Finding His Reason

Chapter 11 - The Empty Child

It was the sound of the engine that woke him. He didn't want to be awake, not here, and certainly not now. He had felt close, so close to the answers that eluded him for so long. Two years of his life were just. . . gone. Ripped away from him by The Agency. He had been an agent once, a damned good one from what he could remember. Jack shook his head and sighed as he stood from the chair and stretched as much as the small cabin would allow. Either he had seen something he shouldn't have, or done something really bad. If only he could just remember it. . .

"There is a spatial rift close by. Adjusting course to avoid."

"No!" Jack overrode the autopilot as he moved back into the chair. "Where is the spatial rift coming from?"

The voice interface was silent as the computer worked to identify the origin, a soft trilling beep sounding in the background. He waited as he looked down at the readout on the screen, but the information was useless. One moment it said the rift was there, and the next it said it wasn't. The information was contradicting itself, folding over one answer with another, before the answer changed and changed again.

"A time agent," Jack whispered to himself as his full lips quirked up at the side. "About time one of you crossed my path. But what the hell is with this signature? It's not the standard Time Agency vehicle."

He looked back at the small cargo door, the one part of the ship that was hidden inside some kind of alternate dimension. He knew the basics of it, understood the mathematics and theories, but there were times when he found everything around him to be a little too unbelievable. It was all the time he was spending in early twentieth century Earth where time travel was nothing but stories and fantasies. It was a simpler time, more romantic, and there was a part of Jack that wished he had been born in that era instead.

The pressed uniforms, and the way people looked at a military man. There was respect, a code of behavior. He didn't have to flash the psychic paper he kept in his pocket. Hell, most of the time, all he had to do was tip his head and smile. Charming someone had always been an easy thing for him, but respect? The respect he was given when he dressed in the Army clothes was something he couldn't remember from his time in The Agency.

"Well, beautiful?" Jack asked the ship and laughed when the voice interface failed to respond. "I think it's time we had a little fun, don't you?"

"Logs show the last time 'fun' was mentioned, the engine failed and the outer hull was breached."

His lips turned up at the corner, before he threw his head back and laughed. That had been a fun night. Being chased by one man for sleeping with his wife, only to be protected by another, and then chased by both. He shook his head as he grinned and punched the commands into console. Tarkaylian Whiskey. It was a good drink, smooth going down and tasted strangely like honeysuckle. He loved that drink, but it was also the same thing that got him into trouble time and time again.

'Float like a butterfly,' Jack thought as he slipped into the spatial rift and dodged ahead of the energy reading for the odd ship. 'Sting like a bee,' he chuckled as he dropped the Chula ambulance in their path. 'Dance around them a bit now, and. . . .yes!' He laughed as he remembered the iconic fight, the one he had gone back to watch at least five times, before it became too dangerous to repeat the time jump. Jack worked the console quickly, cloaking his ship, before speeding in front of the one he was chasing and dragging the Chula ship along behind.

"Alright, a few more buttons and. . . Ha! Try and outrun it before it lands!" he challenged with a laugh as the simple ship moved along under its own power.

He followed close behind, riding the wave next to it and shielded by his cloak. He broke through the atmosphere in the same moment, the sonic boom coinciding with the bombs dropping to the earth below. No matter which time he went to, or the planet he chose to visit, the wars never ceased to amaze him. It didn't matter what race or species it was, people would kill each other for the sheer hell of it.

All he had to do now was wait for those following to be lured in. Time slips were funny that way, they traveled the same path, but they could arrive tomorrow or thirty years from now. He hoped it was sooner rather than later, but one could never predict these things. Ah, but the uniforms. Jack smiled as he parked the space ship next to Big Ben and reduced it to auxiliary power. He leaned back in the chair and watched the flashes of light over the night sky. He'd wait a few more hours, just until dawn, if they didn't show up by then, he'd play soldier and wait.

::::::::

"Captain Jack Harkness, American Volunteer," he said as he held up the psychic paper and smiled. "You alright, honey?" he asked with a devastating grin as the woman behind the desk fell limply into the folding chair.

"Maybe if you say 'er name," the girl standing beside the filing cabinet said, her cockney accent charming.

Jack arched a brow and grinned as he leaned forward and looked down at the nametag on the silent woman's uniform. He chuckled as he read the name twice, and then a third time for good measure. His smile widened as he stood back, and then turned to lean against the high desk on his elbow, looking for all the world as though he owned the place. He closed his eyes for a moment before he turned his head and opened his blue eyes slowly.

"Tell me, Sugar Water, is that your real name?" he asked her in a slow drawl, his gaze disarming her as she slid forward in the metal chair and whimpered.

"N-no," she stammered much to her coworker's amusement. "Me da's from India and me mum's from the Highlands. No one 'round here can pronounce my real name, and. . . " She licked her lips as she met his smoldering gaze. "Jenna," she nodded to the girl by the filing cabinet, "called me it one day in the office, and everyone else started to after that. It stuck, I guess."

"Hmm," Jack hummed as he turned back to look around the office and smiled when he found a man with dark blond hair to be studying him. "Who's he?"

He watched the man jump back and blush when he realized he'd been caught staring, Jack's easy laughter disarming him further. Things around here could prove interesting, he thought with a smile. It never hurt to have a little fun while waiting for a mark to come in. Besides, he thought as he looked back at the woman behind the desk, then glanced forward to the empty spot where the man had been, it had been a bit too long since he had last had a bedfellow. If he played his cards right, he could have two before the day was done.

He took the papers he needed from the girl and nodded when she directed him to the war room. He was higher rank than most around here, but he was also American. There were a few scattered about, and where others had seemed gruff and built to impress, he was different. The woman placed a hand to her chest as she watched him walk away, cursing his long black coat for hiding the ass of the man she longed to see. She gasped when he looked back at her and winked, her heart thundering inside her chest at the idea he'd read her thoughts.

"Hey, Sugar?" Jack said as he stopped and looked at her from an angle. "You wouldn't mind joining me for a drink later, would you? Since I don't know anyone. . . "

"I'd love to drink you!" she interrupted him, her face flaming when she realized what she'd said and stammered to correct herself. "I meant do you." Her face reddened further as Jenna broke down into giggles behind her. "I meant . . . Blimey, you know what I meant!"

Jack laughed as he tipped his head and smiled wide. "Sure do, Suga'," he said, adding a touch of a southern accent to his words. "See you at eight, then," he told her with a wink. "Jenna," he nodded to her before turning away.

He smiled as he walked down the hall, his thoughts centered around the plans he was making for that evening. He was almost certain he could have both women in his bed before the sun went down, though part of him suspected that Jenna was more interested in Sugar than she was in him. It certainly would be fun, he thought with a chuckle as he looked around. Now, to find that man. . .

"Man-whore."

The whispered memory of the last conversation he'd had with his only true close friend echoed in his mind and he laughed silently. Sean did enjoy calling him that, and Jack, he shook his head as he chuckled, he never had been one to deny the truth. He was a man-whore, and he wasn't a damn bit ashamed of it either. His smile fell to a whispered grin as the longing of a near-forgotten memory cycled through his mind. He'd lost his brother before he'd even learned how to stand on his own in the world, and felt in some way as though he had constantly been searching for a way to get him back, a way to find him again. But his brother was dead, and no miracle - not even time travel - could bring him back.

Jack looked up at the stars as he shook his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. Why then, did it feel as though he was about to find everything he'd been searching for? He could feel the electricity crackling in the air around him, the silent promise of possibilities and something just beyond his grasp - something. . . fantastic. This time would be different. He smiled as he nodded at his own thoughts. This time, he could stop running from his past and start running toward his future. Something was about to change, and he felt impatient for it to begin.

::::::

Rose Tyler, how daft can you be? Rose cursed herself as she tightened her grip on the rope. The rough fibers chafed against her skin, burned her hands and cut her flesh. She didn't know when they were, but it had obviously been in Earth's history, and not its future. She trembled as she clung to the rope, and cried out when she felt her grip slip, her muscles aching with the effort to hold on. There had been a child standing on a rooftop, his face covered by a gas mask, and what had she done? She had climbed a rope hanging out of the sky without even looking to see what the rope was attached to.

Would she die? Rose wondered as she looked at the ground below, only to scream in alarm when dozens of fighter planes flew past her, a few close enough she was certain she could touch them if she tried. Would The Doctor find her body lying in the street somewhere? Would he know what happened to her?

"Stop it," she chastised herself and did what she could to tighten her grip on the rope.

Her palms were too sweaty, her muscles too tired, and before she could try to regain her hold on the rope, she fell. She screamed as the air rushed past her, as the ground rose to meet her, only to stop and be held in mid air. She had never seen a light field like the one that surrounded her, and every second that she hung suspended made her terror grow. A man's voice sounded around her, his tone flirting even as he tried to assure her that everything would be alright. Her hands trembled as she turned off her mobile phone, and she snapped back at him in fear and frustration.

"Oh yeah, that's a real load off, that is! I'm hanging in the sky in the middle of a German air-raid, with the Union Jack across my chest, but hey, my mobile phone's off!"

He laughed back at her, as he told her to hold on, and grinned as he watched her through the window. His ship confirmed what he already knew, this girl wasn't from this time period. Had she been the time agent he had been waiting for? With one flip of a switch, he held her in his arms and smiled down at the girl who looked to still be scared out of her mind.

"I've got you. You're fine. You're just fine," Jack said as he held her close, and felt the frantic staccato of her heartbeat as he waited for her to calm. "The tractor beam, it can scramble your head a little."

She turned her attention to him, and he watched her eyes roam up his chest to meet his gaze.

"Hello," Rose said breathlessly as she stared at him with wide eyes, a delicate blush rising to color her cheeks.

"Hello," he returned with a grin, and trailed his eyes over her form, appreciating the feel of her in his arms.

"Hello," Rose said again, her blush darkening. "Sorry, that was hello twice there. Dull, but you know, thorough.".

Jack chuckled as he watched the expression on her face, waiting for what he knew would happen.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he studied her eyes, and listened to the rhythm of her breathing.

"Fine," Rose said as Jack set her on her feet. "Why, are you expecting me to faint or something?"

"You look a little dizzy," Jack told her as he stayed close to her, waiting to catch her if she fell.

"What about you?" Rose asked with an unsteady laugh. "You're not even in focus."

Jack gave a breathy laugh and caught Rose as she fell, listing her into his arms easily as he stepped toward the bunk behind her. It didn't matter how familiar one was with a tractor beam, regardless of the technology's origin, they always fainted. She was beautiful, he thought as he looked down on her and made certain she was comfortable.

"My lucky day, a girl like you would fall out of the sky," he mused as he sat next to her on the cot.

She looked young, but age wasn't always easy for him to estimate, especially with a female. He had thought his Trilaxian lover had looked young, too, only to be surprised when she confessed to being three hundred and seven years old. He grinned as he stood and moved back to the command chair. He never had asked her how long her species lived for. For all he knew, she truly could have been young by their standards.

He sat back and looked toward the cot, the angle of his observation limiting him as to what he could see of the girl. All he could do now was wait. Some woke in only moments, other in hours, it just depended their prior exposure to and experience with tractor beams. Who was she, he wondered. What was her story?

::::::

He could feel it burning in the back of his mind, the incessant anger from the TARDIS. The roar of the planes above, the sound of the air raid sirens, and the whistle of the bombs falling through the sky served to enrage his beautiful ship. There had been plenty of other war torn worlds that they had found themselves in before, but not once could he remember the anger he felt from the TARDIS now. She was furious with him for losing Rose. This wasn't the first time he had felt the protective, almost maternal, relationship his ship had developed with Rose, but it was the strongest.

How many times had he told Rose not to wander off? He had thought she was right behind him, until he had watched the others flee the building at the first sound of the sirens. She was missing from him, and while he believed in some part that she was perfectly fine, it was the anger he felt from the TARDIS that made him doubtful. Of all the places that they could have found themselves in, it was London during the middle of World War II. He winced at the feel of the push against his mind, and was thankful for the distance he was from the TARDIS. Had he been closer, he was certain the nudge she had given him would have been closer to a full on telepathic slap.

'Wait, Old Girl,' he thought and turned down the street as he followed the scent of the girl he had met in the alley near his TARDIS almost a half hour prior. 'Whatever this mystery is, I'm certain it will lead me to Rose.'

He sighed in relief as the feel of the dull pounding in his head faded until it was barely noticeable. He was too far from the TARDIS for her to answer him back with words, but he could still feel her emotions. Other Time Lords of the past had talked of their TARDIS' as little more than a sentient vessel, a ship that could protect itself if needed. His beautiful ship could talk to him, communicate on a level that was intelligent, emotional, and deeply personal. It had made him wonder more than once why he and his TARDIS were so different. Were they both defective, or were they something more?

"This way!" he heard a boy hiss, the child's voice kept low as he issued the command to his friend. "Nancy's found us a meal. We'll be warm and dry for a bit."

The Doctor arched his brow as he watched the children, his thoughts centered around the faint, but familiar scent. Nancy must be the name of the girl he had met, it was her scent that permeated the air. He kept a good distance from them as he followed the children down the street. He wanted to know more about the bomb that wasn't a bomb, and more about the voice on the other end of the phone. Nancy, he knew, would have the answer to both.

'Humans.' he thought with a silent chuckle, his mouth pulled up at the side in amusement. Not one of the children noticed him enter the house, and no one noticed him sit down at the table, either. It wasn't until he was handed the plate of meat, and spoke his thanks, that his presence was acknowledged. Nancy calmed the children quickly, her tone that of a mother, and The Doctor found himself once more perplexed by her. Who was this girl, this woman, who knew more than she told? And why did he know that she held the answers he needed?

The TARDIS fairly growled as she waited for her Time Lord to be close enough for her to talk to once more. Rose was missing, and instead of seeking her out, he was following around a group of strays. She had felt Rose's fear, her panic, and then her silence. Rose had been too far away for her to know what had happened, or to find her. Even if she could fly on her own without The Doctor, or anyone else at her helm, she wouldn't have been able to go to Rose. She was limited in her controls, and once she was parked, she couldn't fly on her own even if she wanted to.

Worry drove her, anger pushed her, and in the moment that she was gathering her strength to send another telepathic nudge to The Doctor, she felt the whisper of another. The TARDIS focused on the feel of the mind, the energy so light, so delicate, that she could barely grasp it. She pulled away from The Doctor, abandoning him as she gathered her strength and focused every last cell of her being on this familiar mind.

"Rose?" the TARDIS spoke, and felt the new energy reach out to her.

'TARDIS?' Rose responded, her voice weak and slurred.

She was asleep, the TARDIS thought as relief passed through her and chased her anger and fear away. That was perhaps the only reason Rose was able to communicate with her at all. She had always known that Rose had telepathic abilities, though the strength and depth of them remained unknown. The TARDIS smiled as she brushed against Rose's mind and soothed the girl's worry as she took solace in the connection. Wherever Rose was, she was alright. Safe to some extent, and as far as the TARDIS could tell, unharmed.

"Come on, Rose," the TARDIS prodded her mind gently. "Wake for me."

'Wake?' Rose questioned, the word half formed as she pushed against the comforting feel of the TARDIS like a child curling up to their mother.

"You're asleep, Rose," the TARDIS told her and sighed. "I'm sorry, this might hurt a bit."

The TARDIS pushed against Rose's mind with all her might, the force of the nudge creating a telepathic slap that roused the girl. In the instant that she woke, the connection the TARDIS had was severed, and the ship mourned the loss of her human's mind. She could still feel Rose's emotions, but the connection had grown weaker until there was barely anything there. She would wait as long as she had to for her travelers to return to her, but so help The Doctor if Rose was injured in any manner.

:::::::

It wasn't the first time Jack had noticed her nervousness, the way she would back away ever so slightly when he got just a touch too close to her. Rose was a mystery to him, beautiful and guarded even as she remained somehow carefree. There was something there in the background, something that made him want to check his psychic paper to see if it had picked up on. He had danced with her, told her about the Chula warship, the con. He had reeled her in like a fish on a hook, and yet there was a part of him that was starting to regret his role in deceiving her. She was just another Time Agent, he told himself as he walked with her down the street, following the readings on his wristband that indicated alien tech.

There's something more there, something deeper, he thought as he watched her and waited for her to speak. She didn't though, and he narrowed his eyes in curiosity as he watched her walk silently beside him. She answered any questions he put before her, but she wouldn't offer up any information on her own. What secret was she guarding?

Stop it, Rose berated herself as she reminded herself repeatedly not to look at Jack. He intrigued her, fascinated her. The brief moments of being held in his arms as they danced to Glenn Miller had made her forget the one thing she must never forget. She shook her head as she turned her attention to the man at her side and asked him to repeat his question. Her brows furrowed when he asked her about 'Mr. Spock' and she was seconds away from asking him who he was talking about when it occurred to her that it was the name she had given The Doctor.

The more he questioned her, the more Rose began to see that Jack believed her to be in a relationship with The Doctor, something far more intimate than what they had. She laughed at the thought of it, a part of her delighting in the idea of a romance with The Doctor, while another part of her mocked her for the thought. Had her past taught her nothing? There was a reason she was with Mickey, though she had to admit that it wasn't fair to him in the least. He didn't ignite her passion, didn't stir her thoughts, or make her feel in any way lustful. He was safe. But The Doctor, and now Jack? These two men were dangerous, if only because they could make her forget the darkness of her life before, and make her want for something far more than she deserved.

Jack waited for the moment to present itself, and smiled when Rose turned away to look at a passing military vehicle. The movement was quick and seamless as he reached his hand into her jacket and slipped his psychic paper inside. He moved his hand away before she noticed and gave her his best smile when she turned to look at him. Jack delighted in the blush on her cheeks, the light in her eyes that bespoke of how affected she was by him. There was a whisper in the back of his mind, a promise of something more, and he knew in that moment that he wouldn't try to bed her, no matter how much he may find her attractive.

Amusement and curiosity filtered to her from Rose, and the TARDIS reached out as best she could to strengthen the connection she had with her human companion. There was someone new with Rose, someone . . . familiar. Whoever this new person was, the TARDIS knew that he was the correct fit. He was someone that she had been waiting for.

"Bring him to me, Rose," the TARDIS thought as she studied the emotions she felt from Rose. "Something is about to change, and it will be exactly what you both need."

Rose looked up at the looming building with hesitation. This place was a hospital, but even now it looked like somewhere that would be overrun with ghosts and goblins when they stepped inside, not a place that would actually house the living. She turned too quickly, slamming into Jack, and blushed at the way his arm wrapped instinctively around her back. The fire was there once more, the delicious tremors that spoke of her attraction to him, and she closed her eyes as she wished for her hormones to calm.

This was the same feeling she often had around The Doctor, though her desire for the Time Lord was more of a slow, delicious burn. How many times had she imagined him kissing her, or her pushing him down to the jump seat in order to kiss him? Wasn't this the reason she had tried to distract herself by bringing Adam on board? How many nights had she woken from dreams of making love to The Doctor, dreams so intense they felt real? And now, here she was with a man that made her think about being pushed up against a wall and kissed passionately. This was not good, she thought as she took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

She didn't feel Jack's hand in her coat pocket, or see him holding his psychic paper as she turned toward the heavy doors the guarded the entrance to the hospital. Jack flipped open the psychic paper behind his back as he held the door open and bid Rose to enter ahead of him. He brought his hand forth as she walked into the building and looked down at the paper. His eyes widened, a grin growing into a wide smile as he chuckled. It was very rare for psychic paper to pick up images, but when it did it meant that the person's thoughts were very strong toward the focus of their distraction. The images he viewed now were both intimate and amusing, a desire she held that she was trying to make herself forget.

"He's a lucky man, Rose," he whispered under his breath as he followed her inside, and let the door close behind him. "Whoever this 'Doctor' is, he's a lucky man."

"You got a map of this place?" Rose asked as she stepped forward only to stumble and hiss when she banged her shin against a heavy oak chair.

"Here," Jack said as he pressed a few buttons on the keypad of his wristband.

A bright white light illuminated the dusty halls ahead of them, and he held his wrist out as he scanned the wide open area in front of them. Gurneys, tables, and chairs had been left out in a haphazard fashion as though everyone had abandoned the hospital in a hurry. He nodded to Rose, gesturing for her to follow him as he studied the readout on his scanner. Her companion looked to be two floors up, and in the wing opposite to where they stood.

"Stay close," he warned Rose, and led the way through the building.

:::::::

The Doctor looked behind him as he stepped into the room, his brows furrowed at the abandoned halls and empty nurse's stations. There was no one in the building, yet Nancy had told him that the doctor was here. He walked up one flight out stairs, and down another long hall, wheelchairs and IV stands left unattended. It was a scene from a story he thought, one of those twenty-first century human fictions where people simply vanished into thin air and the only sign of their presence was what had been left behind.

He came to a stop as he entered one long corridor and frowned in confusion to see patients lying in beds, twelve along each wall. Each person was lying still as death in the bed, a gas mask on their face, and he couldn't help but wonder as to the point of it. If they truly were dead as they appeared to be, what good would a gas mask do them? He didn't stop to examine any of them as he walked through the ward and out into another hall. Whoever the man was, the doctor Nancy had sent him to talk to, he needed to speak to him and get answers to what was happening.

The Doctor turned down one hall and then another, finding himself in another ward with beds lining the walls. Each bed was occupied, and just the same, each patient wore a gas mask. He couldn't understand why they would be left unattended, or how there could be so many bodies in the wards, each with no visible sign of decay. He turned toward another hall, the sign hanging above at the end of the hall marking another ward. He frowned as he stared at it, the sign swinging slowly, the movement more than anything the stillness of the hall would allow for. There was no wind, no fan or air conditioning blowing. whatever had set the sign in motion was a person, and that meant the doctor he needed to look for should be just ahead.

He walked into the room and looked around at the beds lining the walls, shaking his head as he tried to understand. There was an older man sitting in the center of the room by a table, the only person who appeared to be unaffected by whatever had happened to the people left alone. He was sick, The Doctor noticed and watched as the man fell back to sit in the chair, his breathing hampered by a coughing fit. He frowned when Dr. Constantine caught his breath.

"You're very sick," The Doctor noted with concern.

"Dying, I should think," Dr. Constantine replied, amusement in his voice. "I just haven't been able to find the time. Are you a doctor?"

"I have my moments," The Doctor said, and looked around at the occupied beds lining the walls.

"Have you examined any of them yet?"

"No." The Doctor watched the man's face, his expression at once both amused and resigned, as though whatever had happened was beyond explanation or reason.

"Don't touch the flesh," Dr. Constantine warned him, and The Doctor arched a brow.

"Which one?"

"Any one."

The Doctor moved to the nearest bed as he withdrew his sonic screwdriver and set it for a medical exam. The injuries on the person were extensive, a collapsed chest, massive head trauma, asphyxiation. The oddest part of it all was the gas mask. It was fused to the person's face, but there were no burn marks, no trauma or melting. He ran a second scan closer to the mask, as close as he dared without touching the patient. The sonic couldn't distinguish between the flesh and the mask at the seam, the cellular structure for both so close it was almost identical.

He scanned a second and a third patient at Constantine's insistence, his confusion furthering to find that they all shared identical injuries. He turned from the bed, talked with Dr. Constantine, and debated the cause of death only to be confounded once again. Dr. Constantine banged his cane against the table leg, the walking stick bouncing off a metal trashcan. As though a switch had been flipped, each patient sat up at the same time, and The Doctor jumped back. They didn't speak a word, or make a noise, they simply sat there staring at nothing, doing nothing.

This was wrong. So very very wrong. The Doctor turned back to look at the man, listening as he spoke further about the patients, the hospital, the transformations. There was no way of stopping it, no way of sorting it out, or making sense of what had happened. All that he could tell The Doctor was how it started. Nancy's brother. It all came back to Nancy, and she was running from this as far and as fast as she could, atoning for a sin that had never been hers in the first place. He froze in place, staring in horrified fascination as Dr. Constantine changed, his words falling to the simple phrase he heard so many times before over the phone and through speaker grilles. Then came the change, his mouth expanding as a gas mask was forced out and The Doctor finally understood.

The gas mask wasn't fused to their skin, the gas mask was their skin. Their DNA was being rewritten. He stilled as he looked at the man turned monster and his eyes widened. Was this why he couldn't find Rose? Had this happened to her? He felt rage burn behind his eyes, his twin hearts beating in an unsteady staccato as he feared the worst had happened to her. This, he would fix. And if Rose had been caught in the middle of it, so help whoever had started the mess.

He turned his head at the sound of voices in the hall, and felt a wave of relief crash over him to hear Rose's sweet alto. He turned away from the room and stepped outside, his expression unreadable. Rose was here, but so was a man, a rather pretty man. He looked to Rose, watching her as much as possible, while also keeping an eye on the new man with her. Jack Harkness, he sighed as he listened to the man speak, and saw the flush of Rose's cheeks.

"Mister Spock?" The Doctor repeated as he turned to Rose, his expression on of confusion.

"What was I supposed to say?" Rose asked him as she looked at him, and he wondered once more where she'd been. "You don't have a name. Don't you ever get tired of Doctor? Doctor Who?"

"Nine centuries in, I'm coping," he told her and breathed in of her scent as he walked next to her. She smelled normal enough, he thought, telling himself that he wasn't checking for scents of intimacy. "Where've you been? We're in the middle of a London Blitz. It's not a good time for a stroll."

"Who's strolling?" Rose said with an indrawn breath, feeling at once both invigorated and nervous. "I went by barrage balloon. Only way to see an air raid."

"What?!"

The Doctor wanted to take her aside, to check her over and assure himself that she was alright. His hearts raced at her words, the thought of her hanging from a barrage balloon while fighter planes raced around her, set him on edge. His mind filled with the possibilities of what could have happened, the number of ways she could have died, or he could have found her body. He shook himself from the thoughts a moment later, Rose's voice calling his attention with her mention of the alien vessel.

"Chula?"

The Doctor followed behind Rose as she followed Jack into the room he had come out of earlier. This had all started a month ago, the dead child coming back to life, the people changing into these things. He talked to Jack, laid out what was happening to the people and commanded the Time Agent to scan the bodies. This was not an accident, this was not something that would just go away. Jack argued against his involvement, stating that it wasn't his fault, and revealing to them what exactly they had followed into the Time Vortex.

It was space junk, just junk, Jack thought as he stood in a stare down with The Doctor, refusing to believe that he had any part in this. He hadn't done this. The ship was empty, he had made damn sure of that. He ground his teeth together as he looked at The Doctor and admitted to himself that he was more than a bit jealous. The images from the psychic paper earlier told him that this was the man Rose fancied, this was the man she loved, but couldn't have. Couldn't this Doctor see what was right in front of him? In a way, Jack wanted to take Rose from him, to be the one to show her the grand adventures, but instead of impressing her, he lashed out at them instead. He wouldn't be made to blame for something that he hadn't caused.

Rose jumped back with wide eyes as the patient sat up in the room. They moved as one, each turning and rising from their beds as they cried out for 'Mummy'. Rose moved closer to The Doctor, praying, hoping he would know what to do and how to stop this. It was like some kind of sick zombie stage play. She would gladly take the plastic people again over this. She shook her head as she looked to The Doctor for direction, for salvation.

"Don't let them touch you!" The Doctor warned as he looked at the people coming closer to them, and caught sight of Jack on the other side of Rose.

"What happens if they touch you?" Rose asked as she looked around with wide eyes.

"You're looking at it," The Doctor said, and had to admit the grudging respect he had for Jack in that moment. As long as Rose was protected, as long as she was kept safe, it didn't matter what happened to him.