in a special wing. Utmost secrecy. Supposedly. Pete trusts her.”
“What about Owen?”
“Owen doesn’t trust anybody.”
“Fair point.” Rose looked back at the baby, traced her finger delicately over the fragile fist. “She looks just like me.”
“That’s what we’ve all been saying.”
“How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
Rose lifted her eyebrows. “Wow. I’m sorry, little girl. You must have thought I’d abandoned you.”
“What will you call her?” asked Jackie.
Rose felt her breath stall, as she stared at this red, wrinkled infant. “I…I don’t know, Mum. I can’t…I can’t bring myself to…He’s so particular about names, Mum. Every name I think of seems so…so…human. Just not right for her. And he’d be…I can’t name her without consulting him, Mum. How can I?” Rose looked up, begging to be agreed with. “How can I? You know how he is about it.”
“Alright,” Jackie soothed her, afraid she might have a full-fledged breakdown on her hands. “You don’t have to name her right now. We’ll wait.”
Pete, when he found out, thought the idea was silly, and that Rose ought to name the child. He thought Jackie should insist on it. Jackie was reluctant to push Rose when her hormones were such a mess, when she could so easily tumble into a dark depression. She kept telling Pete that he needed to give it a couple of days, weeks. Months.
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