Note: Evy is the Doctor's daughter, but he doesn't know that. That's the 'secret' that he can tell she's hiding. Also, Evy is sixteen, as I've stated. She left Pete's world when she was fourteen, with Rose, and the Dimension Cannon, not being entirely perfect, landed them in Rose's world around the time the Doctor first starts to travel with Martha. So, while Evy should only be about two or three in this fic, she's actually a teen.
Her name is Evy, he reminds himself. She's not Rose, she doesn't know Rose, doesn't know of Rose.
He repeats this in the back of his mind, trying to remember it as he fiddles with the TARDIS console. The minor repair was done an hour ago, but he kept on, welcoming the distraction that his beloved ship provided.
Evy has been part of his little group for almost eight hours now, and already she's unintentionally dug up things he'd rather forget.
He, Martha and Jack had been returning to the TARDIS, when they'd found her there, leaning against the wall next to the police box in clothes probably more appropriate for a street walker than a sixteen year old teen. He'd been startled to see her there, at first, simply because she'd known enough about him and the TARDIS to recognize the blue box, and said as much. But then she'd stepped into the light and he'd been shocked; he'd cursed the universe and all of time for delivering him something so painful it could scarcely be imagined.
She looked so much like his Rose; except for the dark hair and blue eyes, this girl could have been her twin or sister. He'd mistaken her for Rose, at first, and then realized the truth, a few seconds after she introduced herself as Evy.
He had mentally shaken himself and forced himself to pick out the differences, too make himself realize that this is NOT his Rose. Evy wore no eyeliner, despite her revealing attire, and only the slightest touch of mascara. She had been dressed in revealing clothes Rose would never have glanced at. Her hair is long and naturally black, not peroxide blonde, and her eyes are a startling shade of blue.
No, she was not his Rose. He'd convinced himself, and managed to bury and hide his pain enough that she and his Companions don't notice.
He knew she was lying when she said she was from UNIT- the slight hesitation gave her away. And she has a secret; she chose her words carefully when introducing herself, as if afraid to let something slip. But he didn't pry. She offered her help; he took it.
Martha'd suggested she change out of her clubbing outfit after seeing the hungry glances some of the men on the street gave her, and while she'd changed, he'd managed to gain control of himself, and stop thinking of Rose and what he'd lost.
He and his group had continued on their way, now with Evy in tow, and tracked the strange energy signal that they'd been following down, lost it, and helped Jack and Torchwood out with a few rift items as a favor. Pretty easy- he was a genius after all.
And then he'd realized how much help Evy had been. He'd extended the offer to travel with him, and she'd accepted. Somehow he had forgotten the fact that she was only sixteen until after she'd said yes, and then he was stuck.
They'd all piled into the TARDIS, and he'd made her go to bed. She was a minor. Martha had questioned Evy's inclusion, and he'd shrugged her questions off. He couldn't rightly say himself why he'd invited her himself, other than the good feeling he'd had about her. Then Martha had said good night, and gone to bed herself, leaving him alone with the TARDIS.
And that was when all the times he'd unconsciously made a connection between her and Rose during the day came crashing down on him.
Her smile, her caring, her bravery, and her determination - so much like the pink and yellow shop girl he'd first invited to come with him. And then there were the qualities Rose had displayed after she'd traveled with him for a while, brought to the fore in this girl- her intelligence, her insight, her eagerness to travel. And that hurt.
It was if the universe had forced on him everything he'd loved about Rose in another girl who wasn't the one he'd fallen in love with. A girl so similar to the woman he'd loved and lost that he couldn't help but see that woman in her.
So he'd turned to his ship as he always did; run away from the problem like he always did. And that's why he's standing here while the others sleep, repeating the words he's sure will become his mantra for as long as his newest and youngest companion travels with him.
Her name is Evy, not Rose. Evy, not Rose.