Author's Note: Ok, first of all I should specify that this story is set slightly before The Day of The Doctor. Secondly, I confess that I'm not entirely satisfied with how it turned out, I feel like it doesn't make too much sense, but for some reason I couldn't change anything, so... here it is. Thank you and enjoy. I hope you don't hate it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.


Forget Me Not

It is one of those sleepless nights inside the TARDIS, one of those nights that is a night only for the Doctor, because when Clara came in it was plain daylight outside. She isn't there, Clara, she is somewhere inside the TARDIS, but not there with him. Exploring, that's what she calls it. There is so much inside the TARDIS, so many mysteries worth looking into, that it's almost a pity to step outside to see the universe. That is what she feels like, sometimes, and that night is one of those times. And he thinks she's right. Sometimes you just feel compelled to wander around and wait for the TARDIS to show you something incredible.

The Doctor is in a corridor when he hears the sound of footsteps. At first he thinks it's Clara looking for him, but when he turns around he doesn't see her. He doesn't see anyone. All he can do is catch a glimpse, register a color, one that reminds him of someone he is not supposed to think about. He turns around again and again, but the more he tries to see, the more the vision slips away.

"Stop it!" He yells in frustration "Who are you?"

"Have you forgotten me already?" The words come from behind him, but this time she doesn't run and when he turns around she faces him. For a moment he forgets how to breathe as he looks at the vision with a mixture of awe and fear and longing and love.

"You cannot be here, how can you be here?" He whispers in a shaky voice.

"I'm not really here." She says with a small, sad smile "I'm not really me. Not the one you remember... Or the one you forgot."

"What does that even mean? Is this real? Is this a trick, am I hallucinating?" He tries to prove a point by touching her face, expecting his hand to pass through her. But it doesn't.

"Who are you?" He asks, even if he knows perfectly well who she is, or at least, who she resembles. "What are you?" Her eyes flash golden and he takes a step back, letting his hand fall back at his side.

"I'm the Bad Wolf." He reminds himself that he has to breathe while he looks at her, confused. She stares back at him and she softens, almost smiling.

"How can you be here?" He asks again, slowly. He hesitates, then he changes the question. "Is she in there somewhere?"

"Who?" He takes a deep breath as if to muster his courage and then the name he hasn't dared to speak in centuries leaves his lips.

"Rose..." This time she smiles, a sad, loving smile. She takes a step closer to him and strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers.

"Why else would I be here?" He stares at her, studies her, trying to understand. He takes her hand in his and kisses her palm, his eyes closed. He looks like he is in pain.

"But you are not her." He murmurs. "You are not my Rose." He looks back at her, sad and maybe even a little disappointed, but he doesn't let go of her hand.

"Oh Doctor..." He shivers, but tries to hide it from her. "I never was..." She says, shaking her head. Her blonde hair follows her movement and he tries not to look, to resist the urge to touch it the way he would have done when he was someone else. He knows she's right, she was never properly his. He's never looked at her with green eyes before. Blue ones, yes. Brown ones, too, and maybe a little more than he was ever supposed to. But this is the first time he looks at her with green eyes and the thought only hits him now.

"Why are you here?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper. She steps closer and he can feel the heat irradiating from her body, a very real body, physically present. He tries not to think of how close they are.

"Time's almost up." She says and he's not sure whether she's talking to him or to herself. Then, before he realizes it she has crossed what little distance remained between them, her lips firmly pressed to his. He reacts the way his other selves would have reacted and puts one arm around her waist, pulling her even closer, while his other hand goes back to her cheek. She tastes of time and spring, the same taste she had had when he had first kissed her, so long ago on Satellite Five. In a corner of his mind he asks himself how he can remember that, when most of the sensations of his other selves have slipped away in all those years. His hearts beat faster and faster as his arms and lips try to seal her close to him, never to let her go, never again. He feels he won't survive loosing her again... loosing her as well. She slowly breaks the kiss but doesn't leave, her golden eyes closed.

"I came to say goodbye..." She whispers on his lips and in that moment she really sounds like Rose "My Doctor..." He tries to say something, but the words don't come out. She places one last, soft kiss on his lips then slowly steps away. He doesn't stop her, there is nothing he can do except looking at her with haunted eyes. She smiles the same sweet smile that Rose had, then fades away, like he did on that beach so many years ago.

He doesn't know how long he stands alone in that corridor, his hearts lost in places he had sworn he would close off forever, before he hears Clara's footsteps.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" She asks. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep before giving her a reassuring, fake smile.

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?" She stares at him, unconvinced. She knows something is not right, but she also knows that asking is useless when he doesn't want to answer.

"I thought I heard some noises...were you talking to someone?" She tries nonetheless. He turns away and starts to walk, trying to hide the smile fading from his lips and the pain in his eyes.

"It's nothing..." He says. "It's just a wolf..."