Title: Remember
Authors: Gillian Taylor
Rating: PG
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones
Summary: As long as someone remembers, nothing is truly gone.
Spoilers: Satan Pit/Impossible Planet, Gridlock
Disclaimer: Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.
Archive: Sure, just let me know.

A/N: Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas WMR and JulieS. I blame Gridlock (and Wendy) for this one...when I should be working on Darkness Falls...


"Remember"
By Gillian Taylor

She finds him in the console room, staring blankly at the viewscreen. There's something tragic about his expression. Though his face betrays nothing, his eyes tell all. There are too many emotions to name churning behind his brown eyes. There's pain there, and anguish. It's rare for her to come upon him so unguarded.

He usually hides those thoughts and emotions behind a mask. Whenever she's around, she can only catch a glimpse before it's gone again, hidden behind a manic smile or a cheerful grin. He probably thinks he's protecting her. That's a habit of his that even regeneration can't break.

She remembers many times when she would find him in the console room, leaning against a railing or one of the struts, his entire body bowed as if he were carrying the weight of the universe upon his shoulders. His body always told her more about his state of mind than his expression. His past incarnation was the master of the term 'etched in granite' at times like that.

She always suspected that, in those times, he was thinking about the past – his home, the War, his family or the Daleks. He kept so much hidden from her. Even now, when he's so quick to laugh or smile. To hug her or grin at her. She knows that there are times when that's a lie.

If he notices her now, that mask will fall into place and he'll smile and laugh away her concern. He's always all right, as he's told her several times before, but she knows that that isn't true. He's hurting, still hurting, and she doesn't know what she can do to help.

It hurts to see him like this. She just wishes that he'd let her in, let her help, rather than try to protect her. She's seen so much and she's tried her best to be his friend, to help, but sometimes she wonders if it's enough. For him or for her.

When she catches sight of the first hint of a tear at the corner of his eye, she's across the room in seconds, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She presses herself against his back and for a second she feels him lean into her embrace before he turns. As she expects, his mask is firmly in place, complete with a wide smile.

"What's that for?" he asks, pretending that nothing happened. "Not that I mind a hugging ambush. Oooh, a hugging ambush. Wonder if that's something that could be useful in the future? After all, you never know when someone might need a hug. Just sneak up behind them and wham! Instant hug. A hugging ambush. I like that."

"'Cause I wanted to," she replies, suddenly unable to confess that she saw behind his mask. She doesn't say 'because I thought you needed it', though she wants to. It's her version of his lie. Pretend it doesn't exist, and everything's fine.

But it isn't, is it? She offers him a small smile and releases him from her hug, letting him draw away. "Where are we? Felt the TARDIS materialise somewhere." She tries to look over his shoulder at the viewscreen, but he blocks her view.

"Oh, just in space. Nothing impressive here. Just a bunch of dust and rocks. There isn't even any air out there. Nothing to see, really." There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a shadowed pain, that tells her that there's more to it than just that. He sniffs a little and turns, starting to turn dials and twist knobs. "I'll just set us off again. Pick anywhere you want to go, Rose. Anywhere at all. Past, future, different planet, Earth, you name it. Your wish is my command."

"In space?" she asks. "Where?" She deliberately ignores the request, suspecting that there's more to this location than he's letting on.

"Somewhere near galactic coordinates ten-zero-eleven-zero-zero by zero-two from galactic zero centre, I think." His voice falters slightly as he rattles off the numbers and she wonders about the reason why. "Really, it's rather boring. Nothing to see here, sadly. Just the remnants of… Well, anyway, you haven't told me where you'd like to go next, Rose. Time and space are at your command."

She latches onto the words 'remnants of' and she thinks she knows what's so important about this particular location. "This is it, isn't it?"

"A place, Rose," he says, ignoring her question, though she knows that he's aware of what she's thinking.

"Doctor…"

He darts around the console, flipping a few more switches and placing his hand on the bicycle pump. "I can pick, you know. How about some place random? Haven't done that in a while. Not since I removed the randomizer, actually. Could just change the coordinates and set us off. Won't know where we're going until we get there. Could be fun."

"Doctor!" She all but shouts his name and he stops, looking around the central column to give her a curious look.

"What? Random location doesn't work? Where, then?" he asks.

There are consequences to any answer that she might make, she knows. The worst that can happen is that he'll drop her off back home and leave her behind. She doesn't want that, but what else can she do? She knows that this isn't right. He should be able to talk to her about anything. But does she have the right to re-open any wounds that he might have if she's right?

Then again, those wounds never closed. They're festering each time he closes himself off from her. Each time he moves away. The words escape her lips before she has time to censor them. "This is what's left of your home, isn't it?"

He stills suddenly, his very body arrested as he gazes at her. There's so much that she can see behind his eyes. They're so open now. She can see his grief, his sorrow and his guilt. She sees all that and more.

She wonders why he doesn't say anything, why he doesn't move. It's like he's been caught by her words, startled by them. What if she is wrong?

What if this isn't what he needs? What if this is just some stupid attempt on her part to find out more about him? She knows him, but she doesn't know of him. What if she's just been deluding herself?

"Sorry," she murmurs. "I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't've… Never mind, yeah? Jus' set the coordinates. We'll go wherever." This feels like the coward's way out, she realises, but she doesn't care. She can't stand to see him hurt, especially when she's the one doing the hurting.

"She misses them," he says, turning to look at the centre console, at the slow pulse of the temporal rotor. He presses his hand against the console and closes his eyes. "Suppose the encounter with the Beast is what caused this. She wanted to go home, even though there's no home to go to. Not any more."

The TARDIS's hum deepens slightly, as if in sorrowful agreement. She edges around the console slowly, keeping her eyes on his bowed figure, wanting nothing more than to try and make this pain go away. But she can't, can she? She can't even imagine that loss. Sure, she's seen her planet burn, but she always knows it's still there, in the past. She can go home again.

But what about the Doctor? Time probably has some sort of law against it, or else he does. Something that says once it's gone, that's it. She wants to cry out at the injustice of it all, but what does she know? He's told her before. It's a different morality out here. Take it or go home.

"Suppose…" Her voice trails off and she can't complete the sentence. It's unfair to him, to her, to try.

"Suppose what?" he asks, diverting his attention to her. He's hiding nothing right now, she realises. She can see every emotion, every thought that occurs to him written across his face.

She bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head. "'S stupid, really," she replies. She hopes he doesn't try to convince her to tell him what she'd wanted to say, but she knows that he will.

"No such thing as a stupid question," he says. "What is it?"

He doesn't have to say more than that to convince her. She wonders if he knows just what sort of power he holds over her. But, she supposes, that's what love does to you. She'll admit that to herself, but not to him. Never to him. He doesn't do that sort of thing. "'S just, it's like Earth, isn't it? I mean, I saw it get destroyed. The ultimate end for my planet. But it's still there. We can go back there any time we like. Jus' set the coordinates an' we're there. Can't you just, I dunno, do the same with your world? Just go back in time?"

A muscle ticks in his cheek as he looks at her. "Doesn't work like that. Not for Gallifrey. It was kept outside of time as you know it. It existed in all times. And now it's gone. There's no going back because there's nothing to go back to."

His description makes her head hurt. If it existed in all times, then that means that it's dust and rock in all times now, too. How's that possible? "But you said. Dust an' rocks. It's outside right now, isn't it? Had to've been Gallifrey once. Otherwise it doesn't make sense. How can it just be gone?"

"It's been wiped out of time. Once it was destroyed, it was like it never was there. The planet's nothing but dust and rocks now, just like it was dust and rocks before and will always be nothing but dust and rocks. That's what happened at the end of the Time War, Rose. Gallifrey's gone because it never existed."

It's at that moment that she recognises the magnitude of his loss. Even his planet's past is gone. He can't go back, because it never was. "But how's that possible? Jack-" Her voice breaks on his name, but she continues. "-Jack knew about the Time Lords. Knew about the Daleks an' the war. But if your planet's gone, an' it was in all times, then how'd he know about it?"

"I don't know," he replies softly. "Never thought about it, not really."

"Unless…I know you said you'd know before, but isn't it possible that someone else survived? Told Jack an' the Time Agency about Time Lords?" she asked.

He shakes his head. "I'd know, Rose. They wouldn't be able to hide in time. I'd know if they were around, just like they'd know of me. It's probably just an echo of the war, impacting history. Time Lords are nothing but myths now."

She frowns as she considers his words. Maybe it does work like that, but she'd think that for a race that are lords of time they'd know how to hide in it. To disappear. It'd probably be easy, come to think of it. They'd just have to avoid getting medical care and they could blend in.

"What was it like?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Gallifrey?" he asks and when he sees her nod, his gaze seems to turn inwards. The mask is completely gone now and thinks she can see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "It was beautiful, Rose. Magnificent. Burnt orange skies, deep red grass and the mountains. Oh, they went on forever, Rose. From horizon to horizon, each one covered by a cap of snow. I was born in those mountains. Well, as close to it as we come. It was home. Even though my cousins drove me crazy, it was still home. Never thought I'd miss them, really. They hated me and I told myself that I hated them, but I didn't. Don't. Never.

"And the Citadel was the triumph of Gallifreyan engineering. The centre of the city was the Panopticon, where the Academy stood. The city was covered by a massive glass dome, protecting it from the elements outside. Some people never bothered leaving the city, except for when they had to return to their Houses. They missed so much.

"No, I missed so much," he corrects himself. "Didn't spend enough Otherstides with the Family. Didn't go back to see Leela and Andred's wedding. Didn't get to meet their children. Didn't accept the chance to teach at the Academy, or really assume my duties as the President." He sniffs and rubs the back of his hand against his eyes.

When he opens them, they're clear of tears, but the sorrow within them is deeper than what tears alone can convey. He focuses his attention upon her and when he speaks, his words are barely audible. "All gone now. My crazy cousins and my friends. The burnt orange skies, the silver trees and the red grass. Nothing's left, Rose. It's all gone except for me and the TARDIS. We're all that's left."

Something tickles her cheek and she brushes her fingers against it. When her fingertips come away damp, she realises that she's been crying. Sharing in his obvious pain. There's got to be something that she can do to help. Something that she can say that might help to soothe his hurt. " It's like they say, yeah? As long as someone remembers what it's like, it's never really gone. You're not alone now, Doctor. You've got me. An' for as long as I can, as long as I live, I'll remember Gallifrey, too."

"You were never there," he says. "How can you remember it as well as I can?"

"No, I was never there. But there's still you. You're a part of Gallifrey as much as the TARDIS is. An' I know you. An' I know what you've said. 'S not possible for me to forget you. To forget this. Ever."

Something in his expression encourages her and she crosses the distance between them to wrap her arms around him once again. "Don't forget that, yeah? Long as someone remembers, it's never really gone."

He buries his face in her hair and tightens his arms around her, holding her securely in his embrace. When he whispers his next words, they're heartfelt and she feels like she made the right choice.

"Thank you."


"Can we go to yours?" Martha asks.

He doesn't wince, not really, but he feels the memories wash over him. He wanted this to be different. Martha Jones isn't supposed to know his hidden sorrow, his hidden shame. He remembers what it was like to be with someone who knew that he was alone, but that was different because it was Rose.

Oh, he really shouldn't do that. Shouldn't put her on a pedestal, as the best of the best, but he can't help himself. It's easier to dwell on the more recent loss, he thinks. Nah, it's better to pretend. To believe that Gallifrey's still there. That with just a flip of a switch, he can arrive in the Panopticon and visit Leela, Andred and Romana. See the sights of the Citadel and maybe even go to the mountains for a picnic.

It makes the pain less vivid, he thinks. Less immediate. Less there. It mingles in his mind with the pain of losing Rose. It's not fair, not really, but he does it all the same. She's living her fantastic life in another universe and Gallifrey is still there, just beyond his reach.

"There're plenty of other places," he replies, moving around the console to flip another switch.

She's insistent though, is Martha Jones. He'll have to give her that. He tells her a bit about it, about what it's like. He pretends it's still there and he finds it soothing. But when she asks again, he realises that this might just be backfiring on him.

"Nah," he tells her. "Where's the fun for me? I don't want to go home!"

But he does. Rassilon, he does. He just can't. Not now, not ever. So he hides behind a mask, letting this façade be all that Martha Jones can see. He supposes that Rose would be disappointed in him, but he tells himself that he doesn't care. It's easier this way.

It's only later, after the Face of Boe tells him his secret and New New York is reborn that he realises that he can't do this. Not any more. Not since Rose drew it out of him and not since Martha Jones is doing the same.

Maybe it's better to have many people who will remember Gallifrey, he decides. As Rose said, so long ago now, nothing is ever truly gone if it's remembered.

So he turns to her and confesses, "I lied to you…"

And, in the back his mind, he knows that Rose would approve.

THE END