Mars Ascendant 2/4
Story: Mars Ascendant
Author: wmr
wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler, others
Rated: Probably PG13
Spoilers: Up to VotD, AU from most of what we've heard about S4.
Disclaimer: Never gonna be mine, are they?
Summary: It's not the reality that's the worst, really; it's his perception of it. Of himself.
A pinch-hit fic for
sensiblecat in the OT3 ficathon - prompts will be posted at the end of the fic. Hope you like this! With grateful thanks to
dark_aegis for BRing.
Chapter 1: The Magician
Chapter 2: Bringer of War
“What d’you think? Is this a mistake?”
She’s propped up on her elbow in their bed, her hair hanging in dishevelled strands around her face. Jack frowns. “What? You and me?”
“No, silly!” She swipes at him, but then sobers. “Bein’ here. On the TARDIS. Doesn’t much look like he wants us here.”
It really doesn’t. They’ve been back three days, and instead of getting better it’s getting worse. The Doctor’s more distant than she’s ever seen him. When he’s piloting the TARDIS, he refuses all assistance, and speaks only to offer essential information. When they’re outside, more often than not he leaves the two of them to explore on their own. And when they’re floating in the Vortex he just disappears.
The places they go, too, send a clear message that all isn’t well. A planet with gorgeous trees ablaze with colour; as she’s admiring them, the Doctor comments that, in just two years’ time, the planet’s going to be caught in the crossfire in a war between two other races. Nuclear meltdown will take place.
Another visit’s to Pompeii, where the Doctor deserts them immediately; she sees Jack’s face pale and he tells her, in a voice that’s cracking with emotion, that the Volcano Day he joked about so casually when they first met is the following day. Most of these people, he tells her, won’t survive. He was there, he says, when the volcano erupted - got the timing a bit wrong and only just got out alive. But not before he saw too many people swallowed up by hot ash and debris, collapsed buildings or sheer human panic.
It’s clearly a memory that’s scarred him, and she never knew. He never said. In the end, she walks him back to the TARDIS and just holds him until the Doctor returns.
On yet another trip, they end up outside a gloomy grey-bricked castle. There are lights in all the windows; it’s New Year’s Eve, the Doctor tells them. Unusually communicative, he beckons her to one of the windows. Inside, music is playing and couples are dancing, enjoying themselves, celebrating.
One couple catches her gaze. The woman’s beautifully dressed, with hair piled high on top of her head, and as she dances she’s gazing with obvious love at the man who’s holding her in his arms. They move in time with the dance, and the woman’s face becomes visible. With a shock, she realises.
“It’s Lady Isabella. And Sir Robert. Doctor...”
“New Year’s Eve 1878.” His voice is clipped. Abruptly, he turns and walks off, his coat swinging behind him.
He’s trying to hurt them, both of them. Or, more likely, push them away. And, while once she’d have pushed back as hard as she could, now she’s thinking of more than just herself and what she wants. Not whether being back on the TARDIS is the wrong thing for her, but for the Doctor.
And right now she’s feeling that she really doesn’t know him at all, and certainly not enough to make that decision.
And, of course, she can’t help remembering everything she’s given up to be back here. She’ll never see her mum again - or her dad. Her little sister will grow up without her. She’ll never see Mickey and Jake again. Okay, her ending up here was something of an accident, but she always knew she’d take the opportunity if it came up.
Yet she’s very aware that she can’t blame the Doctor for what she’s given up. He didn’t ask her to come back. He didn’t go and get her back. He didn’t even encourage her, on that beach in Norway, to hope that they could see each other again. He was telling her to let go, to move on.
Now she’s here, and he really had no choice in the matter at all, did he?
“Jack?” she prompts again, and right now she has no idea whether she’s hoping for reassurance or confirmation of her fears.
***
He studies Rose, mulling over what she’s just said. No, this isn’t good for any of them, least of all the Doctor. But he’s been playing a waiting game; after all, someone’s got to crack sooner or later. He just didn’t expect it to be Rose.
He knows this Doctor, probably better than she does. Yes, he’s a stubborn git, but so is Rose. Plus, despite the fact that the Doctor’s damn good at pushing people away - and running away from them - he needs people. Ever since the two of them made their peace over Satellite Five - and he made himself get past the Doctor’s irrational forgiveness of the Master - the Doctor’s tried time and again to get him to travel in the TARDIS with him again. But, of course, he’ll never come right out and say that he wants Jack, or that he needs company. It’s always if you like, or you can if you want, or might as well, eh? Of course, to this Doctor that’s probably the equivalent of an engraved invitation.
So, he fully expected the Doctor - who’s always behaved as if he needed Rose, as if having lost Rose hit him incredibly hard - to drop the distant act and the thinly-veiled moral lessons and start enjoying having her with him again. He didn’t expect this.
“Declaring defeat? That doesn’t sound like the Rose Tyler I know.”
“That was the old me,” she says, not responding to the humour in his voice. “Selfish, only thinkin’ of what I wanted. Told him once, I did, that I’d stay with ‘im for ever. Never asked what he wanted. An’ what did I do when I came back to this universe? Called ‘im. Never once thought that maybe he’d moved on, that he didn’t need me any more.”
“He still came,” Jack points out.
“Yeah, but what choice did he have? I’m dead in this universe, aren’t I? Had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t abandon me.”
He pulls her into his arms. “You’ve always got somewhere else to go. As for being dead in this universe, you’re not sleeping with the ex-head of Torchwood for nothing.” He flashes her a grin. “Still, we’re not running away. It’s time to bring this to a head one way or another. He does need us, even if he finds it easier to pretend otherwise.”
He explains as he slides out of bed, pulling Rose after him. In deference to the Doctor, he puts his jeans on and passes Rose a robe. Silently, her hand in his, he leads the way to the console room.
As he suspected, the Doctor’s there, leaning against the battered old captain’s chair, staring at something on the viewscreen. He looks up as the two of them come in, at first surprised, but then very quickly that same withdrawn look he’s been wearing for days returns.
“We’ve got something to ask you, Doctor. And, whatever your answer is, that’s it. Final decision. Okay?”
The Doctor shrugs. “Ask me, then.”
Jack tightens his grip on Rose’s hand. “Do you want us to leave?”
***
It’s a hell of a gamble. But Jack’s right; it’s the only way. They can’t carry on as they are, and this way forces the Doctor to make a decision while showing him the consequences of his behaviour.
For a moment, barely a second, he looks startled. Then he glances from Jack to her and back to Jack. “You want to leave?” His tone appears completely unconcerned.
But she’s not fooled. There’s a tiny tic in his jaw that she only ever saw when he was desperately upset.
She wants to reassure him, but that’s not going to solve this. He’s so changed - so very changed from the Doctor she knew. This is what Jack meant. And whether it’s the Master, the impact of the Year that Never Was, or just the cumulative effect of losing so many people, it’s hard to watch the man she loves withdraw deeper and deeper into himself and away from everyone else. Well, specifically away from them.
He’s got to step up and say it. They can’t give him an easy way out.
“Jack asked you a question, Doctor. You don’t get to ask us one before you answer it.”
He tugs on his ear. “Considering the number of times I’ve asked you to come with me, Jack, do you really think that’s likely?”
Surprised pleasure briefly flits across Jack’s face. “So, what ‘bout me, then?” she asks. “Okay, I can’t go back to the other universe, but -”
The Doctor meets her gaze, his own faintly hurt. “Seem to remember you once making a promise about how long you were gonna stay with me.”
“I know.” Dropping Jack’s hand, she goes to him, extending her hand to him instead. He takes it. “Was a long time ago, that. Things change. People... change.”
“You’ve changed?” he asks.
“We both have. An’ I didn’t exactly give you a lot of choice, jus’ turning up out of the blue like that, did I?”
“I asked you three times to come with me, Rose Tyler. That’s more than I’ve asked most people. Think Jack’s the only person I’ve asked more often.”
She nods, even though he hasn’t exactly answered her question. “Jus’ needed to be sure it’s still what you want. Hasn’t really seemed like it since you came back to pick us up.” The reference to the two of them, her and Jack, is deliberate.
The Doctor raises an eyebrow, still looking down at her. “Was I being that much of a git?”
“You know exactly what you were doing,” she tells him and, after a moment, he nods.
“I don’t react well to things I don’t want to hear.” He’s looking straight at Jack now.
Jack shrugs, coming closer. “Needed to be said.”
Something flashes in the Doctor’s eyes, almost a warning. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“You think we’re not gettin’ the message, Doctor, don’t you?” She steps back from him, but refuses to let him look away. “Everything dies. Everything ends. Right?”
Looking as serious, as forceful as she’s ever seen him, he nods.
“See, I know that. Got good reason to, after all. But I remember something else. I remember what you said to me on our first date, Doctor. All that matters is here an’ now. Remember that?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “That was different, Rose.”
Shaking her head, she insists, “ ‘S no different. Look, I’ll never ask for more from you than you’re willing to give. Maybe I did before, but I’ve learned better now. But can’t we just enjoy here an’ now an’ stop worryin’ about when it’s all gonna end?”
He sighs, and this time seems to concede, just a little. “Oh, we could. We can. Well, maybe a bit. But, Rose, you can’t just ignore the inevitable. Tried that once. Didn’t work.”
Her heart wrenches for him as she’s taken back to those last weeks together, that time when they desperately tried to pretend they’d never heard the Beast’s warning or the Doctor’s own premonition of a storm coming. They made themselves believe they were living charmed lives, and instead of preparing for what might be coming and spending each day together as if it could be their last they just played oblivious. Oh, how she regretted that afterwards, when she found herself separated from him by an entire universe.
“Yeah, I know.” She grips his hand again. “But there’s a difference between ignorin’ an’ accepting. Yeah, I know some day it’s gonna end. ‘S only human to want to make the most of what we have for now, isn’t it?”
“You’re forgetting.” Jack bumps her shoulder lightly, and his voice is teasing. He’s trying to add some humour to this situation, and she can appreciate that. “He’s not human.”
The Doctor smiles suddenly, and it’s like the sun emerging from behind a dark cloud. “Was once. Human, I mean. Well, it was only for a couple of months, but still. Can’t say I don’t know what it’s like any more.”
She stares. “You were human?”
He shrugs, dropping her hand, and turns back to the console. “Had to hide from some people who would’ve recognised a Time Lord. Like I said, was only for a while. Nothing important.”
It was, but she’s got the message. He’s not going to talk about it. Just like so many other things that have happened to him, either before he met her or in the years she was away. Oh, he might mention them; he might even make a joke of them. But he won’t give details, and he’ll certainly never let them see how badly he was affected.
Not for the first time, she wonders whether it mightn’t be a good idea to meet up with Martha Jones some time. If nothing else, she and Jack might actually get the truth about some of these events the Doctor’s doing his best to keep from them. And why he’s keeping himself so detached, both emotionally and physically - so unlike the way he used to be with her.
“Anyway!” the Doctor continues, and it’s painful to hear the fake brightness in his tone. “We’re all here, you’re awake, I’m awake - no point standing around here nattering all day! You two, get dressed. Quick as you can - I know just the place.”
***
They don’t get it, not really, but it doesn’t matter. They’re staying. That’s all that does. Trying to make them understand’s one thing, but driving them away... no, absolutely not, he never wanted that.
Maybe he should have told Rose how glad he was to have her back. Maybe he should have told her how much he missed her, how hard the past years have been without her. Even if they’d have been hard with her too, she’d still have been here and that would have been something.
Except that he’d probably have lost her - if not on the Valiant, then on the Titanic; what Astrid did, that’s exactly what Rose would have done. Or somewhere else since then.
But he shouldn’t have needed to tell her he’s happy she’s here. He hugged her, didn’t he? So what if he didn’t kiss her back? That’s not the way they were, and it’s better that way. She should have known that.
But how Rose has changed. The old Rose, pre-Canary Wharf Rose, would never have threatened to leave him like this. Wouldn’t have challenged him this much on something he clearly didn’t want to talk about, either. She used to push him, when he first knew her. When did she stop?
His hands aren’t shaking as he sets the co-ordinates. It’s only a trick of the light.
By the time the two of them return, fully dressed and ready to go, they’re almost at their destination and he’s ready to go, bouncing at the console as if time’s gone back three or four years. “Hurry up!” he calls.
“Where are we?” The light of excitement’s back in Rose’s eyes, and it’s only now he’s realising how much he’s missed it. She wasn’t even like this before Sto, but then he was already teaching them a lesson by then, wasn’t he?
Worth it, though. They’ll have got the message, even if they don’t understand it. Time to resume normal relations.
“You’ll see,” he tells her, now running for the door and catching her hand on the way past. He practically drags her outside with him, leaving Jack to follow behind.
They’re in the middle of a city, but unlike any city he’s taken Rose to before. The buildings shimmer, as they’re made of a material not unlike glass - it’s all energy-efficient, and the construction’s designed in such a way that everything reflects everything else and the reflection’s always changing.
“It’s brilliant,” Rose says, and it’s just like old times.
“Yeah.” He can’t help grinning down at her. “And there’s something even better just over here.” Breaking into a run again, he tows her across the road, along the street a little and then halts outside a door. “You know how I kept trying to take you to concerts but we never quite managed it?”
That makes her laugh. “Yeah.”
“Well, you told me once you’d love to see a proper West End musical. Can’t take you there, not now. Should really take you to Broadway, some day, but for now... well, there’s this.”
It’s a theatre, one of the best on this planet, and it’s currently advertising a season of musicals. One’s just about to start - they just have enough time to get tickets.
“Musical theatre?” Jack, who’s come up to join them, grins wickedly. “Isn’t that all a bit camp?”
“Only if it’s Abba,” the Doctor retorts. “Not that I’d have thought you of all people would object to camp, Jack.”
Jack’s grin widens. “Definitely a bit cheeky this time around, Doctor.” He slings his arm around the Doctor’s shoulders. “We going in, then? This I gotta see.”
“What, you lived through the entire twentieth century and you never saw a musical?” He has to stare at Jack, incredulous. Ah, he’s forgotten how much fun it was with the three of them. And it can be again. “Well, come on then!”
Rose tugs on his hand, and reaches out for Jack with her other one. “Yeah! Oh, an’ just for that Abba crack, you’re takin’ me to Mamma Mia. On Broadway. Opening night.”
***
“...I was in a musical theatre production once, did I tell you? Well... not exactly in it. Though Martha was. Unintentionally, of course. She did look a bit out of place in her leather jacket and jeans among all the chorus girls in chicken suits, but what can you do?”
The Doctor’s rambling away as they leave the theatre, he and Rose walking hand-in-hand while Jack follows behind. Talking a lot and saying nothing, as usual. If he recalls correctly from what Martha told him over a few drinks some months after they both left the Doctor, that time with the theatre was also the time they ran into yet more Daleks. Not that the Doctor’s going to mention that. Oh no - far too honest, that would be. Far too confessional.
He’s being very obvious in another way, though. All this holding Rose’s hand, talking away non-stop, and the way he was reminiscing earlier about things he and Rose did together - all designed to rebuild the closeness he and Rose had back then, and to exclude Jack. He’s still every bit as transparent as his previous leather-jacketed self was, glaring at him across the console with a look that said in no uncertain terms, Hands off!
It’s good to see him back to his old self, but the idiot should know he doesn’t need to go to this length. He’s already told the Doctor he’s got prior claim. True, as long as it’s what Rose wants - and he really must talk to her -
“What’s that?”
The alarm in Rose’s voice alerts him, and he looks quickly in the direction she’s indicating. The Doctor’s only a fraction ahead of him as he starts running, and Rose is right beside them.
Up ahead, about forty metres away, someone’s being chased. It’s hardly a fair fight, either: not only is the guy doing the chasing nearly twice the size of the victim, he’s also armed. The victim obviously isn’t, because he’s just running and not attempting to defend himself.
Putting on an extra spurt of speed, he draws his gun, and feels the Doctor’s disapproving gaze on him. “What, you think you can talk him out of shooting?” he retorts. “Think this might have more influence.”
A glance to his other side, where Rose is doing a great job of keeping up with him - she’s fitter than the old days, too - shows him that he’s not the only one armed. The Doctor’s not gonna like that, but tough.
“Stop!” the Doctor yells as they get closer. “Leave him alone!”
The guy with the gun - humanoid, but taller and broader than most hominid races he’s encountered, and with a faint covering of grey fuzz on his skin - yells back, “Stay out of this! It’s none of your business.” Another two shots echo, narrowly missing the little guy, who’s definitely human or close to it.
“It’s always my business when I see a bully at work,” the Doctor retorts.
The little guy, unsurprisingly, isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. He’s changed direction, running straight for them. “Get behind me!” Jack shouts, waving at him.
Big guy’s still giving chase, and now he’s heading their way too, and he’s slowing down, aiming his gun...
...and getting ready to fire at the Doctor.
***
It’s all a blur of fast motion, loud shouts and gunfire.
The guy with the gun’s firing at the Doctor. She’s screaming his name, trying to aim her own weapon without hitting anyone else. Jack’s yelling. The little guy’s screaming “Save me!”, and Jack’s running.
A gunshot fires.
The Doctor tumbles to the ground.
She runs to him - No! Can’t lose him again, not now, not when I’ve only just got him back - but in the fraction of a second it takes to reach him another body’s hitting the ground, and the Doctor’s already sitting up.
Jack. Jack took the bullet meant for the Doctor.
Desperation, longing, fills her; she wants to go to him, to hold him while he resuscitates - the Doctor told her he could die, but not that it hurts - but her training’s already snapping in again. Primary objective. A fraction of a turn and she’s facing the assassin. He’s aiming again, this time at the little guy.
One shot’s all it takes. The assassin’s sprawled on the ground.
A quick check to assure herself that he’s not moving, and she turns back to her men. The Doctor’s looking from her to Jack, who’s just beginning to sit up, and he’s frustrated and distinctly unhappy. “Rose! You just murdered -”
She cuts across him, matter-of-fact. He’s not going to put her in the wrong over this one. Yes, she’s still as anti-gun as she always was, when she can afford to be. But time and experience have taught her that sometimes circumstances warrant stronger action. “Stun setting. What, you wanted someone else killed?”
The Doctor ignores her, stepping past her to stand over the figure on the ground. One zap of the screwdriver, and the gun makes a loud cracking sound, then melts. The screwdriver bleeps. “Naviscite,” the Doctor says, staring down at the assassin. “Not normally violent. Still. No accounting for what people will do.”
He spins abruptly, finger pointing at Jack, now back on his feet. “And you! I will not have you dying for me!”
Oh, he’s not happy when it’s someone else making the sacrifice, is he? She’s torn between watching their interaction and taking care of the guy whose life she just saved, who’s standing behind her and audibly sniffling.
“Gonna remind you, Doctor - it’s called love.” Jack pats the Doctor’s shoulder as he walks past, over to her. “At least I’m not afraid to say it,” he adds with a wink.
And she has to grin; for once, the Doctor’s lost for words.
***
There’s absolutely nothing he can say to that. Well, there is, but somehow he doubts Jack’s going to pay any attention to Don’t. Just as well there’s still a situation here that needs dealing with.
“Right! Rose, Jack, look after him.” He points abruptly at the little bloke, whom he’s barely paid any attention at all to. Doesn’t even have any idea who or what he is, other than that he seems to be a bit of a snivelling wretch. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve put this Naviscite here back on his ship and sent him away.”
“Sure you want to leave him alive?” Jack enquires, arms akimbo and concern in his voice. “Sure, he’s not the best shot in the universe, but still...”
“Leave him to me.” That’s an order, and he knows the two of them will respond when he uses that tone.
The Naviscite is coming around; he stands over him and orders him to his feet, using the screwdriver to check for the presence of other weapons. None. Jack, even in spite of his warning, hovers nearby, weapon drawn. “Not a word,” Jack snarls as the Naviscite opens his mouth. “You’ll do as he says. Exactly as he says. One word, and you won’t get a second. Understand?”
“Jack,” he says, a warning in his tone. But the Naviscite nods, eyes wide with alarm.
“Come on,” he orders, waving the Naviscite on, keeping his gaze firmly on his prisoner. At least his two trigger-happy companions - Rose with a gun, too, and obviously knowing how to use it! - won’t have any reason to use their weapons now. That little bloke they just saved looks like a light wind would blow him away.
They’ve rounded a corner - the sonic screwdriver’s traced the Naviscite’s spaceship - when his prisoner says, frustration and anger in his voice, “You’re making a big mistake.”
“I really think you’re the one who made the mistake,” he points out, incredulous. “You think it’s okay to come after someone with a gun and just... just... shoot at them and try to kill them? Even if he’d done something wrong, that’s what police and courts are for.”
“Bloody moron!” the Naviscite snaps, stopping abruptly and whirling around to face him. “I am a police officer. And I have a warrant for that guy, dead or alive. You think he’s just some harmless little guy with a factory job, wife and two kids? Think again, you stupid, interfering git. That bloke you saved back there? The guy I’m after stole that body - and probably a dozen or more others before it. He’s an Aubertide, you fool!”
It’s as if ice-cold water’s just been poured through his veins. An Aubertide. The Family.
An Aubertide - one of the most lethal, conscienceless species in the universe, apart from Daleks and Cybermen. And he’s left Jack and Rose with it.
It’ll be armed - all right, so are they - but that’s not the worst. It might be looking for a new body to consume.
Hearts in his mouth, he swings around and starts running.
***
tbc
Author: wmr
wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler, others
Rated: Probably PG13
Spoilers: Up to VotD, AU from most of what we've heard about S4.
Disclaimer: Never gonna be mine, are they?
Summary: It's not the reality that's the worst, really; it's his perception of it. Of himself.
A pinch-hit fic for
sensiblecat in the OT3 ficathon - prompts will be posted at the end of the fic. Hope you like this! With grateful thanks to
dark_aegis for BRing.
Chapter 1: The Magician
Chapter 2: Bringer of War
“What d’you think? Is this a mistake?”
She’s propped up on her elbow in their bed, her hair hanging in dishevelled strands around her face. Jack frowns. “What? You and me?”
“No, silly!” She swipes at him, but then sobers. “Bein’ here. On the TARDIS. Doesn’t much look like he wants us here.”
It really doesn’t. They’ve been back three days, and instead of getting better it’s getting worse. The Doctor’s more distant than she’s ever seen him. When he’s piloting the TARDIS, he refuses all assistance, and speaks only to offer essential information. When they’re outside, more often than not he leaves the two of them to explore on their own. And when they’re floating in the Vortex he just disappears.
The places they go, too, send a clear message that all isn’t well. A planet with gorgeous trees ablaze with colour; as she’s admiring them, the Doctor comments that, in just two years’ time, the planet’s going to be caught in the crossfire in a war between two other races. Nuclear meltdown will take place.
Another visit’s to Pompeii, where the Doctor deserts them immediately; she sees Jack’s face pale and he tells her, in a voice that’s cracking with emotion, that the Volcano Day he joked about so casually when they first met is the following day. Most of these people, he tells her, won’t survive. He was there, he says, when the volcano erupted - got the timing a bit wrong and only just got out alive. But not before he saw too many people swallowed up by hot ash and debris, collapsed buildings or sheer human panic.
It’s clearly a memory that’s scarred him, and she never knew. He never said. In the end, she walks him back to the TARDIS and just holds him until the Doctor returns.
On yet another trip, they end up outside a gloomy grey-bricked castle. There are lights in all the windows; it’s New Year’s Eve, the Doctor tells them. Unusually communicative, he beckons her to one of the windows. Inside, music is playing and couples are dancing, enjoying themselves, celebrating.
One couple catches her gaze. The woman’s beautifully dressed, with hair piled high on top of her head, and as she dances she’s gazing with obvious love at the man who’s holding her in his arms. They move in time with the dance, and the woman’s face becomes visible. With a shock, she realises.
“It’s Lady Isabella. And Sir Robert. Doctor...”
“New Year’s Eve 1878.” His voice is clipped. Abruptly, he turns and walks off, his coat swinging behind him.
He’s trying to hurt them, both of them. Or, more likely, push them away. And, while once she’d have pushed back as hard as she could, now she’s thinking of more than just herself and what she wants. Not whether being back on the TARDIS is the wrong thing for her, but for the Doctor.
And right now she’s feeling that she really doesn’t know him at all, and certainly not enough to make that decision.
And, of course, she can’t help remembering everything she’s given up to be back here. She’ll never see her mum again - or her dad. Her little sister will grow up without her. She’ll never see Mickey and Jake again. Okay, her ending up here was something of an accident, but she always knew she’d take the opportunity if it came up.
Yet she’s very aware that she can’t blame the Doctor for what she’s given up. He didn’t ask her to come back. He didn’t go and get her back. He didn’t even encourage her, on that beach in Norway, to hope that they could see each other again. He was telling her to let go, to move on.
Now she’s here, and he really had no choice in the matter at all, did he?
“Jack?” she prompts again, and right now she has no idea whether she’s hoping for reassurance or confirmation of her fears.
***
He studies Rose, mulling over what she’s just said. No, this isn’t good for any of them, least of all the Doctor. But he’s been playing a waiting game; after all, someone’s got to crack sooner or later. He just didn’t expect it to be Rose.
He knows this Doctor, probably better than she does. Yes, he’s a stubborn git, but so is Rose. Plus, despite the fact that the Doctor’s damn good at pushing people away - and running away from them - he needs people. Ever since the two of them made their peace over Satellite Five - and he made himself get past the Doctor’s irrational forgiveness of the Master - the Doctor’s tried time and again to get him to travel in the TARDIS with him again. But, of course, he’ll never come right out and say that he wants Jack, or that he needs company. It’s always if you like, or you can if you want, or might as well, eh? Of course, to this Doctor that’s probably the equivalent of an engraved invitation.
So, he fully expected the Doctor - who’s always behaved as if he needed Rose, as if having lost Rose hit him incredibly hard - to drop the distant act and the thinly-veiled moral lessons and start enjoying having her with him again. He didn’t expect this.
“Declaring defeat? That doesn’t sound like the Rose Tyler I know.”
“That was the old me,” she says, not responding to the humour in his voice. “Selfish, only thinkin’ of what I wanted. Told him once, I did, that I’d stay with ‘im for ever. Never asked what he wanted. An’ what did I do when I came back to this universe? Called ‘im. Never once thought that maybe he’d moved on, that he didn’t need me any more.”
“He still came,” Jack points out.
“Yeah, but what choice did he have? I’m dead in this universe, aren’t I? Had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t abandon me.”
He pulls her into his arms. “You’ve always got somewhere else to go. As for being dead in this universe, you’re not sleeping with the ex-head of Torchwood for nothing.” He flashes her a grin. “Still, we’re not running away. It’s time to bring this to a head one way or another. He does need us, even if he finds it easier to pretend otherwise.”
He explains as he slides out of bed, pulling Rose after him. In deference to the Doctor, he puts his jeans on and passes Rose a robe. Silently, her hand in his, he leads the way to the console room.
As he suspected, the Doctor’s there, leaning against the battered old captain’s chair, staring at something on the viewscreen. He looks up as the two of them come in, at first surprised, but then very quickly that same withdrawn look he’s been wearing for days returns.
“We’ve got something to ask you, Doctor. And, whatever your answer is, that’s it. Final decision. Okay?”
The Doctor shrugs. “Ask me, then.”
Jack tightens his grip on Rose’s hand. “Do you want us to leave?”
***
It’s a hell of a gamble. But Jack’s right; it’s the only way. They can’t carry on as they are, and this way forces the Doctor to make a decision while showing him the consequences of his behaviour.
For a moment, barely a second, he looks startled. Then he glances from Jack to her and back to Jack. “You want to leave?” His tone appears completely unconcerned.
But she’s not fooled. There’s a tiny tic in his jaw that she only ever saw when he was desperately upset.
She wants to reassure him, but that’s not going to solve this. He’s so changed - so very changed from the Doctor she knew. This is what Jack meant. And whether it’s the Master, the impact of the Year that Never Was, or just the cumulative effect of losing so many people, it’s hard to watch the man she loves withdraw deeper and deeper into himself and away from everyone else. Well, specifically away from them.
He’s got to step up and say it. They can’t give him an easy way out.
“Jack asked you a question, Doctor. You don’t get to ask us one before you answer it.”
He tugs on his ear. “Considering the number of times I’ve asked you to come with me, Jack, do you really think that’s likely?”
Surprised pleasure briefly flits across Jack’s face. “So, what ‘bout me, then?” she asks. “Okay, I can’t go back to the other universe, but -”
The Doctor meets her gaze, his own faintly hurt. “Seem to remember you once making a promise about how long you were gonna stay with me.”
“I know.” Dropping Jack’s hand, she goes to him, extending her hand to him instead. He takes it. “Was a long time ago, that. Things change. People... change.”
“You’ve changed?” he asks.
“We both have. An’ I didn’t exactly give you a lot of choice, jus’ turning up out of the blue like that, did I?”
“I asked you three times to come with me, Rose Tyler. That’s more than I’ve asked most people. Think Jack’s the only person I’ve asked more often.”
She nods, even though he hasn’t exactly answered her question. “Jus’ needed to be sure it’s still what you want. Hasn’t really seemed like it since you came back to pick us up.” The reference to the two of them, her and Jack, is deliberate.
The Doctor raises an eyebrow, still looking down at her. “Was I being that much of a git?”
“You know exactly what you were doing,” she tells him and, after a moment, he nods.
“I don’t react well to things I don’t want to hear.” He’s looking straight at Jack now.
Jack shrugs, coming closer. “Needed to be said.”
Something flashes in the Doctor’s eyes, almost a warning. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“You think we’re not gettin’ the message, Doctor, don’t you?” She steps back from him, but refuses to let him look away. “Everything dies. Everything ends. Right?”
Looking as serious, as forceful as she’s ever seen him, he nods.
“See, I know that. Got good reason to, after all. But I remember something else. I remember what you said to me on our first date, Doctor. All that matters is here an’ now. Remember that?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “That was different, Rose.”
Shaking her head, she insists, “ ‘S no different. Look, I’ll never ask for more from you than you’re willing to give. Maybe I did before, but I’ve learned better now. But can’t we just enjoy here an’ now an’ stop worryin’ about when it’s all gonna end?”
He sighs, and this time seems to concede, just a little. “Oh, we could. We can. Well, maybe a bit. But, Rose, you can’t just ignore the inevitable. Tried that once. Didn’t work.”
Her heart wrenches for him as she’s taken back to those last weeks together, that time when they desperately tried to pretend they’d never heard the Beast’s warning or the Doctor’s own premonition of a storm coming. They made themselves believe they were living charmed lives, and instead of preparing for what might be coming and spending each day together as if it could be their last they just played oblivious. Oh, how she regretted that afterwards, when she found herself separated from him by an entire universe.
“Yeah, I know.” She grips his hand again. “But there’s a difference between ignorin’ an’ accepting. Yeah, I know some day it’s gonna end. ‘S only human to want to make the most of what we have for now, isn’t it?”
“You’re forgetting.” Jack bumps her shoulder lightly, and his voice is teasing. He’s trying to add some humour to this situation, and she can appreciate that. “He’s not human.”
The Doctor smiles suddenly, and it’s like the sun emerging from behind a dark cloud. “Was once. Human, I mean. Well, it was only for a couple of months, but still. Can’t say I don’t know what it’s like any more.”
She stares. “You were human?”
He shrugs, dropping her hand, and turns back to the console. “Had to hide from some people who would’ve recognised a Time Lord. Like I said, was only for a while. Nothing important.”
It was, but she’s got the message. He’s not going to talk about it. Just like so many other things that have happened to him, either before he met her or in the years she was away. Oh, he might mention them; he might even make a joke of them. But he won’t give details, and he’ll certainly never let them see how badly he was affected.
Not for the first time, she wonders whether it mightn’t be a good idea to meet up with Martha Jones some time. If nothing else, she and Jack might actually get the truth about some of these events the Doctor’s doing his best to keep from them. And why he’s keeping himself so detached, both emotionally and physically - so unlike the way he used to be with her.
“Anyway!” the Doctor continues, and it’s painful to hear the fake brightness in his tone. “We’re all here, you’re awake, I’m awake - no point standing around here nattering all day! You two, get dressed. Quick as you can - I know just the place.”
***
They don’t get it, not really, but it doesn’t matter. They’re staying. That’s all that does. Trying to make them understand’s one thing, but driving them away... no, absolutely not, he never wanted that.
Maybe he should have told Rose how glad he was to have her back. Maybe he should have told her how much he missed her, how hard the past years have been without her. Even if they’d have been hard with her too, she’d still have been here and that would have been something.
Except that he’d probably have lost her - if not on the Valiant, then on the Titanic; what Astrid did, that’s exactly what Rose would have done. Or somewhere else since then.
But he shouldn’t have needed to tell her he’s happy she’s here. He hugged her, didn’t he? So what if he didn’t kiss her back? That’s not the way they were, and it’s better that way. She should have known that.
But how Rose has changed. The old Rose, pre-Canary Wharf Rose, would never have threatened to leave him like this. Wouldn’t have challenged him this much on something he clearly didn’t want to talk about, either. She used to push him, when he first knew her. When did she stop?
His hands aren’t shaking as he sets the co-ordinates. It’s only a trick of the light.
By the time the two of them return, fully dressed and ready to go, they’re almost at their destination and he’s ready to go, bouncing at the console as if time’s gone back three or four years. “Hurry up!” he calls.
“Where are we?” The light of excitement’s back in Rose’s eyes, and it’s only now he’s realising how much he’s missed it. She wasn’t even like this before Sto, but then he was already teaching them a lesson by then, wasn’t he?
Worth it, though. They’ll have got the message, even if they don’t understand it. Time to resume normal relations.
“You’ll see,” he tells her, now running for the door and catching her hand on the way past. He practically drags her outside with him, leaving Jack to follow behind.
They’re in the middle of a city, but unlike any city he’s taken Rose to before. The buildings shimmer, as they’re made of a material not unlike glass - it’s all energy-efficient, and the construction’s designed in such a way that everything reflects everything else and the reflection’s always changing.
“It’s brilliant,” Rose says, and it’s just like old times.
“Yeah.” He can’t help grinning down at her. “And there’s something even better just over here.” Breaking into a run again, he tows her across the road, along the street a little and then halts outside a door. “You know how I kept trying to take you to concerts but we never quite managed it?”
That makes her laugh. “Yeah.”
“Well, you told me once you’d love to see a proper West End musical. Can’t take you there, not now. Should really take you to Broadway, some day, but for now... well, there’s this.”
It’s a theatre, one of the best on this planet, and it’s currently advertising a season of musicals. One’s just about to start - they just have enough time to get tickets.
“Musical theatre?” Jack, who’s come up to join them, grins wickedly. “Isn’t that all a bit camp?”
“Only if it’s Abba,” the Doctor retorts. “Not that I’d have thought you of all people would object to camp, Jack.”
Jack’s grin widens. “Definitely a bit cheeky this time around, Doctor.” He slings his arm around the Doctor’s shoulders. “We going in, then? This I gotta see.”
“What, you lived through the entire twentieth century and you never saw a musical?” He has to stare at Jack, incredulous. Ah, he’s forgotten how much fun it was with the three of them. And it can be again. “Well, come on then!”
Rose tugs on his hand, and reaches out for Jack with her other one. “Yeah! Oh, an’ just for that Abba crack, you’re takin’ me to Mamma Mia. On Broadway. Opening night.”
***
“...I was in a musical theatre production once, did I tell you? Well... not exactly in it. Though Martha was. Unintentionally, of course. She did look a bit out of place in her leather jacket and jeans among all the chorus girls in chicken suits, but what can you do?”
The Doctor’s rambling away as they leave the theatre, he and Rose walking hand-in-hand while Jack follows behind. Talking a lot and saying nothing, as usual. If he recalls correctly from what Martha told him over a few drinks some months after they both left the Doctor, that time with the theatre was also the time they ran into yet more Daleks. Not that the Doctor’s going to mention that. Oh no - far too honest, that would be. Far too confessional.
He’s being very obvious in another way, though. All this holding Rose’s hand, talking away non-stop, and the way he was reminiscing earlier about things he and Rose did together - all designed to rebuild the closeness he and Rose had back then, and to exclude Jack. He’s still every bit as transparent as his previous leather-jacketed self was, glaring at him across the console with a look that said in no uncertain terms, Hands off!
It’s good to see him back to his old self, but the idiot should know he doesn’t need to go to this length. He’s already told the Doctor he’s got prior claim. True, as long as it’s what Rose wants - and he really must talk to her -
“What’s that?”
The alarm in Rose’s voice alerts him, and he looks quickly in the direction she’s indicating. The Doctor’s only a fraction ahead of him as he starts running, and Rose is right beside them.
Up ahead, about forty metres away, someone’s being chased. It’s hardly a fair fight, either: not only is the guy doing the chasing nearly twice the size of the victim, he’s also armed. The victim obviously isn’t, because he’s just running and not attempting to defend himself.
Putting on an extra spurt of speed, he draws his gun, and feels the Doctor’s disapproving gaze on him. “What, you think you can talk him out of shooting?” he retorts. “Think this might have more influence.”
A glance to his other side, where Rose is doing a great job of keeping up with him - she’s fitter than the old days, too - shows him that he’s not the only one armed. The Doctor’s not gonna like that, but tough.
“Stop!” the Doctor yells as they get closer. “Leave him alone!”
The guy with the gun - humanoid, but taller and broader than most hominid races he’s encountered, and with a faint covering of grey fuzz on his skin - yells back, “Stay out of this! It’s none of your business.” Another two shots echo, narrowly missing the little guy, who’s definitely human or close to it.
“It’s always my business when I see a bully at work,” the Doctor retorts.
The little guy, unsurprisingly, isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. He’s changed direction, running straight for them. “Get behind me!” Jack shouts, waving at him.
Big guy’s still giving chase, and now he’s heading their way too, and he’s slowing down, aiming his gun...
...and getting ready to fire at the Doctor.
***
It’s all a blur of fast motion, loud shouts and gunfire.
The guy with the gun’s firing at the Doctor. She’s screaming his name, trying to aim her own weapon without hitting anyone else. Jack’s yelling. The little guy’s screaming “Save me!”, and Jack’s running.
A gunshot fires.
The Doctor tumbles to the ground.
She runs to him - No! Can’t lose him again, not now, not when I’ve only just got him back - but in the fraction of a second it takes to reach him another body’s hitting the ground, and the Doctor’s already sitting up.
Jack. Jack took the bullet meant for the Doctor.
Desperation, longing, fills her; she wants to go to him, to hold him while he resuscitates - the Doctor told her he could die, but not that it hurts - but her training’s already snapping in again. Primary objective. A fraction of a turn and she’s facing the assassin. He’s aiming again, this time at the little guy.
One shot’s all it takes. The assassin’s sprawled on the ground.
A quick check to assure herself that he’s not moving, and she turns back to her men. The Doctor’s looking from her to Jack, who’s just beginning to sit up, and he’s frustrated and distinctly unhappy. “Rose! You just murdered -”
She cuts across him, matter-of-fact. He’s not going to put her in the wrong over this one. Yes, she’s still as anti-gun as she always was, when she can afford to be. But time and experience have taught her that sometimes circumstances warrant stronger action. “Stun setting. What, you wanted someone else killed?”
The Doctor ignores her, stepping past her to stand over the figure on the ground. One zap of the screwdriver, and the gun makes a loud cracking sound, then melts. The screwdriver bleeps. “Naviscite,” the Doctor says, staring down at the assassin. “Not normally violent. Still. No accounting for what people will do.”
He spins abruptly, finger pointing at Jack, now back on his feet. “And you! I will not have you dying for me!”
Oh, he’s not happy when it’s someone else making the sacrifice, is he? She’s torn between watching their interaction and taking care of the guy whose life she just saved, who’s standing behind her and audibly sniffling.
“Gonna remind you, Doctor - it’s called love.” Jack pats the Doctor’s shoulder as he walks past, over to her. “At least I’m not afraid to say it,” he adds with a wink.
And she has to grin; for once, the Doctor’s lost for words.
***
There’s absolutely nothing he can say to that. Well, there is, but somehow he doubts Jack’s going to pay any attention to Don’t. Just as well there’s still a situation here that needs dealing with.
“Right! Rose, Jack, look after him.” He points abruptly at the little bloke, whom he’s barely paid any attention at all to. Doesn’t even have any idea who or what he is, other than that he seems to be a bit of a snivelling wretch. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve put this Naviscite here back on his ship and sent him away.”
“Sure you want to leave him alive?” Jack enquires, arms akimbo and concern in his voice. “Sure, he’s not the best shot in the universe, but still...”
“Leave him to me.” That’s an order, and he knows the two of them will respond when he uses that tone.
The Naviscite is coming around; he stands over him and orders him to his feet, using the screwdriver to check for the presence of other weapons. None. Jack, even in spite of his warning, hovers nearby, weapon drawn. “Not a word,” Jack snarls as the Naviscite opens his mouth. “You’ll do as he says. Exactly as he says. One word, and you won’t get a second. Understand?”
“Jack,” he says, a warning in his tone. But the Naviscite nods, eyes wide with alarm.
“Come on,” he orders, waving the Naviscite on, keeping his gaze firmly on his prisoner. At least his two trigger-happy companions - Rose with a gun, too, and obviously knowing how to use it! - won’t have any reason to use their weapons now. That little bloke they just saved looks like a light wind would blow him away.
They’ve rounded a corner - the sonic screwdriver’s traced the Naviscite’s spaceship - when his prisoner says, frustration and anger in his voice, “You’re making a big mistake.”
“I really think you’re the one who made the mistake,” he points out, incredulous. “You think it’s okay to come after someone with a gun and just... just... shoot at them and try to kill them? Even if he’d done something wrong, that’s what police and courts are for.”
“Bloody moron!” the Naviscite snaps, stopping abruptly and whirling around to face him. “I am a police officer. And I have a warrant for that guy, dead or alive. You think he’s just some harmless little guy with a factory job, wife and two kids? Think again, you stupid, interfering git. That bloke you saved back there? The guy I’m after stole that body - and probably a dozen or more others before it. He’s an Aubertide, you fool!”
It’s as if ice-cold water’s just been poured through his veins. An Aubertide. The Family.
An Aubertide - one of the most lethal, conscienceless species in the universe, apart from Daleks and Cybermen. And he’s left Jack and Rose with it.
It’ll be armed - all right, so are they - but that’s not the worst. It might be looking for a new body to consume.
Hearts in his mouth, he swings around and starts running.
***
tbc