Title: Phantom

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama

Rating: PG-13

Couple: Ten/Rose

Spoilers: Spoilers for season 2 through Doomsday

Summary: Hope. Simultaniously Humanity's greatest strength and greatest weakness. He might have said it was impossible, but he had also taught Rose not to believe in that word. Not even if it destroyed her. Post Doomsday.



Disclaimer: I don't own DW. I don't even slightly maybe partially have bragging rights to it like Sci Fi. I wouldn't be all evil and show AoG/DD back-to-back.

AN: This isn't actually a *new* idea of mine. It's an older idea I had that I could never flesh out very well, adapted for the purposes of DW. Got the idea randomly yesterday, and dunno how long it will end up--I'd guess only about 5 chapters.

One a side note--as its implied in DD, she does at least remember a small amount of her time as the Time Goddess/Bad Wolf/Vortex Lady

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Phantom

Chapter 1: Anniversary


The unshed tears, unspoken plaintives, were so thick in the air that the image of her Doctor nearly shimmered with it. She could hardly breathe with the effort of appearing strong and brave for him, the determination not to weep and beg for him to come back somehow.

"Am I ever going to see you again?"

He shook his head sadly, eyes shining with a sadness so deep she wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him close, to take his hand and promise everything would be okay again, like she had so many times before in his last life.

But...it wouldn't be. Not this time. Not ever again.

"You can't."



One year. The time had slipped through her fingers like water--she who once had the whole of time coursing through her veins, ready to bend to her every whim. But that was so long ago...that was while she was still alive, before she had been banished to far worse than simply the 'slow path'.

She sighed softly and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face as she looked down at the consol. Tomorrow was the anniversary, and it was driving her to distraction--the wistful, bad poetry kind of distraction. It probably wasn't healthy for her 'recovery', either, as her mother referred to her greiving.

She had watched everything...everything, but even with the aid of all of Torchwood's resources, she had not found even a faintly glimmering hope of seeing him again. Not like she really should have thought she could outsmart him...but maybe if they were working together from either side, they could find another way. There had to be a way. Impossible wasn't a word she was very familiar with anymore.

"Miss Tyler?" The voice of her aide broke through her musings rather abruptly, and she looked up from the monotonous readings of the rift's energy with an expression of surprise. The short, wiry man frowned, green eyes showing concern, as he leaned into the doorway. "We're shutting down, you know. The night shift is coming in."

"Oh, I'll stay a bit longer."

"With respect, don't you have a family meeting tonight?"

Oh yes. That. Her mother had set up a holiday to cover up what had happened, and pretend this world was something to celebrate. She frowned. Perhaps she was being too harsh on her mother...Jackie really was only trying to help.

She glanced at her watch. 10 o'clock. If she left now, she would make it in time to avoid any understanding lectures. If she were lucky, they would let her spend this evening reflecting on what she chose to, if she just made the toast.

But, she had to be here for Midnight. She had to be. Because it had been a year, and things like a universal resealing had to ripple. She'd missed the anniversary of her arrival, but she wouldn't miss this one. Because if she gave up now, it would mean finally giving in to the fact that she would really never see him again. And she would never do that. Never.

"Don't worry, I won't miss it." She said reassuringly.

The man looked unconvinced, but nodded. Before vanishing into the hallway again, he paused to say one more thing. "I hope you find whatever it is."

She nodded softly, and turned back to the readings. She didn't know what she would do when she actually saw the fluctuation, but she would know then.

--

Jackie Tyler frowned slightly as she looked over the party goers. Pete was entertaining the guests with his usual flair--being very accustomed to such parties from his original Jackie. Jake was trying his hardest to compete with Mickey for the attentions of a lovely young redhead.

Rose was nowhere to be found.

"Do ya think she was hung up with Torchwood work?" Mickey asked with a forced nonchalance, as he walked up to her.

"Maybe."

"Nothin we can do, then." He frowned. "Even Pete don't get into Torchwood without a guest pass."

"I know."

The dark skinned man glanced at a nearby clock wordlessly. Jackie didn't need to follow his gaze...she had looked five minutes ago. 1:30...the party was already starting to wind down, and Rose had not shown yet.

"She'll be okay." He said it with a confidence she almost envied.

She smiled softly as she turned toward him, unshed tears in her eyes. "No she won't, Mickey. She'll never be okay."

--

Torchwood was strangely peaceful at night, as it worked with a skeleton crew--most of them in the deeper levels, far away from his security clearance. He could whistle and hum and dance to whatever silent musical jam was echoing through his mind. Although...his boss often joked that if he ever sang along to it, his voice would set of the Alien Intruder alarms.

The lights in the corridors were at half-power, giving the white walls a blueish sheen, and most of the rooms were dark save for the occassional flashing monitor--whose readouts were probably being directed toward monitors deeper in anyway.

The odd camera decorated the halls as if in a reminder not to run about naked or take random lab samples from trays, but he had no doubt the visible ones weren't the only eyes watching his movements through the building--this whole place was far too much futuristic sci-fi for him.

His humming died in his throat as he heard an odd sort shuffling noise coming from the room ahead of him. His hands gripped the waste cart in front of him tightly as he slowly wheeled it forward, a sort of terrified curiousity pushing him relentlessly onward, though he would have liked to run in the opposite direction.

The doorway seemed to pivot itself to reveal more of the room with his every step--in that ponderous way only horror movies or old B-sci fis ever seemed to acheive. The lights were dimmed to almost dark, and a few screens blipped on and off along the walls. The room was almost exactly like any other room, with one exception.

Standing in the middle of the room, dark eyes on the strange monitor before her, pale skin mottled in the constantly shifting light of the bizzare readings of the machine, stood a woman so still he might have thought she were a statue, if not for the excess of tears streaming down her cheeks.

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AN: Well...how do ya think of it? I'd like to say such like Rose gets better in later chapters, but don't wanna spoil it just yet.