Sparrow Saga: Book 1 - Time Lady Sparrow

Chapter 11: Fathers, Time, and the Weight of Choices

The soft hum of the TARDIS echoed through the console room as they hurtled through time and space. Sparrow, still adjusting to her new form, sat quietly in a corner, her legs crossed, her mind deep in thought. Her newly regenerated body, still tired from the ordeal, buzzed with energy—two hearts beating in unison, though she wished they would quiet down. It was overwhelming, like trying to hold back a storm while keeping a smile on her face.

Across the room, the Doctor fiddled with the controls, his brow furrowed, clearly trying to keep himself occupied. After their conversation, things had been strained between them. She could still feel his confusion, his fascination, and... something more. But there was no time to dwell on that. Not now.

Rose had returned from her mother's after those few days, and the moment she saw Sparrow—her new, female form—her reaction was immediate and as expected.

"What the hell happened to you?" Rose's voice rang out, sharp and filled with disbelief.

Sparrow stood up, slowly, her new body feeling more graceful, more centered. She ran a hand through her now-longer curls, giving Rose a level stare. "I regenerated."

"Regenerated? What does that even mean? You're... you're a woman now!" Rose's voice was tinged with disgust, her eyes flickering with a mix of confusion and something darker. "This is so... weird. How can you be Mickey and—"

"I'm not Mickey anymore," Sparrow interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "My name is Sparrow."

Rose's face twisted into a sneer, clearly struggling to understand. "Oh, great, so you're not Mickey anymore, but you still expect me to be okay with this? With you?"

Before Sparrow could respond, the Doctor cut in, his tone clipped, as if trying to avoid a confrontation. "Rose, it's more complicated than that. Time Lords—Time Ladies—we regenerate when we're injured, and we change. It's who we are."

Rose's expression didn't soften, though she cast a glance at the Doctor, her lips pursed. "So, what? You're just going to keep her around? Keep... Mickey around?"

Sparrow felt a flicker of anger flare inside her. Rose was already acting like this was about her, as if Sparrow's existence was somehow an inconvenience. She folded her arms and stood tall, resisting the urge to snap back. Not worth it, she thought. Not worth the energy.

Rose, however, wasn't finished. "You should just drop her off somewhere. I mean, what's the point in dragging her along? You don't need—"

"Rose!" The Doctor's voice was sharper now, his patience wearing thin. He turned to face her fully. "Enough."

Rose's eyes widened, her mouth snapping shut at the Doctor's sudden change in tone. For a moment, there was silence, the tension in the air thick and suffocating.

Finally, Rose crossed her arms, glaring at Sparrow. "Fine. Whatever."

The Doctor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to release the tension from his body. "We'll take a break from all this, yeah? Just a little trip back home."

Rose's mood seemed to change in an instant. "Actually, I've got a request," she said, her voice softening as she turned to the Doctor. "Take me back. To Earth. 1987, the day my dad died."

Sparrow's eyes widened at the request. No. She can't possibly be serious.

The Doctor hesitated, clearly conflicted. He glanced at Sparrow, their shared understanding in that moment palpable, before turning back to Rose. "Rose... it's not a good idea to interfere with—"

"I just want to be there for him," Rose interrupted. "Just to see him. Please."

The Doctor sighed, the weight of Rose's request heavy on his shoulders. He nodded slowly, though Sparrow could see the reluctance in his movements. "All right. But no changing things. We just observe. Understood?"