Aperture of Time {1.2.3}
Title: Aperture of Time
Part: 1.2.3
Sandbox: Doctor Who
Setting: November 22, 1963
Pairings: Nine/Amy, Jack/Rose
Summary: Having left her previous position and come aboard the TARDIS, Amy deals with the wonder of her first trip to the wardrobe and back in time, while Rose discovers that The Doctor has had many companions in the past, and even a family, and has to deal with this sudden change in status.
Rose had stilled, staring at the Doctor's back. "What? What do you mean we have to make sure he dies?" Sure, people died, and sure, the assassination of John F. Kennedy was in her textbooks at school, but that didn't mean the man had to die did it? He had a life, a family. It was one thing to read about someone dying in a history book and another to purposely cause his death -- to murder him. "That's not what we do, Doctor! We don't kill people!"
"Could have fooled me." Amy muttered under her breath.
Rose really wanted to hit the other girl, but she refrained. "What are you on about?"
Amy looked at her in amazement. "The couple hundred people who died because you had to go and touch the Metaltron...Dalek...whatever?"
"That was an accident!" Rose defended. "It was in pain, I didn't know it would do that." She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's completely different from...from murder."
The Doctor was becoming increasingly afraid that Rose, for all her innocence and empathy had drawn him to her, might not be able to handle what he had seen and done. If she reacted like this to a historical event, how could she look at him the same way if she knew he had killed all of his people? His throat felt dry and his respiratory bypass was threatening to kick in, but he swallowed and took wither companion by the shoulder and led them into the TARDIS. "Let's talk about this inside, shall we?"
The doors closed behind them firmly, and The Doctor let out a breath. "I was being honest when I said we can't change time. That president has to die, has to be shot from his motorcade."
Rose looked at him, eyes brimming with all that emotion, all that humanness that had drawn him to her in the first place. "What about Charles Dickens? You said time was fluid, that I could die there, despite being born in a different century."
The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. "Most of time is fluid, and changeable -- but there are times, like hinges, that must remain the same. Temporal tipping points -- what has happened, what will happen, must always happen." He looked at rose, begging with his eyes for her to understand. "John Kennedy has to die out there, on November 22, 1963, John Kennedy must always die."
"What happens if he doesn't?" Rose challenged. "What if this time, he lives? Just this one time?" She looked over at the wall, refusing to cry in front of Amy, especially over some man she would never meet who had died before she was born.
The Doctor sighed, trying to make Rose understand. "Two different versions of the same event, both happening in the same moment. Time split wide open." He took Rose's hand. "All of time will die. Billions on billions will suffer and die to save one life."
Rose shook her head, trying her hardest to understand. "How can you decide?" She looked up at him. "How do you look at one person and know they have to die?"
The Doctor had no way he wanted to answer. In the old days, running around with the UNIT boys he wouldn't have minded as much, there were other Time Lords whose entire lives were wrapped up in preventing paradoxes and ensuring the safety of time. Now, because of his actions, because he had made a decision exactly like this one, he was the only one, and the suffocating responsibility came down entirely on his shoulders. He swallowed hard. "Because I'm the only one who can. I'm the only person who survived. The only one left -- I have to do it all."
Rose let out a choked sound and hugged him hard. "All right."
_________________________________
That was how Rose found herself stepping out of the TARDIS on a space station of some alien-like aliens, creatures that were thin and tall, with long arms and blue-grey skin, sunken, arched cheekbones and a sharp pointed chins.
The Doctor found himself faced with a race he knew well, and the salutes and grasping hands reaching out to touch his clothes from the Nibiruns. "I wish to speak with the Chancellor, friends." One of the soldiers, nodded, and reached out an arm. "Your companions will be led to the women's palace, while you meet with the Chancellor."
"What?" Amy said, speaking up for the first time in ages. "Doctor?"
The Doctor turned to his companions and explained. "Women aren't permitted to see the Chancellor, even alien women." He smiled. "So you two will get to be pampered and fawned over in the best spa in this star system, when I deal with setting everything up."
"I'd rather go with you than be pampered." Amy said firmly.
"Hey," The Doctor said firmly. "I won't leave without you, go with Rose and the Nibiruns and relax some. We usually don't have a chance to relax usually -- there's normally more running than spas. It'll be fine."
And that was how Amelia Pond found herself on an alien space station in the Sirius star system in 1963, trying to relax in a sort of seaweed wrap with someone she was sure hated her and wished she was still in 2012, perhaps buried under the concrete that filled van Statten's underground complex. This was perhaps the most awkward thing she had ever endured.
"How come your just okay with this?" Rose asked, breaking the stony silence as one of the priestesses gave her feet some sort of massage to her feet with some sort of spiky flowers that took off dead skin. "This whole...making sure..." She couldn't even say it, even if she was helping, even if she was here because The Doctor knew the Chancellor would want to send someone to take the shot.
Amy shifted carefully, looking away for a moment. The tight self-constricting seaweed was not going to let her get away from this conversation. She sighed. "My parents died when I was seven."
"What?" Rose repeated. "What does that have to do with the American president?"
Amy looked sideways at Rose. "Don't you get it? If my parents hadn't died, I would have been a completely different person."
Rose blinked. "No you wouldn't, you'd have the same DNA and everything."
"Nature versus nurture." Amy explained. "If I hadn't grown up with an absent aunt, the only Scottish girl in a sleepy English village, made fun of for being too smart, too mouthy -- then I would have never taken the job with van Statten and I wouldn't be here right now."
Rose had never thought of things like that. "So what would you be doing if your parents lived?"
Amy shrugged as much as the wrap allowed her to shrug. "I don't know...maybe I'd be an artist, or a hacker, or maybe I'd have actually gone to University of Aberdeeen like my Da and become...I don't know, a neurosurgeon -- but I don't know because I didn't grow up in Scotland, all because of one event -- one tragic event, where their car got hit by a drunk driver while they were coming back to pick me up from my aunt's house." Her voice was shaking and she took a deep breath. "So, if one tragedy could change my life that much, and change the lives of the people I interacted with, I can see how one tragedy that goes down in history, that influences hundreds of lives, like ripples in a pond, could cause time to break down." She hadn't even realised her voice had been getting louder and louder, and took another shaky deep breath. "So yeah, I might not be okay with this, with helping a murder -- but I realise why it has to happen."
Rose watched, suddenly understanding Amy more than before and more than she really wanted to understand. It made her want to like Amy even more. Amy had saved her life, and now Amy had shared pain with her -- pain that Rose understood more than the other girl could have known. She didn't want to like her. She had been actively trying not to like her. After all, Amy had swanned on to the TARDIS and been all smiles with the Doctor, who had invited her aboard without so much as asking if Rose was okay with it. Sure, they weren't a couple and it was his ship, but it still bothered her. Deep down she knew she was jealous. She wanted to be with the Doctor, and she couldn't help but feel as though Amy was competition. Damn it, she really didn't want to like her.
But..."My dad died when I was a baby." She admitted. "Seventh of November, 1987 -- the day that two of my parents friends got married. He was picking up a wedding present, a vase." She blinked her eyes. "Hit and run driver. I don't even have memories of him."
Amy, in sympathy, as the priestesses unwrapped her, reached out and squeezed Rose's hand. "I can't even really remember their faces." She said softly. "I can remember things, but not their faces."
"We're a mess." Rose said, wanting to stop talking about it, stop thinking about it.
"We are." Amy agreed.
_________________________________
They were joined in the TARDIS by one of the Nibirun generals, who explained how JFK had ordered an off-course spacecraft on a training mission for Nibirun teenagers that had crashed in 40 miles from an United States Air Force Base, rather than answering the distress call. His son had been one of those killed, and he had been chosen for the mission. Rose tried to avoid him, hiding in the wardrobe, while Amy brought tea and tried to make small talk. They dropped him off near the grassy knoll, and then went back to seconds after they had left, walking far more seriously to the motorcade route.
Rose kept holding her breath as the black car approached, but at the last minute, she couldn't watch and looked away.
Amy swallowed hard, but unlike Rose, she couldn't look away. She stood transfixed to the sight, in full sound and colour. As Jackie went up over the back of the car for a piece of her husband's skull, she felt lightheaded and grabbed The Doctor's hand for support and squeezed. He probably needed it as much as she did. "Gotcha." She whispered under her breath, not knowing if he could even hear in all the chaos.
The Doctor looked over at her, and squeezed back. "Gotcha."
Part: 1.2.3
Sandbox: Doctor Who
Setting: November 22, 1963
Pairings: Nine/Amy, Jack/Rose
Summary: Having left her previous position and come aboard the TARDIS, Amy deals with the wonder of her first trip to the wardrobe and back in time, while Rose discovers that The Doctor has had many companions in the past, and even a family, and has to deal with this sudden change in status.
Rose had stilled, staring at the Doctor's back. "What? What do you mean we have to make sure he dies?" Sure, people died, and sure, the assassination of John F. Kennedy was in her textbooks at school, but that didn't mean the man had to die did it? He had a life, a family. It was one thing to read about someone dying in a history book and another to purposely cause his death -- to murder him. "That's not what we do, Doctor! We don't kill people!"
"Could have fooled me." Amy muttered under her breath.
Rose really wanted to hit the other girl, but she refrained. "What are you on about?"
Amy looked at her in amazement. "The couple hundred people who died because you had to go and touch the Metaltron...Dalek...whatever?"
"That was an accident!" Rose defended. "It was in pain, I didn't know it would do that." She crossed her arms over her chest. "That's completely different from...from murder."
The Doctor was becoming increasingly afraid that Rose, for all her innocence and empathy had drawn him to her, might not be able to handle what he had seen and done. If she reacted like this to a historical event, how could she look at him the same way if she knew he had killed all of his people? His throat felt dry and his respiratory bypass was threatening to kick in, but he swallowed and took wither companion by the shoulder and led them into the TARDIS. "Let's talk about this inside, shall we?"
The doors closed behind them firmly, and The Doctor let out a breath. "I was being honest when I said we can't change time. That president has to die, has to be shot from his motorcade."
Rose looked at him, eyes brimming with all that emotion, all that humanness that had drawn him to her in the first place. "What about Charles Dickens? You said time was fluid, that I could die there, despite being born in a different century."
The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. "Most of time is fluid, and changeable -- but there are times, like hinges, that must remain the same. Temporal tipping points -- what has happened, what will happen, must always happen." He looked at rose, begging with his eyes for her to understand. "John Kennedy has to die out there, on November 22, 1963, John Kennedy must always die."
"What happens if he doesn't?" Rose challenged. "What if this time, he lives? Just this one time?" She looked over at the wall, refusing to cry in front of Amy, especially over some man she would never meet who had died before she was born.
The Doctor sighed, trying to make Rose understand. "Two different versions of the same event, both happening in the same moment. Time split wide open." He took Rose's hand. "All of time will die. Billions on billions will suffer and die to save one life."
Rose shook her head, trying her hardest to understand. "How can you decide?" She looked up at him. "How do you look at one person and know they have to die?"
The Doctor had no way he wanted to answer. In the old days, running around with the UNIT boys he wouldn't have minded as much, there were other Time Lords whose entire lives were wrapped up in preventing paradoxes and ensuring the safety of time. Now, because of his actions, because he had made a decision exactly like this one, he was the only one, and the suffocating responsibility came down entirely on his shoulders. He swallowed hard. "Because I'm the only one who can. I'm the only person who survived. The only one left -- I have to do it all."
Rose let out a choked sound and hugged him hard. "All right."
_________________________________
That was how Rose found herself stepping out of the TARDIS on a space station of some alien-like aliens, creatures that were thin and tall, with long arms and blue-grey skin, sunken, arched cheekbones and a sharp pointed chins.
The Doctor found himself faced with a race he knew well, and the salutes and grasping hands reaching out to touch his clothes from the Nibiruns. "I wish to speak with the Chancellor, friends." One of the soldiers, nodded, and reached out an arm. "Your companions will be led to the women's palace, while you meet with the Chancellor."
"What?" Amy said, speaking up for the first time in ages. "Doctor?"
The Doctor turned to his companions and explained. "Women aren't permitted to see the Chancellor, even alien women." He smiled. "So you two will get to be pampered and fawned over in the best spa in this star system, when I deal with setting everything up."
"I'd rather go with you than be pampered." Amy said firmly.
"Hey," The Doctor said firmly. "I won't leave without you, go with Rose and the Nibiruns and relax some. We usually don't have a chance to relax usually -- there's normally more running than spas. It'll be fine."
And that was how Amelia Pond found herself on an alien space station in the Sirius star system in 1963, trying to relax in a sort of seaweed wrap with someone she was sure hated her and wished she was still in 2012, perhaps buried under the concrete that filled van Statten's underground complex. This was perhaps the most awkward thing she had ever endured.
"How come your just okay with this?" Rose asked, breaking the stony silence as one of the priestesses gave her feet some sort of massage to her feet with some sort of spiky flowers that took off dead skin. "This whole...making sure..." She couldn't even say it, even if she was helping, even if she was here because The Doctor knew the Chancellor would want to send someone to take the shot.
Amy shifted carefully, looking away for a moment. The tight self-constricting seaweed was not going to let her get away from this conversation. She sighed. "My parents died when I was seven."
"What?" Rose repeated. "What does that have to do with the American president?"
Amy looked sideways at Rose. "Don't you get it? If my parents hadn't died, I would have been a completely different person."
Rose blinked. "No you wouldn't, you'd have the same DNA and everything."
"Nature versus nurture." Amy explained. "If I hadn't grown up with an absent aunt, the only Scottish girl in a sleepy English village, made fun of for being too smart, too mouthy -- then I would have never taken the job with van Statten and I wouldn't be here right now."
Rose had never thought of things like that. "So what would you be doing if your parents lived?"
Amy shrugged as much as the wrap allowed her to shrug. "I don't know...maybe I'd be an artist, or a hacker, or maybe I'd have actually gone to University of Aberdeeen like my Da and become...I don't know, a neurosurgeon -- but I don't know because I didn't grow up in Scotland, all because of one event -- one tragic event, where their car got hit by a drunk driver while they were coming back to pick me up from my aunt's house." Her voice was shaking and she took a deep breath. "So, if one tragedy could change my life that much, and change the lives of the people I interacted with, I can see how one tragedy that goes down in history, that influences hundreds of lives, like ripples in a pond, could cause time to break down." She hadn't even realised her voice had been getting louder and louder, and took another shaky deep breath. "So yeah, I might not be okay with this, with helping a murder -- but I realise why it has to happen."
Rose watched, suddenly understanding Amy more than before and more than she really wanted to understand. It made her want to like Amy even more. Amy had saved her life, and now Amy had shared pain with her -- pain that Rose understood more than the other girl could have known. She didn't want to like her. She had been actively trying not to like her. After all, Amy had swanned on to the TARDIS and been all smiles with the Doctor, who had invited her aboard without so much as asking if Rose was okay with it. Sure, they weren't a couple and it was his ship, but it still bothered her. Deep down she knew she was jealous. She wanted to be with the Doctor, and she couldn't help but feel as though Amy was competition. Damn it, she really didn't want to like her.
But..."My dad died when I was a baby." She admitted. "Seventh of November, 1987 -- the day that two of my parents friends got married. He was picking up a wedding present, a vase." She blinked her eyes. "Hit and run driver. I don't even have memories of him."
Amy, in sympathy, as the priestesses unwrapped her, reached out and squeezed Rose's hand. "I can't even really remember their faces." She said softly. "I can remember things, but not their faces."
"We're a mess." Rose said, wanting to stop talking about it, stop thinking about it.
"We are." Amy agreed.
_________________________________
They were joined in the TARDIS by one of the Nibirun generals, who explained how JFK had ordered an off-course spacecraft on a training mission for Nibirun teenagers that had crashed in 40 miles from an United States Air Force Base, rather than answering the distress call. His son had been one of those killed, and he had been chosen for the mission. Rose tried to avoid him, hiding in the wardrobe, while Amy brought tea and tried to make small talk. They dropped him off near the grassy knoll, and then went back to seconds after they had left, walking far more seriously to the motorcade route.
Rose kept holding her breath as the black car approached, but at the last minute, she couldn't watch and looked away.
Amy swallowed hard, but unlike Rose, she couldn't look away. She stood transfixed to the sight, in full sound and colour. As Jackie went up over the back of the car for a piece of her husband's skull, she felt lightheaded and grabbed The Doctor's hand for support and squeezed. He probably needed it as much as she did. "Gotcha." She whispered under her breath, not knowing if he could even hear in all the chaos.
The Doctor looked over at her, and squeezed back. "Gotcha."