What It Is And Isn't

Chapter 8

The Doctor felt his jaw drop. This had not happened, not really, since the first time he tried to bring Rose home. Unbidden, he felt anger rise in his chest. "What do you mean it's been three days?" He demanded, his voice climbing to a shout. The crowd winced and there were murmurs throughout, as though someone was trying to figure out the best thing to say and really just couldn't manage it.

"It has been three days," Gren said slowly, "We were worried. None of us were brave enough to venture into the forest, so we called your names but no one replied. We didn't know what to do."

The Doctor straightened, tugging on his tie and trying not to think too hard about Rose. "I can't say I blame you. And I don't," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "But we weren't gone for three days. We were gone into the afternoon, at most. Look," he pulled out the food they had been given, still fresh from that morning, and showed Gren, who gaped a little at the look of the food.

"What?" He asked, as if to himself. The people around Gren and the Doctor gasped and murmured, chatting up as if they were all coming up with their own explanations as to what, exactly, was going on.

"I've... I think I've figured out what's going on, inside the forest." The Doctor admitted slowly, as he thought to himself about what he had seen. The humanoid body, the hand covering Rose, the light leaving her eyes as she disappeared from view. He gulped, swallowing the lump in his throat with it. "To some extent, at least," he said, hoping that they wouldn't put too much trust in him.

"Go on then, tell us!" A woman in the crowd who reminded the Doctor quite of Jackie Tyler said snappishly, crossing her arms. "What's happened in there?"

"It seems to be in a time stream of its own," the Doctor started, "Since time is running at a different speed." He realized that he was going to have to explain things slower, because he wasn't talking to Rose, he was talking to people far less clever who would not understand the things that she did.

No one understood the things that she did.

He cleared his throat and sniffed. "Anyway," he said sharply, "There's nothing I can do about it. But time runs slower in there, so whoever goes in there might be safe, for a time. Like, if I were to go in and look for Rose right now, I would have more time than an average situation."

"Will you? Go and look for Rose?"

"Of course," The Doctor frowned, "Why wouldn't I?'

"No one has been recovered from the Rake."

"You don't know it's the Rake," the Doctor snapped. "You don't. It's the most similar thing tot he Rake that you are aware of, but that doesn't mean that's what it is." He glared around at all of them. "You need to understand that whatever this thing is, it wants you all, humans, dead. It didn't come after me, it came after Rose. It was faster than her and it took her."

He was panting now, even though he hadn't been yelling. He was just so overwhelmed, and it grabbed him by the gut. he couldn't control it, this flaming anger at Rose being missing. He'd lost Rose before, but he'd always had faith in her. She'd looked afraid, in the one moment he saw her. Even in the worst of times, he didn't think he'd really ever seen her look afraid.

But this was different. And he didn't know what to do. He found that he was nearly dependent on Rose being by his side. But it couldn't be that way forever, and this just set out to remind him that. He blew out his cheeks and rubbed his hands through his hair again.

"I'm not sure quite what to do," he admitted, "But I have to do something. You all must understand that Rose comes first to me."

"Of course," Gren said, "But you will look out for us as well."