Ashes of Survival
by Camilla Sandman

Disclaimer: Doctor Who in his various incarnations belong to BBC. I am merely their devoted drooler.

Author's Note: This is for Saz, who wanted naughtiness (check!), them being tied up (check!) and no Jack (check!). The rest is from my slightly kinky brain. No Jack means it's set before "The Empty Child", but definitely after "Dalek". It can be considered an AU of sorts. Descriptions of Gallifrey seemed to vary within the sources I looked at, and I've thusly had to pick and match a little.

II

Part One

II

This, he thinks, is a perfect morning. Green and blue of forests and ocean all glimmering in the dawning sun, the planet spinning under him in an eternal dance of space and time. He sings with it, as he always does, sings the words the Universe shines with.

This will be a perfect day, as all days are because they're never the same. The last perfect day.

And the sun roars and it is not the sun after all, not the dawn. Fire is coming from the sky. Fire is coming. Fire is here.

He screams.

The last perfect day ends.

Afterwards, there is no song. Only the lone howl as the dance goes on, silent in space.

II

Rose had almost gotten used to the fall through time and space by thinking of it as a lift drop where the floors were never announced and it never slowed down to stop until there. One TARDIS, going down...

"And what are we chasing this time?" she asked, clinging onto the console and trying not to fall ungracefully on her ass. He'd probably enjoy that too much. He certainly had all the other times.

"Distress call through time," he replied, looking up at the green light of the TARDIS and she could see the light mirror in his eyes. Sometimes, she wasn't sure where the TARDIS ended and he begun.

"You do remember what happened the last time we answered a distress call?"

"I never forget."

The TARDIS came to an abrupt stop and she did fall after all, the steel grids greeting her with hard familiarity.

"You need a pillow there?" he asked, smiling just slightly.

"I wouldn't need one if you steered this thing a little less like a drunk driver across a field of cabbage," she shot back, struggling to her feet. "Where are we, then?"

"The planet of Breidablik. Home to the tallest mountain in their time of the Universe."

"Please tell me we're not climbing it."

"We'll see," he replied non-reassuringly, and moved towards the door. "Coming, Rose Tyler?"

"Right on your ass," she muttered and followed, taking care to check out his ass as she walked. Yep, it was more than adequate to be at.

It was a different kind of sunlight that greeted her as they stepped out. It seemed to glimmer more, as if the air itself was reflecting it. It almost felt as if she could trap it between her hands, like water or sand, or watch it melt on her skin like snow.

"It's the atmosphere that does it," the Doctor explained, smiling at her awe.

She smiled back, because joy was better with two and sometimes it seemed he could find pleasure in merely being the mirror of all the pleasure and awe she'd feel.

"It's a bit like being high on mushrooms," she observed.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that. Right, then. Let's save the day, shall we?"

"I would never disagree with a doctor."

"Except when you do."

"Of course."

As they walked, she realized it wasn't grass they were walking on, but that the ground itself was green, perhaps even alive. But the trees were more like home, almost reminding her of pines. The smell was slightly off, though. It felt sweeter, almost fruity. It made her wonder if the trees themselves were edible. She better work on her not-surprised face if the Doctor decided to take a nibble. He was getting far too much joy out of throwing her off-balance as it was.

One of these days, she would have to return the favour.

"So what's the distress on this planet, you think?" she asked, squinting ahead. "Alien invasion? Mushroom shortage? Cat on the loose, like at Pronia?"

"If you have mice genes, a cat would be a reason for distress," he pointed out. "Bloody cat scratched me, too. Some help you were, just laughing hysterically."

"You're just mad I didn't kiss it better."

"You still owe me for that one."

"What, a kiss or some help?"

He didn't answer, staring distractedly at the sky and she realised whatever the distress was, it was unlikely to be as simple to solve as catching a cat. He was sensing something wrong and he was usually right about those things. (She'd say always, but that would give him delusions of grandeur. Well, more of them.)

"What is it?"

"You smell that?" he asked intensely, hands in his pockets and mind somewhere in the passing of time, trying to spot the shadow. "Burning... Ashes... Flesh..."

"You've come."

The voice was was melodious and even before she turned, she had a sense of something beautiful speaking. She wasn't disappointed.

He was tall and fair, pale silver of skin and eyes as green as the planet they were standing on. His hair seemed more a mane, growing down his whole neck and his nose was thin and indistinct. Only his lips seemed human, curved in a faint smile.

"I am Baldr," he went on, bowing low. "Welcome to my planet. You must have come a long way."

"I'm Rose Tyler. He's the Doctor," she replied, throwing a quick look at the Doctor, who still seemed distant.

"I am honoured you have shared your names with me, Rose Tyler and the Doctor. Please, may you share a meal with me in my home? You have answered my call, now you'll wish to hear the cause."

"This planet burned," the Doctor said, and his eyes fell on Baldr. "Didn't it?"

For a moment, there was only the slightly hum of sunlight and something burning between the two, something she couldn't quite make out.

"Yes," Baldr finally said and the burning was in his voice. "And I need your help."

II

Ashes. So much ashes, mixing with the dust, burning in his eyes and mouth. The funeral cape of his people, his planet. All dead. All ashes. All dust.

All but him.

He wants to scream, but there is sound left in him. He's screamed out his grief in the fire and ashes are silent. Like leaves, they fall silent. Only in his mind are the screaming, screaming with the voices of his people.

This is death. This is the silence after fire.

Why does he live? Why?

Ashes and dust and no answer in the silence. Never any answer.

He isn't sure there is one anymore.

II

She wasn't sure quite what she expected Baldr would live in, but a house almost like a skyscraper of London was not it. The light shone off it, blinding her and only the Doctor's offered hand kept her from walking into it several times. It would hardly make a dashing first impression. And somehow, she did want to make an impression.

Baldr was looking at her, she was certain. She could feel his gaze, cool where the sun was warm, taking in every detail - her face, her clothes (maybe pink today hadn't been such a bright idea after all), her feet, her hand clasped in the Doctor's. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was being sized up. Then again, perhaps it was merely an alien way of saying 'how do you do'?

"Once, there was a million buildings such as this, all higher and brighter. But such as it is, I offer my home," Baldr said, drawing a finger across the glass and then stepping through it. She had only a moment to stare before the Doctor pulled her along and through, the glass becoming air again behind them.

Inside, it was all green and silver and sunlight, but faded sunlight and she could look around without having to blink too much. Stairs and alcoves reached far up, spiralling in patterns. It reminded her of a stretched out slinkie in some ways, and the sunlight seemed to spiral around it too.

"You are perhaps tired and hungry after such a trip," Baldr said softly and Rose was about to assure him it was not the case when she felt the Doctor look at her. She knew a warning sign from him when she saw one.

"Yes, that'd be fantastic," the Doctor said brightly, smiling. "Right, Rose?"

"Definitely," she added, trying to mimic the cheerful tone. If the Doctor was being this cheerful, it either meant something was very, very exciting, or very, very wrong. Or both.

"My... Helpers will show you where to dine and rest. If you will excuse me..." Bowing low again, Baldr withdrew, seemingly to her stepping into glass and being swallowed by it.

"How does he do that?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor, who looked less impressed than her.

"They can harden sunlight to a substance. It's complicated. He's just showing off."

"Takes one to know one, huh?"

"Yes."

She grinned, just as something she could only describe as a shadow of light seemed to glide up next to them and motion them to follow. Baldr's helpers, she supposed, and from the Doctor's slight eyeroll, she supposed this was also a showing off.

Which made her wonder - who was Baldr showing off to, exactly? And why?

II

Before and after, he thinks. There is a before and after him, a before and after life, a before and after planet. Before the fire, after the fire. And all he can see is the after and the dust, stretching on until death in the ashes.

The before is dead. Long mourn the after.

II

She awoke with a blinding headache, tearing through her mind like a firestorm. So many flames... So many... Too many. The sky was falling. The sky was fire. The sky... There was no sky.

Gasping, she managed to let the sensation pass. There was no fire, only the unfamiliar roof of glass and the unfamiliar bed. Why was she even in bed? She had been walking with the Doctor when... There was light, light they had walked into and then fire and then this.

Oh shit, the Doctor!

She bolted out of bed and fumbled around till she found a door, hitting her toe and cursing in process. It was dark now, and the light-as-glass felt cool. A faint glow still seemed to linger in the air, but she couldn't indentify the source. It was still enough to make her spot the Doctor, leaning over a railing and looking down.

She breathed in relief. Maybe she'd just gotten drunk at the meal and the Doctor had put her to bed. Maybe. "Doctor?"

When he turned, she knew something was seriously wrong. He wasn't looking at her, wasn't looking at anything but whatever was raging inside him. Almost sleepwalking, eyes wide open.

"Doctor?"

He staggered, still not looking at her. "Fire... Ashes... Dust... Burning. Oh, burning."

When she reached out to touch him, she nearly gasped in pain and pulled her hand back. His skin was burning, almost as if flames raged underneath it. Almost as if he was the burn.

Right. What did you do when an alien was sick? Cold baths? Aspirins? Insincere-poor-yous?

"Gallifrey," he said and the pain in his voice made her breath feel like sharp glass being swallowed, bleeding her. "It burned too. All dead. All ashes."

"No," she said forcefully. "Not all ashes. You're here."

"Couldn't save Gallifrey. Must save this. Must... Rose?" He looked at her now, and she almost wished he hadn't. So much pain there, and she couldn't even begin to touch it. All she could do was clutch his hand and suddenly, the fire was in her too, the fire was the sky, the sky was orange and amber and all she could think was not to let go.

"Gallifrey burned," the Doctor said, and she screamed.

The fire was coming.