Mirrorverse by deathman

Summary: Mirrors and time go hand in hand.
Rating: Teen
Categories: Tenth Doctor
Characters: Original Companion, Other Character(s), Rose Tyler, The Doctor (10th)
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Explicit Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Deathman - Chronology, After the End
Published: 2007.02.13
Updated: 2007.03.26


Chapter 1: Mirror Rhyme
Chapter 2: Thoughts and Strange Happenings
Chapter 3: Reminders of Rose

Chapter 1: Mirror Rhyme

Mirrors and time go hand in hand
Leading away to a lonely land

Between the countless parallel spheres
The great dead space of the dark Void leers

To the Great Destroyer its existence owes
And what lurks in there, God only knows

Only mirrors hold the key to that place
The portal to that forbidding space

Time and colour and matter and light
And sound and atoms and black and white

Will splinter in an explosion of flame
And down on the Earth the Void will rain

And upon this planet shall descend
The Great Destroyer, chained at time's end

This will occur if you perform one crime -
Shatter the mirrors, and shatter time.


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Chapter 2: Thoughts and Strange Happenings

The Doctor grinned. ‘Yes.’ Jimbob smiled back, glad that the Doctor had taken his suggestion.

‘Though it’s completely impossible,’ the Doctor said. Before Jimbob could protest he continued. ‘But I like impossible.’

He lifted his head from the console and looked directly at Jimbob, in the eye. The ex-captain saw that the Doctor was traumatised beyond imagination, and filled with grief for the loss of his beloved Rose. But he was trying to be brave, for himself as much as for Jimbob.

‘Impossible’s good,’ replied Jimbob.

The Doctor wiped the last tears from his eyes.

‘I’m so glad I’ve got someone,’ he whispered. Jimbob didn’t really know how to respond to this, so he stayed awkwardly silent, waiting for the Doctor to say something else.

The Doctor shook this off with a wave of the head. ‘Sorry,’ he spoke. ‘We’ll start the gathering tomorrow.’

‘Gathering?’ Jimbob inquired.

The Doctor looked right at Jimbob again. ‘It’ll take more than two people to breach the barrier between this dimension and the Void beyond time. We’ll need all the help we can get from some of my old friends in order to get Rose back.’

‘Ah,’ Jimbob said simply, contenting himself with this piece of knowledge for now. He didn’t ask the Doctor about who his old friends might be, or, for that matter, anything further about their newfound quest.

There was another silence.

‘So,’ Jimbob spoke after a few seconds worth of quiet. ‘In the morning.’ He smiled to himself. ‘Is there a... um... bed?’

The Doctor remained quiet for a moment more. Then he spoke up with the pretence of cheerfulness. ‘Yes. Of course,’ he said.

He strode over to a door. ‘I’ll show you.’

Jimbob, seeing the Doctor was obviously very sad, hastily followed him down the corridor. Sensing he needed to be left alone.

Soon Jimbob was safely asleep, and the Doctor was left in the console room, to brood and think.

He faced the scanner darkly, his glasses on. Thinking hard. Remembering. All the good times he’d had with Rose.

He sat there, watching the blank screen, his eyes seeing things other than the glass and plastic. Slowly a tear began to slide its way out of the corner of his left eyelid.

He blinked it away, and, with a slow, resigned sigh, swung round in the pilot’s chair.

What he was faced with was shocking to say the least.

A cascade of whiteness, falling and spreading from a point a few metres ahead of the Doctor. He peered into the gloom of the sleeping TARDIS. He could make out that the cascade was a figure — a humanoid figure, brown hair falling down its back.

He made a small noise of incomprehension, and the figure turned around so that the Doctor could see its face. A woman. Pale skin, brown eyes, tight-lipped. Irritated. Dressed from head to toe in a wedding dress.

As the woman saw him, her expression changed from one of irritation to pure shock. She exclaimed, meaninglessly.

The Doctor took off his glasses. ‘What?’ he said.

‘Who are you?’ the woman asked. Loudly, slightly rudely.


‘WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLACE?’ she cried. Suddenly angry.

The Doctor just couldn’t grasp it. His mouth gawping, unable to make a sound. He peered forward with incredulity. ‘What?...’

TO BE CONTINUED IN ‘The Runaway Bride I — Holy Bride In White’...

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Chapter 3: Reminders of Rose

And then they were off. On a madcap romp across the Earth. So soon after the Doctor’s loss.

A bride. The first thing that crossed the Doctor’s mind when he saw Donna was that, typically, the universe was striving to hurt him and wound him as deep as possible. Of all the things that could have cast up on the TARDIS, it just HAD to be a bride, didn’t it? Weddings and love had obviously been on the Doctor’s mind, thinking of all the missed chances with Rose. He imagined her walking up the aisle, beautiful as ever, casting her warm smile up at him. His throat wobbled dangerously and several times he missed Donna’s enquiry about their whereabouts.

It didn’t help that Donna kept asking him about Rose. Jimbob, bless him, would always try and steer her gently away from the subject, but the bloody yapping Donna would continue, barking at him in her harsh London accent, tossing her hair emphatically, slapping him. He liked her, perhaps more than he should, but she could be such a bitch sometimes. Why couldn’t she just leave him in his hard little stinging shell, to mourn and rot away?

As soon as she entered the TARDIS her beady eye fell on Rose’s purple top, lying dustily upon a railing. ‘I NOO I’!’ shrieked Donna. ‘I’M NOT THE FIRST! HOW MANY WIMMIN ‘AV YOU ABDUCTED?!!’

‘That’s my friend,’ the Doctor said, struggling to fight the tears down, wishing to high heaven that the bride would shut the bloody hell up. But no, she just carried on, not sensing the tears, not sensing the pain that oozed from every piece of shattered heart inside his chest, every weak and pulsing pore. Maybe she intended it, to hurt him, just like the universe. Or maybe she was just thick as two short planks, which was the more likely in the Doctor’s opinion.

‘WELL, WHERE IS SHE?’ Donna bellowed. She gestured around, her eyes burning. ‘POPPED OUT FOR A SPACEWALK?’

In his consuming anger the Doctor was tempted to say, ‘No, she was sucked into a quasar at the end of time by a warlord of such power that your puny human ape-mind couldn’t begin to fathom it, not that you can fathom anything,’ or something along those lines. He almost did, but then he remembered something. He was the Doctor. It was his duty to help humanity, not insult it. And however hurtful Donna was, he knew she meant well. So he simply stared at her, forcefully, until she looked away slightly, and said gently, ‘I lost her.’ He went back to twiddling at the TARDIS console.


That was almost the final straw for the Doctor, but he managed to contain his rage. ‘Chiswick!’ he exclaimed instead, running around the console, flicking buttons, before dashing off to wake up Jimbob.

Robot Santas. He laughed inside his brain as the mechanical menaces advanced and Jimbob shot them down across the street. Again the universe’s doing. Reminding him of LAST Christmas. Maybe one of the happiest times he’d had in all his ten lives. He finally ‘did domestic’ with the girl he loved. The sheer simplicity of the festival. Crackers and happiness and Jackie’s roast turkey. Uggghhhh...

This reminded him of Rose’s whole family, Mickey included. He realised with a pang of sickness that they were still alive. All right, Mickey might be in a parallel universe along with Pete, but they cared about Rose almost as much as Jackie. They trusted him.

None of them knew that Rose was gone forever. Especially Jackie. What the hell would he do the next time she phoned Rose, asking her to come over. Oh, she wouldn’t just slap him. She would kill him, bury him, dig him up and possibly kill him again.

Technically it wasn’t his fault that Rose had been sucked into the Final Quasar, it was the Dark One’s. A rush of rage swelled from his heart as he remembered that terrible emotionless face, that flaming sword, the growling, purring voice.

But Jackie Tyler didn’t know about the Dark One or the Final Quasar. She would blame HIM.

His heart hammered at this prospect. But the Robot Santas were currently more of a threat to his life. Remembering this, he dashed over to the cash machine, pointed his sonic screwdriver at it and aimed. Money rushed out in a torrent of flicking, flying paper and the crowds went wild.

Jimbob and Donna sat in the taxi, gazing helplessly through the window at him. The smoking, limp robot in the front seat had a tight, steel-like grip on the steering wheel and was driving them away. The TARDIS groaned and hissed beneath his feet and knew that it was growing exhausted. He didn’t have long.

‘Come on, trust me, just jump!’ cried the Doctor. Since Donna’s window was facing the TARDIS, Jimbob couldn’t jump until she had. It was all down to her.

‘IS THAT WOT YOU SAID T’ HER?’ Donna yelled back, the ferocious wind whipping her words away. The Doctor leaned his head forward, having not quite heard Donna’s question, but dreading that it would be what he thought it had been. ‘THE ONE YOU LOST? DID SHE TRUST YOU?’

And this time the Doctor couldn’t resist just biting back slightly, denying Donna’s challenge. Quite truthfully, his eyes glowing as he remembered Rose’s child-like faith in him. He remembered her love, and knew then that she was not lost. That part of her would always live on in him, whether he managed to rescue her from the Void or not.

‘Yes she did,’ the Doctor replied, softly, and his voice, although quiet, somehow managed to cut across the howling wind with ease. ‘And she is not dead. I’m going to get her back. Now JUMP!’

And Donna jumped.

The reception of the wedding. Dancing, music, lights and vibrant colour. Everyone happy and together, whirling and spinning and clutching under a beautiful song.

Well I’ve roamed about this Earth
With just a suitcase in my hand
And I’ve met some bog-eyed Joes
I’ve met the blessed, I’ve met the damned
But of all the strange, strange creatures
In the air, at sea, on land
Oh my girl, my girl, my precious girl
I love you, you understand...

The Doctor, a lone figure leaning against a table, listened closely to the lyrics, and cursed again. Bloody universe. Again it was trying to remind him of Rose, and succeeding. He felt tears prick at the edges of his eyes behind the thick glasses.

The song continued.

So reel me in, my precious girl
Oh come on, take me home
‘Cause my body’s tired of tramping
And my heart don’t wish to roam...

Why couldn’t his precious girl reel him in? The song had got inside his head in the worst way possible, and was echoing his very thoughts. His body was indeed tired of tramping and he wanted above all other things to forget the TARDIS, forget Donna, forget the Robot Santas and just feel Rose’s soothing arms around him, to be loved. But no, he was always alone. Doomed.

I have wandered, I have rambled
I have crossed this crowded sphere
And I’ve seen a mass of problems
That I long to disappear
Now all I have’s this anguished heart
For you have vanished too
Oh my girl, my girl, my precious girl
Just what is this man to do?...

The Doctor’s eyes roamed around the dancing human crowd, trying to be happy for them, to try and distract them from the sickening, throat tearing pain that was welling up in his own heart.

Yeah, reel me in, my precious girl
Oh come on, take me home
‘Cause my body’s tired of tramping
And my heart don’t wish to roam...

As he looked upon the throng of swinging bodies, he saw Donna and Lance, dancing happily together. As Lance dipped Donna and the bride shrieked in delight, the Doctor was transported back in time, to his ninth incarnation. He saw himself swing and dip Rose in much the same way as Lance had with Donna, and felt a stab of envy. His ninth self had never experienced the pain of losing Rose in the same way as he had. He had never had his hearts shattered.

Oh, you took me in, you stole my heart,
I cannot roam no more
Because love, it stays within you
It doesn’t wash up on a shore
And a fighting man forgets each cut
Each nock, each bruise, each fall
But a fighting man cannot forget
Why his love don’t roam no more...

The first tear trickled from the Doctor’s eye at this verse and he saw another happy couple, the man raising his woman up for a gentle kiss. The Doctor remembered the time on the Impossible Planet, near the lift shaft. Rose leaning up, placing her warm hands on either side of his space helmet, placing a small wet kiss on the clear glass. His hearts tugged at their ribcages. He wished with all his being that he had ripped off his helmet, kissed her back, forgetting all missions into the planet, forgetting all higher motives.

Yeah, walk with me, my love, my love
Walk tall, walk proud, walk far
For you are my love, you are, you are,
You are my shining star
You are — yeah!!...

The Doctor let himself bathe in memory for a moment more. Then he took off his glasses, wiped his eyes, and spotted a cameraman nearby. He strolled over.

Letting himself become the action hero again.

But even action heroes have emotions.

The Racnoss Empress loomed below the Doctor’s balcony, a threatening shape, her many eyes glowing with malicious glee, her long clawed legs clicking and clattering on the steel floor, her head tossing and lashing and hissing. ‘My children shall dine on Martian flesh!’

The Doctor gazed hard into the insane bulk of the gigantic spider. ‘I’m not from Mars.’

‘Then... WHERE?’ growled the Empress, swinging her head challengingly round to face him, her jagged fangs glinting like swords in the sunlight.

‘My planet is far away and long since gone,’ the Doctor replied, quite calmly, facing this monster without fear. ‘But its name lives on. Gallifrey.’

Suddenly, the Empress transformed. She was a vicious spitting ball of slashing claws and feral stinking breath. ‘THEY MURDERED THE RACNOSS!’

And the baubles flashed into the Doctor’s hands. ‘I did warn you,’ he said. Coldly. ‘You did this.’

The baubles lifted into the air before spinning away, through the Empress’s screams of anger and despair, into the pipes and endless walls that kept the ravenous expanse of the Thames at bay. Water thundered down the corridors of Torchwood’s secret floor, completely obliterating everything in its path. The writhing, frothing slipstreams of furious liquid swept down the vertical passage to the centre of the Earth, drowning the Racnoss children and crushing them back into the deep, swelling and squirming around the legs of the Empress.

And as the Doctor, Jimbob and Donna scrambled away up the ladder, the Empress yelled at them. ‘YOUR TIME WILL COME, DOCTOR. THE DAY WHEN THE CATACLYSM COMES AND A GREAT EVIL WILL CRASH INTO THE WORLD!’

Then the spider teleported away to her doom.

The Doctor and Donna faced each other for the final time, smiling, all anger and irritation gone away, swept without fulfillment into the swirling snow.

And the Doctor finally answered the question Donna had been badgering him with.

‘Your friend. Who was she?’

The Doctor smiled tearfully, his voice wet and about to break down. ‘Her name was Rose.’

And the TARDIS faded away into nothing.


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