Chapter Text
“We have plans,” Jack said to the assembled group. He crossed his arms and looked expectantly at them.
“Everyone up to date on the latest?” Martha asked.
The Doctor and Rose were in their private lagoon. It was the only place Rose felt comfortable these days, so close to her (hopeful) due date. Swimming no doubt. He tried not to snicker but also refused to let his mind wander to what they actually did in their little water haven.
It distracted him.
“You had more plans before these?” Jenny asked, somewhat awed. But probably not impressed. More like shocked. People usually were. “How many plans do you have?”
“Currently?” Martha asked and squinted as she no doubt quickly ran through them.
“Four,” Jack supplied. “Currently we have four plans, one for each possible scenario now that we’re not traveling.”
“How many did you have before?” Donna wondered. “I know about the three you crossed out, the Worst Case Trapped on an Alien Planet Scenarios. What about before that?”
Martha shuddered. Jack grimaced.
“You don’t what to know,” he admitted.
They had one for being trapped in the past sans TARDIS or with a powered down TARDIS. Both of which already happened. Seriously, what were the odds of that happening again? But neither he nor Martha wanted to take that chance.
They had plans for an incapacitated Doctor or an incapacitated Martha or an incapacitated TARDIS.
Plans where they needed to deal (in a not-so-friendly-way) with UNIT or any other organization—Earth based or not—that wanted a Human-Gallifreyan baby.
Plans where things went horribly wrong…Jack shuddered again and swallowed reflexively. Thinking of those plans felt like a stab through the heart.
“And now?” Jenny asked, her clear voice piercing his thoughts. “We’re thinking of new plans?”
“It’s getting very close to Rose’s due date so it’s time to recheck the equipment,” Martha said.
“I’m not delivering their kid,” Donna protested.
“Not that,” Martha added quickly. Her lips curved upward and she shook her head. “No, either the Doctor or I are always with her and will be until she’s ready. No, what Jack means is the Back-up Plans.”
“You have more than one back-up plan as well?” Jenny tilted her head.
Damn, she really did look like Rose when she did that. Jack shook his head. They had other things to focus on besides how much of Rose’s DNA transferred from the Doctor’s hand into Jenny.
He knew the Doctor hadn’t scanned her, despite that particular lack of knowledge. He’d taken it on faith and hope. Yeah, hope. Jack liked hope.
“Martha and I have our sonics, Jenny did the Doctor finish yours?”
She proudly held hers up. “Yup,” she said and popped her p just like the Doctor. Jack wondered if that was a learned thing or a natural one.
“Just yesterday. He said he’d show me what the settings were for, but then…” she trailed off, frowned. Then grinned. “We got sidetracked talking about the differences between Old High Gallifreyan for parents and Modern Gallifreyan.”
“Oh the stimulating conversations you lot have,” Donna muttered.
“That’s for later,” Jack interrupted before they deviated on a tangent. “Focus. Now, Donna you have your mobile?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And why don’t I have a sonic?”
“Ah…” he faltered.
Because the Doctor didn’t exactly trust her with one. She’d never used his, hadn’t needed to. Had no idea how it worked, let alone was experienced enough to be trusted with one around Rose in labor.
“Because your job isn’t to use a sonic on Rose or anything else,” Martha said gently. “It’s to keep her calm and stay with her.”
Donna narrowed her eyes but nodded, still looking mistrustful. Jack swallowed. He did not want to be the one to tell her no one trusted her with a sonic.
“Dad gave me a mobile,” Jenny said and held hers up. “But I only know you, Grandma Francine, and Aunt Tish. Who else would I call?”
“Numbers are programed in according to necessity not alphabetically,” Jack said in his best military voice. “Francine first—she’ll get the word out.”
Each of them had their own phone tree to follow. And it wouldn’t surprise Jack one damn bit if they were all prepared with their own speed dialed message. Especially Francine, who continued to surprise him with her fierce protectiveness.
She definitely changed from the narrow-minded, protective mother who hated him, hated that Martha traveled with the Doctor, and mistrusted every last one of them. She was still protective, and still fiercely so, but she understood now.
Understood her middle daughter’s need to expand outside her small London neighborhood. Understood all Martha capable of, so much more than a mere doctor, Doctor Martha Jones was the eminent authority on alien biology.
And Francine accepted. All of them but especially him—or especially the fact Martha dated him, lived with him.
“After Francine, call Sarah Jane, then Alistair and Doris, then Harriet Jones. They each know what to do and will meet us at the rendezvous point.”
“Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister,” Jenny injected with a smile. “She’s very nice.”
Martha laughed. A musical sound he never tired of. “Yes, yes she is.”
He looked at her and everything in him softened. During their time together, he’d met others he was attracted to. Unlike every other relationship he ever had or ever played at having, Jack hadn’t done anything about that attraction. Martha meant more to him than a quick tumble.
Enough to start a family with? Yes.
Enough to ask her to start a family?
Jack swallowed. Wow. Oh wow. Yes. The answer was yes. Until he met Rose and the Doctor, he never thought about long term. Cons and getting back at the Time Agency and, if he was lucky, recovering his memories—sure.
Family? Relationships? Love? Not exactly on his to-do list.
He cleared his throat. Plans and contingencies first. Then a nice sit-down with Martha and a real discussion. Jack swallowed but the anticipatory butterflies never changed to dread and fear.
Huh.
“Isn’t the rendezvous point here?” Donna asked. “Isn’t it the TARDIS?”
“Yes,” Martha said quickly before Jack had the chance to launch into his elaborate plan for that, too. “But remember, this is the back-up contingency plans.”
“Now,” Jack said and cleared his throat. “Top In Case of Emergency numbers are as follows—Martha, me, Donna, Doctor.”
“Why is Dad last?” Jenny frowned. “And why isn’t Mum’s number on the list?”
“Because if it’s an emergency,” Donna said smoothly, “then something happened to Rose and the Doctor is either with her and taking care of her or incapacitated.”
“How will you get to them, then?” Jenny asked, looking around the group.
She looked apprehensive and Jack struggled for words to ease her fears.
The best he could do was hold out his arm to show Jenny his wristband. “Vortex manipulator. I can jump from wherever I am to where they are so long as one of their phones is on and with them.”
“You really did plan for everything didn’t you flyboy?” Donna asked.
“I’m confident we planned for all contingencies,” he agreed. “Meaning, of course, we can never plan for the Doctor.”
“So we’ve done our best to minimize variables,” Martha added in that same confident voice she used when ordering UNIT about.
Jack ran his hand down his face and admitted, “I’ve never been so grateful as when Rose announced they decided to stop traveling.”
Donna shuddered. “You didn’t see her on Messaline. I thought the Doctor was going to have a heart attack.” She paused. “Hearts.” She shuddered again. “It was awful.”
“I’m sorry I was the cause of that,” Jenny whispered. “I don’t want to ever hurt Mum.”
Donna squeezed her arm. “It wasn’t your fault, Jenny,” she said softly. “None of that was. And I know Rose—she wouldn’t have changed anything. You didn’t see her when that kid wanted to bury you there. When we thought you were…”
She trailed off, shook her head. Donna took a deep breath and said stronger but no less gently. “She’d have done anything for you. Still would. No matter how you came about, Rose is your mum. Noting will change that.”
The tension in Jenny’s shoulders eased and she nodded.
“Outside of the TARDIS,” Martha continued, “one of us stays with Rose at all times, even if the Doctor was with her, too.”
Jack agreed. “If the Doctor is away, and Martha’s at work, we have others who will always be with Rose. She’s not to be alone even if she’s napping in the TARDIS. Francine—” who approved of his many and varied plans—“has volunteered, as have Sarah Jane, Doris, and Harriet.”
Naturally they also all had his and Martha’s numbers on speed dial. And the Doctor’s. Jack didn’t know what Rose said to him to make him actually carry his mobile, but he did now. Everywhere.
Jenny nodded and he couldn’t decide if she took more after her dad or mum. So curious, always asking questions, absorbing knowledge.
Rose, he decided. She took after Rose.
“Martha?” he asked, forcing himself to stay on course. “Is the birthing room ready?”
“Check.” She gave him a cheeky grin and wink. “The TARDIS created the birthing pool according to my own specs,” she assured them. “I used current 21st century and 34th century dimensions and kept it in a room next to the med bay.”
She didn’t say—didn’t have to—that they needed to be close to the med bay just in case. This baby was the first Gallifreyan-Human child ever, so far as any of them knew. No sense taking chances they didn’t need to take.
“Excellent.” Jack nodded. Hoped those precautions weren’t necessary. “Donna, the baby’s room is finished?”
“Oh yes.” Donna nodded decisively. “All the furniture is put together and arranged to how Rose wanted it. The walls are painted and the floor is carpeted.” She stopped and frowned. “Why does the Doctor hate carpets? Like despise them more than…” she paused and finished, “pears.”
Jack sighed. “It’s a domestic thing with him.” He held up his hand. “Don’t ask. It’s better that way. He has a thing against walls, too.”
Donna deliberately looked around. They very clearly stood in a room with walls. “Walls?”
“Jenny,” he said, ignoring Donna’s obvious next question. He turned to Jenny and looked her in the eye. “It’s your job to plan the party for after.”
“Party?” she yelped. “I’ve never planned a patty! What do you mean, after?”
“We decided a week after the baby’s born to have a party,” Donna said, walls and carpets forgotten.
The party had been Donna’s idea and her idea to have Jenny plan it. So the other woman didn’t feel left out of her newfound family once the little addition came into this universe. Brilliant idea, if Jack did say so himself.
“We’ll invite everyone, have it here or at Francine’s,” Donna continued, “and give everyone a chance to see the newest Tyler.”
Jenny’s face flushed and her mouth opened in a little O. But no sound emerged. “A party.” She nodded slowly then more decisively. “Yes. Yes I like that idea.”
“Are we inviting your gramps and mum?” Martha asked.
Donna shifted uncomfortably. “Gramps, maybe,” she finally mumbled. “Not so sure about Mum. She wouldn’t understand.”
Jack nodded. “This life isn’t for everyone.” He clapped his hands, mentally reviewing his list. “Mobiles, soncis, places, times. I’m forgetting something. What am I forgetting?”
Martha sighed and slipped her hand around his arm, leaned her chin on his bicep. “The Doctor. No matter how good your plans are, love, you can never account for the Doctor.”
He laughed. “True.” Jack kissed her forehead, mind still racing. “Very true.”
He also couldn’t account for Time Ripples or disappearing stars. They didn’t just make him nervous. They scared the life out of him. Something was coming and it was entirely too nebulous to make him remotely comfortable.
It lurked and crept and slithered along. Something continued to morph over them.
The Doctor told him and Martha of Keisha’s observations about Jenny. Martha looked ashen—not only over worry and fear for her niece. Because she had dreams. Terrible dreams about burning cities—burning countries. And death. So much death they stopped counting.
His dreams involved dying. Always dying. And that frantic moment when he awoke, gasping for breath, mind scrambling to make sense out of what happened. He almost strangled Martha a few nights and so now slept on a couch the TARDIS provided for their room.
Jack dreamt of a man, tall, thin, utterly mad. A man who liked to torture him and kill him. Repeatedly.
He didn’t like being away from Martha but it was better he dreamt elsewhere. Jack hated that he hurt her, even if he hadn’t done it on purpose. Or known he did so at the time. But he was more afraid of doing so again—of not fully waking before Martha stopped him.
Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep.
He shuddered now, shoved the memories-dreams-nightmares aside. Swallowed bile. Gave himself another moment to collect his thoughts and persona. Martha squeezed his arm. She always saw right through him.
What if everything changed? None of them understood the Ripples, what they meant, where they originated. If they were portents of things to come or of changes already made…
Or worse.
And the stars. No matter what the Doctor scanned, who he consulted across the universe, no one had any answers.
Jack ran a hand over his face. One thing at a time. Rose’s labor. Then they could go back to worrying about the fate of the universe.
****
Rose kissed him, slow and languid. He tangled his fingers in her hair and angled his head to deepen the kiss, feel the heat of her mouth, the sweep of her tongue.
They bobbed in their private lagoon, completely cut off from the rest of the universe. Set off from the TARDIS’s main gardens, it remained hidden enough that the rest of their family couldn’t find it no matter how they looked.
Unless of an emergency.
The Doctor promised Jack to keep the intercom system permanently activated. Jack’s constant worry about Rose and the baby was eclipsed only by his own.
“Rose,” he sighed against her skin, wet and slick from the water and earlier when they made love.
She smiled, beautiful and human and fertile and so very Rose. The Doctor slid his hands over her naked belly, lush and heavy with his unborn daughter. Said daughter kicked and rolled against his fingers and the Doctor pulled back, grinning widely.
“I think she’s almost ready,” he whispered.
Rose caught his gaze and rested her hands over his. “I can’t wait to meet her,” she agreed. Then grimaced. “And I’m so ready for this pregnancy to be over.”
“Eleven months,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Not as long as I expected.”
“Longer than I did,” she muttered. But she sighed and curled her arms around his neck, tugged him closer. “Have you decided on a name?”
Chagrined, the Doctor scrunched his face in consternation and tugged his ear. “I’m still debating the merits of each one.”
Rose nipped his lower lip. “I gave you my two choices. Said it was up to you to decide.” She poked his chest and grinned at his answering smile. “You better have an answer when she comes into this world. I am not calling her Baby!”
“No,” he murmured against her mouth.
He pulled back and brought them to one of the many ledges lining the lagoon. Settling her against his front, her bum wiggling against his semi-hard cock, he leaned his head back on the slick stone and watched the ceiling.
“I ran from everything, Rose. Everything.” He stopped, sighed. “I never stopped running, not even when I met you.”
The Doctor ran his hands over her belly, cupped her breasts, slid his fingers down her sides. Needed the contact, the touch that flared their telepathy to brilliant life. Needed to simply feel her. Touch her. Love her.
“We ran together, but you terrified me. I wanted you so much, loved you so desperately.” He raised his head and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. “Still do. But I can’t imagine what my life would be like if you hadn’t come into it.”
She half-turned, one hand on his cheek, the other between his hearts. “Doctor,” she whispered, a breath of understanding.
“I never thought I’d have another family. Didn’t want one until you. They hurt too much.”
He kissed her, then. Emotion pricked the back of his eyes, thumped heavily through his hearts. Burned along their bond with all the things he didn’t say enough. He ran his fingers over her marriage tattoos, felt the zap of electricity dance along his nerves.
“I love you.”
It seemed inadequate for the width and breadth of emotion, of love and need and everything he felt for her. It encompassed all that and more.
“I love you, too, my Doctor.”
Rose turned around and leaned her head back on his chest. They sat like that for a long, long while. Just the two of them and their ship. Quiet and content and anticipating the next step in their lives. Not running, but waiting.
“Let’s find Jenny,” Rose eventually whispered. “Just the three of us. Let’s have a picnic or something, our little family. Before this one, here—” she took his hand and twined her fingers with his—“joins us.”
“I’d like that,” he whispered into her hair. “I’d like that very much.”
And as they exited the lagoon, the soft hum of the TARDIS a balm over his open and raw hearts, the Doctor made his decision. He knew what he wanted their daughter, their second born, named.
Aušra Susan.
He couldn’t wait to meet her.