Author's Note: Hi everyone! I'm fairly new to the wonderful world of Doctor Who fanfiction so I decided to start writing one. It's based on Rose's life in the parallel universe with the Meta-Crisis Doctor, set just after The Journey's End. It's probably not that original but I'd love to know what you guys think! I hope I can do the character's justice!
Synopsis: He's not you... but who's to say he's not better? Rose Tyler falls in love with the same man twice, just when he's in two separate bodies.
Disclaimer: All belongs to the BBC, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the BBC. If I was the BBC, I wouldn't have broke my heart, twice, when the Doctor and Rose had to say goodbye, twice. The only thing that's mine is the plot bunny, and the occasional few characters. No profit is to be made from this fanfiction.
He's not you
Chapter 1 : Handy
I watch, motionless, as the TARDIS fades away for the last time. In it, she carries my heart. The Doctor may be stood here next to me, his hand wrapped tightly around my own, but we both know it's never going to be the same. He isn't The Doctor. He's not my Doctor. He's a clone, a copy, a fake. I'm in love with The Doctor. The real Doctor. The Doctor I can never see again for as long as I shall live. I'm stuck here on this parallel universe with a double; a human, one-hearted Doctor who I can grow old with. He'll never regenerate, he'll stay the same old Doctor for the rest of his life. But it's not the same.
"It'll be okay, you know."
I remove my eyes from the empty space where the TARDIS was seconds earlier, and turn to face The Doctor - if I can even bare calling him that. I smile weakly at him, gracefully, as I let a single tear cascade down the length of my face. He's gone. The Doctor's gone and we never even got the chance to say goodbye... I was too busy kissing his replacement to realise he'd left. He must think he meant nothing to me at all.
"He understands," says The Doctor firmly, catching my eyes in his own as I bring up my spare hand to wipe away the tear.
"What...does..." I choke on my owns words; the lump in throat suppresses my voice as more moisture builds up in my tear ducks. "What does he understand?"
"Why you didn't say goodbye," The Doctor replies, not once removing his eyes from mine. I crease my brow. He understands. "I guess neither of you would be able to deal with saying it a second time… not that you actually said goodbye the last time… but you would of I'm sure… you know, if the connection hadn't have cut off before… you know, he said it."
I giggle inwardly. He's still the same old Doctor, even if he isn't original - he can still dig himself into holes he can't get out of.
"It?"I question, though I'm hoping, deep down, I know what he's about to say.
"When I... said what..." His voice faltered. It's like it pained him to say it. The Doctor had told me that whatever he feels, this Doctor will too. It's only now that the reality of everything has finally dawned on me. "When I said what he was thinking all along."
"Which was?"
I remove my hand from his reluctantly, instantly missing his warmth and comfort.
"He loves you." I gasp, partly through the shock and partly because those three, all important words had never escaped his lips. It didn't sound the same coming from this Doctor. "I love you," he added, almost correcting himself.
I close my eyes. He never got the chance to say it back, and he never will. My heart gets increasingly more heavy as I feel my eyes well up, again. I never knew I could be so weak.
"We should get back," I suddenly announce.
It's a distraction, but it works. Slowly, side-by-side, The Doctor and I start our journey back up towards Mum on the other end of the beach. Her sympathetic glances burn into me. She can see that I'm hurting - she always can - but, I've never felt so wounded in my whole entire life.
"You know, if it hurts too much, you don't have to call me The Doctor," the man to my right offers, understanding me yet again. He must be psychic; he can read my mind effortlessly and it's beginning to freak me out.
I stop walking and turn to face at him for a second. He's deadly serious, the sincerity in his voice is seeping out from his face.
"Then what do I call you?"
We continue our journey down the beach as the harsh breeze hits my face, blowing my hair in all directions, the coolness of the air matching my insides; raw. I feel empty, as if a huge chunk of my heart has been scooped out of my chest and transported into some faraway, distant land. In some ways, that's technically true.
"Call me anything you want," The Doctor calls over the loud whistle of the wind.
The sea beside us is now rough. The waves clash onto the shore below in an angry rage of blues, greys and greens. It's like the land is trying to tell me something; this isn't right Sea salt dances up my nostrils and sits there. I decide in an instant that I hate beaches even more than I ever did before. I never want to visit one again, especially not Bad Wolf Bay. There's far too many memories here that I never want to relive again. But, sadly, I have to live with the consequences of these memories for the rest of my life.
"I have no idea!" I call back, the wind becoming more fierce; lashing into our faces as it buzzes irritability inside my ears.
"Handy!" The Doctor exclaims, almost excitably. I crease up my brow in confusion, again; I see he's still as spontaneous as ever...
"What's handy!?" I question above the lashing of the waves. We're only a few feet away from Mum, and I smile at her falsely from where I'm stood. She's fooled by my façade, I prefer it that way too.
"Me!" The Doctor roars, a bright smile adorning his features. As much as I want to, I can't return it. My face aches too much to smile so wide. "I'm Handy!"
"Aren't you just," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Handy for just about nothing," I mentally add to myself.
"What?" he chuckles flawlessly, flashing my mum his cheeky signature grin as we come into contact with her. If only it was his signature grin...
"Everything alright?" Mum questions, placing a comforting hand of support to my arm.
"It's fine," I lie, topping it off with a faint, forced smile.
Somehow, things have gotten calmer now. The waves that were once choppy, calmed. The howling of the wind, stalled. I can hear straight, smell straight, think straight... I think I preferred it before with all my senses blocked out...
"Well, I don't believe you," replies Mum sharply, searching my face for signs of pain. She shouldn't even have to. It's written all over my face.
"Oh god, Mum..." I cry and suddenly, the tears begin to stream; smearing my mascara, leaving a trail of red blotches down my face. I end up chocking on my own breath. I'm sobbing, and I feel sick right down to the pit of my stomach.
"Come here sweetheart," softens Mum as I throw my arms around her smaller body and rest her head on her shoulder.
Now the tears have come, I fear they're never going to stop. Mum instantly responds to my actions and curls her arms around my back, rubbing comforting circles with her palm onto the leather material of my jacket. It makes me feel worse; her arms aren't as welcoming as The Doctor's. I cry louder at the thought of him, my tears staining her pale blue jumper. Under any other circumstances, she would've killed me for doing that. She doesn't care though right now. All she cares about is me.
"Sh, Rosie. That's it, let it all out," she encourages so I do. I sob, and I sob, and I sob until I can't physically cry anymore. My chest falls and rises rapidly through the dramatic change in my breathing pattern. I'm surprised I can actually remember how to breathe after everything that's just happened. My oxygen has left me, so how can I still breathe?
Reluctantly, after God knows how long, I pull away from my mother's embrace and wipe away my tears with the back of my hand. I look a state, I'm certain. And this blasted wind is doing nothing to help. My hair's all puffed up and frizzy.
"Rose?"
I turn around to face The Doctor. The Doctor's double. His eyes look exactly how I feel; numb. I'd almost forgotten about him. What kind of person does that make me?
"Are you ok?" he questions stupidly, instantly regretting it. He already knows the answer and just nods. "Everything'll be fine... eventually."
"And you know this how!?" I snap viciously. I didn't mean for it to come out so sharp. I cast a glance back up at him and feel even worse. He cowers back slightly, stunned by my sudden outburst, and begins to run his fingers through his hair.
"I'm part-human, part-timelord," he reminds me. "I may not regenerate, I may only have one heart, but I can still see the universe. The past, the present, the future. It's still all inside my head. Our future is a lot brighter than you think."
"Oh, really?"
Again, I spit poison unwillingly off my tongue. I can't control myself. I'm not angry at him personally, of course not. I'm angry at the injustice of life and how unfair things have turned out. It wasn't meant to be this way; I promised him forever and forever was what we could've had. The real Doctor and I would've travelled the universe until the end of time; if only we'd have been given the chance...
"Rose, darling."
I barely register it as Mum sneaks up behind me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
"We best be getting off home," she says. "Your Dad'll only be able to cope with Tony for so long, and seeing as though The Doctor felt the need to drop us off in bleeding Norway, we've got a long journey ahead of us."
A slight giggle escapes my lips. The good, old Doctor; his judgement's as impeccable as ever.
"I'm sorry on his behalf," the other Doctor butts in, his arms held up high in the air as a form of surrender. I bat them down playfully and receive a look of confusion. My moods are for ever changing; it's time for this Doctor to get used to it.
"Let's get going then..." I sigh. What's the point in sticking around? Ghosts haunt me on his beach and although their spirits may never leave my body, their presence is at it's strongest here. Bad Wolf Bay. My bay.
"Rose," The Doctor repeats. I look up at him expectantly. His hunched frame towers over me; he looks tired, and worn out. In need of a hug, if you ask me.
"Yeah?"
"I'm still The Doctor, aren't I? Your Doctor?" he asks quietly. I know he's afraid of the answer. "You do want me here, don't you? Because if you don't, then that's fine. Rose Tyler, you're a big girl now and you don't need me, or anybody else for that matter to to be here and hold your hand. I can just... leave. If that's what you want, I'll do it. For you."
His words reach out and touch my heart. He may not be my Doctor, he may not be the man I fell in love with, but he's the same as him through and through. The only difference is, I'm scared of letting this one in.
"So?"
He waits for an answer, but I know I can't give him one. I can't lie; he's not my Doctor, but that doesn't mean I don't want him around. Defeatedly, I throw my arms around his neck as I bury my head into his chest. He gives off the same scent. Subtle cologne messes with my senses; it's him, alright. He even feels the same.
"Thank you," he whispers into my hair as his arms snake around my waist; holding me closer, tighter, as if he never wants to let go.
I simply smile in response as I draw myself away. This smile isn't forced or put on, it's full of emotion. Emotion for him. Not even The Doctor could understand me like this. I'm amazed, thrilled, and slightly scared all at the same time.
"Are you ready then?" asks Mum, her eyes drifting between the two of us. It's like she doesn't know where to look.
"Yep!" replies The Doctor, taking my hand in his own.
It feels cold yet utterly satisfying. I give his hand a quick squeeze of reassurance, yet I'm not sure who I'm trying to reassure more. I still know this isn't right but I suppose I've got to make the most of it; I haven't got much else.
We begin our walk back up to land. Mum leads the way, mentally arranging plans on how on earth we're suppose to get back home. Trust The Doctor to leave us in Norway. He really doesn't think these things through...
"You know what I said before about 'being' handy?" The clone Doctor disturbs my thoughts. It seems whenever I think of The real Doctor, he drags me back down to earth. I don't have him anymore; I need a reminder of that every so often.
"Yeah..." I reply, with a nod. I'd love to see where this was going.
"Well I meant that you can call me Handy," he says. "Instead of The Doctor, my name could be Handy. Seeing as though I evolved from one."
I laugh freely. It took me a while to catch up... Handy? That's just laughable, but so's this whole situation.
"Yeah. Yeah! Alright then. Handy it is!" I beam.
I don't know where my sudden change in attitude has come from. Probably from Handy. He calms me in a way that even The Doctor couldn't. He knows how I'm feeling unlike anybody else ever has. Maybe life without The Doctor isn't going to be as hard as it seems. I have Handy, and he's got to be handy for something, surely.