A/N: Takes place when the 11th Doctor is rewinding through time at the end of 'The Big Bang'. I figured that there could have been a little gap between his telling the story to young Amy and Amy remembering him back into existence at her wedding. I was also curious how the 11th Doctor would encounter past regenerations and how being erased from reality would affect the 10th Doctor metacrisis. Enjoy!
The Doctor woke up that morning not feeling well.
His limbs felt stretched and achy, like he was recovering from a long fever. His stomach rolled uncomfortably as he turned on his side to face his fiance.
"I think I'm coming down with something, Rose," He croaks. "First human sickness, imagine that. I just...don't feel right. That's normal, right Rose? Rose?" The blonde sits up in bed, stretching her arms high above her head and yawning. She ignores him, not even facing him before rising and stumbling towards the bathroom. The Doctor heard the shower go on and frowned.
Was she angry at him? Had he done something the night before to upset her? The Doctor lay on his back, hand resting lightly over his queasy stomach, and wracked his brain for any reason for Rose's icy demeanor. She had seemed fine when they had gone to bed the night before...more than fine, if he were to be blunt. He didn't understand why she wouldn't even look at him, let alone respond when he told her he was sick. She had always been so fussy back on the TARDIS. Every slight injury or cough she would be all over him to rest, bringing him soup, or one memorable occasion when he had taken quite a fall onto a bear trap in the northern forests of Alaska, when she dragged him back to her mother's flat until his wounds had healed and he could move without agony.
Why would she ignore him? Old self-doubt started to creep in. He wasn't as good as him. He wasn't even a full Time Lord anymore. He wasn't good enough for Rose. He forces himself to ignore his aches and dress. He feels a bit better when he's in his normal suit, sitting on their window seat and waiting for Rose.
He was feeling rather sorry for himself when Rose emerged from the bathroom, dressed and refreshed. A small smile was playing on her face and she seemed content. The Doctor felt hope. Perhaps she had just been tired, not angry or upset with him. He opened his mouth to speak as she walked straight past him, not even looking at him again.
"Rose?" Jackie knocks softly at their door and enters. "Ready for work, darling?"
"Ah yeah, better head in. We still having dinner tonight with the CEO of that firm?"
"Yeah, you know they've got a son...stands to inherit the company, if you're interested..."
"Mum! Eh, we'll see how attractive he is. Mmm, I could use a boy right about now. I had the most wonderful dream last night...I was engaged! Ha. Me, engaged."
The Doctor rushed over to Rose.
"Rose? What's going on? Rose, why won't you talk to me? We are engaged, Rose!" He waves his hands in front of her face, starting to panic. The pain is cresting again and the Doctor has a strange feeling of rewinding. It takes all he has to stay on his feet. He stumbles to Jackie, shaking her shoulder. She doesn't respond to his touch at all.
"Jackie please! You can insult me if you want, just stop ignoring me! Ah!" He doubles over, feeling like he was tearing apart. "Rose! Please." He's crying shamefully now, tears dripping down his cheeks and his nose running. "Rose, I feel like...like I'm dying. But it's worse than when he died, its so so so much worse." Rose still doesn't look at him, putting in earrings even as he grasps at her clothes with the desperation of a dying man. "You're breaking my heart," He croaks, head spinning. He's going to pass out soon and he's terrified. He's going to pass out and Rose is going to leave him alone and there's no telling what will happen to him. He could die on this floor, cold and alone and in pain. "Please, Rose, it hurts." He whispers, falling to his knees.
Rose doesn't respond, looking at herself in a mirror. She fusses with her hair and puts in earrings as the Doctor pants in agony, slumping to the floor. Dark spots are playing before his eyes and he groans as the pain crests again, rolling through him like fire. Every cell seems to be burning, but there's no regeneration in this half human body. She steps over him like he's not even there.
"Rose," He sobs, practically screaming her name. She pauses for a half second, turning her head. Did she hear him?! Hope swells in him. "Rose, I love you. Please don't leave-" But she has already turned back, shaking her head, and left him alone.
He cries for a while, feeling hopelessly lonely and abandoned and pitiful. He is part Time Lord! He should be stronger than this. But he cannot summon any of that strength now, as his world becomes narrowed to pain and cold.
He cries himself to a feverish, fitful sleep that is plagued by horrible nightmares and worse memories.
The Doctor stands to leave Amy Pond's bedside as the light from the crack in the wall grows and drags him further back, rewriting him out of time. He closes his eyes and expects the familiar pain of regeneration to grip him, turning him back into his 10th incarnation but no such pain hits him. Instead he opens his eyes to find himself in a brightly lit bedroom. It must be midday, for the sun is streaming in through the windows. He looks out to a view of the London skyline-zeppelins floating lazily over the city. He knows where he is.
"'bout time." A familiar voice says.
He turns around. It's him-the former him. The 10th Doctor, dressed in a pinstripe suit and trench coat. The unnaturally bright light makes the freckles dotting his cheeks stand out like spots of ink. He looks very grim, crouching over the body of his doppelganger. The metacrisis Doctor.
"He's dying," The 10th Doctor informs him. "We're being rewritten out of time, but it's okay because we've got a lot of time to spare. He doesn't. He depends on my existence for his own, and without us, he'll die."
"I'm...I'm..." The Doctor wants to apologize but he can't get the words out.
"They already forgot about him. Rose and her mother. He was standing right in front of them but they couldn't see him. The left him here, scared and in pain, but, to them, he's never really existed." The Doctor steps forward to get a better look. The 10th Doctor crouches protectively over the Metacrisis, who is curled on his side, keeping a hand firmly on his shoulder. "He's sleeping now, but it won't be long before he stops breathing." His respirations are few and far between. The Doctor kneels hesitantly, producing a stethoscope from his pocket. He nods at it, an implied 'may I' hanging in the air. For some reason, he is cowed by the 10th Doctor. There is a certain hardness in his eyes, a predatory look that makes the Doctor treat the Metacrisis with more gentleness than he would normally.
The Metacrisis' heart is fluttering weakly, skipping every few beats. Sweat beads on his brow and air escapes his lungs in short, far apart bursts.
"You have to fix this." The 10th Doctor tightens his grip on the Metacrisis' arm. "I gave him life because I was too scared to die. I won't let it all end like this. He can do so much more." The echo of some of the 10th Doctor's last words stings.
"Do you regret it?" Dying, he means. Giving the Metacrisis life and later losing his own so the 11th Doctor could be born.
"I can't. There was nothing to be done to prevent my death." He smiles sadly. "But I won't let him die. I won't take him away from Rose."
"I'm sorry." The Metacrisis makes a choked noise of pain, shuddering. The light from the crack is growing again. The 10th Doctor shushes him in an attempt at comfort. The Metacrisis doesn't respond, wriggling uncomfortably on the floor.
"Just go. Fix it."
"I will, I promise." The 10th Doctor nods, turning his attention to the Metacrisis, soothing him gently. The Doctor turns and runs at the crack as Amy's voice echoes through all of their heads.
I remember you!
The words in a woman's voice the Doctor doesn't know repeat over and over in his head. He moans, head tossing, trying to remember how he ended up on the floor. Last time he slept on the floor was when he and Rose threw her father a birthday party. They had both had a bit too much to drink and passed on in the living room. That was nice though. Rose slept on top of him and even when he woke up with a raging headache and a fuzzy tongue, he felt content. Now he feels cold and stretched, still exhausted though he feels like he has been sleeping for a long time.
He remembers in bits and pieces. Rose ignoring him. The pain. A jumbled conversation between two of the same person going on above him. The Doctor, and the next.
He can hear his name being called but he is too tired to open his eyes. The voice sounds very distressed, and clogged as though speaking through tears, and he could never resist a woman crying. He pries open his eyes.
Rose is kneeling above him, hands fisted in his shirt. Tears are streaming down her face but she manages a wet smile when he opens his eyes.
"Oh, Doctor," She sobs, kissing his forehead.
"Rose..." He croaks. His throat is raw, from screaming. Rose lifts him into her lap, cradling his head and shoulders. She rocks him, whispering, "Thank God," over and over again. "You can see me?" His voice is still quavering and he realizes he's shaking and can't stop.
"Oh God, Doctor, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. It was like...there was a hole and I couldn't see you through it. I was halfway to Torchwood when it all came back to me. Came back as quick as I could." The Doctor sighs, burying his face in her stomach. He can't squash the memory of his terror and loneliness when she looked at him without seeing him at all. "Dad's coming home too. You shouldn't try and move."
"I'm so tired, I don't know if I can." It feels as though he's just run a marathon. All his muscles are stretched and weak. He lets himself drift as Rose holds him, stroking back his hair. Pete comes and he and Rose help him to sit on the bed. He rubs his face as father and daughter talk.
"No!" He says suddenly when he hears the word hospital. "No, I don't need a hospital. They wouldn't be able to help me, I'm not even human. Please, I just need to rest." Rose nods at Pete.
"Leave us alone for a while, yeah? I'll call you if we need you." Rose pokes and prods the Doctor until they are both laying on top of the covers, still fully dressed. The Doctor doesn't care, as Rose wraps her arms around him.
"I'll explain everything, later." He says, closing his eyes. Rose kisses the tip of his nose.
"Just rest, Doctor. I'll be here."
"Don't leave me," He whispers. Rose squeezes him tighter.
"Never."