The Possibility of Ways
Dec. 1st, 2006 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teleidoplexTitle: The Possibility of Ways
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Media: Doctor Who (Season 2 AU)
Characters: Nine/Rose
Summary: In an infinite Universe nothing is set and everything is possible, but in choosing an alternate route there are always repercussions.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2, Old Season 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, but I wouldn't mind ten minutes alone in the TARDIS
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
The Possibility of Ways
“Alice laughed: ‘There's no use trying,’ she said; ‘one can't believe impossible things.’
‘I daresay you haven't had much practice,’ said the Queen. ‘When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’ ”
– Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Prologue – Departures
He pulled away from her, his being filled with the infinite possibilities of the Time Vortex. The TARDIS’ voice was stronger than ever in his head. It was a haunting, lyrical music that called him onwards – never still, always seeking. Restless. Wandering. Rose’s body sagged in his arms, and the part of him that still stood on Floor 500 of the Game Station lowered her gently to the deck. The rest of him was already schisming throughout time in a way far greater than he’d ever experienced.
He shielded his mind against it, forcing himself not to look. No one was meant to know this. Centuries of Time Lord instructions and strictures, which he’d often railed against in the past, now helped to bolster him. He narrowed his focus, shutting out his awareness of the vistas of time and space, concentrating on the Self/Not Self that was Rose Tyler.
Her cells were decaying rapidly, an entropic acceleration caused by holding infinity in the palm of her hand. He felt himself momentarily distracted as another someone, somewhen, somewhere thought the same phrase. He listened in wonder as it began rippling out from that point, echoing like windchimes, shattering like falling glass towards the entropic pull that gave time directionality. He pulled back from the temptation to follow the spreading network of moments connected by that phrase. The world in a grain of sand, indeed. He could meditate on Blake later.
Reaching down into Rose with the tiniest part of his being that was Here and not Elsewhere, he halted the acceleration and reversed the decay. Just resetting the clock, so to speak. Hickory, dickory, dock. Again he felt entropy’s tug towards eternity, but it was easier to resist this time. He wasn’t much interested in Mother Goose.
And thinking of silly geese, time to take care of the gander. He reached into Self and made the same shift. Certainly, there were regenerations to explore, but there was no need to rush in. He was The Doctor, not The Fool. Maintaining that cellular equilibrium, he began exhaling, releasing the Vortex to his beautiful TARDIS, letting her take it from him and guide it back into Creation, the only vessel that could safely and properly contain it. He stumbled slightly as the last bits left him, the bits that he had used for his slight adjustments. Then the TARDIS’ console was closed, her heart hidden and protected. The blueish light of Floor 500 seemed even more dim and murky in the absence of the golden Vortex.
Bending down, he gently scooped up Rose. His silly girl, his clever ape. His Rose, by any other name. He could still taste her lips on his. He shoved that thought back into the guarded recesses of his mind, along with Blake and Mother Goose. It was a then thing. Best not to think about it now.
Carrying her into the TARDIS, he deposited her on the floor beside the console, then feverishly began working the controls. Already he could feel the after-effects of the Vortex, those final moments when he’d had to let go and couldn’t quite shield himself with it. He didn’t think he’d die, but he’d be in for a bumpy ride over the next little while. He needed to get them moving to somewhere safe (well, safe-ish… he couldn’t remember the last time his girl had landed him somewhere safe) before he became completely useless.
Rose was awakening as the TARDIS began her strange, asthmatic whirring. He saw his companion blinking away her confusion.
“What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?” He maintained his normal demeanor of manic cheeriness, but he was honestly curious how much of the experience her fragile, human mind had been able to retain. She began to sit up, narrowing her eyes as she tried to access the memories.
“It’s like… there was this singing….”
“That’s right,” he responded jauntily. “I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.”
“I was at home,” she continued, not willing to let him divert her from trying to recover the memories. “No, I was in the TARDIS. There was this light.” She glanced around, as if recollection could be found amongst the curved amber walls of his ship. She shook her head. “I can’t remember anything else.”
“Rose Tyler.” He turned away from the TARDIS’ console, suddenly serious. He could feel the ravages of the last bits of the Time Vortex, feel his body fighting back. He knew that one way or another the next few days were going to be a dodgy prospect, and he had to prepare her to be strong. “It was you. You took the Time Vortex into yourself and you stopped the Daleks. Destroyed them. Atomized them, really. You were fantastic.” His sudden grin was as wide as anything, and despite her obvious confusion and growing worry she smiled back shyly. “But it was killing you. No one’s meant to take that kind of power into themselves, not even a Time Lord.” His face and voice were tightening from the pain that was welling up inside his body, “I took it from you. Fixed you. Fixed me too, mostly, before I released it.”
“I don’t remember any of it.” Her voice was small, frightened. She stood and leaned against one of the TARDIS’ supports.
“No, you wouldn’t. Better if you don’t try to remember, really.” He grimaced and wrapped long arms around his middle, doubling over in pain.
“Doctor? Doctor, what’s wrong?” She hurried over to him, self-concern replaced with worry for him. He tried to straighten and smile away her worries.
“Don’t worry about me, Rose. This old body of mine can take quite a beating before it gives up. But,” he closed his eyes and gave up trying to soften what was to come, “I’m in for a rough time of it for the next few days, until I can heal from the Vortex. And so are you. What you did, what we both did… that kind of thing causes ripples, creates other problems. It’s basic physics, that energy is never destroyed, just transformed. It’s going to come back to haunt us for some time. I’ve set the TARDIS to take us somewhere safe, but….” His voice faded as the pain began to overwhelm him.
“Shh… it’s alright, Doctor. We can handle it. We can handle anything.” They were both kneeling now, next to the console. Rose’s arms circled loosely around his shoulders, ready to support him.
“I hope you’re right.” He gave up trying to be strong for her and let himself collapse into her arms with a final gasp, “Happy Christmas, Rose.”
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Media: Doctor Who (Season 2 AU)
Characters: Nine/Rose
Summary: In an infinite Universe nothing is set and everything is possible, but in choosing an alternate route there are always repercussions.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2, Old Season 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, but I wouldn't mind ten minutes alone in the TARDIS
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
The Possibility of Ways
“Alice laughed: ‘There's no use trying,’ she said; ‘one can't believe impossible things.’
‘I daresay you haven't had much practice,’ said the Queen. ‘When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’ ”
– Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Prologue – Departures
He pulled away from her, his being filled with the infinite possibilities of the Time Vortex. The TARDIS’ voice was stronger than ever in his head. It was a haunting, lyrical music that called him onwards – never still, always seeking. Restless. Wandering. Rose’s body sagged in his arms, and the part of him that still stood on Floor 500 of the Game Station lowered her gently to the deck. The rest of him was already schisming throughout time in a way far greater than he’d ever experienced.
He shielded his mind against it, forcing himself not to look. No one was meant to know this. Centuries of Time Lord instructions and strictures, which he’d often railed against in the past, now helped to bolster him. He narrowed his focus, shutting out his awareness of the vistas of time and space, concentrating on the Self/Not Self that was Rose Tyler.
Her cells were decaying rapidly, an entropic acceleration caused by holding infinity in the palm of her hand. He felt himself momentarily distracted as another someone, somewhen, somewhere thought the same phrase. He listened in wonder as it began rippling out from that point, echoing like windchimes, shattering like falling glass towards the entropic pull that gave time directionality. He pulled back from the temptation to follow the spreading network of moments connected by that phrase. The world in a grain of sand, indeed. He could meditate on Blake later.
Reaching down into Rose with the tiniest part of his being that was Here and not Elsewhere, he halted the acceleration and reversed the decay. Just resetting the clock, so to speak. Hickory, dickory, dock. Again he felt entropy’s tug towards eternity, but it was easier to resist this time. He wasn’t much interested in Mother Goose.
And thinking of silly geese, time to take care of the gander. He reached into Self and made the same shift. Certainly, there were regenerations to explore, but there was no need to rush in. He was The Doctor, not The Fool. Maintaining that cellular equilibrium, he began exhaling, releasing the Vortex to his beautiful TARDIS, letting her take it from him and guide it back into Creation, the only vessel that could safely and properly contain it. He stumbled slightly as the last bits left him, the bits that he had used for his slight adjustments. Then the TARDIS’ console was closed, her heart hidden and protected. The blueish light of Floor 500 seemed even more dim and murky in the absence of the golden Vortex.
Bending down, he gently scooped up Rose. His silly girl, his clever ape. His Rose, by any other name. He could still taste her lips on his. He shoved that thought back into the guarded recesses of his mind, along with Blake and Mother Goose. It was a then thing. Best not to think about it now.
Carrying her into the TARDIS, he deposited her on the floor beside the console, then feverishly began working the controls. Already he could feel the after-effects of the Vortex, those final moments when he’d had to let go and couldn’t quite shield himself with it. He didn’t think he’d die, but he’d be in for a bumpy ride over the next little while. He needed to get them moving to somewhere safe (well, safe-ish… he couldn’t remember the last time his girl had landed him somewhere safe) before he became completely useless.
Rose was awakening as the TARDIS began her strange, asthmatic whirring. He saw his companion blinking away her confusion.
“What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?” He maintained his normal demeanor of manic cheeriness, but he was honestly curious how much of the experience her fragile, human mind had been able to retain. She began to sit up, narrowing her eyes as she tried to access the memories.
“It’s like… there was this singing….”
“That’s right,” he responded jauntily. “I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.”
“I was at home,” she continued, not willing to let him divert her from trying to recover the memories. “No, I was in the TARDIS. There was this light.” She glanced around, as if recollection could be found amongst the curved amber walls of his ship. She shook her head. “I can’t remember anything else.”
“Rose Tyler.” He turned away from the TARDIS’ console, suddenly serious. He could feel the ravages of the last bits of the Time Vortex, feel his body fighting back. He knew that one way or another the next few days were going to be a dodgy prospect, and he had to prepare her to be strong. “It was you. You took the Time Vortex into yourself and you stopped the Daleks. Destroyed them. Atomized them, really. You were fantastic.” His sudden grin was as wide as anything, and despite her obvious confusion and growing worry she smiled back shyly. “But it was killing you. No one’s meant to take that kind of power into themselves, not even a Time Lord.” His face and voice were tightening from the pain that was welling up inside his body, “I took it from you. Fixed you. Fixed me too, mostly, before I released it.”
“I don’t remember any of it.” Her voice was small, frightened. She stood and leaned against one of the TARDIS’ supports.
“No, you wouldn’t. Better if you don’t try to remember, really.” He grimaced and wrapped long arms around his middle, doubling over in pain.
“Doctor? Doctor, what’s wrong?” She hurried over to him, self-concern replaced with worry for him. He tried to straighten and smile away her worries.
“Don’t worry about me, Rose. This old body of mine can take quite a beating before it gives up. But,” he closed his eyes and gave up trying to soften what was to come, “I’m in for a rough time of it for the next few days, until I can heal from the Vortex. And so are you. What you did, what we both did… that kind of thing causes ripples, creates other problems. It’s basic physics, that energy is never destroyed, just transformed. It’s going to come back to haunt us for some time. I’ve set the TARDIS to take us somewhere safe, but….” His voice faded as the pain began to overwhelm him.
“Shh… it’s alright, Doctor. We can handle it. We can handle anything.” They were both kneeling now, next to the console. Rose’s arms circled loosely around his shoulders, ready to support him.
“I hope you’re right.” He gave up trying to be strong for her and let himself collapse into her arms with a final gasp, “Happy Christmas, Rose.”
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-26 02:58 am (UTC)Anyways I like your fic so far.