1x06: The Tenth Sister (3/3)
Title: The Tenth Sister
Author: millylicious
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: When the Doctor's plan for an anniversary celebration is ruined, his back-up plan leads them to meet with one of Rose's favorite authors. But celebration is the last thing on their mind when it becomes obvious that something is wrong - something that could threaten the life and sanity of everyone it crosses path with.
Author's notes: Thanks to shinyopals for all the help and to everyone who provided assistance and compassion. A bit of a scare, some humor and a pinch of romance.
Episode 6 of a virtual series at the_altverse , following The Stuff of Nightmares last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
The Doctor walked out of the TARDIS still scratching the back of his neck, trying to make sense of the readings the ship had provided him with. He had been able to trace something, but it was no longer localized around the Thames. If the TARDIS were to be trusted - and he liked to think she was - the phenomena had spread all over the city like a mist. It might explain how oddly calm the river banks were, with only a few people here and there. But he would have noticed something of that magnitude, he simply would have. He was so focused on his thoughts that he almost walked straight into Mrs Brook. The look of bewilderment on her face made him freeze where he stood.
“Oh. This is… a…” he began, trying to come with some explanation for having just stepped out of a police box. How much had she seen, he wondered as he tried to read her expression. She did not look afraid, but she regarded him with a sort of astonishment that bordered on wonder. “What are you doing here?”
The woman gave a quick shake of the head, as though she was trying to recover her senses. “Your wife!”
The Doctor felt his heart sink. “What happened to Rose?”
“She asked me to come and get you! Oh, such terrible things, Doctor!”
She reached forward and grabbed his wrist, pulling him behind her as she turned in the direction of the Austen home. The Doctor did not move.
He couldn’t.
The moment she touched him, his head was filled with fire. Nearly a millennium of memories came rushing back, all fighting for his primary focus. Then came things he had no recognition of, events of unspeakable nature. They were made of violence and blood, the likes of which only a Time Lord brain could bear. Behind his eyelids, the images were vivid, pushing him to the brim of insanity.
He saw the vortex. He saw the end of all things. He saw Rose.
He jerked his wrist free, stumbling back. He stopped only when his back hit the TARDIS, the doors creaking faintly under the impact.
“Interesting,” Mrs Brook said, tilting her head to one side and cocking an eyebrow at him. She did not look the least bit troubled by what had just occurred. “I’ve never seen anyone on whom the effects were so strong.”
He massaged his wrist where she had touched him, feeling the ripples of alien energy continue making their way through his entire body. His nervous system was on high alert as it tried to fight the sudden invasion. “What are you?”
“Humans always were my favourite playthings. They’re always so surprising.”
As she spoke, her curls started to fall around her face like someone was undoing her hair, of their own accord. The shift in her skin tone was subtle, but definitely there. It had a shine to it now, almost like marble.
“What are you?” the Doctor enquired again, eyes wide.
“I could ask the same thing, Doctor. Your essence… it’s human but it’s… it’s different.”
The changes had been so subtle and yet the transformation was undeniable. The woman that stood before him looked like a ghostly echo of Mrs Brook. He suspected that she still did not hold her true form, because he had no idea what she truly was. He needed to get her to talk.
Thankfully, that was something he knew a thing or two about.
“We all have our secrets. Seems to me you’ve been keeping a lot.”
The alien laughed and it was one of the most horrible things he had ever heard. His skin felt like ice where she had touched him.
“Oh, Doctor. I’ve told no lie - simply implied things. I love this era. People are so willing to believe anything as long as it flatters their fancy. They’re so stupid, humans would be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.”
“Oi!” the Doctor let out, feeling offended on behalf of his own humanity.
“But they are. I never did understand how my sisters could act so below their own ranks and submit to them so,” the alien continued, disgust evident in her voice.
“Sisters?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and they flared - actually flared - then were back to normal.
“I’ve been here before, Doctor. I’ve been here for centuries, caught in this bare land, never suspecting that a city of this magnitude was developing right above me. Not that anyone would know. Do you know how much it hurts when someone destroys a statue of you?”
He frowned, pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place.
“It’s like they’re clawing your skin off. They pick and they choose like they know what’s best for them. But we know. I know. My sisters forgot. They fell in love with this rubbish race. All nine of them. They forgot that the humans were supposed to submit to us.”
The more she spoke, the quicker the changes in her appearance. She was growing agitated and careless. Her skin was the colour of porcelain and her hair fell in long waves around her. Her entire body had shifted and looked nearly skeletal now, the hard skin tight around the bone.
“When the humans decided that they had enough of me, that my inspiration was no longer worth their worship, my sisters made sure I would never again trouble them. They imprisoned me, fat lot of good that did them. A few thousand years later, I make it out and what do I learn? Their humans had had enough of them too. And you know what my sisters did, Doctor?”
He knew. “They went home.”
Her face was twisted in a grimace. Anger was radiating from her and he could feel it begin to affect him, as though it was making its way through every pore of his skin.
“They went home,” she repeated. She took a step in his direction, but he held his ground. She was mere inches away from him now and everything in his body was telling him to recoil. He had never been one to run though and today would be no different.
Especially since he knew exactly what she was.
“You’re a muse.”
She seemed rather pleased with him. “Very good, Doctor”
“You’re the tenth muse,” he added, eyes roaming her face. She was too close and claustrophobia was seizing him, but he simply could not look away or even take a step back - whether he wanted it or not. The TARDIS doors were directly behind him and opening them to take refuge in the ship was out of the question since he would allow her entry too.
“I was right. You’re not like the rest of them, you do have a semblance of a brain, at the very least.”
“Well. Bit more than that, really.”
The muse laughed again and he swallowed hard. Next, she reached up and touched his face with the tip of her fingers. Her skin was icy cold and her touch chilled him to the bone.
“I like to think I’m the best. My sisters were always so selfless and depended so on humans, whereas I kept my strength. Even trapped, my inspiration made it through the centuries. Tragedy, poetry, comedy… It bears no comparison to the strength one can gain from my own speciality.”
He needed no help to know just what he meant. It was the very thing that filled his mind with thoughts of Rose, despite being the one in presence of the muse and in direct danger. It was the thing that left him unable to move.
“Fear.”
She threw her head back and her laughter came again, though her mouth remained close. Yet, the sound filled his head, echoing in the recesses of his mind. She was using telepathy.
He knew the transformation was complete then. She had given up all pretences of humanity and the being that stood before him was the very race that had come to Earth millenniums before, just one piece of Greek mythology that he knew had alien origins.
“This race is filled with fear, Doctor, and I will suck them dry. All these thoughts, this endless rotation of possibilities that flash through their mind at the slightest hint of shadows. It’s delicious.”
He could feel the full strength of her power. It left him terrified to speak, the very thoughts she was referring to taking over the images his eyes were perceiving and replacing them with pictures of Rose and death. Rose on the ground, barely breathing. Rose with blood staining her clothes. Rose, staring blankly at the sky, life gone from her eyes.
He fell to his knees.
“I have everything I need right here to gather enough strength to allow me revenge. My sisters will weep and everyone will know my wrath.”
The Doctor remained still long after the muse had gone, fighting an internal battle he wasn’t sure he could win.
--
Rose thought the sound would make her mad. They had had to let go of Clara, unable to contain her, and she was back to playing the same song over and over again, the very one that had never left Rose’s mind for the last day. At the first sound of foot steps, she glanced up, expecting to see Mrs Brook return with the Doctor.
The sight was both horrifying and awe inspiring. The woman she had known as Mrs Brook was standing in the doorway, locks of her long brown hair slithering around her like snakes. Her irises had turned a fiery orange, the pupils a bright yellow, and her skin was the colour of snow. Though she was still wearing the same dress, it fell differently against her body and Rose realized that it was because she stood taller than before, her limbs now long and thin. It brought to memory the pictures of Medusa Rose had both loved and feared as a child; the creature was equally fascinating and terrifying. She was also very much alone.
Jumping to her feet, Rose reached out for Jane and she pulled the woman behind her.
“What are you?”
Mrs Brook focussed her eyes on Rose and the song in her head grew louder, making her feel as though her skull was about to split open.
“Your husband had such questions too,” came a voice through the chaos, though Rose’s eyes were filled with tears and she saw nothing. “But I have no need for you. I only need Jane.”
Just like its echo in Rose’s head, the song Clara was playing grew louder and more frantic, as though she was hammering away at the keys. Rose felt Jane grab her hand and she squeezed it in response, trying her best to offer comfort though she herself had none. “What do you need her for?”
“Her uncertainties and fears. They are… unique.”
The creature took a step in their direction and Rose knew what her only option was. Run.
Rose pulled Jane behind her, trying her best to maintain her balance. The piano was becoming more faint as they ran down the corridors, though perhaps it was only covered by the sound of her own frantic heartbeat. She was certain that she could still hear footsteps behind them though, so she hurriedly turned one last corner and made for Jane’s room. She closed the door behind them just in time, as it was followed by a loud pounding. Rose put her back to the door, hoping it would hold.
“He always liked the ending...”
Jane's voice was barely audible over the chaos in Rose's mind. Her eyes watered as she tried to focus on the task at hand and separate the pure inspiration brought on by the alien from reality. Reaching out a shaking hand, she grasped the fabric of Jane's sleeve, as much to steady herself as to gain the woman's attention.
“Who did? Jane?”
Through her blurry vision, Rose saw Jane look up and even in her state, she could discern the pain that twisted her features.
“My father. He loved happy endings. He said things end well, as they ought to, at least sometimes.”
The banging against the door continued, having grown in strength and pace since it had first started. Beyond the threshold, they could perceive agitation punctuated by furious shrieks and cries of horror. Yet, for a moment, everyone and everything within the confines of Jane's room stood perfectly still. The two women stood face to face, both bracing themselves by holding on to the other's arms. In the recesses of Rose's mind, at the eye of the storm, she felt things fully fall into place. It made perfect sense, even though she could not explain it. Jane needed to finish the book. It was the one thing that had been out of order since the start, growing exponentially worse as time went by.
“He was right, Jane. Sometimes it ends well. You need to finish it the way it should be, Jane.”
Rose's steady voice had a calming effect on them both and after a short moment, Jane gave a small nod, tears streaming down her face. When she pulled away, turning to the writing desk to start collecting the pages, Rose smiled and followed her lead. She had only two pages in hand when the pain brought her to her knees. Like a tidal wave, the chaos of voices and images had only pulled back to come back more devastating. Rose bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out, attempting to conceal her leg failing her by picking up the pages that had fallen to the ground.
The woman was not easily fooled though and she reached down to take Rose's free hand in hers, helping her back to her feet. Outside, the screams grew louder and more desperate, as though the muse had knowledge of their actions. She must have, Rose's own voice echoed in her mind amidst the whirlwind that clouded her judgement. Her suspicions were confirmed when at once the door flew open. This time, the cry was out of her lips before she could even think of holding it back.
“Get back!” Rose heard herself shout, feeling as though the room around her was pulsating. It was probably best that her instincts had seemingly taken over, because her brain barely responded to any prompts beyond primal fear. She was conscious of Jane's grip on her fingers and the feel of paper in her other hand, but it was difficult to remember what task they were attempting to accomplish.. The muse smiled and it chilled Rose to the bone.
“Get back,” Rose's words echoed back to her, though it came from the muse's direction. It was her own voice, but it sounded different. There was a macabre mocking tone to it.
In Rose's head, the voices grew louder and she could make out phrases here and here. Some were from her past, some from her present and hopefully, some were from the alien's frightful inspiration powers and would never go on to be part of her future. She was barely conscious of having fallen to the ground, of Jane calling out for her.
“You need to finish the book, Jane..” she thought she heard herself say, though with the alien in close proximity she couldn’t be sure. There was movement behind her, but she was so far gone she doubted even that.
“It’s finished. Rose! The ending. It was always there.”
Jane’s hands closed around hers and she waved pages in front of Rose’s eyes. Still, the alien was advancing towards them. Suddenly, she heard a cry and a human shape jumped into the room, its long arms wrapping around the alien’s waist and pulling her back. The creature shrieked and its feet kicked, but the arms held on.
“You need to burn them. All the alternate endings! Burn them!”
She instantly recognized the Doctor’s voice and it brought her back to Earth. Putting aside the precious pages Jane had just handed to her, she grabbed everything else. She knew the rest of the script was tucked away in Jane’s drawer, all the pages surrounding them part of the endings and doubts that were feeding the alien. Together with Jane, she gathered them all as the Doctor struggled with the muse.
It shrieked loudly and its skin began to crack when Jane threw the first stack of pages in the fireplace. The Doctor ducked, letting go of the alien. As more pages burnt, the creature’s skin cracked like glass, flames appearing to come from within. Rose reached into her pocket, taking out the page she had taken from Jane’s room the night before. She threw it in the fire and the flames completely took over the muse’s body. Rose felt herself thrown to the ground, the heavy weight of the Doctor’s body making it impossible to move. She heard Jane cough next to her and she tried to call out for her, but her voice was muffled by the Doctor’s clothing. She pushed against his chest and he pulled back. He was on his knees, looking her over with worry.
“All right?”
She nodded, because she truly was. All the chaos of fears and voices had gone, leaving in its place an immense sense of relief. It was like letting go of a very heavy burden and she smiled, before pulling him into a tight embrace.
--
A good night of sleep later, Jane and Rose were both standing by the Thames. Fresh air would be good after spending so much time locked inside, Rose had offered. The TARDIS stood a few feet away, the Doctor busy setting up the coordinates for their next travel. She knew he had only gone ahead because he had understood her unspoken desire to talk with Jane on her own.
The Doctor had explained a lot, though he had only had to fill a few holes here in there. The muse had placed so much of her recovery into Jane’s doubts and fears that destroying the physical evidence of them had done the trick. Not that fear was completely gone, it would never cease to exist, but the catalyst of such terrors as the ones they had just experienced was most certainly a thing of the past. Clara’s fingers would recover and Amelia had returned home, no longer scared out of her wits by the cook. The Doctor had expressed some fears that Aubrey may be left scarred by her hallucinations, but Rose dared hope that given time, she too would get better.
The tune had been a bit of a siren song, a way for the muse to work her way into people’s subconscious. Different people perceived it differently. Rose and Clara had both heard the song, while others around them had been affected by the ripples in a different manner - nightmares for a few like Amelia, exhaustion for some others like the Doctor. She was just thankful that the Doctor had been able to recover as he had, coming to his senses fast enough to help them save the day and their own lives.
“When my father died...” Jane began, then paused, her eyes on the Thames as she appeared to take a moment to collect her thoughts. Rose fought to swallow the lump in her throat, her own familiar pain echoing the sadness she could hear in the other woman's voice. Jane turned to her, revealing red-rimmed eyes. “When Father died, I stopped believing in the stories he told me as a girl. I couldn't fathom that happy endings existed in a world that would take him from me.”
A chilly gust of wind picked up tendrils of Rose's hair and made the brim of Jane's bonnet dance back and forth as the two women regarded each other. They both understood, without the need for words. As she tucked the loose curls behind her ears, Rose blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay. Behind them, she heard the TARDIS doors open. She could sense the Doctor standing there and knew that he had chosen to stay back to allow them time to talk. Jane had heard as well and she glanced at him over her shoulder. When she turned back to Rose, there was a knowing smile on her face.
“But then... I look at you two, and what you can do. You came and you quelled my fears. You're right, Rose...”
Jane picked Rose's left hand, the fabric of her glove soft against her skin. The older woman brushed her thumb gently over Rose's wedding band. “Sometimes things end well. And some ends are just beginnings.”
With a soft squeeze of Rose's fingers, Jane made to leave but Rose's voice stopped her.
“I'll make sure to get a copy of your book, when it's published. I predict it'll be a hit, Pride and Prejudice.”
The woman frowned and it only took a second for Rose to realize the cause of Jane's confusion. She barely resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, which was fortunate because had she done so, she would have missed what followed. The confusion faded quickly, leaving place to delight. “It's First Impressions, actually. But I like that. Pride and Prejudice...”
Jane seemed to repeat it over in her head a few times, then she smiled brightly at her before turning away and merging with the London streets crowd, which had returned to its normal volume after dissipating under the effects of the muse’s presence. Rose's eyes followed her until she turned into a perpendicular street, her cheeks still flushed from the embarrassment of her accidental revelation. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Doctor's approach but she said nothing.
Her hair was losing its hopeless battle against the wind, almost making her wish she had accepted Amelia's offer of a bonnet. Feeling a soft weight against her lower back, she leaned into the touch for a short moment, then turned to face her husband. His arm around her waist pulled her closer and he wordlessly enveloped her in a comforting embrace. The winter storm and city life rang loud in her ears as she pressed her face against his chest, but it wasn't long before one sound fought its way through, muting everything else around it. It was like a beacon. Thump thump. Thump thump. The beating of his single heart. They remained like this for a long moment, neither of them willing to move.
“My original anniversary plans would have gone much better,” the Doctor finally said, so matter-of-factually that she could not help what came next. The laughter rose from deep inside, filling her with a warmth made of such unadulterated joy and love that she reached up to kiss him soundly even as she laughed still. She could feel his own lips form a smile under hers and when she pulled back, his face was the picture of contentment.
“Wouldn't be a proper Doctor and Rose anniversary if it did, now would it?
He beamed at her words, then pulled her in for a bone crushing hug. When she whispered in his ear that they still had some private celebrating to do, he gave her another squeeze, then pulled back abruptly and grabbed her hand. He started running before she could guess his intentions and the sudden momentum almost made her trip. She recovered nicely, laughing all the way to the TARDIS.
Sometimes, things did end well.
Part 1 | Part 2
Next week: "The Stolen Scion" by gin_and_ashes
Author: millylicious
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: When the Doctor's plan for an anniversary celebration is ruined, his back-up plan leads them to meet with one of Rose's favorite authors. But celebration is the last thing on their mind when it becomes obvious that something is wrong - something that could threaten the life and sanity of everyone it crosses path with.
Author's notes: Thanks to shinyopals for all the help and to everyone who provided assistance and compassion. A bit of a scare, some humor and a pinch of romance.
Episode 6 of a virtual series at the_altverse , following The Stuff of Nightmares last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
The Doctor walked out of the TARDIS still scratching the back of his neck, trying to make sense of the readings the ship had provided him with. He had been able to trace something, but it was no longer localized around the Thames. If the TARDIS were to be trusted - and he liked to think she was - the phenomena had spread all over the city like a mist. It might explain how oddly calm the river banks were, with only a few people here and there. But he would have noticed something of that magnitude, he simply would have. He was so focused on his thoughts that he almost walked straight into Mrs Brook. The look of bewilderment on her face made him freeze where he stood.
“Oh. This is… a…” he began, trying to come with some explanation for having just stepped out of a police box. How much had she seen, he wondered as he tried to read her expression. She did not look afraid, but she regarded him with a sort of astonishment that bordered on wonder. “What are you doing here?”
The woman gave a quick shake of the head, as though she was trying to recover her senses. “Your wife!”
The Doctor felt his heart sink. “What happened to Rose?”
“She asked me to come and get you! Oh, such terrible things, Doctor!”
She reached forward and grabbed his wrist, pulling him behind her as she turned in the direction of the Austen home. The Doctor did not move.
He couldn’t.
The moment she touched him, his head was filled with fire. Nearly a millennium of memories came rushing back, all fighting for his primary focus. Then came things he had no recognition of, events of unspeakable nature. They were made of violence and blood, the likes of which only a Time Lord brain could bear. Behind his eyelids, the images were vivid, pushing him to the brim of insanity.
He saw the vortex. He saw the end of all things. He saw Rose.
He jerked his wrist free, stumbling back. He stopped only when his back hit the TARDIS, the doors creaking faintly under the impact.
“Interesting,” Mrs Brook said, tilting her head to one side and cocking an eyebrow at him. She did not look the least bit troubled by what had just occurred. “I’ve never seen anyone on whom the effects were so strong.”
He massaged his wrist where she had touched him, feeling the ripples of alien energy continue making their way through his entire body. His nervous system was on high alert as it tried to fight the sudden invasion. “What are you?”
“Humans always were my favourite playthings. They’re always so surprising.”
As she spoke, her curls started to fall around her face like someone was undoing her hair, of their own accord. The shift in her skin tone was subtle, but definitely there. It had a shine to it now, almost like marble.
“What are you?” the Doctor enquired again, eyes wide.
“I could ask the same thing, Doctor. Your essence… it’s human but it’s… it’s different.”
The changes had been so subtle and yet the transformation was undeniable. The woman that stood before him looked like a ghostly echo of Mrs Brook. He suspected that she still did not hold her true form, because he had no idea what she truly was. He needed to get her to talk.
Thankfully, that was something he knew a thing or two about.
“We all have our secrets. Seems to me you’ve been keeping a lot.”
The alien laughed and it was one of the most horrible things he had ever heard. His skin felt like ice where she had touched him.
“Oh, Doctor. I’ve told no lie - simply implied things. I love this era. People are so willing to believe anything as long as it flatters their fancy. They’re so stupid, humans would be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.”
“Oi!” the Doctor let out, feeling offended on behalf of his own humanity.
“But they are. I never did understand how my sisters could act so below their own ranks and submit to them so,” the alien continued, disgust evident in her voice.
“Sisters?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and they flared - actually flared - then were back to normal.
“I’ve been here before, Doctor. I’ve been here for centuries, caught in this bare land, never suspecting that a city of this magnitude was developing right above me. Not that anyone would know. Do you know how much it hurts when someone destroys a statue of you?”
He frowned, pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place.
“It’s like they’re clawing your skin off. They pick and they choose like they know what’s best for them. But we know. I know. My sisters forgot. They fell in love with this rubbish race. All nine of them. They forgot that the humans were supposed to submit to us.”
The more she spoke, the quicker the changes in her appearance. She was growing agitated and careless. Her skin was the colour of porcelain and her hair fell in long waves around her. Her entire body had shifted and looked nearly skeletal now, the hard skin tight around the bone.
“When the humans decided that they had enough of me, that my inspiration was no longer worth their worship, my sisters made sure I would never again trouble them. They imprisoned me, fat lot of good that did them. A few thousand years later, I make it out and what do I learn? Their humans had had enough of them too. And you know what my sisters did, Doctor?”
He knew. “They went home.”
Her face was twisted in a grimace. Anger was radiating from her and he could feel it begin to affect him, as though it was making its way through every pore of his skin.
“They went home,” she repeated. She took a step in his direction, but he held his ground. She was mere inches away from him now and everything in his body was telling him to recoil. He had never been one to run though and today would be no different.
Especially since he knew exactly what she was.
“You’re a muse.”
She seemed rather pleased with him. “Very good, Doctor”
“You’re the tenth muse,” he added, eyes roaming her face. She was too close and claustrophobia was seizing him, but he simply could not look away or even take a step back - whether he wanted it or not. The TARDIS doors were directly behind him and opening them to take refuge in the ship was out of the question since he would allow her entry too.
“I was right. You’re not like the rest of them, you do have a semblance of a brain, at the very least.”
“Well. Bit more than that, really.”
The muse laughed again and he swallowed hard. Next, she reached up and touched his face with the tip of her fingers. Her skin was icy cold and her touch chilled him to the bone.
“I like to think I’m the best. My sisters were always so selfless and depended so on humans, whereas I kept my strength. Even trapped, my inspiration made it through the centuries. Tragedy, poetry, comedy… It bears no comparison to the strength one can gain from my own speciality.”
He needed no help to know just what he meant. It was the very thing that filled his mind with thoughts of Rose, despite being the one in presence of the muse and in direct danger. It was the thing that left him unable to move.
“Fear.”
She threw her head back and her laughter came again, though her mouth remained close. Yet, the sound filled his head, echoing in the recesses of his mind. She was using telepathy.
He knew the transformation was complete then. She had given up all pretences of humanity and the being that stood before him was the very race that had come to Earth millenniums before, just one piece of Greek mythology that he knew had alien origins.
“This race is filled with fear, Doctor, and I will suck them dry. All these thoughts, this endless rotation of possibilities that flash through their mind at the slightest hint of shadows. It’s delicious.”
He could feel the full strength of her power. It left him terrified to speak, the very thoughts she was referring to taking over the images his eyes were perceiving and replacing them with pictures of Rose and death. Rose on the ground, barely breathing. Rose with blood staining her clothes. Rose, staring blankly at the sky, life gone from her eyes.
He fell to his knees.
“I have everything I need right here to gather enough strength to allow me revenge. My sisters will weep and everyone will know my wrath.”
The Doctor remained still long after the muse had gone, fighting an internal battle he wasn’t sure he could win.
--
Rose thought the sound would make her mad. They had had to let go of Clara, unable to contain her, and she was back to playing the same song over and over again, the very one that had never left Rose’s mind for the last day. At the first sound of foot steps, she glanced up, expecting to see Mrs Brook return with the Doctor.
The sight was both horrifying and awe inspiring. The woman she had known as Mrs Brook was standing in the doorway, locks of her long brown hair slithering around her like snakes. Her irises had turned a fiery orange, the pupils a bright yellow, and her skin was the colour of snow. Though she was still wearing the same dress, it fell differently against her body and Rose realized that it was because she stood taller than before, her limbs now long and thin. It brought to memory the pictures of Medusa Rose had both loved and feared as a child; the creature was equally fascinating and terrifying. She was also very much alone.
Jumping to her feet, Rose reached out for Jane and she pulled the woman behind her.
“What are you?”
Mrs Brook focussed her eyes on Rose and the song in her head grew louder, making her feel as though her skull was about to split open.
“Your husband had such questions too,” came a voice through the chaos, though Rose’s eyes were filled with tears and she saw nothing. “But I have no need for you. I only need Jane.”
Just like its echo in Rose’s head, the song Clara was playing grew louder and more frantic, as though she was hammering away at the keys. Rose felt Jane grab her hand and she squeezed it in response, trying her best to offer comfort though she herself had none. “What do you need her for?”
“Her uncertainties and fears. They are… unique.”
The creature took a step in their direction and Rose knew what her only option was. Run.
Rose pulled Jane behind her, trying her best to maintain her balance. The piano was becoming more faint as they ran down the corridors, though perhaps it was only covered by the sound of her own frantic heartbeat. She was certain that she could still hear footsteps behind them though, so she hurriedly turned one last corner and made for Jane’s room. She closed the door behind them just in time, as it was followed by a loud pounding. Rose put her back to the door, hoping it would hold.
“He always liked the ending...”
Jane's voice was barely audible over the chaos in Rose's mind. Her eyes watered as she tried to focus on the task at hand and separate the pure inspiration brought on by the alien from reality. Reaching out a shaking hand, she grasped the fabric of Jane's sleeve, as much to steady herself as to gain the woman's attention.
“Who did? Jane?”
Through her blurry vision, Rose saw Jane look up and even in her state, she could discern the pain that twisted her features.
“My father. He loved happy endings. He said things end well, as they ought to, at least sometimes.”
The banging against the door continued, having grown in strength and pace since it had first started. Beyond the threshold, they could perceive agitation punctuated by furious shrieks and cries of horror. Yet, for a moment, everyone and everything within the confines of Jane's room stood perfectly still. The two women stood face to face, both bracing themselves by holding on to the other's arms. In the recesses of Rose's mind, at the eye of the storm, she felt things fully fall into place. It made perfect sense, even though she could not explain it. Jane needed to finish the book. It was the one thing that had been out of order since the start, growing exponentially worse as time went by.
“He was right, Jane. Sometimes it ends well. You need to finish it the way it should be, Jane.”
Rose's steady voice had a calming effect on them both and after a short moment, Jane gave a small nod, tears streaming down her face. When she pulled away, turning to the writing desk to start collecting the pages, Rose smiled and followed her lead. She had only two pages in hand when the pain brought her to her knees. Like a tidal wave, the chaos of voices and images had only pulled back to come back more devastating. Rose bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out, attempting to conceal her leg failing her by picking up the pages that had fallen to the ground.
The woman was not easily fooled though and she reached down to take Rose's free hand in hers, helping her back to her feet. Outside, the screams grew louder and more desperate, as though the muse had knowledge of their actions. She must have, Rose's own voice echoed in her mind amidst the whirlwind that clouded her judgement. Her suspicions were confirmed when at once the door flew open. This time, the cry was out of her lips before she could even think of holding it back.
“Get back!” Rose heard herself shout, feeling as though the room around her was pulsating. It was probably best that her instincts had seemingly taken over, because her brain barely responded to any prompts beyond primal fear. She was conscious of Jane's grip on her fingers and the feel of paper in her other hand, but it was difficult to remember what task they were attempting to accomplish.. The muse smiled and it chilled Rose to the bone.
“Get back,” Rose's words echoed back to her, though it came from the muse's direction. It was her own voice, but it sounded different. There was a macabre mocking tone to it.
In Rose's head, the voices grew louder and she could make out phrases here and here. Some were from her past, some from her present and hopefully, some were from the alien's frightful inspiration powers and would never go on to be part of her future. She was barely conscious of having fallen to the ground, of Jane calling out for her.
“You need to finish the book, Jane..” she thought she heard herself say, though with the alien in close proximity she couldn’t be sure. There was movement behind her, but she was so far gone she doubted even that.
“It’s finished. Rose! The ending. It was always there.”
Jane’s hands closed around hers and she waved pages in front of Rose’s eyes. Still, the alien was advancing towards them. Suddenly, she heard a cry and a human shape jumped into the room, its long arms wrapping around the alien’s waist and pulling her back. The creature shrieked and its feet kicked, but the arms held on.
“You need to burn them. All the alternate endings! Burn them!”
She instantly recognized the Doctor’s voice and it brought her back to Earth. Putting aside the precious pages Jane had just handed to her, she grabbed everything else. She knew the rest of the script was tucked away in Jane’s drawer, all the pages surrounding them part of the endings and doubts that were feeding the alien. Together with Jane, she gathered them all as the Doctor struggled with the muse.
It shrieked loudly and its skin began to crack when Jane threw the first stack of pages in the fireplace. The Doctor ducked, letting go of the alien. As more pages burnt, the creature’s skin cracked like glass, flames appearing to come from within. Rose reached into her pocket, taking out the page she had taken from Jane’s room the night before. She threw it in the fire and the flames completely took over the muse’s body. Rose felt herself thrown to the ground, the heavy weight of the Doctor’s body making it impossible to move. She heard Jane cough next to her and she tried to call out for her, but her voice was muffled by the Doctor’s clothing. She pushed against his chest and he pulled back. He was on his knees, looking her over with worry.
“All right?”
She nodded, because she truly was. All the chaos of fears and voices had gone, leaving in its place an immense sense of relief. It was like letting go of a very heavy burden and she smiled, before pulling him into a tight embrace.
--
A good night of sleep later, Jane and Rose were both standing by the Thames. Fresh air would be good after spending so much time locked inside, Rose had offered. The TARDIS stood a few feet away, the Doctor busy setting up the coordinates for their next travel. She knew he had only gone ahead because he had understood her unspoken desire to talk with Jane on her own.
The Doctor had explained a lot, though he had only had to fill a few holes here in there. The muse had placed so much of her recovery into Jane’s doubts and fears that destroying the physical evidence of them had done the trick. Not that fear was completely gone, it would never cease to exist, but the catalyst of such terrors as the ones they had just experienced was most certainly a thing of the past. Clara’s fingers would recover and Amelia had returned home, no longer scared out of her wits by the cook. The Doctor had expressed some fears that Aubrey may be left scarred by her hallucinations, but Rose dared hope that given time, she too would get better.
The tune had been a bit of a siren song, a way for the muse to work her way into people’s subconscious. Different people perceived it differently. Rose and Clara had both heard the song, while others around them had been affected by the ripples in a different manner - nightmares for a few like Amelia, exhaustion for some others like the Doctor. She was just thankful that the Doctor had been able to recover as he had, coming to his senses fast enough to help them save the day and their own lives.
“When my father died...” Jane began, then paused, her eyes on the Thames as she appeared to take a moment to collect her thoughts. Rose fought to swallow the lump in her throat, her own familiar pain echoing the sadness she could hear in the other woman's voice. Jane turned to her, revealing red-rimmed eyes. “When Father died, I stopped believing in the stories he told me as a girl. I couldn't fathom that happy endings existed in a world that would take him from me.”
A chilly gust of wind picked up tendrils of Rose's hair and made the brim of Jane's bonnet dance back and forth as the two women regarded each other. They both understood, without the need for words. As she tucked the loose curls behind her ears, Rose blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay. Behind them, she heard the TARDIS doors open. She could sense the Doctor standing there and knew that he had chosen to stay back to allow them time to talk. Jane had heard as well and she glanced at him over her shoulder. When she turned back to Rose, there was a knowing smile on her face.
“But then... I look at you two, and what you can do. You came and you quelled my fears. You're right, Rose...”
Jane picked Rose's left hand, the fabric of her glove soft against her skin. The older woman brushed her thumb gently over Rose's wedding band. “Sometimes things end well. And some ends are just beginnings.”
With a soft squeeze of Rose's fingers, Jane made to leave but Rose's voice stopped her.
“I'll make sure to get a copy of your book, when it's published. I predict it'll be a hit, Pride and Prejudice.”
The woman frowned and it only took a second for Rose to realize the cause of Jane's confusion. She barely resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, which was fortunate because had she done so, she would have missed what followed. The confusion faded quickly, leaving place to delight. “It's First Impressions, actually. But I like that. Pride and Prejudice...”
Jane seemed to repeat it over in her head a few times, then she smiled brightly at her before turning away and merging with the London streets crowd, which had returned to its normal volume after dissipating under the effects of the muse’s presence. Rose's eyes followed her until she turned into a perpendicular street, her cheeks still flushed from the embarrassment of her accidental revelation. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Doctor's approach but she said nothing.
Her hair was losing its hopeless battle against the wind, almost making her wish she had accepted Amelia's offer of a bonnet. Feeling a soft weight against her lower back, she leaned into the touch for a short moment, then turned to face her husband. His arm around her waist pulled her closer and he wordlessly enveloped her in a comforting embrace. The winter storm and city life rang loud in her ears as she pressed her face against his chest, but it wasn't long before one sound fought its way through, muting everything else around it. It was like a beacon. Thump thump. Thump thump. The beating of his single heart. They remained like this for a long moment, neither of them willing to move.
“My original anniversary plans would have gone much better,” the Doctor finally said, so matter-of-factually that she could not help what came next. The laughter rose from deep inside, filling her with a warmth made of such unadulterated joy and love that she reached up to kiss him soundly even as she laughed still. She could feel his own lips form a smile under hers and when she pulled back, his face was the picture of contentment.
“Wouldn't be a proper Doctor and Rose anniversary if it did, now would it?
He beamed at her words, then pulled her in for a bone crushing hug. When she whispered in his ear that they still had some private celebrating to do, he gave her another squeeze, then pulled back abruptly and grabbed her hand. He started running before she could guess his intentions and the sudden momentum almost made her trip. She recovered nicely, laughing all the way to the TARDIS.
Sometimes, things did end well.
Part 1 | Part 2
Next week: "The Stolen Scion" by gin_and_ashes