Rose Tyler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pinkandyellow) wrote2011-10-20 08:19 pm
pinkandyellow) wrote2011-10-20 08:19 pm
Multiversal Theory or How to Give Rose Tyler an Aneurism- Part Three
It was only out of reflex that Rose managed to duck the escaped metal pan that came flying in the general direction of her head.
“You what?” That would be Jackie Tyler's high-pitched squall, and Rose picked up the pan, handing it back to her mum.
“I'm going. I've got to.”
“But Rose- you said it yourself, you don't even know who he is, let alone whether or not he can even do anything about the space... spacey... spacial...”
“Multispacial temporal collapse,” Rose corrected impatiently, “And I can't just sit by and watch it happen. This might be my last chance to get back to him. I'm not gonna pass it up.”
Jackie shifted the child on her hip and rounded the kitchen counters, looking at her pleadingly. “But what am I supposed to do with you gone?”
“You've got Tony, now. And Dad. He needs looking after. Both of them.” She pursed her lips, pressing a hand to Jackie's shoulder, willing her to understand.
“But you're my daughter. I can't just...”
“Yes, you can, mum. It's my choice. I love you.”
Jackie sighed and lowered Tony to the ground, then moved to wrap her arms around Rose. “I know, sweetheart. Just... be careful. And tell him I don't care if it's another universe, I'll slap him good if he hurts you again. You be sure and tell him.”
“I will, mum.” She pulled back, squatted down, and gave Tony a kiss on the forehead.
And she was gone.
He was waiting, a shoulder pressed to the TARDIS, hands in his pockets, face expressionless. If he had anything to say on the matter, he kept it to himself, and motioned her in with a soft nod of his head. She pursed her lips at him, gave one last look to the mansion behind her, and entered. He followed, and the door clicked shut.
It took her a moment to get past the swelling in her chest at the familiar sight. For so long, the TARDIS had been home. This one... she couldn't feel it as well in her head, but there was still something comforting, a soft hum, and she pressed a hand flat against the console.
The Doctor strode up the ramp and headed immediately for the monitor.
“Right. I've got a plan. A plan-ish. More like a general... itinerary, but it works well enough. One, find out what's causing the collapse, and stop it. Two, try and locate your home universe. C- or three, or maybe a little... subsection below two- find your Doctor.”
She nodded, not really trusting herself to speak yet. It seemed like a good enough plan-ish to her, even if it was going to be... way more complicated than he was making it out to be.
“Will we be able to travel through universes once we fix the collapse?”
He didn't look entirely concerned. “Easy as cake. Pie. Some round desert. I told you travel between universes used to be simple, in, out, Bob's your uncle. After the Time Lords left, there was nothing to lock onto, no magnetic pull, no place to hitch the horse, no bulls-eye to shoot the arrow-”
“I get it, yeah,” She interrupted, looking amused.
“Right Sorry. All we need to do is lock onto a universe with another Time Lord in it, and we can pop right through.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“There's just one thing, Rose.” He turned to her, looking serious. “Once I leave this universe, the window is going to close. After a week, my presence will fade, and your universe will drop off the map. The only reason I was able to go there in the first place is because I caught the tail end of your Doctor. After we leave, there's no going back. No magnet. No version of me'll be able to go there ever again. That's what he meant by sealed off. Do you understand? Your Jackie, Mickey, Pete... you'll never see them again.”
She met his eyes and gave a single, slow nod. “I know.”
He held her gaze firmly, unmoving.
And then his hand jerked on the lever. No second chances. The TARDIS dematerialized.
“Go pick a room. Unpack. It's going to take a while to try and lock onto the source of the disturbance.” She nodded, and made toward the corridor, pausing with her hand pressed against the wall.
“Doctor?”
He glanced up at her.
“Thank you.”
He gave a smile, the smallest hint of one, and nodded at her, before turning away again.
She headed down the hallway.
-
She just walked, for a long time, trailing her fingers along the walls. This wasn't her TARDIS, but she still felt connected to it, somehow, and judging by the gentle pulse of the lights, the old girl felt the same. She followed her feet, around a few corners, up a flight of steps, and past an archway.
The hallway dead-ended at a door. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, looking puzzled, and hesitated just a second, before crossing a few feet and pressing a hand to the door.
It was pink. She had a sneaking suspicion of who this room belonged to, and almost felt like an intruder. Something urged her on, though, and she tightened a hand around the doorknob, then pushed it open gently.
Sure enough, it looked startlingly similar to the room she'd had on her own TARDIS. Everything was pink, clothes were strewn across the floor. She walked in, gingerly fingering a blue shirt that had been thrown casually onto the bedspread.
The bed was rumpled.
There was a framed photo on the nightstand, a photo of the two of them, smiling, wearing paper Christmas hats. Stuffed haphazardly into the outside of the frame was a photo montage, one of those five-dollar mall booth strips. Her first Doctor and Jack sat on either side of her, the former trying and failing to look grumpy, the latter grinning a charming, leg-shaking grin.
She smiled faintly. She had similar memories of the experience, though she'd been wearing a different outfit in her own photo set, and- was the Doctor wearing a t-shirt instead of a jumper? That was different.
She walked over to the small desk, pushed against the wall, covered in papers and scribblings and makeup. A flash of color caught her eye and she furrowed her brow, tugging out a crisp sheet of something too thick to be paper. Card stock, maybe?
It was a drawing, done in something that wasn't marker or paint, something... different. Fluid, like ink. Probably alien, she wasn't sure. A golden figure, breaking through the darkness, arm outstretched. She recognized it as herself, the fading memories that she had from Satellite Five. Except it was... different. There was no TARDIS in the backdrop, it didn't tug at a place in her mind like seeing the words did.
It was beautiful, but it didn't feel like... her.
In a flash of intuition, she rolled it up quickly and slit it into her pocket. She turned and half-jumped when she realized he was standing there, watching her quietly. She felt guilty, at first, but he didn't look disapproving. Just... tired.
“I'm sorry.” He said softly.
“For what?”
“Everything. Him. It... hurts.” He looked... hollow. It hurt, to know she couldn't fix it, because he wasn't... hers. She didn't want to try and replace his Rose, couldn't, and he couldn't take the place of her Doctor.
But... that didn't mean they couldn't... be there for each other, right? Maybe that was just the part of her brain that refused to stand there and let him look so alone.
“Me, too.” She replied.
He glanced up at her, brow furrowing a bit. “For what?”
“Everything. Her.”
He looked like he was going to protest. His mouth closed, though, and he just... nodded slightly.
She moved to leave the room, brushing passed him, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. Because that wasn't her room. It never would be. They both knew that, and he seemed to appreciate the sentiment.
She smiled at him softly. “It's gonna be okay.”
He nodded. She didn't take his hand, but she threaded her arm through his, leading them to the kitchen. It was time, she thought, for some tea.
“You what?” That would be Jackie Tyler's high-pitched squall, and Rose picked up the pan, handing it back to her mum.
“I'm going. I've got to.”
“But Rose- you said it yourself, you don't even know who he is, let alone whether or not he can even do anything about the space... spacey... spacial...”
“Multispacial temporal collapse,” Rose corrected impatiently, “And I can't just sit by and watch it happen. This might be my last chance to get back to him. I'm not gonna pass it up.”
Jackie shifted the child on her hip and rounded the kitchen counters, looking at her pleadingly. “But what am I supposed to do with you gone?”
“You've got Tony, now. And Dad. He needs looking after. Both of them.” She pursed her lips, pressing a hand to Jackie's shoulder, willing her to understand.
“But you're my daughter. I can't just...”
“Yes, you can, mum. It's my choice. I love you.”
Jackie sighed and lowered Tony to the ground, then moved to wrap her arms around Rose. “I know, sweetheart. Just... be careful. And tell him I don't care if it's another universe, I'll slap him good if he hurts you again. You be sure and tell him.”
“I will, mum.” She pulled back, squatted down, and gave Tony a kiss on the forehead.
And she was gone.
He was waiting, a shoulder pressed to the TARDIS, hands in his pockets, face expressionless. If he had anything to say on the matter, he kept it to himself, and motioned her in with a soft nod of his head. She pursed her lips at him, gave one last look to the mansion behind her, and entered. He followed, and the door clicked shut.
It took her a moment to get past the swelling in her chest at the familiar sight. For so long, the TARDIS had been home. This one... she couldn't feel it as well in her head, but there was still something comforting, a soft hum, and she pressed a hand flat against the console.
The Doctor strode up the ramp and headed immediately for the monitor.
“Right. I've got a plan. A plan-ish. More like a general... itinerary, but it works well enough. One, find out what's causing the collapse, and stop it. Two, try and locate your home universe. C- or three, or maybe a little... subsection below two- find your Doctor.”
She nodded, not really trusting herself to speak yet. It seemed like a good enough plan-ish to her, even if it was going to be... way more complicated than he was making it out to be.
“Will we be able to travel through universes once we fix the collapse?”
He didn't look entirely concerned. “Easy as cake. Pie. Some round desert. I told you travel between universes used to be simple, in, out, Bob's your uncle. After the Time Lords left, there was nothing to lock onto, no magnetic pull, no place to hitch the horse, no bulls-eye to shoot the arrow-”
“I get it, yeah,” She interrupted, looking amused.
“Right Sorry. All we need to do is lock onto a universe with another Time Lord in it, and we can pop right through.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“There's just one thing, Rose.” He turned to her, looking serious. “Once I leave this universe, the window is going to close. After a week, my presence will fade, and your universe will drop off the map. The only reason I was able to go there in the first place is because I caught the tail end of your Doctor. After we leave, there's no going back. No magnet. No version of me'll be able to go there ever again. That's what he meant by sealed off. Do you understand? Your Jackie, Mickey, Pete... you'll never see them again.”
She met his eyes and gave a single, slow nod. “I know.”
He held her gaze firmly, unmoving.
And then his hand jerked on the lever. No second chances. The TARDIS dematerialized.
“Go pick a room. Unpack. It's going to take a while to try and lock onto the source of the disturbance.” She nodded, and made toward the corridor, pausing with her hand pressed against the wall.
“Doctor?”
He glanced up at her.
“Thank you.”
He gave a smile, the smallest hint of one, and nodded at her, before turning away again.
She headed down the hallway.
-
She just walked, for a long time, trailing her fingers along the walls. This wasn't her TARDIS, but she still felt connected to it, somehow, and judging by the gentle pulse of the lights, the old girl felt the same. She followed her feet, around a few corners, up a flight of steps, and past an archway.
The hallway dead-ended at a door. She paused, glancing up at the ceiling, looking puzzled, and hesitated just a second, before crossing a few feet and pressing a hand to the door.
It was pink. She had a sneaking suspicion of who this room belonged to, and almost felt like an intruder. Something urged her on, though, and she tightened a hand around the doorknob, then pushed it open gently.
Sure enough, it looked startlingly similar to the room she'd had on her own TARDIS. Everything was pink, clothes were strewn across the floor. She walked in, gingerly fingering a blue shirt that had been thrown casually onto the bedspread.
The bed was rumpled.
There was a framed photo on the nightstand, a photo of the two of them, smiling, wearing paper Christmas hats. Stuffed haphazardly into the outside of the frame was a photo montage, one of those five-dollar mall booth strips. Her first Doctor and Jack sat on either side of her, the former trying and failing to look grumpy, the latter grinning a charming, leg-shaking grin.
She smiled faintly. She had similar memories of the experience, though she'd been wearing a different outfit in her own photo set, and- was the Doctor wearing a t-shirt instead of a jumper? That was different.
She walked over to the small desk, pushed against the wall, covered in papers and scribblings and makeup. A flash of color caught her eye and she furrowed her brow, tugging out a crisp sheet of something too thick to be paper. Card stock, maybe?
It was a drawing, done in something that wasn't marker or paint, something... different. Fluid, like ink. Probably alien, she wasn't sure. A golden figure, breaking through the darkness, arm outstretched. She recognized it as herself, the fading memories that she had from Satellite Five. Except it was... different. There was no TARDIS in the backdrop, it didn't tug at a place in her mind like seeing the words did.
It was beautiful, but it didn't feel like... her.
In a flash of intuition, she rolled it up quickly and slit it into her pocket. She turned and half-jumped when she realized he was standing there, watching her quietly. She felt guilty, at first, but he didn't look disapproving. Just... tired.
“I'm sorry.” He said softly.
“For what?”
“Everything. Him. It... hurts.” He looked... hollow. It hurt, to know she couldn't fix it, because he wasn't... hers. She didn't want to try and replace his Rose, couldn't, and he couldn't take the place of her Doctor.
But... that didn't mean they couldn't... be there for each other, right? Maybe that was just the part of her brain that refused to stand there and let him look so alone.
“Me, too.” She replied.
He glanced up at her, brow furrowing a bit. “For what?”
“Everything. Her.”
He looked like he was going to protest. His mouth closed, though, and he just... nodded slightly.
She moved to leave the room, brushing passed him, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. Because that wasn't her room. It never would be. They both knew that, and he seemed to appreciate the sentiment.
She smiled at him softly. “It's gonna be okay.”
He nodded. She didn't take his hand, but she threaded her arm through his, leading them to the kitchen. It was time, she thought, for some tea.