Fic: A Way Back (3/4)
Title: A Way Back
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Ninth Doctor/Rose
AU from end of Parting of the Way through The Christmas Invasion.
The Doctor doesn't regenerate after taking the time vortex from Rose. It doesn't mean he okay though, far from it.
Hurt/comfort and eventual Ninth Doctor/Rose
The Doctor wasn't precisely sure of how much time had passed between collapsing at Jackie's feet and waking up aching and miserable from another fever induced nightmare in Rose's old bedroom. He was dimly aware that this lack of awareness should tell him something significant about why he was so sick, but forcing his thoughts into any form of coherent order escaped him.
As one day turned into a second, the Doctor came to the conclusion that he had to look every bit as dreadful as he felt: what other possible explanation was there for Jackie being nice to him? Even Mickey had been round to give an awkward apology about wrenching open the TARDIS, and then even more awkwardly offering to help with any repairs. Like knowing how to fix the exhaust on Ford Fiesta in a back street garage was in some way adequate preparation to know how to recalibrate a rematerialization circuit.
He didn't know if Rose had told either of them about what had happened on the Game Station. Not that he was sure how much Rose remembered of having the time vortex in her head or what he'd done to remove it. As little as possible he hoped, the human mind wasn't mean to hold so much. As for the kiss, it really had been the fastest, most practical way to transfer the energy that was killing her to himself. It didn't have to mean anything more.
There didn't seem anything to be gained in mentioning any of it. The Doctor didn't see what he'd done as anything heroic or special. There wasn't anything else he could have done. He could hardly have let her die, not when she'd just saved the whole universe. Not when she'd saved him from both the Daleks and from himself.
....
As the second day progressed into the third the Doctor drifted in and out of sleep and conscious with no discernible pattern in what caused his fever rise or fall. That he wasn't getting an worse was of little comfort when he wasn't getting any better either.
The sound of a door being opened roused him from another strange and disjointed dream. He blinked, the light spilling in from Jackie's living room making his eyes water. "Rose?"
"No, it's Jackie. Rose is talking to Mickey. He's been worried sick about her, not that he'll admit it, but that's men for you," she said, sitting down on the chair that had been placed by the bed. "Look I don’t know exactly what happened up there, but I know it was bad. Rose said you were willing to die to save her, not once but twice, and I believe her."
The Doctor didn't reply. The dream he'd been caught in until a few moments before had been disorientating. Disjointed fragments of memories, splitting and whirling like pieces of a broken kaleidoscope, the overwhelming sense of falling and being buffeted about by unseen currents. Rolling onto his side the Doctor tried to ignore the nauseated feeling in his all too empty stomach and waited for the room to stop spinning.
"The thing is Rose isn't gonna to be happy until she knows you’re going to be alright, so what do I need to do? Jackie asked, showing no sign of leaving him alone. "I mean is there some alien medicine you need? Or something we've got here in London?"
"Don’t know,” the Doctor replied, voice weak and scratchy. "Never happened before, should have been impossible."
"I know Rose says I can’t take you to hospital, being as you aren't human," Jackie went on completely undeterred, "but you can’t go on like this, can you? Barely drinking, and you've not eaten at thing. Is there like a space NHS out there we can call? I mean you call yourself the Doctor, doesn’t your planet have any real doctors? Maybe one of them could come here?"
"No.” It's much harsher than he intended, but he can't talk about it. Not in the state he's in.
"No need to snap, I'm trying to help, aren't I? but really aren't there no space doctors out there at all?" Jackie sounded sceptical.
"Not for my kind, they're gone. I-" He only just managed to stop himself, because he isn’t going to do this with Jackie Tyler of all people, he’s not baring his soul to her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody could ever understand. And they could never forgive him. He didn't deserve it.
"Hey, mum you want a cuppa? Mickey’s just gone to get some milk, ours is off." Rose looked round the door. "Doctor, do you want anything?"
The Doctor doubted 'to be left alone because it's all he deserves' would be an acceptable answer. So he shook his head and closed his eyes. "Sleep."
"Mum, can we have a minute? Before the Doctor goes to sleep again," Rose asked, although it was clear she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Please?”
“Alright,” Jackie said reluctantly, “but think about it, there must be somebody who can help."
"Thought you might be in need of a rescue," Rose said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Mum can be… " She sighed, sounding exhausted. "She means well, she does, but sometimes… sometimes. She really does your head in.”
The Doctor silently took her hand in his, holding it tightly until finally the sick feeling abated and he drifted back to uneasy sleep.
.....
The Doctor wasn't sure what had woken him from the half asleep state he'd been drifting in. He wasn't even certain at first whether he was actually awake at all. Hot and uncomfortable, he lay there in the darkness and listened. After a minute he heard it again.
Crying. Soft and muffled. Like it was intentionally being hidden. He doubted it was Jackie, so that only left Rose. And it didn't matter how awful he felt there was absolutely no possible chance he was going to lay in bed and listen helplessly to her cry.
He was unsteady on his feet, but the Doctor told himself that if he moved slowly, and held onto walls and doors he could reach her without ending up in an undignified heap on the floor.
It was only a room away, but he was shaking with the effort of remaining on his feet by the time he was close enough to see her. Curled up in the sofa, her face pressed against the sleeve of her dressing gown, Rose tried to hide her tears.
"Oh Rose."
She looked round sharply, eyes wet with tears and wide in surprise. "Shh you'll wake Mum," she said in an urgent whisper, before adding, "You shouldn't be out of bed."
"You needed me," the Doctor replied, starting to sag against the door.
Getting up she, put an arm around him and helped him cover the last few steps to the sofa. "I'd have been okay. Don't want you getting worse 'cause of me."
Sinking down onto the sofa beside her with a barely repressed groan, the Doctor said softly, "I won't."
Rose bit her lip, not looking at him, her hands twisting in her lap.
"Rose, what is it?"
"Jacks gone, and I've barely thought about him since.... Since..." Rose's eyes were puffy and red as she looked at him. "It's Christmas, and I hadn't even got him a present, or you. I'd forgotten and now he's gone. He's really gone. And I know we can't bring him back, because that how time is, but it's not fair. It just not fair."
The Doctor couldn't think of any comforting words, and she was right there was no way for him to make anything better. So he put an arm around her and held tight her as started to sob.
Only as he felt her start to calm, her shoulders no longer shaking, did he speak. "Jackie would understand," he said, not wanting her to have to hide, he knew all to well how grief would eat you alive if you let it. "I don't always see eye to eye with her, but give her a chance."
"I can't, not about this. I'm only out here 'cause I didn't wanna wake her," she replied, weariness bourn of grief creeping into her voice. "I've not told her about Jack and you're not gonna do it either. If Mum knew how dangerous it can be she wouldn't want me going back, she make a fuss. But I have to, I have to stay with you, I can't lose you too."
The Doctor can't speak. He shouldn't let her stay. He'll get her killed if she stays with him. Yet he can't do it.. He can't send her away again any more than he could have sealed the doors to Van Statten's vault for a second time.
In that nightmare bunker she'd seen him raging nearly out of his mind in anger and grief and fear. And there hadn't been disappointment in her eyes that he wasn't some indestructible hero, whose actions were always beyond reproach. She'd seen he was broken. That he was all jagged edges that didn't fit comfortably into the universe or his own life anymore. She'd seen him, worse seen through him and it didn't scare her. It didn't seem to matter to her what he'd done, what given the provocation he could do again (and doesn't that thought scare him), not even what might happen to her if she stayed could make her turn away. No, she'd looked at him, seen the pain and desperation in his eyes, and answered with nothing but care and understanding.
And that was why he couldn't lose her. Because if Rose Tyler cared about him then maybe, just maybe there was something left in him that was still worth saving. The Doctor was half certain he was lying to himself, but tonight he was weak and lost and lonely, so for now he let himself believe.
He couldn't find the words to say any of it aloud, and maybe he never would, such things had never come easily to him even before his current regeneration. So he held her close until they both finally fell asleep.
....
The Doctor woke to the sound of someone hammering on the front door and Rose, already awake and dressed, rushing past him to open it. He'd barely had time to sit up on the sofa before Mickey hurried past and switched the TV on.
"Look, Rose I know he's not well, but there's aliens and they've got people up on the roof," Mickey said, pressing multiple buttons on the TV remote in his haste to change the channel. "Rajesh, from the garage, his mum is up there and old Mr Peebles. I think they're gonna make them jump."
"But he's got a walking frame," Jackie exclaimed, as if that was somehow more surprising than aliens making people leap from high buildings.
Mickey managed to find the correct channel in time, and they all watched in silence as Harriet Jones' gave her speech. After the her final plea for the Doctor, if he could hear her, to come to Earths aid, Mickey muted the TV.
Rose looked at the Doctor, who was once again shivering despite the heat radiating from him. "What are we gonna go?"
"Do? What I always do, I'm going to stop them," the Doctor said with far more confidence than he felt. "Come on." He stood up, then almost immediately sat back down again as his legs shook and threatened to give way beneath him.
"How?" Jackie looked at him and then at Rose. "You can't even stand up. Rose tell him. He's not well. There must be someone else."
It was a perfectly good and sensible question, and one to which the Doctor had absolutely no answer, so he promptly ignored it. "Just get me to the TARDIS."
Rose put a hand on his arm, clearly worried but still willing to back him up. "You sure?"
He wasn't, but he nodded anyway.
Mickey looked at them like they were both mad, then sighed, resigned to going along with whatever happened next, as he knew he'd do whatever Rose asked. "Alright, so where we going?"
Moments later, supported between Rose and Mickey, the Doctor unsteadily made his way out of the flats and down to where the TARDIS was waiting. He had no idea what he was going to do, which was something that happened far more often than any who had travelled with him probably ever realised. Whatever it was though, he thought, giddy from the effort of looking up at the people lining the roof edges above, he'd have to think of it soon.
TBC
Aiming to update with the last part around midweek, Wednesday most likely.
Notes.
Please don't worry that I've not changed things so that Jack is dead. He's not. Both Rose and the Doctor think that Jack is dead. But for Jack what happened in Parting of the Ways still holds true.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Ninth Doctor/Rose
AU from end of Parting of the Way through The Christmas Invasion.
The Doctor doesn't regenerate after taking the time vortex from Rose. It doesn't mean he okay though, far from it.
Hurt/comfort and eventual Ninth Doctor/Rose
The Doctor wasn't precisely sure of how much time had passed between collapsing at Jackie's feet and waking up aching and miserable from another fever induced nightmare in Rose's old bedroom. He was dimly aware that this lack of awareness should tell him something significant about why he was so sick, but forcing his thoughts into any form of coherent order escaped him.
As one day turned into a second, the Doctor came to the conclusion that he had to look every bit as dreadful as he felt: what other possible explanation was there for Jackie being nice to him? Even Mickey had been round to give an awkward apology about wrenching open the TARDIS, and then even more awkwardly offering to help with any repairs. Like knowing how to fix the exhaust on Ford Fiesta in a back street garage was in some way adequate preparation to know how to recalibrate a rematerialization circuit.
He didn't know if Rose had told either of them about what had happened on the Game Station. Not that he was sure how much Rose remembered of having the time vortex in her head or what he'd done to remove it. As little as possible he hoped, the human mind wasn't mean to hold so much. As for the kiss, it really had been the fastest, most practical way to transfer the energy that was killing her to himself. It didn't have to mean anything more.
There didn't seem anything to be gained in mentioning any of it. The Doctor didn't see what he'd done as anything heroic or special. There wasn't anything else he could have done. He could hardly have let her die, not when she'd just saved the whole universe. Not when she'd saved him from both the Daleks and from himself.
....
As the second day progressed into the third the Doctor drifted in and out of sleep and conscious with no discernible pattern in what caused his fever rise or fall. That he wasn't getting an worse was of little comfort when he wasn't getting any better either.
The sound of a door being opened roused him from another strange and disjointed dream. He blinked, the light spilling in from Jackie's living room making his eyes water. "Rose?"
"No, it's Jackie. Rose is talking to Mickey. He's been worried sick about her, not that he'll admit it, but that's men for you," she said, sitting down on the chair that had been placed by the bed. "Look I don’t know exactly what happened up there, but I know it was bad. Rose said you were willing to die to save her, not once but twice, and I believe her."
The Doctor didn't reply. The dream he'd been caught in until a few moments before had been disorientating. Disjointed fragments of memories, splitting and whirling like pieces of a broken kaleidoscope, the overwhelming sense of falling and being buffeted about by unseen currents. Rolling onto his side the Doctor tried to ignore the nauseated feeling in his all too empty stomach and waited for the room to stop spinning.
"The thing is Rose isn't gonna to be happy until she knows you’re going to be alright, so what do I need to do? Jackie asked, showing no sign of leaving him alone. "I mean is there some alien medicine you need? Or something we've got here in London?"
"Don’t know,” the Doctor replied, voice weak and scratchy. "Never happened before, should have been impossible."
"I know Rose says I can’t take you to hospital, being as you aren't human," Jackie went on completely undeterred, "but you can’t go on like this, can you? Barely drinking, and you've not eaten at thing. Is there like a space NHS out there we can call? I mean you call yourself the Doctor, doesn’t your planet have any real doctors? Maybe one of them could come here?"
"No.” It's much harsher than he intended, but he can't talk about it. Not in the state he's in.
"No need to snap, I'm trying to help, aren't I? but really aren't there no space doctors out there at all?" Jackie sounded sceptical.
"Not for my kind, they're gone. I-" He only just managed to stop himself, because he isn’t going to do this with Jackie Tyler of all people, he’s not baring his soul to her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody could ever understand. And they could never forgive him. He didn't deserve it.
"Hey, mum you want a cuppa? Mickey’s just gone to get some milk, ours is off." Rose looked round the door. "Doctor, do you want anything?"
The Doctor doubted 'to be left alone because it's all he deserves' would be an acceptable answer. So he shook his head and closed his eyes. "Sleep."
"Mum, can we have a minute? Before the Doctor goes to sleep again," Rose asked, although it was clear she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Please?”
“Alright,” Jackie said reluctantly, “but think about it, there must be somebody who can help."
"Thought you might be in need of a rescue," Rose said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Mum can be… " She sighed, sounding exhausted. "She means well, she does, but sometimes… sometimes. She really does your head in.”
The Doctor silently took her hand in his, holding it tightly until finally the sick feeling abated and he drifted back to uneasy sleep.
.....
The Doctor wasn't sure what had woken him from the half asleep state he'd been drifting in. He wasn't even certain at first whether he was actually awake at all. Hot and uncomfortable, he lay there in the darkness and listened. After a minute he heard it again.
Crying. Soft and muffled. Like it was intentionally being hidden. He doubted it was Jackie, so that only left Rose. And it didn't matter how awful he felt there was absolutely no possible chance he was going to lay in bed and listen helplessly to her cry.
He was unsteady on his feet, but the Doctor told himself that if he moved slowly, and held onto walls and doors he could reach her without ending up in an undignified heap on the floor.
It was only a room away, but he was shaking with the effort of remaining on his feet by the time he was close enough to see her. Curled up in the sofa, her face pressed against the sleeve of her dressing gown, Rose tried to hide her tears.
"Oh Rose."
She looked round sharply, eyes wet with tears and wide in surprise. "Shh you'll wake Mum," she said in an urgent whisper, before adding, "You shouldn't be out of bed."
"You needed me," the Doctor replied, starting to sag against the door.
Getting up she, put an arm around him and helped him cover the last few steps to the sofa. "I'd have been okay. Don't want you getting worse 'cause of me."
Sinking down onto the sofa beside her with a barely repressed groan, the Doctor said softly, "I won't."
Rose bit her lip, not looking at him, her hands twisting in her lap.
"Rose, what is it?"
"Jacks gone, and I've barely thought about him since.... Since..." Rose's eyes were puffy and red as she looked at him. "It's Christmas, and I hadn't even got him a present, or you. I'd forgotten and now he's gone. He's really gone. And I know we can't bring him back, because that how time is, but it's not fair. It just not fair."
The Doctor couldn't think of any comforting words, and she was right there was no way for him to make anything better. So he put an arm around her and held tight her as started to sob.
Only as he felt her start to calm, her shoulders no longer shaking, did he speak. "Jackie would understand," he said, not wanting her to have to hide, he knew all to well how grief would eat you alive if you let it. "I don't always see eye to eye with her, but give her a chance."
"I can't, not about this. I'm only out here 'cause I didn't wanna wake her," she replied, weariness bourn of grief creeping into her voice. "I've not told her about Jack and you're not gonna do it either. If Mum knew how dangerous it can be she wouldn't want me going back, she make a fuss. But I have to, I have to stay with you, I can't lose you too."
The Doctor can't speak. He shouldn't let her stay. He'll get her killed if she stays with him. Yet he can't do it.. He can't send her away again any more than he could have sealed the doors to Van Statten's vault for a second time.
In that nightmare bunker she'd seen him raging nearly out of his mind in anger and grief and fear. And there hadn't been disappointment in her eyes that he wasn't some indestructible hero, whose actions were always beyond reproach. She'd seen he was broken. That he was all jagged edges that didn't fit comfortably into the universe or his own life anymore. She'd seen him, worse seen through him and it didn't scare her. It didn't seem to matter to her what he'd done, what given the provocation he could do again (and doesn't that thought scare him), not even what might happen to her if she stayed could make her turn away. No, she'd looked at him, seen the pain and desperation in his eyes, and answered with nothing but care and understanding.
And that was why he couldn't lose her. Because if Rose Tyler cared about him then maybe, just maybe there was something left in him that was still worth saving. The Doctor was half certain he was lying to himself, but tonight he was weak and lost and lonely, so for now he let himself believe.
He couldn't find the words to say any of it aloud, and maybe he never would, such things had never come easily to him even before his current regeneration. So he held her close until they both finally fell asleep.
....
The Doctor woke to the sound of someone hammering on the front door and Rose, already awake and dressed, rushing past him to open it. He'd barely had time to sit up on the sofa before Mickey hurried past and switched the TV on.
"Look, Rose I know he's not well, but there's aliens and they've got people up on the roof," Mickey said, pressing multiple buttons on the TV remote in his haste to change the channel. "Rajesh, from the garage, his mum is up there and old Mr Peebles. I think they're gonna make them jump."
"But he's got a walking frame," Jackie exclaimed, as if that was somehow more surprising than aliens making people leap from high buildings.
Mickey managed to find the correct channel in time, and they all watched in silence as Harriet Jones' gave her speech. After the her final plea for the Doctor, if he could hear her, to come to Earths aid, Mickey muted the TV.
Rose looked at the Doctor, who was once again shivering despite the heat radiating from him. "What are we gonna go?"
"Do? What I always do, I'm going to stop them," the Doctor said with far more confidence than he felt. "Come on." He stood up, then almost immediately sat back down again as his legs shook and threatened to give way beneath him.
"How?" Jackie looked at him and then at Rose. "You can't even stand up. Rose tell him. He's not well. There must be someone else."
It was a perfectly good and sensible question, and one to which the Doctor had absolutely no answer, so he promptly ignored it. "Just get me to the TARDIS."
Rose put a hand on his arm, clearly worried but still willing to back him up. "You sure?"
He wasn't, but he nodded anyway.
Mickey looked at them like they were both mad, then sighed, resigned to going along with whatever happened next, as he knew he'd do whatever Rose asked. "Alright, so where we going?"
Moments later, supported between Rose and Mickey, the Doctor unsteadily made his way out of the flats and down to where the TARDIS was waiting. He had no idea what he was going to do, which was something that happened far more often than any who had travelled with him probably ever realised. Whatever it was though, he thought, giddy from the effort of looking up at the people lining the roof edges above, he'd have to think of it soon.
TBC
Aiming to update with the last part around midweek, Wednesday most likely.
Notes.
Please don't worry that I've not changed things so that Jack is dead. He's not. Both Rose and the Doctor think that Jack is dead. But for Jack what happened in Parting of the Ways still holds true.