Fullness of Time
Title: Fullness of Time
Rating: G/PG
Characters: Twelve/Rose
Summary: Three stories to get from the end to the beginning. Post-Doomsday (well, really, post-everything).
NB: Spoilers that are only spoilers if you know what they'd be spoiling, and for Expanded Universe stuff at that. Basically, I knew the story I wanted to write, went to wikipedia, and found it fit remarkably well with significant parts of canon.
In a small town in Norway, there were stories told about a man. This man would appear from time to time, for half a century, always alone, and walk the beach. In all weathers and all seasons he would re-appear. Some said he was Odin, come to seek the wolf, for his face was said to change. Others said he was a spy, and his box was for surveillance. And still others said he was from beyond the stars: though they couldn’t see the ships in Norway, A positive is the most common blood type.
There are a few who tell a story of a boy who spoke to the man. He told the boy that he came to this place because he was lonely. The boy asked him how walking alone on the beach could make him less lonely. He said that he was not often alone, but, when he was, he came here, because this was the last place he had seen a woman he had loved. The boy asked him what her name was, since everyone in the village knew each other, and if he did not know her, his mother or grandmother would. The man said that she was far away, and no one here would know her. He said that she was the first person who had loved him after all his family were lost. He said that she could not live much longer, being only human, and he laughed. Then he turned to the boy and said-and this is always the same, no matter who tells the story-“If you ever find someone who will not leave you, do not lose them. It would be better to lose all the stars in the Universe or all the years in Time.”
In a family in England, there was a story told, about Grandpa Jack’s sister. Really, there were many stories told about Aunt Rose, but no one believed most of them. The one that he only told on the last night before everyone went home from holiday, when half the family had gone to bed, and he’d had a bit to drink, that was the one that his children told their children, and they told their children. Not their friends, classmates, or co-workers: only their family.
The story they tell is that, when Rose was 70, she went a bit mad. She began searching the telefeed for some signal she couldn’t describe, but said she’d know when she saw it. And she began building a ship. As she had gotten older, unlike most people, her memory did not grow fainter, but sharper. If anything, she was overwhelmed by her memories. Then, one day, she hugged her little brother (who now looked 20 years her senior), and told him she loved him, but she was going home.
In all the Universes, in all of Time, there is a story never told. The only two people who could have told it knew better than to risk the consequences.
She was standing on a terrace in New New York when she heard the sound. She did not run to find it. She had learned patience. She did hope he was alone, for her sake, if not his. When she finally saw him, it was on the sidewalk in front of the Duke’s apartment in the city.
“Hello,” she said, as he walked past.
“Hello,” he replied, turning. He scratched his forehead with this thumb, “Do I know you?”
“No,” she answered, smiling, “Not anymore, I suppose.”
“I’m sorry?” he took a step toward her.
“I looked for a way back, you see, for years. Decades. I don’t know how long. But I fell into a hole, a tear. I fell and fell,” she looked off down the street. She still wasn’t altogether comfortable talking to people again.
“I don’t understand,” he put his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“You can’t touch the vortex without being changed,” she said, focusing on talking to him, staying linear.
“The vortex?” he searched her face, but she remained calm, telling the story.
“I think I died. I fell for centuries, and I remembered everything. Everything I ever saw, touched, heard. Remembered it perfectly. And I changed. Who I had been became such a small part of who I was: who I am. I fell through the void, and I asked for only one thing. I asked to come back here, and even as I begged, I knew that I would, that I had to, because I figured out who I am now. Do you know, Doctor? I’m the first. The first of the Time Lords.”
“Rose…” he raised a hand to her cheek.
“There’s so much I don’t know, though. So much I need you to tell me, so I can start it. And I need to find Gallifrey. Find it in the now,” she had a whole list of things that needed to be done, in order.
“Rose, wait. Just…just wait a minute, please,” he held up his hand, and she realized that she had gone too fast. He wasn’t keeping up with her.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“For me? A couple centuries,” it was his face, more than his words, that told just how long that was.
“And you regenerated.”
“Twice, but look who’s talking. I mean, look at you. You look lovely,” something he had not said to anyone in more than a century.
“It’s what I thought a Time Lady should look like, I think. And you finally got to be ginger,” she reached toward his hair, but stopped short.
“Yes,” he laughed and ran a hand through his hair, “Yes, I did. Oh, Rose.” He hugged her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see anyone in my life.”
“Let alone a Time Lord?” this was important, she knew. This was asking him to do something big in the Universe, to start something, and not just react.
He pulled back. “About that…” confusion, amazement, relief, curiosity. Discovery, not disapproval. For a moment, she felt 20 again.
“I don’t know how it happened. I just...something larger took a hold of me. I know it sounds mad.”
“You’re here. I don’t-I honestly don’t care how.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Character flaw.”
“Listen, can we go somewhere and talk? If you’re in the middle of something, I can wait. Assuming the planet isn’t about to explode.”
“No. No, I’m just here on holiday.” They started walking back the way he had come.
“As if that ever stopped the planet almost exploding,” she fell back into their old patter.
“Now, I will have you know that planets almost never explode,” he said, not missing a beat.
“No, that would be the stars they orbit.”
“Well, I suppose that’s not entirely inaccurate.”
“Are you…here alone, then?”
“Subtle.”
“I remember Sarah Jane.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you do. Yes, I am here alone. The last girl, Trina, she met a nice young man on Vetarnin. They seem to do that a lot.”
“Do what?”
“Meet nice young men.”
“Well, that’s their loss then, isn’t it?”
“Maybe so, but, not everyone’s made for it, this life. Even if they want to be.”
“And the lifestyle’s part of the package. Speaking of, where is the TARDIS?”
“Just the next street over. I think you’ll like what I’ve done with her.”
“I liked it better the old way,” she said, a few steps inside the door.
“Everyone always says that.”
“It looked bigger before.”
“I know. Too big,” he ran his hands over the controls.
“But this is good. It looks right, somehow,” she circled the room in a few steps, tracing the designs in the stone.
“Good. I’m glad you hrmmmnrrrrnnn,” he said, losing the thought as she kissed him.
“Sorry,” she said, “I just needed to-“
“Turning into your mother in your old age?” he asked, over her explanation.
“Never,” she said, “well, not really. I mean, not exactly. Mum would never have gone looking,” she took a step back, and ended up with her back against a wall
“She’d never have known to, let alone how to,” he leaned against the console.
“I traveled across two galaxies to find a rift, and across three other Universes-in a spaceship, mind you-before I fell into the Void.”
“Just to find little old me?”
“When we were saying goodbye, on the beach, when you disappeared, you were…”
“You know what I was saying.”
“Yes, but, would you please, just…three Universes. Tell me it wasn’t for nothing.”
“Well, if you asked Shakespeare...” he looked at her, and thought better of his levity, “It wasn’t. If I’d thought there was any way to get to you, you know I would have…”
“Burned up a Sun, just to say goodbye.”
“Imagine what I would have done not to.”
“Then just say it.”
“Rose Tyler,” he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I love you.”
There were a few more who could tell of the finding of the planet, of the gathering of travelers, of how Rose lost her name, of how she found the Doctor’s, before his was lost to history and a new one given to her, of their children and the secret battle that caused their granddaughter to be the last Time Lord born for millennia, of the duplicity and deception of their allies that led to her madness and death, and his death and re-birth, to live his story again from the beginning. There were those who could tell these stories, but they had their own yarns to spin, to their own ends.
But, somehow, without being told any of these stories, when the time comes again for The Doctor, as he was and will be called, to first meet Rose Tyler, he will know, though he could not put words to it, that, whatever might separate them in any moment, they will be together in the fullness of Time.
Rating: G/PG
Characters: Twelve/Rose
Summary: Three stories to get from the end to the beginning. Post-Doomsday (well, really, post-everything).
NB: Spoilers that are only spoilers if you know what they'd be spoiling, and for Expanded Universe stuff at that. Basically, I knew the story I wanted to write, went to wikipedia, and found it fit remarkably well with significant parts of canon.
In a small town in Norway, there were stories told about a man. This man would appear from time to time, for half a century, always alone, and walk the beach. In all weathers and all seasons he would re-appear. Some said he was Odin, come to seek the wolf, for his face was said to change. Others said he was a spy, and his box was for surveillance. And still others said he was from beyond the stars: though they couldn’t see the ships in Norway, A positive is the most common blood type.
There are a few who tell a story of a boy who spoke to the man. He told the boy that he came to this place because he was lonely. The boy asked him how walking alone on the beach could make him less lonely. He said that he was not often alone, but, when he was, he came here, because this was the last place he had seen a woman he had loved. The boy asked him what her name was, since everyone in the village knew each other, and if he did not know her, his mother or grandmother would. The man said that she was far away, and no one here would know her. He said that she was the first person who had loved him after all his family were lost. He said that she could not live much longer, being only human, and he laughed. Then he turned to the boy and said-and this is always the same, no matter who tells the story-“If you ever find someone who will not leave you, do not lose them. It would be better to lose all the stars in the Universe or all the years in Time.”
In a family in England, there was a story told, about Grandpa Jack’s sister. Really, there were many stories told about Aunt Rose, but no one believed most of them. The one that he only told on the last night before everyone went home from holiday, when half the family had gone to bed, and he’d had a bit to drink, that was the one that his children told their children, and they told their children. Not their friends, classmates, or co-workers: only their family.
The story they tell is that, when Rose was 70, she went a bit mad. She began searching the telefeed for some signal she couldn’t describe, but said she’d know when she saw it. And she began building a ship. As she had gotten older, unlike most people, her memory did not grow fainter, but sharper. If anything, she was overwhelmed by her memories. Then, one day, she hugged her little brother (who now looked 20 years her senior), and told him she loved him, but she was going home.
In all the Universes, in all of Time, there is a story never told. The only two people who could have told it knew better than to risk the consequences.
She was standing on a terrace in New New York when she heard the sound. She did not run to find it. She had learned patience. She did hope he was alone, for her sake, if not his. When she finally saw him, it was on the sidewalk in front of the Duke’s apartment in the city.
“Hello,” she said, as he walked past.
“Hello,” he replied, turning. He scratched his forehead with this thumb, “Do I know you?”
“No,” she answered, smiling, “Not anymore, I suppose.”
“I’m sorry?” he took a step toward her.
“I looked for a way back, you see, for years. Decades. I don’t know how long. But I fell into a hole, a tear. I fell and fell,” she looked off down the street. She still wasn’t altogether comfortable talking to people again.
“I don’t understand,” he put his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“You can’t touch the vortex without being changed,” she said, focusing on talking to him, staying linear.
“The vortex?” he searched her face, but she remained calm, telling the story.
“I think I died. I fell for centuries, and I remembered everything. Everything I ever saw, touched, heard. Remembered it perfectly. And I changed. Who I had been became such a small part of who I was: who I am. I fell through the void, and I asked for only one thing. I asked to come back here, and even as I begged, I knew that I would, that I had to, because I figured out who I am now. Do you know, Doctor? I’m the first. The first of the Time Lords.”
“Rose…” he raised a hand to her cheek.
“There’s so much I don’t know, though. So much I need you to tell me, so I can start it. And I need to find Gallifrey. Find it in the now,” she had a whole list of things that needed to be done, in order.
“Rose, wait. Just…just wait a minute, please,” he held up his hand, and she realized that she had gone too fast. He wasn’t keeping up with her.
“How long has it been?” she asked.
“For me? A couple centuries,” it was his face, more than his words, that told just how long that was.
“And you regenerated.”
“Twice, but look who’s talking. I mean, look at you. You look lovely,” something he had not said to anyone in more than a century.
“It’s what I thought a Time Lady should look like, I think. And you finally got to be ginger,” she reached toward his hair, but stopped short.
“Yes,” he laughed and ran a hand through his hair, “Yes, I did. Oh, Rose.” He hugged her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see anyone in my life.”
“Let alone a Time Lord?” this was important, she knew. This was asking him to do something big in the Universe, to start something, and not just react.
He pulled back. “About that…” confusion, amazement, relief, curiosity. Discovery, not disapproval. For a moment, she felt 20 again.
“I don’t know how it happened. I just...something larger took a hold of me. I know it sounds mad.”
“You’re here. I don’t-I honestly don’t care how.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Character flaw.”
“Listen, can we go somewhere and talk? If you’re in the middle of something, I can wait. Assuming the planet isn’t about to explode.”
“No. No, I’m just here on holiday.” They started walking back the way he had come.
“As if that ever stopped the planet almost exploding,” she fell back into their old patter.
“Now, I will have you know that planets almost never explode,” he said, not missing a beat.
“No, that would be the stars they orbit.”
“Well, I suppose that’s not entirely inaccurate.”
“Are you…here alone, then?”
“Subtle.”
“I remember Sarah Jane.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you do. Yes, I am here alone. The last girl, Trina, she met a nice young man on Vetarnin. They seem to do that a lot.”
“Do what?”
“Meet nice young men.”
“Well, that’s their loss then, isn’t it?”
“Maybe so, but, not everyone’s made for it, this life. Even if they want to be.”
“And the lifestyle’s part of the package. Speaking of, where is the TARDIS?”
“Just the next street over. I think you’ll like what I’ve done with her.”
“I liked it better the old way,” she said, a few steps inside the door.
“Everyone always says that.”
“It looked bigger before.”
“I know. Too big,” he ran his hands over the controls.
“But this is good. It looks right, somehow,” she circled the room in a few steps, tracing the designs in the stone.
“Good. I’m glad you hrmmmnrrrrnnn,” he said, losing the thought as she kissed him.
“Sorry,” she said, “I just needed to-“
“Turning into your mother in your old age?” he asked, over her explanation.
“Never,” she said, “well, not really. I mean, not exactly. Mum would never have gone looking,” she took a step back, and ended up with her back against a wall
“She’d never have known to, let alone how to,” he leaned against the console.
“I traveled across two galaxies to find a rift, and across three other Universes-in a spaceship, mind you-before I fell into the Void.”
“Just to find little old me?”
“When we were saying goodbye, on the beach, when you disappeared, you were…”
“You know what I was saying.”
“Yes, but, would you please, just…three Universes. Tell me it wasn’t for nothing.”
“Well, if you asked Shakespeare...” he looked at her, and thought better of his levity, “It wasn’t. If I’d thought there was any way to get to you, you know I would have…”
“Burned up a Sun, just to say goodbye.”
“Imagine what I would have done not to.”
“Then just say it.”
“Rose Tyler,” he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I love you.”
There were a few more who could tell of the finding of the planet, of the gathering of travelers, of how Rose lost her name, of how she found the Doctor’s, before his was lost to history and a new one given to her, of their children and the secret battle that caused their granddaughter to be the last Time Lord born for millennia, of the duplicity and deception of their allies that led to her madness and death, and his death and re-birth, to live his story again from the beginning. There were those who could tell these stories, but they had their own yarns to spin, to their own ends.
But, somehow, without being told any of these stories, when the time comes again for The Doctor, as he was and will be called, to first meet Rose Tyler, he will know, though he could not put words to it, that, whatever might separate them in any moment, they will be together in the fullness of Time.