The Calm Before the Storm (Epilogue)

[kalleah]

I admit freely that I cried when I wrote this.  Multiple times.  This epilogue has been fluid and ever-changing throughout the last ten or so chapters, and it has me more than any of the rest of the story.  I have loved this journey and I am so sad to have it end, but so glad to have shared it with you, whether you have commented or not.  If you haven't, I would adore a brief line from you, just to know you're there.  If this has touched you, know it has touched me, too.

There is more to come, I promise.  I am busy at work on a sequel and will share it when it's ready.  Until then, adieu.

Previous chapters

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, belovèd,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
-- Conrad Aiken, Bread and Music


The wind caught the dry grasses and rattled them, waves of sound and movement spiraling through the yellow reeds at the river's edge.  The new sound carried, a grating whirr-whirr-whirr of metal and something unnatural.  A blue box gradually shivered into being on top of the hill overlooking the river and grasses below, near a low brick wall crumbled from age and weather.

The Doctor stepped out, his hands thrust into his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up protectively, and his face carefully expressionless.  He walked with reluctant purpose down the trail through the woods toward the circle of huddled buildings some distance away.  When he arrived, he was unsurprised to see Jacob waiting, leaning on a cane and somewhat stooped.  Jacob's eyes flicked behind the Doctor, just past his right shoulder, and then back to his friend's face.  His expression softened immediately and he gestured to a nearby bench, where they both sat.

"I told her I would have a good life when she was gone," said the Doctor after a time, breaking the silence between them.  "When I said it," he hesitated, pulling on one earlobe and drawing in a shaky breath, "I thought we would have more time."

"There is never enough time in this world," said Jacob quietly.

The Doctor's laugh was dry and humorless.  "This world, yes.  She's not dead, Jacob.  She's living a life without me, in another universe, and I can never see her again.  I can imagine all of it, her fantastic life, everything I always wanted for her, and it's not enough."  He closed his eyes.  "I want her back."  The moments stretched on, and the Doctor, as usual, was the first to stumble under Jacob's unwavering gaze.  "What?" he asked, a touch of irritation in his voice.

"You can always say what is on your mind to me."

"I don't want to," said the Doctor, peevishly, like a child.  "I don't want to talk and I don't want to hurt and I don't want to --"  He gestured wildly, drew in a breath and hiccupped.  "Jacob," he said, stricken, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.  "She's gone."  The lone word, uttered with all the force of his solitude and desperation, echoed in the trees and the wind and resonated over and over again in his mind.

Jacob stood, sat down next to the Doctor, and put his arm around the other man.  The Doctor rested his head against Jacob's shoulder and wept.  Around them, the wind stirred, blowing leaves in eddies around the clearing.  "I believe that you will see her again one day, Doctor.  My faith tells me that we will be rewarded in the next life and reunited with those whom we love."

The Doctor collected himself and sat up, staring forward.  "You know I do not believe that."

"I know it," said Jacob.  "But that does not make it less true.  'Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.'  You will endure, and do not lose hope.  Have you ever been wrong?"

"I am not wrong about this."  His gaze was direct, challenging, angry. 

"About the next world, Doctor, or about seeing Rose again?"  The Doctor studied the sky, cerulean blue through the tops of the trees.  "When you came here with her, had you not made up your mind that we would both despise you for what you did in the War?"

"Yes," said the Doctor, quietly.

"You were wrong," Jacob said sternly.  "You are not infallible.  We have more faith in you than you have in yourself.  Do not let it be misplaced."

--

The cottage stood empty and silent, unprepared for a visitor.  The Doctor stood inside the main room and let his gaze fall first on the cold fireplace, then the table, with the worn volume of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe still stacked underneath with some other books, and then the single bed, made neatly with the folded down blanket at its foot.  He brought in some wood from the back and made a fire, holding his hands out in front to warm them.

He sat for a time in the lone chair.  The fire sparked occasionally and cast an orange, ever-shifting glow into the room.  As the sun outside set, the shadows lengthened, deepening into dusk, and he heard the tolling of the bells calling the monks for Vespers.  He closed his eyes, again feeling the envy for those with faith to sustain them through the dark days like this one, and the ones to come.

When the shadows of sunset had become true night, he stood and unfolded the blanket across the bed, turning back the corner to expose the sheet beneath.  He then shrugged off his coat, hanging it precisely on the back of the chair, then added his jacket.  He removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and folded them both into a neat pile on the chair.  Trainers and socks were next.  Socks.  Oh, Rose.  Next came his trousers, and he stood bare in the room where he had first made himself bare in spirit to her, where he had first made love to her.

He slipped into the bed where she was not and pulled the blanket over himself, turning onto his side and scooting over to leave room for her.  He laid his head on the pillow and let his eyes drift closed.  He had been happy here, for a brief time.  Is it worth it? she had asked, turned to face him in this very bed, her eyes wide and full of love for him, and not a little fear.

"Yes," said the Doctor, as he had before.  And, wondering at a strange sensation, a fluttering in the back of his mind and deep in his hearts, inexplicably, he slept.

--

In the pink light of dawn, the Doctor trudged down to the path to find breakfast and Jacob, waiting for him after morning prayers.  They ate, with the Doctor putting porridge in his mouth but not tasting it, and then walked together in silence.  If Jacob thought it strange that the Doctor helped him tend chickens and gather eggs, he did not comment upon it, only gave terse directions on the care of the chirping chicks and the feeding of their elders.  They washed up afterwards, joined the community for prayers (or, rather, the Doctor waited studiously outside while Jacob prayed with the others) and another meal.  After, the Doctor followed Jacob on his rounds, tending camellias under the watchful eye of the monk, touching a pocket in his coat once with a lost, far-away look in his eye.

They had tea at the stone table in the mid-afternoon.  Jacob put his teacup down with a sigh and looked fondly at his friend.

"Doctor," he said, "I want to tell you how proud I am of you."  The Doctor looked up with an expression of complete bewilderment on his freckled face, setting down his teacup and tugging nervously on his earlobe.  "I mean it.  I am proud of you," repeated Jacob.  "In two visits, I have seen you go from guilt-ridden and silent, carrying the load of all the worlds on your shoulders, to guarded and closed, to falling in love and being loved in return."  The Doctor closed his eyes against the last words.  "I do not mean to cause you pain, Doctor.  I only mean to observe that you have grown, and changed, and adapted, all at the prodding of those who love you, and have asked for so little in return."

"So little," said the Doctor, without mirth.  "Rose -- I let her in only to lose her.  You -- my friend, I will lose you, too."

"Yes," Jacob said kindly.  "It is the way of things, and unavoidable.  But what you have done is to acknowledge that the time you have with us is worth the price, in the end.  That we are worth loving and losing."  He reached across and rested his hand across the Doctor's, stilling his friend's nervous fiddling with his saucer.  "I thank you for that, and bless you for it."

The Doctor smiled the tiniest of smiles, the first since he had stepped from the TARDIS the day before.

"You have made compromises for our sake," continued Jacob, his tone becoming stronger.  "I will compromise as well, for yours."  He took a breath and then began stroking his beard in careful thought.  "Mind you," he warned, "you'll have to do it here."

"Do what?"

"Your exam, or whatever it is you've always wanted to do," Jacob replied evenly, with the expression facing execution.

At that, the Doctor's face lit up in a genuine smile.  "Oh, you'll have to come to the medical bay in the TARDIS," he blurted out.  "I have all my supplies there."

"Go and fetch them then," said Jacob.  "It's here, or nowhere at all."  He gave the Doctor a stern look that brooked no argument, and without another word, the Doctor hopped up and fairly ran back to his ship.

Jacob drank his tea and waited.

When the Doctor returned, carrying a burgeoning armful of wires and gadgets, Jacob's expression became considerably more dubious.  "What in heaven's name are you going to do to me?" he asked with trepidation.  "I said you could do an exam, not rebuild me completely."

"No fear," said the Doctor, depositing his burden on the table and making a few careful selections.  "I just didn't want to have to make a return trip.  Thought you might change your mind if I let you."  He grinned.

Jacob grinned back, or at least, he pulled his lips back from his teeth and pointed his mouth at the Doctor.  "Go on, then.  Do your worst."

"Stand up."  Jacob did so, and the Doctor put on his glasses, pulled out a white, plastic scanner with a display on one end, and aimed it carefully at Jacob, moving it up and down and reading the display avidly.  "Ah," he said, nodding seriously.

"You know why I'm doing this, don't you?"

The Doctor pulled his gaze away from the scanner and back to Jacob's face.  "Why is that?"

"Because I've prayed a great deal, and I've come to an inexorable conclusion," said the monk.  He drew himself up as high as his stooped back would allow.  "You need me, old friend.  The universe needs you and, for whatever reason, you are my responsibility."  He sighed.  "We must all face our trials and tribulations."  He eyed the scanner with considerable suspicion.  "Mine, it seems, is to allow such ... machinery ... upon my person."

"I'm not even touching you with it," protested the Doctor.  "Here, it's completely painless, see?"  He waved the scanner at himself and showed Jacob the display.

"A lot of gibberish."

"Au contraire, mon frère, it's telling me that I'm in perfect health.  You," he waved the scanner at Jacob again, "have several small blockages in your coronary arteries, and the linings of your lungs have lost a great deal of their natural flexibility.  You've also got some fluid built up around your heart.  That's why you get out of breath, and tired, and have those episodes."

"How long do I have?" asked Jacob quietly.

"Oh, who knows?" said the Doctor, too casually.  "But this, I can fix."  He grinned.  "You'll be right as rain.  That all right?"

"Yes," said Jacob with another pained sigh.  "As I said, do your worst."

Over the next few moments, the Doctor whirled around Jacob, fiddling with one gadget or another, all of which the monk eyed with the same suspicion as the scanner.  In the end, the Doctor said, "This will be cold, but it won't hurt a bit.  Be still," and held a pressurized syringe to Jacob's chest.  There was a slight, muffled pop, and Jacob sat down hard on the bench and glared at the Doctor.  Perhaps, thought the Doctor, it's not a good idea after all to lie to a monk.

"Won't hurt a bit," muttered Jacob, rubbing his chest.  "Hmm.  I think your bedside manner needs some work.  What next?"

"That's it," said the Doctor, flopping down on the bench beside Jacob.  "How do you feel?"

Jacob sucked in a breath and blew it out thoughtfully.  He then beamed at the Doctor.  "I feel healthy as a horse."

"As two horses," said the Doctor, smiling.  "You're still just as old as you were, well, old for you, anyway, but your cardiovascular system is several decades younger."

"In that case," said Jacob, "I'll thank you to take that mess off my table."  The Doctor scooped it up, returned it to the TARDIS, and was back in a flash.

 

As they walked toward the main clearing, Jacob delivered some astonishing news in a soft tone.  "You can do the exams on a regular basis now."

"Oh," said the Doctor, pleased.  "Are you coming with me, then?"

Jacob laughed and shook his head.  "No.  I will never leave this place.  You, however, seem to have the ability to pop back whenever you like."

"One of these days," said the Doctor, "I will come back and you will be gone."  His face fell and he looked away.  "If I stay away, you're still alive."

"Ah," said Jacob, and nodded to himself.  "A great mystery solved.  This is why you don't go back for your companions, isn't it?  If you don't look back, don't visit, they are hale and hearty and in limbo, and eternally young.  Life, Doctor, is just not that simple.  You will come back here, because you can't seem to stay away."  He squeezed the other man's arm.  "I will be your companion in exile, if you want.  You can travel the whole of space and time, serving the universe as you always have, and come back here when you're done.  After all," Jacob chuckled, "if you can learn to land better, you can arrive here five seconds after you last left.  We can muddle on like that for quite some time, I'd expect."

The Doctor looked at him in wonder.  "We could, rather," he said, and was surprised at how oddly good the idea felt.  Some constancy in an inconstant life.

"Then it's settled," said Jacob with finality.  "Go play with the chickens while I'm at services."

"What, don't you want me to come?"  Jacob's astonishment straightened out the laugh lines on his face, and the Doctor laughed in earnest.  "No, no, no, sorry, I'm joking.  I'll just," he gestured to the bench, "be waiting right here when you get out."

And, he was.

Comments

[ivydoor.livejournal.com]

I've told you this before, but this was gorgeous. I've loved every chapter. No exceptions.

I'm looking forward to the sequel. I know it's going to be awesome ;)

Now I've gotta find a box of tissues.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Here, you can share mine. ::sniff::

[blaidd-wolf.livejournal.com]

Beautiful, amazing, brilliant. This has been one of the greatest, most original stories ever. :) My heart aches for the Doctor. :(
Waiting for the sequel ^_^

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Thank you, thank you. I'm touched. Sequel is in the works, absolutely.

[misssara11.livejournal.com]

I cried, I laughed, I did both at the same time. Now, I have to ask, is it a proper sequel and the story of Nine after the war? Or are they the same thing? Please be the first. I'll read either way because I love Jacob and want a Jacob of my own to talk to.

Well done indeed.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I will write two stories. One is the story of Jacob and Nine, which I have contemplated but have not started. The other is the next project, the immediate aftermath of this story for both the Doctor and Rose, and of course, Jacob in his role as companion in exile.

[likethesun.livejournal.com]

I'm sad to see this end, but just know I absolutely loved every word of it :) Such a unique story, that had me captivated right to the end. And I really like how you ended things. Sad, but not too depressing. I am very much looking forward to the sequel!

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

There had to be hope in the end, even if it was the inevitable ending. Thanks for reading and commenting ...

[platypus]

Dear God, people actually survived reading this to comment? I'm not sure I did. You've struck this emotional note that's just... just... lkasjfliajsfalejf. I'll find some words later. Got a dictionary around somewhere, I'm sure.

I'm about halfway through the commenty thing -- well, I was about halfway through the commenty thing. Now I have to go back and get rid of all the questions that have become redundant. And wrench my soul back into place.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I survived. Mostly. With soul definitely wrenched.

[sideways.livejournal.com]

Doomsday. I swear, it kills me any time - any place. Even though I know that there's gonna be a sequel, it still kills me. I always picture his face in the Runaway Bride and it's just, like, ugh. :[ Makes me so sad.

But, I loved this story so much. I'm not religious, not at all, but I still liked this immensely, because I felt I could relate to the Doctor's feelings on the whole subject. You were able to take such a complicated thing like religion, and write about it so that it wasn't being shoved down people's throats. It was just a really good setting for them to connect. And the Doctor/Rose was so spot on - really enjoyed the banter and the kissing and the cuddling. Fantastic.

Really can't wait for the sequel - it's gonna be great, I know this. More Jacob. More monastery smut, yes? ;D

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I know, I know. He's just so lost, and broken, and has to put it aside to save the world ... again.

As I've said, I'm not religious, but I share the Doctor's envy of those with a deep faith. I don't believe, but there's something so alluring about seeing the steadfast faith of others and the comfort. I would like to believe.

[wendymr.livejournal.com]

ARGH!!! You went and included Doomsday after all! :(

No comment.

This, though, is so very insightful:
"One of these days," said the Doctor, "I will come back and you will be gone." His face fell and he looked away. "If I stay away, you're still alive."

"Ah," said Jacob, and nodded to himself. "A great mystery solved. This is why you don't go back for your companions, isn't it? If you don't look back, don't visit, they are hale and hearty and in limbo, and eternally young.

Yes, that's exactly why he never goes back, never says goodbye :(

I'm glad that Jacob let the Doctor fix him up, though.

Looking forward to the sequel but still muttering and grumbling about bloody Doomsday.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I did, I did. I felt I had to, even if it broke my heart, too.

[auntiesuze.livejournal.com]

*sniffle* I knew the epilogue would be post-Doomsday. Damn. This has been a really wonderful story. In addition to the usual elements that I love (love n' smut! yea!), I really enjoyed the spiritual aspects. I myself would go completely stir crazy in that environment, but the sense of calm routine and peace obviously draws even the Doctor. Definitely a wonderful environment to heal. I can't wait for the sequel!

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

It's odd. I'm as frenetic in my normal life as the next girl but my time at a monastery that was the foundation for this one was profoundly moving and peaceful in a way I can't articulate fully.

[dark-aegis.livejournal.com]

*sob, searches for tissues, blows her nose a few times and returns* That was gorgeous. Heart-wrenchingly gorgeous.

Even though I'm repeating Wendy (darn her for hitting 'post' before me ;)), I've got to quote this back to you:

"One of these days," said the Doctor, "I will come back and you will be gone." His face fell and he looked away. "If I stay away, you're still alive."

"Ah," said Jacob, and nodded to himself. "A great mystery solved. This is why you don't go back for your companions, isn't it? If you don't look back, don't visit, they are hale and hearty and in limbo, and eternally young.

Yes. Exactly. No truer words have ever been said about the Doctor. He doesn't want to look back.

Fix this soon, please. I really look forward to your next offering. Thank you so much for taking me on such a roller coaster ride of emotions. I adored every word.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I'm again so flattered by your praise -- thank you.

I don't blame the Doctor. In a way, he sees the limbo of never going back as eternal life for his companions, where he never has to really say goodbye or deal with loss. There's always a chance he'd run into someone again (e.g. Sarah Jane) and see their life full and complete. Poor man. It's a sad existence but a very reasonable self-defense mechanism.

I am writing and working, no worries.

[katesutton.livejournal.com]

*sob* Seriously. I don't care if it makes me a sappy, hopeless shipper who Doesn't Get It, I would happily watch Rose Tyler stay in the TARDIS forever. Anyway. This was absolutely beautiful. And hopeful, in spite of everything. Even though it isn't canon, I will be imagining that there is someone like Jacob to help the Doctor. Thank you for sharing this story.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I'm right there with you, even if that makes me a sappy, hopeless shipper too.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

::thrusts tissues at you::

I won't spoil the sequel ... but I can't leave this as it is, either.

[altorogue.livejournal.com]

I cannot say how much I loved loved loved this. Beautiful is the best term I can give to describe this.

And for some reason, the name Jacob is just jumping out at me today. Your Jacob is so real, and human, and just what the doctor needs. I eagerly anticipate anything coming next!

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I love Jacob, too. I think he'll take care of the Doctor for a good, long while to come.

[roquentine.livejournal.com]

"...But what you have done is to acknowledge that the time you have with us is worth the price, in the end. That we are worth loving and losing."

Just in case you were wondering the exact line when the lump formed in my throat and my eyes welled up. For the first time, anyway. :)

Fantastic, all of it. Thank you so much for writing and sharing.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

::sniffs:: You're welcome.

[qtrhorserider.livejournal.com]

This has been so beautiful in so many ways and on so many levels. Thanks for sharing the journey.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

You're so welcome. Thanks for coming along.

[scarfman]

I don't ordinarily leave comments that only say, "I liked it," but you asked.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I did ... and thanks. (Feedback junkie, me.)

[matt1969.livejournal.com]

Okay, I need a tissue, cos this has me crying. I've loved reading every moment of this story. It's great as a stand-alone, but I'm thriled to hear there will be a sequel.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

::hands you a tissue::

I seem to be running short of those, actually.

[haelij.livejournal.com]

A beautiful ending to a beautiful story. In spite of the doomsday-angst and such, I think it was really important that you included it, that you went there. You handled the issue beautifully. It's absolutely in keeping with the rest of the story - of course he would go to Jacob. And of course Jacob's wisdom and love would help him to heal.

This is absolutely one of my very favorites, for so many reasons. And I'm totally looking forward to prequel/sequels! :-D

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I think it was part of the story to be told, that they have to cope with the separation. How they both react to that is a tale to be told another day, and will be.

[screwed-reality.livejournal.com]

I've read thisb since the first chapter, and I have to say that this is one of the most beautifully written fics I've read in a long time. Made me tear up and sniffle while I was reading because it made me remember the last scene in Doomsday.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I shouldn't be so pleased to have made people cry, but I am. As I said, it made me cry, too.

[np-complete.livejournal.com]

Lovely, just as the rest of it was.

I was thinking about what made this story so very different from so many others, and one of the things I perceived was that you caught the Doctor in the act of feeling. Oh, he goes through great revolutions of feelings in other stories, but usually we're just told about it. Here, we were shown. What he was feeling was demonstrated by his actions, by what he notices and what others notice about him, by the words he says and by the echo in the silence between breaths of all the things he doesn't say. I feel as if we were shown the Doctor in the act of -- please pardon the expression -- being human.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Wow. I am so moved by that statement and what an incredible compliment it is. To quote myself from another story (not in this continuity at all): Instead she told him in countless ways with her movements, her actions, her eyes, and listened with her whole self for the responses he gave in the same way. It was enough. To have that telling be apparent and believable to you is a success I am inordinately pleased about.

[measi.livejournal.com]

Absolutely beautiful. I was dreading the end of this story, knowing that it was all leading toward Doomsday, but it's such a beautiful ending and fits the story wonderfully.

I'm also looking forward to the sequel. Mind if I add you as a friend? :)

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Please feel free to friend me, and anyone else who's commented, absolutely.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

I'm not fine with the Doctor losing Rose ... but it was inevitable, as much as they and I didn't want it to happen. Jacob makes me happy, and as I've said all along, it would be so horrible to have the Doctor in particular make this emotional journey and grow up (in a way) and then reject it all to fall apart in the end. He has to carry on, like it or not.

Eventually I will get to the story of Nine and Jacob, but I am not there yet. First things first. :)

[larielromeniel.livejournal.com]

Ohhhh. This is one of the rare fics that has made me cry and resonated right into my very soul.

You make me want to go and fix Doomsday all over again.

I'm so glad you decided to let Jacob live. I think he's going to be very very good for the Doctor.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Jacob wouldn't let me kill him off in the early going, which was my stated intent. He's apparently smarter than I am and saw what he needed to do.

I made a lot of people cry, including myself. ::hands you tissues:: Sorry. It felt like a good cry to me.

[spastasmagoria.livejournal.com]

yeah. that made me kinda sniffly too. but it's not an ending without hope. I like that.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

As I've said ... there had to be hope. The whole story is about hope and a journey of development for the Doctor ... in the end, without hope, the whole journey is meaningless.

[jo-mako.livejournal.com]

I am gonna favourite this one over at teaspoon. I damn near bawled reading this last piece and have enjoyed this fic as a whole immensely! Yer right, Jacob is infectious...and this fic as a whole was beautifully done.!

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I'm posting a bit behind at Teaspoon (chapter nineteen just went up) but it'll be there before the end of the weekend.

[karenor.livejournal.com]

this was all so sad, but this made me properly tear-fallin' weepy:

He slipped into the bed where she was not and pulled the blanket over himself, turning onto his side and scooting over to leave room for her.

gah. go for the gut!

but it was so beautiful. and with just that bit of hope that we need to. i'm sad to see it end. but excited for the sequel.

[kalleah.livejournal.com]

Me, too. The visual of him stripping physically naked and crawling into bed had been with me for a long time, and I'm pleased with how it came out. ::sniffs along with you::