Title: Past
Rating: K+
Notes: This…turned out more stalker-ish than I had intended. But it works, so. I don't tend to think that the Doctor would do something like this, but it's sort of a whimsical what if.
Dedication: For the lovely people at timeandchips. And Jilly, of course!
He closed the door of the TARDIS and leaned against it for a moment before bounding across the control room with his usual energy and setting his ship in motion.
He needed to know everything he could about her. Why she was the way she was, where her father was, what schools she'd been to, why she'd dropped out, whether she'd had any pets, who her friends were…
Anything to persuade her to come with him, when he came back.
1986, January 9th. The day she was born.
He peered through the glass at the tiny baby. Tyler, Rose, the label on the cot proclaimed. A tiny baby with a wisp of hair and tiny fingers and toes, all wrapped up safe and warm.
There was nothing particularly distinctive about her. She looked pretty much like all the other infants in the cots.
"S'a great feeling," came a voice from behind him. "Becoming a father." The man stepped up to the glass. "That's my one," he said, pointing at Rose. "My little Rose."
The Doctor looked sideways at Rose's father. "Mm," he said neutrally.
"She's so tiny," Pete Tyler marvelled. "You never really know, do you? Then they're here…"
"Yeah." The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'd better go. Good luck with it, mate."
1990, September 4th. Her first day at school.
Jackie Tyler, younger and with smile lines instead of those caused by frowns, led her daughter into the playground by the hand. Rose was tall for her age, her blonde hair tied in plaits. She wore a blue skirt and a white top and looked, the Doctor would never admit to anyone but himself, adorable.
He was careful to keep out of sight – a strange man hanging around a school wasn't going to be looked kindly upon. He felt a little guilty – this was, technically, stalking – but shrugged it off. He knew he needed her to come with him.
He watched as she fell in the playground at break and grazed her knee; Jackie came running, hugging her daughter tight and stopping the tears. He smiled as Rose refused to have a plaster, instead running towards the climbing frame.
She was an adventurer. He'd known that from the moment he'd actually stopped to really think about her – in the lift of that shop. She'd rationalised it so well. He'd known, then.
Jackie and Rose left at lunchtime, and the Doctor got back into the TARDIS.
1994, February 2nd.
The Doctor stood unobtrusively at the back of the church. The place of worship was filled with people – family, friends, neighbours, and well-wishers. All coming to support Jackie and Pete as they buried their second-born. A son, Mark.
He shook his head and left. No parent should have to bury a child – ever. It was wrong and stupid and pointless. A pointless waste of life.
A small, blonde tornado burst out of the church. Rose, aged eight, crashed into him, her eyes too full of tears to perform their job. He caught her automatically, setting her on her feet.
"S-sorry," she sniffed, looking up at him.
"S'alright," he said softly. "Your Mum'll be worried about you, Rose."
"Why do people have to die?"
The Doctor gazed helplessly at the child. "I don't know."
Jackie left the church and gathered Rose into her arms. "Don't do that," she scolded, her voice choked. "C'mon, inside. You could've…anything could've happened…"
1995, June 5th. A few weeks after her father had gone.
Rose, nine years old, sat on a swing in the park, watching the other children play. He in turn watched her, from behind the newspaper he was pretending to read. Her knees were grazed and she had felt tip pen all over her right arm. She was trying not to cry at the sight of a five-year-old playing catch with his dad.
2002, June 22nd. The day Rose finished her GCSEs.
The Doctor watched, ensconced in a booth on the other side of the café, as Rose and her friends pigged out on chips and milkshakes.
She was practically sitting in the lap of a boy called Jimmy Stones. He was why she didn't continue to study, he remembered. Why she didn't do her A levels.
He didn't interfere, biting his tongue hard, as Jimmy's eyes went wandering towards Rose's best friend, Nadia.
2003, October 13th.
The Doctor was in the club the night Rose met Mickey. The stupid boyfriend bought her a drink and asked her to dance. Rose laughed and said yeah, sure, why not?
He wasn't jealous as the two danced, then kissed. Wasn't jealous when they met at the club again the night after, and then for a coffee the afternoon after that.
He sat in the TARDIS, thinking hard. He'd been wrong to go back and watch her grow up, he knew. But he didn't regret it. Because he knew how to tempt her now – knew how to get her to come. And she had to come. She had to. She was different to everyone else – to other humans, to his other companions even.
She was different. He didn't know how, but she was.
He touched the TARDIS console. "Well?" he asked softly. "Shall we have her?"
It was probably only in his imagination that the ship gave a slight rumble in reply. He grinned and stood up, hands reaching to the console. "Fantastic."
2005, ten seconds after he left.
He opened the door and leaned out. "By the way," he said conversationally. "Did I mention it also goes through time?"
She grinned at him and turned to Mickey. "Thanks," she told him.
"For what?" the idiot boyfriend asked.
"Exactly," she said, kissed him, and ran across the yard into the TARDIS.
"Right then," he said, grinning. "You tell me, Rose Tyler. Where d'you want to go? Forwards or backwards?"
Thoughts? Comments? Ridicules? Actually, I don't want that last one...