Chapter 11: Just a Nightmare. Again.
Rose gasped, holding her side where a plasma bolt had burned its way through her Gallifreyan armored body suit. It was agonizing. The only good thing about it, it cauterized the wound. No chance to bleed out, Rose thought grimly. Laying back against the dirt bowl she found herself in, surrounded by what she once called a fairy circle of trees, she looked over at the few others who had found shelter there. Tony was there, half his face coated in blood. His normally blonde hair dark in the light from the head wound he was ignoring. On his neck was a mark, green and branching out as the poison worked through his veins. It had to be horrible for him, she couldn't even imagine the pain her little brother had to be in.
Jake was there as well. He was mostly unharmed, a few burns here and there. He also was the lucky son of a bitch of the group. Unfortunately his luck ran out with one of the hostiles, one he swore was some kind of Cyber men they had never seen before, caught him and snapped his gun arm with the ease one might use when breaking a dry branch. Or twig. Now, he was spotting a broken leg to match his arm. He was leaning back across from Rose, breathing deeply, trying to think of a plan to get them all safely out of the forest alive.
River Song had definitely seen better days. Her face was drawn with pain, trying to tend to Tony's head. Her abdomen was stained dark. She had taken a shot from one of the smaller, lizard like people there. They had only recently got the bleeding to stop. She was deathly pale, breathing raggedly. Every in breath was shaky, every out was rattled. Rose worried her friend might have a punctured lung and was trying to tough it out. The look in River's normally bright green eyes were dull. John was gone. Her husband had been taken by the monsters in the dark. River knew she was going to die soon.
Suddenly the world shifted, tilting and appeared to Rose's eyes like water rippling. Sitting up, she watched in horror as all the golden timelines suddenly snapped. One after another. A figure walked towards her in the chaos as the world was filled with screams again, ripping itself to shreds. The figure held out his hand.
She knew it was a man, but not who. Blood dripped from him. Rose recoiled back, straining to get away but her body wouldn't obey. The figure came closer and closer.
Then came the gold and silver lights, the song of war beat in her ears. It almost drowned out the roar from the shadowed man.
"You will never escape me, Bad Wolf! You hear me! You. Are. MINE!"
…
The scream that threatened to rip from her mouth got caught in her throat as her eyes flew open wide. Rose clawed at the hands that were holding her back as she struggled to stand, sit up, anything just she wasn't on her back. Reality, dreams and memories warred behind her eyes, through her broken mind, confusing her.
"No!" Rose tried to yell but it came out a whimpers as she slumped, weak and dizzy back down onto something soft.
Warmth filled her mind, soothing her and nudging the confusion back. As the clouds cleared up, she became aware of someone whispering to her softly. The voice was deep, low and accented pleasantly. Soft, cool fingers brushed against her forehead and temples.
"Shh," the voice was telling her. "Take it easy. You got a nasty bump, you do. Silly little ape."
Opening her eyes again, Rose was greeted to the sight of the Doctor leaning over her.
"Hi," he greeted her with a soft smile.
"Hi," she mumbled back at him.
Confusion and questions clouded her eyes as she tried to remember what happened. She wasn't in the viewing room this time. There was no murderous old woman or young man bearing down on her. Helping her sit up, the Doctor eased his body behind her on the chaise, letting her lean back heavily against his chest. He shifted one arm around her, holding her carefully around the waist. As she became more and more coherent, Rose realized they were in Sneed's parlor. Mr. Sneed and Charles were talking. Vaguely she heard Sneed say something about him being about to go to the Bishop for an exorcism.
"Tommyrot," Charles snorted derisively.
Mr. Sneed chose that moment to ignore the author and looked back over at where the Doctor and Rose were seated. "Well, sir, you said when we got here you would explain what was happening. And I see your assistant is awake now."
Rose felt the Doctor stiffen a little against her. Leaning her head back, she looked up at him. Before he could say anything something caught both their attentions. Two sets of eyes, one gold one blue, locked onto the gas lamp on the wall next to the door. Gwyneth entered the room with a silver tray, four tea cups balanced with ease. A small blue pot paired with matching creamer and sugar dishes completed the set. The Doctor shifted carefully out from behind Rose and moved to the wall.
"Having trouble with your gas?" Rose asked out of reflex as the Doctor touched the wall, putting his ear against it. The other three occupants of the room turned to watch him as Rose stood up.
"What in the name of Shakespeare is going on?" Charles asked, wonder filling his voice.
The Doctor motioned them all to hush as her frowned. Rose took two steps forward then froze as she heard it. The whispers, the cold feeling that seemed physical and mental wash over her making her shiver. That didn't happen before, she thought with wide eyes. Turning her attention away from the Doctor, she looked towards another door that led deeper into the spooky house.
"There's something inside the walls," the Doctor frowned. "The gas pipes. Rose, something's living inside the gas."
Turning to his companion, he found her standing perfectly still and watching the other doorway. Her eyes were slightly narrowed as if she was concentrating. Moving from the wall, he came to her side. He saw that look before on her on Platform One.
"What is it?" he asked her softly, following her gaze. Then he heard something from down the hall.
A door handle rattling.
"Something's down there," Rose murmured. "I thought I saw… felt something."
She expected the Doctor to demand an answer from her. Surprise distracted her when he didn't. Instead, he walked through the doorway and headed down the hallway with that confidant swagger only he could pull off. Rose was behind him in a flash. The sound of rapid footsteps behind her told her the other three were not about to be left out. Smirking to herself, she couldn't blame them. The Doctor had that effect on people, really.
The sound of someone hitting a door with an open palm got stronger and stronger as the group ventured closer to the origin of the mystery. Rose reached out and gripped the Doctor's hand again. Glancing back at her, he tugged her closer to his side. She could feel each of her muscles tensing up as they got closer and closer. Normally she would have laughed at the idea of zombies, but this was turning out to be more like a horror film than it had the first time she went through it. And it was terrifying then!
A white door towards the back of the house that acted as the funeral home turned out to be the source of the sounds. Without releasing Rose from his grip, the Doctor reached out, testing the handle. Locked. Stepping back, he lined up to kick the door in when Sneed yelled out.
"This is my house!" He glared at the Doctor, who just stared right back at him. Moving past the Doctor, the undertaker fished out a ring full of keys and unlocked the door. Stepping back, he motioned for the Doctor to do the honors. Grinning, the Doctor went to open the portal when it swung suddenly inwards. He and Rose found themselves face to face with two walking dead bodies. Their nearly white blue eyes swept over the gathering of five people before the male of the two, poor Mr. Redpath Rose recalled from a distant memory, lunged at them.
Someone cried out, possibly Gwyneth as Mr. Redpath surged into the hallway. The Doctor tried to move Rose out of the way, but the zombie was faster than it looked. Ice gold fingers locked on Rose's shoulder, pulling her back. The Doctor growled in his throat, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauled her back to his side. At the same time, Rose was mule kicking her attacked hard. She felt the heel of her boot connect with possibly the kneecap. Then a sick snapping sound made her wince a little. The zombie of Mr. Redpath released her immediately, stumbling only to be kicked again by the Doctor. The heavy work books connecting the dead male square in the chest, sending him back into the walking dead form of his grandmother.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rose noted that Sneed had moved himself to stand closer to the door and the two zombies, Gwyneth safely behind him.
"It's a prank," Charles gasped from Rose's shoulder. "It must be. We're under some mesmeric influence."
"No, we're not," the Doctor answered, his grin grim and cold. "The dead are walking."
Tightening his grip on Rose's waist, he pulled her more firmly to his side protectively. Looking up at him, she noted the lack of excitement and curiosity in his expression this time. He looked angry.
"Alright then. My name's the Doctor," he announced with that same confidence and authority that was his birth right. "Who are you, then? What do you want?"
The group as a whole tensed up now, waiting. Rose gripped at the Doctor's jacket tightly.
"We're failing," was the reply. Behind her, Charles drew in a shape breathe.
The voice that came out of Mr. Redpath was not the voice of a man, of any age. It was like a chorus of voices, soft and childish, all speaking in harmony with each other.
"Open the rift," the child like voices pleaded, "we're dying! Trapped. Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain. Help us!"
As soon as the plea was delivered, the two bodies of old Mrs. Redpath and her grandson opened. The same blue gaseous forms spilled out on a scream. They circled the room, shrieking and wailing before they were swallowed by the flickering gas lamps against a wall.
…
The group returned to the parlor after the encounter. During the slow walk back, the Doctor had introduced Rose to Charles. The two greeted each other as was appropriate then fell silent. Each of the group was shake but for different reasons. Rose sunk back down on the chaise she had woken up on, gently touching her forehead. Like was normal for dealings with the Doctor, everything had happened so quickly she hadn't had time to deal with the fact that she had a raging headache. Or really even acknowledge said headache until now. The Doctor hovered near her, checking on her eyes and looking at the bump on the side of her head. He nodded to himself and moved away, resting against the mantle.
"Why don't you start from the beginning, Mr. Sneed," the Doctor instructed, taking control of the situation.
All eyes turned to Sneed now as he sat in his high back chair, fidgeting a bit under the attention.
"You have to understand, sir," he began as Gwyneth handed him a cup of tea. "It's not my fault. It's this house. You see, it always had a reputation. Haunted. But, I never had much bother until a few months back. That was when it all started. The stiffs…"
Mr. Sneed trailed off at the snort from Charles, who was glaring in disapproval at Sneed's wordage. The Doctor was glaring mildly as well. Rose narrowed her eyes at Sneed as well, accepting her own cup with a soft thanks to Gwyneth.
"Erm, the, er, dear departed, I mean, started getting restless," Sneed finished, looking properly abashed at his blunder.
"Ridiculous," Charles huffed. He had declined the tea in favor of a small glass of port. He needed something a bit stronger for his nerves it appeared.
"You witnessed it!" Sneed turned to look over at Charles, who looked away. "Can't keep the beggars down, sir! They walk. And it's truly the queerest things they hang on to." Sneed shrugged, sounded confused.
The Doctor forced himself to relax, idly wondering what it is that Rose got them into and what she knew. Thus far he hadn't been able to question her. Looking away from Sneed, who was talking about one of the other incidents he had dealt with as Gwyneth approached him.
"Here you are, sir," she murmured softly. "Two sugars, just how you like it."
That got his attention. The way she spoke was like she had made him tea hundreds of times before. But her body language was ridged, like she realized her mistake. Glancing over at Rose then to Gwyneth, a smile curled his thin lips. This was just making him more curious.
"Morbid fancy," Charles snorted, dismissing Sneed once again as a fraud.
"Oh, Charles," Rose called out, "you were there with us. You saw it too."
"I saw nothing but an illusion, young lady," he informed her. "So did you. This is no business for a lady."
"If you're going to deny it," the Doctor snapped, angry again, "don't waste my time. Just shut it."
Charles was stunned into silence. He looked at Rose a moment, apologetic. She understood where he was coming from and his desire to protect her. He had been protective in a fatherly way of her before, she thought fondly. It appears that was the same here.
"Tell me about the gas," the Doctor stepped away from the mantle to pace the room restlessly.
"That, that's new, sir," Sneed admitted. "Never seen anything like that before."
"That would mean it's getting stronger, wouldn't it?" Rose stood, asking. "The rift. It's getting wider, and something's sneaking through."
The Doctor turned to smile at his clever Rose. Leave it to her to pick up the pieces to the puzzle.
"What's the rift?" The question came from Charles, his natural curiosity pulling him to ask.
"It's a weak point in time and space," the Doctor answers. "The connection between this place and another. That's the cause of most ghost stories. Most of the time."
"Unless they happen to be caused by oddly dressed men out of time," Rose muttered with a grin of affection at the Doctor. He grinned back at her, relaxing.
"That's how I got the house so cheap," Sneed exclaimed. "Stories going back generations."
Rose stopped listening as she watched Charles slip from the room, looking very disturbed indeed. She knew that feeling as well. When dealing with the Doctor, you either were pulled into a new world, kicking and screaming then thanking him for showing you how to really live. Or you would reject it, fear it, fear him and spend the rest of your life fighting to ignore the fact monsters are real after all. Instantly, Rose took pity on the author. Moving toward the Doctor, Rose placed a hand on his arm.
The Doctor turned to her, Sneed was off on some tangent about how the stories were helpful for business and all that nonsense. He was always more than happy to give her his attention. His little Earth girl rarely asked for his attention like this. In the back of his mind, he could hear the TARDIS chuckling at the line of thought. He smiled at it as well. He had been around her all of three days, almost four now, and he couldn't begin to see his life without her at his side.
"You should go talk to Charles," she suggested softly.
Curling an arm around her shoulders, he laid his forehead against hers. "Are you going to tell me I was being rude, Rose Tyler?"
"Yes, I am," she smiled up at him, closing her eyes once again. "Very rude. Rude and not ginger."
He chuckled and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Stay out of trouble," he ordered her.
Walking around her, he exited the room to follow where Charles had wandered off to. Rose looked over to see Sneed averting his gaze and Gwyneth blushing rather prettily. Rose blushed a bit herself. Sometimes she forgets others are around, and displays like that one in this era were not for public display. Not wanting to be alone with Sneed, Rose followed Gwyneth from the room.
The little pantry was the same as Rose remembered. Gwyneth moved ahead of her to tend to the washing while Rose let her eyes wander around the room. Nearly fifty years had passed between the time she first stepped foot in here and now, and yet Rose found it interesting the things the memory clings to. Walking over to Gwyneth's side, Rose smiled.
"Can I help with anything?" Rose asked.
"Oh no, Miss," Gwyneth looked shocked. "That wouldn't be right."
"I only want to help you," Rose promised. "I bet you take great pride in how well you take care of Mr. Sneed."
"I do," Gwyneth gave Rose a real smile for the first time. A little gap between her front teeth caused Rose's heart to squeeze a bit as she thought back to her Gwen. "And Mr. Sneed is very generous too in his thanks."
Eight pounds a year, Rose remembered with a little smile. It was hard for Rose to think of something to say. Last time she had been so ignorant of Gwyneth's life, saying so many shocking things. Instead, Rose picked up the drying towel and took a cup from the counter, carefully drying it.
"Do you get any time to yourself?" Rose found herself asking. "Like on Sundays or market days? Just to get out of this spooky place, yeah. Be in the sun?"
Gwyneth grinned at her and nodded. "Yes, miss. I get every Sunday off, good and proper. Between you and me, I think it is just a habit for Mr. Sneed. When I was younger, he sent me off to school every Sunday. Nice and proper, he told me."
Rose grinned, picturing such a creepy old man doing his best for Gwyneth in her youth.
"Did sums and everything," Gwyneth mentioned, then grinned wickedly at Rose. "To be honest, I hated every second."
"I did too," Rose laughed with Gwyneth. For the moment, this stolen little moment in the stream of time, they were more like two mates talking, than the servant girl and the girl out of time.
Leaning in, Gwyneth confessed with a whisper, "Once, I didn't go at all. I ran on the heath all on my own!"
At the other girl's squeak of joy, having someone she could confine in made Rose laugh again.
"Have you and the Doctor been married long?"
The question came out of left field for Rose. She froze and looked at Gwyneth, her face a bright red. "We aren't. I mean, he and I aren't like that."
Gwyneth gave her a look, the laughter fading from her eyes. "Are you sure of that, Miss?"
Slowly Rose nodded. Vaguely she could feel the nudge of the TARDIS, warning her of danger. Another feeling, one she didn't notice last time pulled at her mind. Gwyneth, she realized in amazement.
"You are the strangest thing, miss," Gwyneth breathed. Rose knew she could close her mind from the girl, but didn't. She needed Gwyneth to see, to understand. "You come from so very, very far away. Farther than you ever flew. London… but not the London I know. So noisy. And all those people…"
Rose held the darker gaze of the servant girl, letting her see.
"And you, you've flown so terribly far. So much heartache. Oh, the things you've seen. The things you know. Darkness. Blood. But light, so bright hidden. Battles and … the big bad wolf!" Gwyneth suddenly broke away, backing up quickly against the shelves.
Her eyes started to water as she nearly wept out her apologies to Rose. Not having wanted her to see all that, Rose came forward and gathered the slim form of Gwyneth into her arms and just held her close.
"S'alright, Gwyneth," Rose whispered softly. "You're alright. I promise. S'alright."
"I'm so sorry, Rose," the girl whimpered and Rose knew it wasn't because she looked that she was apologizing for. It was for what Rose had gone through. "I, I can't help it. Ever since I was a little girl, my mum said I had the sight. But, she-she told me to hide it!"
"But it's getting stronger, more powerful," the Doctor interrupted them, startling to two women apart. "Is that right?"
"All the time, sir," Gwyneth bowed her head, trying to stop her trembling. "Every night. V-voices in my head."
Rose narrowed her eyes at the Doctor. He merely looked at her impassively before looking over at Gwyneth again.
"You grew up on top of the rift," he told her, ignoring Rose. "You're part of it. You're the key."
This time Rose took a step closer to Gwyneth, frowning at the Doctor. And she was still ignored.
"I've tried to make sense of it, sir. Consulted with spiritualists, table wrappers, all sorts," the trembling girl admitted."
"Well, that should help," the Doctor suddenly grinned. Rose knew that grin. "You can show us what to do."
"What to do where, sir?"
"Don't you even suggest we –" Rose started only to be cut off.
"We're going to have a séance," he beamed when he heard Rose growl a soft 'damn it' under her breath.
…
Before Rose could even try to talk to Doctor out of this idea, she found herself back in the parlor with the others. She was happy to see Charles was still there. Moving over to him as the Doctor and Sneed moved a table into the middle of the room under Gwyneth's instructions, Rose smiled at the author who still looked like he wanted to run.
"You doing alright?" She asked softly, with a matching smile.
"Oh, my," Charles seemed to be shaken out of his thoughts when she spoke to him. "I suppose. It's still very hard to come to terms with, my dear. To learn that everything you thought you knew is, in fact, wrong."
"It's not wrong," Rose admitted, turning to watch as Gwyneth sent the Doctor out of the room to fetch a couple more chairs. "There's just more, so much more to learn."
Charles nodded a little, taking a drink of his port. "Your Doctor said nearly the same thing to me earlier."
Rose smiled at the fact Charles called the Doctor hers. "S'what he taught me when we first met. He rescued me from death at the hands of living plastic. Don't ask." Rose laughed a little at Charles' expression. "After that, my life was never the same."
Charles and Rose both fell silent, both lost in their thoughts as they pondered the world they found themselves in.
"Charles, Rose," the Doctor called them over as he came back in with two extra chairs. Setting them at the table, he held his hand out to Rose.
Charles watched as the smile and light washed over the young girl's lovely face. She walked over to the Doctor and took his hand in a ease that spoke volumes for the pair. The Doctor nodded to him as he took a seat, pulling Rose in the one beside him. Gwyneth took her place between Rose and Charles. Mr. Sneed sat in his high back chair he had moved to the table, between the Doctor and Charles.
Reaching out, Gwyneth took Rose's hand confidently, but was more shy when she reached for Charles. He looked like he wanted to say something but not to. Instead he just took the offered hand, a bit surprised at the smile Rose gave him and the encouraging nod.
"This is how Madam Mortlock summons those from the Land of Mists," the servant girl explained to the table. "She's down in Mid Town. We must all join hands."
Charles made a snorting sound, but remained in his seat.
"That a'boy," the Doctor beamed at Charles.
"I have to just say," Charles began, trying to be a bit more open minded. "This is often the sort of cheap mummery I try to un-mask. In my experiences, these séances are nothing but luminous tambourines and a squeeze box between the knees."
His voice had become more and more disgruntled as he spoke, making Gwyneth pale and lower her gaze to the table, ashamed. Seeing her reaction, he was quick to assure her that while his belief was very much in question, he would stay and help. Who knows, he laughed. He might even learn something new.
"Good man," Rose cheered him, squeezing Gwyneth's cool fingers lightly.
"Nothing I love more than a happy medium," the Doctor piped up, earning himself a few looks from around the table. He just continued his daft grin.
"I can't believe you just said that," Rose chuckled, shaking her head.
At a nod from the Doctor, Gwyneth closed her eyes. Reaching out with her mind for the spirits, like she had been told before by others, calling out for an answer. Her mind touched something else instead in that moment. Flashes of others' memories assaulted her mind, making her frown. She saw a burnt orange sky, a young boy standing in the tall grass, all alone. She saw a man standing in the study of his home, aching and alone, frustrated and full of pain. She saw another young boy, sitting on the steps of his house while watching all the other children playing, though he was never invited to play. The last thing that flashed through her mind was an image of herself, standing still in a grey dark room, what looked like fire all around her. She could feel the anguish the viewer was feeling, the sheer pain at not being able to do more. That mind, she knew this one. She had seen it once already.
In this mind, Gwyneth saw her own fate.
"Speak to us," Gwyneth called out softly, letting the images fall away. "Are you there? Spirits?"
Gwyneth's eyes snapped open and raised them towards the ceiling. A soft murmuring filled the room, too faint for most to hear it.
"Can you hear that?" Rose asked softly, looking up as well.
The Doctor squeezed her hand, nodding. Across the table, Charles strained to hear what Rose and the Doctor were hearing.
"Nothing," he told them. "Nothing is happening. I stand by my belief this is sheer folly."
"I feel them!" Gwyneth suddenly cried out, her head falling back, "I can feel them."
The room erupted suddenly with dozens of the blue gaseous people, circling and spinning through the room. They were all wailing, crying out as if in pain.
Rose frowned, trying to hear. They were all talking, screaming out. "What're they saying?" She sounded concerned to the Doctor. Her grip on his hand had gotten harder.
"They can't get through the rift," the Doctor explained, frowning a bit himself, trying to understand what was being cried out by a thousand voices. It was not sitting well with him. It was reminding him all too much of the Moment and what followed. "Gwyneth, it's not controlling you, you're controlling it. Look deep. Allow them through."
"I can't," Gwyneth cried out in pain.
"Yes, you can," the Doctor instructed her. "Just believe it. I have faith in you, Gwyneth."
"I'm not sure this is a good idea anymore," Rose began, her voice trembling a little. She was cut off from whatever else she was going to say as three angelic looking blue beings appeared behind Gwyneth. It nearly took everything in her to force back the growl and the Wolf inside. Rose could feel the TARDIS trying to assist, even from so far from them.
"Good God," Sneed exclaimed. "Spirits from the other side!"
"Other side of the universe, maybe," the Doctor murmured, his eyes on the three beings and no one else.
Gwyneth slowly lowered her head and reopened her eyes. They were glassy, unfocused. When she spoke, she echoed the words of the middle being directly behind her. Her grip on Charles and Rose's hands had gone lack. The two of them exchanged looks before looked at the sight before them.
"Pity us," the creature was saying. "Please, pity the Gelth. There is so little time, help us."
"What do you want us to do?" the Doctor's Northern tones called out, taking control of the situation before Rose could even try.
"The rift. Take the girl to the rift," the Gelth pleaded of the Doctor, ignoring everyone else now. "Make the bridge. Keep the Wolf at bay."
"What for?" that question came from Charles. His curiosity overcoming his fear of the situation.
"We are so very few," the Gelth answered mournfully. "The last of our kind. We face extinction."
Rose glared at the Gelth's lies.
"Why?" the Doctor asked, frowning now. "What happened?"
"Once, we had a physical form like you," the lead Gelth told them. "But then the war came."
"War?" Charles sat forward a little more. "What war?"
"The Time War."
Rose tightened her grip on the Doctor's hand and looked at him. He was looking back at her, a look of pure anguish and guilt in his beautiful eyes.
Rose looked back at the Gelth as they told the table of the war, the results of it on their world and race. If she could hate them any more than she did, she would. She knew what they were doing. They saw the Doctor's reaction to their words. They were digging a little deeper, twisting the knife a little more. And Rose found that if she had the ability, she would just see them all dead for hurting her Doctor like this.
"So, that's why you need the corpses," the Doctor stated softly, startling Rose out of her thoughts.
"We want to stand tall," the lead Gelth sighed. "To feel the sunlight. To live again. We need a physical form, and your dead are abandoned. They're going to waste, give them to us!" Now it was demanding.
"No," Rose growled her denial.
"Why not?" the Doctor was shocked. His Rose was refusing to help someone.
"No," Rose repeated. "I'll tell you why later."
"Why not?" the Doctor demanded, his gaze going cold. "Not decent? Not polite? It could save their lives, Rose."
Rose stared at him, seeing the signs of his temper rising. Well, so was hers. And she was refusing to back down this time. She would do whatever she needed to, even take Gwyneth's place if she had to, to try and save the girl.
"Open the rift," the Gelth cut in quickly. "Let the Gelth through. We're dying. Help us. Please! Pity the Gelth! Fear the Wolf!"
The Gelth disappeared quickly after that, going back into the gas pipes, hiding in the walls. As Gwyneth slumped forward, both Rose and Charles were on their feet. The Doctor stood as well, but his gaze was solidly on Rose. She could feel his anger, his feeling of betrayal at her behavior. She would need to deal with him later. Right now Gwyneth needed her. Pushing his temper out of her mind, she instructed Charles to pick Gwyneth up and put her on the chaise. Turning to the still shell shocked Sneed, Rose got his attention by speaking sharply, sending him from the room to get her a wet compress for Gwyneth. Rose glanced at the Doctor before looking away. The fury on his face, the set of his jaw and the thin press of his lips told her all she needed to know. If she spoke to him now, he wouldn't hear a word she had to say.
Rose turned away from him and went to Charles and Gwyneth, setting herself carefully on the chair beside the younger girl's limp form.
"It's all true," Charles breathed out. "All of it. All true."
Charles looked to the young woman who sat near him. She reached out took his hand gently, giving it a little squeeze and glances over the Doctor's way. Charles followed her line of sight, he spotted the Doctor watching the two of them intently. Rose nodded a little then released Charles' hand. He gave her a little nod in return before heading over to where the Doctor was leaning against the mantel again.
"All true, Doctor," Charles said. "How do you cope with all that knowledge in your mind?"
The Doctor spared Charles a glance before looking back in the direction of the two women. He remained silent.
"You are angry at her?" Charles found himself asking, like it was his business. "For her denial, I suspect."
The Doctor snorted.
"I take it that is unlike the young lady," Charles murmured, though it was formed more like a question.
No response.
"I think," Charles tried one last time, "if she has a reason to say no, it must be a very good one. She doesn't strike me as someone who would condemn another without reason. A very bright young lady, she is. You are lucky, Doctor."
That got a reaction from the Doctor. He turned to almost glare at Charles. Charles held his hands up in surrender to the Doctor's temper and excused himself as Sneed returned to the room. The undertaker handed Rose the compress.
Rose murmured her thanks as she turned her attention to Gwyneth. She fought herself to reach out with her mind to try and sooth the Doctor, but knew better. The state he was in was too violent. It wouldn't end well. Instead, she gently mopped Gwyneth's forehead with the cool rag, whispering soft encouragements to the brave girl. Even promising her a few things. Slowly, dark eyes fluttered open. Seeing Rose tending to her, Gwyneth struggled to get up.
"Take it easy," Rose murmured. "Rest if you feel weak, yeah?"
"The angels," Gwyneth whispered, looking into Rose's eyes. Rose got the strong feeling that wasn't the word Gwyneth wanted to use. "They came, didn't they? They need me."
"They do need you, Gwyneth," the Doctor finally spoke. He had moved to lean against the wall closer to Rose, arms crossed over his chest. "You're they're only chance of survival."
Turning sharply, Rose pinned the Doctor with a heated look. "I told you, no. She's exhausted. Just leave her alone."
The Doctor let his head fall back against the wall, letting out a harsh sigh. She was being unreasonable, he thought. Did she not understand? Why would she challenge him so about this?
Rose offered Gwyneth a drink without speaking. Gwyneth watched Rose's expression. The golden haired woman's eyes were hard, closed off. Her jaw was clenched tightly as she tried to keep her own temper in check. Gwyneth lightly touched Rose's wrist, accepting the water. Emotions rocked Gwyneth. Fear, despair, grief, anger, and so many others. Gwyneth found she could understand Rose better now. Sadly, she already knew what her decision would be.
"Explain it to me, Doctor," Sneed called out from the other side of the room. "What are they?"
"Aliens," the Doctor shrugged, shifting against the wall to look over at Charles and Sneed.
"Like… foreigners?" Sneed was trying to understand. Charles looked much quicker on the uptake.
"Pretty foreign, yeah," the Doctor agreed lightly. His tone easily hiding his temper. "From up there." He pointed at the ceiling.
"Brecon?" Sneed asked and Rose choked back a laugh. Charles had to look away as well.
"Close enough," Rose chuckled from the other room.
"They've been trying to get through from Brecon to Cardiff but the road's blocked," the Doctor explained, throwing Rose a little smile when she had laughed. "Only a few can get through, but those that do are weak. They can only test drive the bodies for so long, then they revert to gas. Hide in the pipes." The Doctor knocked on the wall behind him lightly.
"Which is why they need Gwyneth," Charles murmurs, putting two and two together.
"They aren't having her," Rose growled over her shoulder at the men.
The Doctor turned to Rose again, his gaze hardening in response to her tone.
"Incredible," Charles chuckled lightly without much humor. "Ghosts that are not in fact ghosts, but beings from another world completely. Who can only exist in our world by inhabiting cadavers."
"Good system," the Doctor nodded, his eyes still on Rose. "Might work."
"It won't," Rose stated firmly, meeting the Doctor's gaze. Standing, she moved to stand in front of him. "Seriously, you can't."
"Seriously," he growled back, his temper winning. "I can."