Who Fic - The Art of Being Human - Chapter Nine
The Art of Being Human - Chapter 9/11 PG-13, Ten/Rose, John Smith/Rose
AU. It is the autumn of 1913 and Rose has found herself the wife of a man who doesn’t really exist. Between the fear that she may truly learn to love John and the ever present knowledge of his true identity, Rose is forced to re-evaluate both her life and loves. And all the while the Family of Blood draws nearer to their prey...
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Epilogue
~*~
They ran, Rose clutching her shoes in one hand and her skirts in the other. Her first instinct was to go to the TARDIS and John merely followed her lead without question. It wasn’t until she began to draw near to the shed where it was hidden that she began to realise that she couldn’t take him there or the Family would find it too.
Well, that and she didn’t want to have to explain the TARDIS to John.
Realising that she had no idea where she was actually going, Rose stopped so abruptly that John ran into the back of her and nearly knocked her over.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” he gabbled, quickly taking hold of her waist so that she didn’t fall. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Rose said breathlessly. The truth of it was that her corset was restricting her lung capacity so much that she had developed a killer stitch on their run. Up until now the adrenalin had been masking the pain but now she found herself gritting her teeth and pressing an ineffectual hand against her side. John placed a gentle hand on her back as well and rubbed pointless circles, as though it might help her to recover her breath.
“Oh Rose,” he said, leaning down to press his forehead to her temple. He sounded almost as breathless as she did. “I’m sorry the night has been so awful.”
She barked out a laugh that was probably closer to a sob than anything else. “Not your fault,” she told him. John slipped his arm a little more securely around her waist as she spoke - not so much supporting himself against her now as embracing her. As her breath returned and she slowly straightened back to standing he drew his other arm around her body and cradled her head delicately against the hollow of his neck.
“I still don’t understand.” He admitted breathlessly. “What did they want with me?”
Rose reached up to stroke his cheek and couldn’t help but hate herself for lying. “Wish I knew.”
“They seem to think that I’m someone other than who I really am,” John continued bleakly before seeming to realise something. “That little girl, what did you say her name was?”
“What, Lucy?”
“Yes,” John affirmed, releasing her from his embrace. “She said...she said that you were talking to someone about the Doctor. They called me a-a Time Lord.” Rose said nothing and John peered at her searchingly through the darkness. “Have you been telling people about the stories from my journal?”
Rose considered, still idly holding a hand over her stitch and breathing deeply in order to buy her enough time to think. Should she tell John the truth? Could his false life still be salvaged when it was being torn down around him? More to the point, would telling him about the Doctor help them to defeat the Family or would he just lose the plot altogether?
“Rose?” he pressed and she bit her lip. She didn’t want to make things worse than they already were and John was already frightened - she could tell.
“No.” She lied finally. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“You’re certain?” John demanded, reaching forward to take hold of her wrist. “You’re the only one I’ve ever told about my dreams. How could they possibly...?”
“Well maybe they stole it and read it?” Rose suggested desperately. John went to protest but she cut across him again. “Look, I dunno John but they obviously believe that you’ve got something they want so either way we’ve gotta keep you safe yeah? Cos they’re gonna come after us wherever we go.”
“You’re right,” John’s face was pinched as he scanned the surrounding darkness, as though the Family were going to leap out at them at any moment. “We must move on. We’ve lingered far too long as it is.”
“Hold on,” Rose stopped him as he went to leave. “Where d’you think you’re going?”
“Aren’t we going back to Farringham?” John said, surprised. “I thought you were leading us there.”
“No! I was just...running.” Rose lied. “I wasn’t thinking about where I was going. Anyway, we can’t go back to the school. We have to think of somewhere else.”
“But it makes sense to go back there...” John began and Rose shot him an incredulous look.
“You do realise that it’s the first place they’ll go looking for us?”
“Of course,” John snapped, obviously irritated that she had cut him off. “Rose, nobody at the school knows what’s happened in the village! At this very moment they are all sitting ducks. We have to warn them so that they can protect themselves!”
Rose stared at him for a long moment before offering a very small realisation of, “Oh my god, they’ll let them right in won’t they? They won’t even think.”
“Quite.” John said grimly. “So if you’re ready to move on...?” at her hasty nod he took hold of her hand. “Come along then, quickly before they catch us up.”
Rose stumbled along, John’s hand her only lifeline in the darkness as he led her cross country to the school. The pain of her stitch had abated slightly during their brief rest but it soon swelled to monstrous proportions again, making it difficult for her to breathe. It didn’t stop her brain from ticking over though and they were nearly at the school when she began to worry about what exactly John had meant when he’d said they had to warn everyone.
“John...” she began breathlessly.
“Mmmn?”
“When you said the school needed to be warned so they could protect themselves...” she left it hanging and John glanced back at her briefly before continuing on steadily.
“We load what weapons we have, take post and wait.”
Rose felt her insides go cold and slippery with dread. “You’re serious?” she demanded of him, still not quite believing what he’d just suggested. “Bullets against lasers? You think that’s gonna be a fair fight?” John didn’t answer and so she pressed on with, “You saw what happened to Mr. Chambers in the village...”
“Perhaps one man can’t fight them alone,” John agreed impatiently. “But at Farringham we teach our students to stand together. To unite as one and...”
“But they’re just kids!” Rose jerked her hand out of his in order to place it against her side where the stitch was cutting into her anew. “You can’t ask them to fight! The Family’ll kill them!”
“Then they will die as heroes!” John stopped dead and wheeled around to face her, livid. “They will not run away like snivelling cowards!”
“It’s not cowardly!” Rose yelled. “It’s suicide John!”
John opened his mouth to yell back at her but then he stopped himself and turned away from her abruptly. Knowing that something she’d said had finally gotten through to him, Rose softened her voice and appealed gently to him. “Look, I know you’re scared,” she laughed a little as she admitted, “I’m scared too! I’ve already had a gun put to my head tonight. But d’you really wanna be responsible for anyone else dying? Cause if you make the boys fight then it’s not gonna be a battle, John. It’s gonna be a bloodbath.”
John paused for a long, bleak moment before he turned back to her.
“Oh Rose,” he looked simply devastated and Rose jumped as he grabbed her in a desperately tight embrace. “I’m so frightened. I’ve never...” he let out a shuddering breath and pulled back to cup her face tenderly. “You’re right,” he told her softly. “Of course you are. I can’t allow the boys to fight this battle for me. What sort of man would that make me?” he dropped his eyes and his hands from her face. “If these monsters want me then...they will have me. I will face them alone.”
He tilted his chin away dejectedly but Rose carefully brought his gaze back to her with a gentle touch. Reaching down with her other hand, she took hold of his and brought it up between them. John looked down at their linked hands in surprise, then met her gaze.
“Not alone,” she reminded him softly, squeezing his hand firmly. “I’m with you yeah? Whatever happens.”
John looked equal parts relieved and apprehensive.
“I-I can’t ask you to do that Rose.”
Rose’s lips quirked into a smile and she shook her head. “You don’t have to ask Docto-” John blinked in surprise at her slip up and Rose hastily plastered on a smile. “John.” She corrected herself through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to ask me, John.”
“Rose...” John began softly, his eyes questioning. But before he could say anything further she tugged on his hand and they began to cut across the closest field. She waited for the questions to begin, what the Family wanted, why they thought he was the Doctor, why she’d just called him Doctor...
When he finally spoke it was not what she had expected.
“How did you know how to use it?”
Rose frowned back at him in confusion. “Use what?”
“The...gun.” he explained falteringly. “You’ve always seemed to loathe them...yet when occasion called for it you used it so easily.”
Rose shrugged and focused on the path ahead, the warmth of John’s hand in hers. “S’just a gun. Far as I can tell it’s not that hard to use. You just point and pull the trigger.”
John was silent for a long moment and Rose waited and worried about his next question. Then she heard a strange sound.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded of him. What had started off as a quiet chuckle though was quickly evolving into a full blown laugh and she was worried that somebody unfriendly might hear them.
“You are such a surprising woman,” John said, sobering once she’d pointed out just that. “It’s quite wonderful.”
“Well hopefully there’ll be no more surprises after this,” Rose muttered to herself as they jogged across the final stretch of open land before the school. The minute they were inside they bolted the front door shut behind them and John headed for the bell that was used to signal the change of classes and began to call for an evacuation.
Rose stood by him as the boys began streaming downstairs, ruffled and confused but ready for action.
“Evacuate!” John bellowed. “Out to the stable door and await further instruction! Evacuate!”
“I say sir,” Rose heard one of the boys say as he rushed down the stairs two at a time. “What on Earth is the matter?”
“Enemy at the door, Hutchinson. Enemy at the door and we are EVACUATING! Take no belongings.”
The boys seemed confused by the order but obediently began to flee towards the stables.
“Can you go with them and guide them to safety?” John asked Rose, still ringing the bell as though his life depended on it.
“What, you think they’ll actually listen to me?” Rose scoffed, but then she noticed that John was very carefully not looking her in the eye and she grew instantly suspicious. “Hold on, what’re you gonna do?”
“Well,” John began nervously. “I’m going to go upstairs. And I’m going to load up one of the rifles...”
“Like hell you will-!” Rose began and at the profanity John’s face twisted in shock. Thankfully they were both saved the agony of the ensuing conversation by the arrival of the Headmaster who announced his presence by barging into the room and puffing himself up until he looked very much like a blowfish wearing a mortarboard.
“What in thunder’s name is this?” he demanded, livid. The remaining stragglers, student and teacher alike, froze. When no answer came Rocastle pressed his lips together and glared around at the assembled. “I think that someone had better explain to me exactly what is going on here.” He said icily.
There was a pregnant pause that followed during which all heads slowly turned to John, still standing with the bell raised above his head. He let his arm drop to his side with an awkward clang before speaking up.
“Headmaster,” he said hesitantly. “I’m afraid that I have to report that the school is under attack. Or rather...will be very shortly.”
“Really?” Rocastle looked both unimpressed and unconvinced. “If that is the case then perhaps you and I should have a word in private Mr. Smith.”
“I promise you, sir,” John continued desperately. “I was in the village with my wife. Its Baines, sir, Jeremy Baines and Mr. Hart from the village. They’ve gone mad, sir and they’ve got guns. They’ve already murdered Mr. Chambers. I saw it happen right before my own eyes.”
Rocastle immediately turned to Rose for confirmation. “Mrs. Smith is that so?”
“Yes sir.” She said quickly.
“Murder on our own soil?” Rocastle pressed.
“Yeah.” Rose answered without thinking and quickly corrected herself. “I mean, yes.”
“Perhaps you did well then, Mr. Smith.” Rocastle said with satisfaction, turning back to John. “But what makes you think that the danger’s coming here?”
“Cause they threatened him,” Rose blurted and everyone in the room stared at her like she’d grown a second head. For probably the millionth time since landing here, Rose had to refrain from rolling her eyes at them. Honestly! Men. “Baines and the others. They tried to use me as bait, so John would give them what they wanted.”
Rocastle frowned. “And what is it they wanted?”
“I...dunno.” she lied before sharing a glance with John. He didn’t correct her but he certainly looked uneasy. “They weren’t really making much sense. Headmaster. Sir.”
“Very well,” Rocastle said decisively and then began barking out orders. “You boys, up to the armoury and ready the guns. Mr. Philips will assist. You, Hutchinson, go and retrieve those who have retreated through the stables. Mr. Snell, telephone the police. Professor Ratcliff, with me. We shall investigate.”
“No but...” Rose ran to Rocastle and gripped his arm. “You don’t understand! It’s not safe out there!”
Rocastle’s lip curled and he shook his arm from her grip aloofly. “Mr. Smith,” he said curtly. “Your wife should go and assist Matron Redfern.”
John and Rose exchanged a brief look of panic.
“Sir,” John said, clearing his throat and lowering his voice. “The Matron was with Baines and Hart in the village.”
Even Rocastle looked momentarily rocked by this news but then his face hardened. “Very well then. Mrs. Smith, you are now our acting nurse in chief. You will tend to the wounded. I suggest you go and ready yourself.”
Rose gaped. “No, but...”
“You will do as I say!” Rocastle snapped and everyone in the room jumped. “All of you! To your posts immediately!”
Those assembled scattered every which way and Rose took advantage of the pandemonium (and Rocastle being distracted by giving out yet more orders) to grasp John by the arm and pull him into a corner.
“You can’t let him do this.” She said fiercely. “You can’t win against them - the boys’ll all be killed!”
John shook his head despairingly and touched her cheek briefly. “I know.” he said simply before leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her mouth, an apology for what he was about to do.
“No but - you can stop it!” Rose said desperately, tearing her lips away from his. “Just tell him! Tell Rocastle you can’t win!”
“Rose...”
“You can’t let this happen!” Rose said, all but crying with frustration. “You can’t!”
“What choice do I have?” John said miserably. “The Headmaster will not be swayed and I cannot leave them to fight for me. I must stay and protect them as best I can.” He straightened then, resolute and proud and not in the least bit terrified. “Even if it means that I have to give myself over to them.”
Rose drew in a sharp, horrified breath. “No.” She whispered, clutching unthinkingly at the hem of his jacket. “No you...you can’t John, you can’t let them get hold of you! They’ll kill you, they’ll-they’ll...”
She trailed off into a dry sob, covering her mouth with her free hand even as Rocastle called for John to join himself and Ratcliff. Looking up she met John’s gaze and despite the fear she could see the determination in his face.
“If I cannot run then I must fight.” he said quietly before departing.
~*~
Rose waited until John had disappeared from the room and then she dove back into the fray with a renewed sense of purpose.
She’d never thought that John would be so willing to sacrifice himself to save someone else. It was so very Doctor that it frightened her. She couldn’t just let him hand himself over to the Family - especially when she still didn’t know where the watch was.
So she had to find Tim Lattimer.
Unfortunately the boy in question turned out to be a slippery fish to catch. There were boys rushing about all over the place, and every time Rose thought she’d caught a glimpse of her quarry she was dismayed to discover that it wasn’t him. She was beginning to despair of ever finding him and had resigned herself to searching the whole school by herself (again) when she had an unexpected stroke of luck.
She had barely stepped into one of the abandoned dormitories when a boy leapt out from behind the door in his dressing gown, wielding a hockey stick and ready to brain her.
“Jenkins!” Rose screamed when she realised who it was. “It’s just me!”
The boys pale face crumpled. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and there was a faint sheen of perspiration on his skin. “Mrs. Smith.” he repeated, as though he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He was swaying badly, his grip on the hockey stick limp.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Rose put a placating hand out until he let the hockey stick fall to his side and then she quickly helped him to sit on the nearest bed before he fell over. “Charlie, what’re you doing?”
“Protecting myself.” The boy said proudly. “I came down with the others but Rocastle sent me back up here. Said I’d only be a hindrance.” He looked disgusted with himself at the very thought, and even more so when he admitted, “Lattimer had to help me up the stairs.”
“Lattimer?” Rose said, excited. “Tim Lattimer you mean? Where is he? Have you seen him?”
Despite his obvious disdain for the younger boy, Jenkins was loathe to dob him in. But after some prompting he admitted somewhat grudgingly that the other boy had gone into hiding. “He left me in the first floor corridor,” he explained. “Hid up one end. I don’t know why.”
Rose didn’t even bother to thank him before she was off and running. Darkened corridors and stairwells led the familiar way to the first floor corridor and maybe, just maybe if she could find Tim she could get the watch back from him and then she could use it to distract the Family, lure them away from the school and from John before he did something silly. And then...
And then. Well. She’d just have to figure that one out as she went along. It worked for the Doctor right? She could fly by the seat of her pants for once too couldn’t she?
Rounding the final corner so quickly that she clipped the wall painfully with her shoulder, Rose burst into the first floor corridor and found...
“Not here.” she said dumbly. “He’s...he’s not...” she patted the wall beside her vainly, as though the boy in question might spring out of the wood work.
Abruptly, from the front of the school, the gunfire stopped abruptly and there followed a long and horrible silence. Rose’s heart stopped for a long moment and then began beating double time when she heard a laser gun being fired and then the unmistakable cries of panicked children.
She ran.
By the time she managed to make it back downstairs the fight seemed to be well and truly over, John hastily shepherding the boys out through the stables once more.
“What happened?” Rose demanded, racing over to him. “Why’d you stop fighting? John?”
He gestured a few more boys through the door, not daring to look at her and Rose instantly began to panic, fearing the absolute worst.
“Are they coming?” she asked, in horror. “Did they break through?”
“Yes,” John said shortly. “And Ratcliff...Rocastle...”
“What about them?” she pressed but then stopped dead at his stricken expression. “John?”
“It was Baines.” John managed. “And the little girl, Lucy. They...” he stopped suddenly, looking like he was about to be sick. Rose quickly grasped his arm to steady him, realising all on her own what must have happened.
“Oh my god...” she whispered, feeling her own personal wave of nausea rush over her.
“The Headmaster wouldn’t believe me,” John lamented. “I told him she was dangerous but he tried to help her. And she...”
He broke off and Rose gripped his hand desperately in both of hers. “John...”
“This is my fault,” he snapped, breaking free of her grip and beginning to pace, running frantic hands through his hair so that it stuck up everywhere. “I should have warned him, I should have told Rocastle...”
“You tried...”
“Trying isn’t good enough!” John cried, slamming his hand against the doorframe. Rose jumped. “Trying is nowhere near good enough when people are being murdered Rose! Right in front of me! First Mr. Chambers, then Ratcliff. Now the Headmaster...”
He let out a sob and Rose hastily took his hands in hers before he began hitting things again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry John.”
“I’m frightened,” John admitted, all but crushing her hand in his, his eyes red from crying. “Rose I’m...I’m so very afraid. I don’t understand...w-why?”
Her heart broke for him but there was no time to waste hanging around if the Family were about to burst through the doors at any minute.
“We’ve gotta go,” Rose told him gently and to her surprise John simply nodded and wiped his eyes. The moment she opened the stable door however, she found herself face to face with a crowd of scarecrows. Automatically slamming the door shut again, she grabbed John’s hand and pulled her startled husband in the opposite direction. “Think we should run!”
Through the school and out the back door to the firing range, together they scrambled through the woods and made their way back around to the front of the school. There they paused, hidden from sight, and Rose watched in horror as more of the Family’s scarecrow mercenaries dragged the TARDIS into view.
“No.” She whispered, sinking to her knees in the mud and feeling like she was about to cry. What else could possibly go wrong tonight?
“What on Earth is that thing?” John wondered from beside her, still pale and obviously shaken. “Some sort of...shed?”
Rose turned to him in surprise. “Don’t you recognise it?”
John shook his head, still staring at the Police Box in confusion. “Should I?” He looked at her questioningly but Rose took his hand instead of answering.
“We can’t stay here,” she said curtly and as she led him away they clearly heard Mr. Hart calling out, taunting them.
“Doctor!” Hart sing-songed at the top of his lungs. “Oh Doctor! We’ve got yer TAR-DIS! Doctorrrrr!”
~*~
The jeering of the Family followed them deep into the woods. Once they were far enough away from the school, Rose led them back onto the road and they ran along it in spurts and starts, breathing heavily and keeping an eye out for scarecrows. They were almost to the village however when they paused for breath next to a field with a very familiar tree. Rose ignored the pain of her screaming quadriceps and intercostals and instead pressed on down a lesser used path.
“Where are we going?” John asked, plodding along behind her. He sounded exhausted.
“Shh,” Rose hushed him. “Just follow me.” Several minutes later a small cottage came into view and Rose breathed a great sigh of relief.
“Whose home is this?” John whispered as she pushed open the door and pulled him inside, bolting it shut behind them.
“The Cartwrights,” Rose explained as she surveyed the room. A tea set was laid out on the table but the chairs were all empty, the little cottage dark and still. “I met Lucy Cartwright a few weeks back - I gave her a lift home on my bike when it was raining. I met her mum...” she blinked away sudden tears. “Margaret. If Lucy came home this afternoon after she was possessed...”
“Possessed?” John said weakly as he sat down at the table. “You think they’ve been taken by the devil?”
“Different kind of devil to what you’re thinking but basically yeah.” Rose lifted the lid on the teapot and heard the disconcerting swish of cold tea when she tilted it to peer inside. The sound brought on a fresh wave of nausea, thinking about Margaret and how lovely she’d been. Dead now, she thought dully, and probably little more than atoms amongst the dust on the floor.
“I must go to them,” John realised blankly. “Before anyone else dies.”
“You can’t,” Rose snapped. “If you do then they’ll kill you. Or worse.”
“They must be open to reasoning...” John began to protest but Rose stamped him back down quickly.
“After what you saw them do to all those people you think they’re going to reason with you?”
“Well what then?” John demanded. “We stay here and hide like cowards? We run away?”
“Why not?” Rose retorted. “It’s what the Doctor did!”
John mouth dropped open in shock just as there was a sudden knock on the door and they both jumped.
“Is it them?” John whispered, paling.
“Why would they knock when they’ve got guns?” Rose hissed and John looked abashed as she crept over to the door, unbolted it and then opened it a crack.
Timothy stood serenely on the threshold, palm outstretched and the silver fob watch resting in the very middle. It shone dimly in the light from the moon and up until now Rose would have been glad to have it back but now...at the very sight of it, all of the panic and rush of the night seemed to come to a screaming halt and in a moment of supreme clarity, she realised that her time was well and truly up and she still wasn’t ready.
“No,” she blurted and, unthinkingly, went to shut the door in the poor boys face.
“Wait!” Timothy cried, lunging forwards to stop her, and then John was beside her, pushing the door back open again.
“Lattimer?” he said in surprise. “What on Earth are you doing here?”
“You have to open the watch,” the boy said urgently, pushing past Rose so that he could press it into John’s hand. “You have to bring the Doctor back.”
John spluttered, glancing between the boy before him and the watch in his hand. “What?”
“Tim,” Rose pleaded, bolting the door shut again, just in case. “He doesn’t know.”
“What don’t I know?” John demanded. “How does Timothy know about the Doctor? What have you told him?”
Timothy shook his head. “She hasn’t told me anything sir.”
John fumbled for an explanation. “Then you read my journal.”
Timothy shook his head again. “The watch told me. The Doctor is real sir, as real as anything. And we need him back. Please.”
“Ridiculous,” John scoffed and turned to Rose. “What have you been telling this boy? Bedtime stories? Filling his head with...with foolishness?” Rose said nothing, tongue tied, and John waited, turning from her to Lattimer and back again. “Rose?” he said, pleadingly. “Rose please tell me that this is all some sort of awful misunderstanding.”
“John...” she whispered, voice cracking. “I’m...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”
“This is a joke!” John declared loudly, putting the watch down heavily on the table. “A prank! Nothing more!”
“I’m sorry sir but it isn’t,” Timothy said awkwardly then turned to Rose pleadingly. “Please tell him. You have to tell him. People are dying.”
Rose had to take several deep breaths before she could manage anything coherent. John was staring at her, pale and shocked and terrified as she sat down at the table and put her hands into her lap.
“The Doctor...he’s real.” Rose finally managed. “And you’re not.”
John said nothing, merely stared for a long time, and for all the ways that she’d imagined this conversation going, Rose had never thought it would be quite like this. Finally, he placed the watch deliberately down on the table and pulled out a second chair beside Rose.
“What do you mean I’m not real?” he said, voice sharp. “How can you tell me that I’m not real?”
Rose felt her lip begin to tremble. “Cos you’re not.”
John scoffed and stood up, turning away from her. “This is ludicrous...”
“He made you up,” Rose explained desperately, rising to meet him. “Like as a cover story, so he could hide from the Family. Only they found us so...” she swallowed. “Now we’ve got to open the watch.”
“Your fathers watch.” John gazed down at the time piece, innocuous on the tabletop.
“It’s not my dads,” Rose admitted. “It’s yours.”
“But,” John stammered. “It can’t be! I never-you told me it belonged to your father!”
“Look I’m sorry!” Rose recoiled from him, wincing guiltily. “It belongs to the Doctor. He asked me to keep it safe. So I did.”
“The Doctor?” John pressed incredulously. “The traveller from my dreams? That madman?”
“Yes.” Rose said angrily. How many times would she have to say it before he started believing her.
John considered the idea and then slowly, comprehension dawned, “They called me that in the village.” He looked dazed at the realisation. “They called me ‘the Doctor’.”
“Yes.” Rose said through gritted teeth. “Because that’s who you are.”
“But...but I’m not him!” John cried. “I’m John Smith! That’s all I want to be! How can this Doctor be real?” John hands flew to his chest, frantically feeling for a heartbeat. “He has two hearts. I’ve only got one! See?”
He invited her to feel but Rose merely shook her head.
“That’s because he changed himself,” she explained quietly. “He changed into a human to keep himself safe.”
“No, but I remember!” John was shaking his head vehemently. “I remember my childhood! My-my schooling, my family. Meeting you! Our courtship Rose, all of it and-and the day we were married. Everything.” he gazed beseechingly at her. “Don’t you?”
“Fake memories,” Rose said dully before holding up her left hand. “Fake wedding rings too.”
“But-but...” he stammered, reaching for the ring on his own finger, obviously still struggling to wrap his brain around this startling revelation. He dropped his voice down to a whisper and shot a sideways glance at Tim before continuing. “I remember our wedding night. I remember you came to me...”
Come closer.
They all stiffened and stared down at the watch.
“Can you hear it?” Timothy whispered.
Closer. Closer.
John carefully took the watch up again and paced the floor slowly, mouth open.
“It’s whispering to me,” he said, voice hushed as he slowly moved across the room. “Like...like he’s...sleeping.”
Watching John with the watch, cradling it in both hands like some precious jewel, Rose’s chest expanded until she felt she might burst. Holding the air in for as long as she could, she felt like she was about to rupture something from the tension.
And then Timothy spoke.
“Why did it speak to me?” he asked tentatively.
“Oh, low-level telepathic field.” John said and Rose let out her breath in a short gasp. This wasn’t John speaking - the Doctor was speaking through him. “You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing-” he stopped abruptly and took a sharp breath, John’s voice wobbling with fear as he asked, “What was...?”
“That was him,” Rose told him, her voice trembling too. “That was the Doctor. He sort of...leaks through. Sometimes.”
John abruptly threw the watch onto the table and backed away from it. The clatter of it against the wood made Rose jump but Timothy leapt forward, face creasing.
“Don’t!” he said, upset. “It told me to find you. It wants to be held.”
“Just how long have you had it for?” Rose demanded as the boy picked up the time piece in his hands, reverently, familiarly.
Timothy looked somewhat abashed. “Just today.”
“So what, you just nicked off with it because it spoke to you?” Rose demanded. “You never thought you should’ve left it alone? Talking watches? Not exactly normal is it?”
“Well,” Timothy said, abashed. “I took it without really thinking. And then...I didn’t want to bring it back. I was...” his eyes flickered, almost imperceptively over to John before he swallowed. “Too afraid.”
Rose’s brow puckered. “Afraid of what?” she asked and Timothy snuck a look at John again, his eyes dark and wide.
“The Doctor.” He said.
Rose was gobsmacked. She had thought many things of the Doctor, but she couldn’t imagine being truly frightened of him. “Why would you be scared of him?” she asked, bemused.
“Because...I’ve seen him.” Timothy admitted and he looked both terrified and awed at the same time, his eyes alight with a fervent glow and his voice hushed. “He’s like...fire and ice and rage. He’s like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun...”
“Stop it,” John whispered, terrified.
“He’s ancient and forever,” Timothy continued breathlessly, refusing to yield. “He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe!”
“Stop!” John hissed. “I said stop it.”
“And...he’s wonderful.” Timothy finished with a small smile before turning to Rose sombrely. “I’ve seen you too you know - through his eyes. Glowing with the light of time itself. You had the whole universe at your command and whatever you desired it granted you. The Bad Wolf.”
Rose felt the hairs on her arms lift at his words and she shivered, just as there was the sound of an explosion outside. All three of them jumped and flocked to the window where they could see giant fireballs scorching the nearby village.
“They’re destroying it!” Rose said aghast.
“They’re trying to bring you out of hiding,” Timothy observed, his face pale. John was even paler, his freckles standing out in sharp relief in the pale light when the boy turned to look up at him. “You have to do something.”
“Me?” John backpedalled the moment he realised who the boy was talking to, hands held out defensively and voice rising to a shriek. “But what can I do? I’m just a history teacher! I’m not even that - I’m-I’m nothing! I’m a story!”
He let loose a sob that he quickly stifled but Rose knew him well enough to see that he was barely holding himself together. He looked like a man whose reality had just been shattered (which of course he was) and he was so close to tipping over the edge that if she didn’t calm him down now he was going to lose it completely and then he wouldn’t be any use to anyone.
“But you’re not just a history teacher John!” she appealed to him. “Cos somewhere in there, deep down, you’re still the Doctor. And he’s the most amazing, brilliant man I’ve ever met.”
She looked up at him intensely, willing him to understand. Instead of fronting up as she had hoped though, John just looked at her - like she was some sort of stranger.
“You love him,” he realised quietly and Rose, who had never been good at schooling her face, couldn’t help the look of longing that bubbled up at John’s words. A look of horrified realisation swelled and budded on his face in return. “All along you loved him and not me!”
“No hang on!” Rose protested, reaching for him. “That’s not...”
“I still look like him don’t I?” John continued wretchedly, dodging her. “Were you pretending all along? Pretending I was him?”
“Of course I wasn’t!” Rose said, pleading as she reached out to him. Yet again he evaded her. “John you’ve gotta believe me...”
“Why should I when you’ve been lying to me this whole time!” John cried and although she flinched at the ugly truth of his words, Rose still rounded back on him angrily.
“Because I was trying to keep you safe!” She yelled, her voice breaking off into a dry sob. It wouldn’t be long now until she started crying in earnest now though. She could already feel the pressure building up behind her eyes, at the back of her throat. Her heart beat frantically against her corset and John was staring at her again, staring like he’d never seen her before.
Another explosion, much closer, abruptly shook the foundations of the little cottage. “It’s getting closer,” Tim reported worriedly from the window and John took advantage of the boy’s distraction to pluck the watch from his hand.
“I’ll take this to them!” he decided. “If I give them the watch then they’ll leave and I can stay as I am!”
Rose was shocked at the sudden turn he had taken. “You can’t!” she protested.
“If they want the Doctor,” John said, breathing heavily. “Then they can have him! I’ll have no part in this!”
“Don’t you dare!” Rose threatened, snatching for the watch. “I won’t let you!”
“But if they get what they want...” John began pleadingly, cradling the timepiece safely in his hands.
“Then everyone dies.” Rose said flatly, and as she spoke the dam broke and her tears finally began to fall in earnest. “John, if the Doctor dies then the Family lives forever. They’ll kill an’ kill ‘til there’s nothing left to kill and then? They’ll go onto the next planet. And the next. And the next. Until there’s nothing left. No Earth, no universe, no nothing.”
John’s breath hitched. Tim looked pale. Rose stood there and trembled a moment, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides before she finished with a cold, flat, “So you can’t.”
It may have been cruel but at least her words had the desired effect. John broke down completely, sobbing desperately and all Rose could do was hold her arms out to him and let him fall into them.
~*~
Timothy left them be with a final warning about how dire the situation was. John said nothing, even after his sobs had abated and Rose had guided him to the narrow padded bench that stretched along the wall near the fireplace. They sat there, side by side and silent. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next, least of all Rose.
She knew they were wasting time, knew that the Family were destroying the village while they sat there and yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. She’d been waiting so long that now it was happening she felt like time had come to a standstill. The world outside could have been frozen and she wouldn’t have known or cared.
Looking down where John held the watch limply in one hand, she abruptly reached out to place her hand over his, only to hesitate at the last moment. Instead her fingertips alighted on the thin, bony wrist that protruded from beneath the hem of his jacket and John startled at the surprising intimacy of the caress.
“I wanted to wait ‘til after Christmas you know,” she admitted in a whisper, fingertips tracing the shape of ligaments and tendons and veins beneath the pale skin. “I wanted to give you something worth living for cos...I knew I’d be the one to take it all away.” As she spoke her fingers slipped lower, to the heel of his palm.
“Really?” John whispered and he looked so grateful, so hopeful that Rose knew that somehow, amazingly, she’d said the right thing. Smiling tentatively, she reached down to fully cover his hand and the watch with her own, then gasped out loud as a barrage of images assaulted her mind.
She saw the Christmas that would never be - the silver comb shining in her hair as she presented John with a book and he accepted the token with a soft kiss of thanks. His long-fingered hand pressing against her swollen belly, eyes bright as he read stories from his journal to their unborn child. Riding in a car, a picnic basket nestled in the backseat between the children - laughing. The shouts and screams of youngsters playing behind the trees in the clearing they’d chosen...
And then a fireplace surrounded with books and the two of them curled up like cats, a small child crumpled contentedly in his arms. Grandchild she thought, unbidden when she saw the deep set lines around his eyes and the salt and pepper of his hair. Seeing her watching him, John extricated a hand curled painfully with arthritis and reached for her. Rose met him halfway, her fingers just as crooked, but somehow still sliding easily into place.
Their hands still fitted together perfectly...
“Did you see?” John gasped as the images stopped, his eyes bright with tears. Rose however, felt nothing but sadness.
“Yeah. I saw.” She smiled tenuously at him and John’s face slowly fell back into melancholy. “Maybe he can see it? You know - what could’ve been.”
“What cannot be,” John corrected her softly and Rose eyed him with surprise. “I could stay,” he confessed. “We could run away from here and wait them out.” He paused here and drew his fingers over the watch. “But we both know that isn’t what is meant to be. Don’t we?”
Rose said nothing, too overcome and too much in shock and it was all just too much. John carefully gathered her into his arms and kissed her forehead, rocking a little as he held her.
“Thank you.” He murmured and Rose squeezed her eyes shut against her tears.
“For what?” she hiccupped finally.
“For making me better,” he whispered against her ear, his arms readjusting around her the better to hold her to him before releasing her enough to look her in the eye. “For wanting me to stay. But I can’t any longer. I can’t let anyone else get hurt. I can’t let you get hurt.”
“John...” Rose began but he quickly interrupted her.
“Oh Rose. Rose, can’t you see why? Can’t you understand?” John brushed her hair back tenderly as he spoke so that he could cup her face without any obstructions. “I’m just a history teacher. I can’t save anyone from those...creatures. I can’t keep you safe-” he paused to brush a kiss over her forehead and just breathe her in. “I can’t. But the Doctor can.”
Rose nodded and gave a quiet sob. She knew that he was right. That didn’t make it hurt any less.
“But you’re not just a history teacher,” she choked. “You’re brilliant!”
“But that’s all down to him isn’t it?” John said sadly, his voice resigned. “Everything I am came from him.”
“Everything?” Rose laughed ruefully as John cupped her face again and then kissed her softly.
“I love you,” he whispered, breath trembling against her lips. “Whatever happens, you have to know that I loved you, and it was real.”
“Yeah,” she returned, voice just as shaky. “Yeah I know. Me too.”
And then he kissed her, long and longingly and Rose poured as much of herself into the kiss as she could, knowing beyond all doubt that this would be her last chance to show him.
“Rose.” John whispered against her lips, a tender hand against her cheek, stroking her hair. “Oh my Rose...”
She held his hand close to her cheek, lip trembling uncontrollably, and then kissed him again. “Don’t go.” She begged.
John turned his hand in hers to twine their fingers. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. Swallowed. “You know I must.”
Drawing himself up, John readjusted himself where he sat and Rose held his hand a moment longer as he considered the fob watch. With a deft flick of his thumb, the lid opened and the face glowed with an otherworldly light. Rose gripped his hand tighter as tendrils of gold unfurled towards him and he almost seemed to breathe them in.
And then at the last moment he turned to her, his face awash with golden light and Rose saw that he was crying.
“I don’t want to go!” he blurted, his hand clutching hers with all the desperation of a dying man.
Her heart broke for him so completely in that moment that she felt it almost as a physical manifestation. But it was too late for him - far too late. Barely had he finished speaking when the light dissipated and he let out a pained gasp, eyes slamming shut and the glow faded away entirely.
The silence that followed was finally punctuated by a pained groan from between clenched teeth as his body was wracked by several painful looking spasms. His hand gripped hers tighter with each one but Rose did nothing, said nothing. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Not even as he stood, his hand slipping from hers. He shut the watch again with a resounding click and then opened his eyes, tears still wet on his cheeks and jaw tense.
He didn’t say a word to her, didn’t look at her, merely stumbled to the door and when he reached it he paused for a moment with his head bowed and a hand on the frame to steady himself before stepping out into the night.
And once John Smith was gone, truly gone, Rose buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
->