A/N This is a bit different in it's POV of what happened after the Doctor left his duplicate behind on Pete's World. This chronicles his journey and is not actually a Ten/Rose shipping or is it - in the end.

Rose tugged the duvet over her head in a vain effort to shut the blinking clock out. The numbers reminded her too much of the stars blinking out in the night sky. She tried to quiet her mind, but memories of the TARDIS engines dematerialising, taking with it, the other half her soul played in a loop making it impossible. In frustration, she tossed the cover back to gaze at the almost three-dimensional painting of the beloved ship commissioned by Pete for her twenty-fifth birthday.

"Why did you do this to me? He doesn't even kiss like you," she said.

Wind chimes quietly tinkling in the night provided a lonely answer the question. The sound brought a brief smile. Jackie laughed at her when she'd put the silly thing up outside her balcony door. She'd laughed harder when she'd told her that it was her timey whimey TARDIS detector. She gave a disgusted sigh, gave up the struggle, and pulled herself from the warmth of her bed. Her dressing gown provided little protection against the chill of the night air prompting her to pull off the duvet to wrap around herself. Then, as she had hundreds of nights before, she stepped out on the balcony to survey the stars. Fog obscured her view tonight. One of the hardest that she had to adjust to when she first became stranded here was the difference in the stars. She blamed the difference for taking her so long to catch the disappearances of three planets in Davros' bid for destruction. Tonight, all she wanted was to look up and catch a glimpse of that daft blue box, but her only reward tonight came from the murky outline of the moon. Questions tumbled about him; where was he, who was he with, was Donna still beside him? The hybrid had grown silent when she asked about Donna. She leaned against the railing staring up at the fog shrouded the moon wondering how the man she loved with every fibre of her being could have left her with a hybrid - as if he were some sort reward. A stone splashing in the pond shifted her attention to the garden.

There he was, slowly walking a circular path around the small body of water stopping occasionally to skip a rock across its surface. She contemplated shouting out a warning, Pete would kill him if one his prize fish took a conk on the head. He made a turn around the far corner and started back towards the house. He looked cold, miserable and lost in the borrowed coat that barely covered his tall, thin frame. At least he had some form of protection against the night air. Spring nights, even in southern England, tended toward the cold side. He walked head bent, shoulders hunched, and his hands shoved deeply in the borrowed overcoat pockets. He looked lost and alone. Rose still didn't understand his creation. After years of dealing with all sorts of alien life forms, a man who, until two days ago didn't exist, turned out the most alien of all. She wondered what kind of thoughts ran through his mind, and how much Donna's DNA influenced the way he would think and act.

So far she didn't see much evidence of that born in battle, filled with anger crap, the Doctor talked about. So far, if he had any anger, he was keeping it to himself. She almost wished he had a little of the stand-offish, iI don't do domestic/i attitude of her first Doctor. The man in the garden came across withdrawn and distant. Another stone skipped the surface of the water. She watched him resume his apparent aimless wanderings around the pond. "Wonder what he's thinking," she muttered softly. What was it like to have the Doctor's memories and knowledge combined with Donna's innate insecurity tucked inside his head? How must it feel to be blamed for genocide when the man who created you was guilty of the crime twice over? He had to feel as if he'd been stripped bare.

Here he was, stuck on the slow path, expecting her to go with him, but now that the emotional turmoil of Norway had passed, despite how much pain he was in, the sad truth was; she wasn't at all sure that she wanted to walk with him. The Doctor may have thought that he'd been kind to leave them here together, but he was wrong.

She ducked back in the shadows when he glanced up at her room. Did he see her? When she was sure that he'd moved away, she stepped out of the shadows to continue watching him. While waiting for Pete to pick them up from the beach, they'd talked about the meta crisis. He'd tried to explain it to her, but she still didn't understand. He looked exactly like her lover, sounded like her lover, but the fact remained, he was not that man. That left the question: what was he, the Doctor's son or a clone? He'd explained that he wasn't true clone because of Donna, and yes, he had the same feelings for her that the Doctor did, especially after that kiss. That kiss lacked passion, leaving her aching for the Doctor's mouth to plunder hers. She wanted to rest her head against his chest, and hear duel hearts beating against her ear. The arms that enfolded her on the beach left her desperately wanting the Doctor's arms and hands to touch her in places that only a lover should touch. She dreamt countless times of those hands roaming her body as he traced their names against her skin. He would never touch her now. The hands that she hungered for, did not belong to the stranger in the garden.

Hot, silent tears slid down Rose's cheeks. The man who she'd desperately loved since she was nineteen years old had once again proventhat he was an unreliable idiot. Common sense told her that she should be feeling just as angry and betrayed as the stranger below. But that wasn't possible. How could she hate the other half of her soul? How could she love the man below? Rose couldn't remember a time in her life when she felt so confused and conflicted. How did the Doctor expect her to take care of the man below and make him better when she didn't even know how to forge a link with him. God, she thought, why can't he just be the Doctor.

"How long you going to watch him pace a hole in Pete's garden?" Her mother's voice snapped her attention away from the widening gulf of despair.

Rose turned to see her mother standing in the balcony's doorway. The sight of her mum's open arms sent her in a rush for the comfort those arms had always provided. This was one more night that her mum would hold her as she wept in grief.

"Oh Sweethear'."

"What do I do, Mum? I don't know what to do. This is a mess. He looks as lost down there as I feel. What did they do to us?"

"Have you talked to him since tea. He didn't eat much. Maybe you two should have a cuppa and talk," her mother advised.

"No, he went to bed," she replied.

"Yeah, he told Adela that he had a headache. I think he likes her," Jackie said.

"He didn't tell me. It couldn't be like before 'cos he's been out there a while. He looked up here once, and then just went back to walking."

"Maybe that's because he's not sure what you would say if he admitted to havin' one. Maybe - he wants you to think of him as the Doctor, all strong and brave," Jackie reasoned.

"I miss him, Mum," Rose said, wiping tears away.

"I know, sweetheart, but you have to move on, and the Doctor wanted you to do that with his Nibs down there. I don't pretend to understand, how he came to be. I do know that when he was inside the TARDIS, he got all quiet and just stood with that Donna woman. When she left, he turned to you. When you kissed him, it gave him hope, but when we flew back from Norway, you wouldn't even sit next to him and now, Honey, he's lost," Jackie said, keeping her daughter wrapped in her arms.

"Mum, I can't help myself. How do I help him?"

"First, we get him out of the cold and a nice cuppa in him. After that, just be there. Be his friend. Remember when we first came here, how lost we felt? We at least had each other and Mickey. He doesn't have anyone if we turn our backs, does he?"

Rose snorted. Even here, the way to solve life's problems remained a good hot cuppa. "Right, tea then, yeah?" she said, slipping her hand in her mother's for the walk to the kitchen.

The size of the kitchen always seemed to grow on nights like this, reminding Rose of the vast difference in her life in this universe and home. This bloody kitchen would swallow their entire tiny council flat. It always amazed her how their German housekeeper managed to keep everything so organised. The Doctor needed just a little of that woman's organisational ability. The sound of the kitchen door softly opening and closing brought their attention the tall, thin man coming in. Seeing him standing there was still like looking at a ghost. His unkempt hair and a day's growth of beard made him look tired and out of sorts. He plainly did not expect to find anyone in the kitchen.

"Hello," he said, pulling himself straighter, plastering a half grin on his face. "Thought everyone would be in bed."

"Yeah, Guess we're all still a bit wired. Are you alright? You were out there a long time. I was worried about you." Rose walked slowly up to him until she could lay her slim hand on his chest. "Doc-" she started.

"You want a cuppa, Love?" Jackie asked.

"Thanks, Jackie. Can I call you, Jackie? I know you said that I could, but that was then, and this is now." He shifted his stance looking unsure of himself.

"We know where you got that gob, don't we? You're rambling on just like 'im." Jackie laughed. "How 'bout that tea?"

"Tea would be good," he replied.

"Can I ask, why do you sound Scottish? I mean, if you're his copy, why don't you sound like him? "'Course, the first time, you sounded all Northern," Jackie asked.

"I guess, the TARDIS just felt we needed a way to tell us apart," he quipped, unable to hide the exhaustion in his voice.

"Are you sure that you're alright?" Rose asked again.

"Fine, I'm fine. I've just been out there thinking. Trying to sort my head out. A bit weird, innit? I have all these memories; their memories, Donna's and his, competing in there. I'm - not him. I need to be me because, well, I am unique, and I'm not him. God, I sound daft, don't I?" He took a cup of tea from Jackie. Just the act of swallowing the brew gave him a chance to pull his thoughts together.

Both women waited until he started again. He walked to the counter, and set the cup down before slowly turning to face them.

"I need my own identity. I don't want to rehash John Smith, and I am not, nor will I ever be the Doctor again. So, I have to give myself a name. That's what I was out there doing - thinking. I've decided on Daniel Ulysses Barrow. The first is after the biblical Daniel. I - he - was there you know. Actually, he was him. It was right after the war just before I met you. I was bouncing around time like a rabbit running from a lion. Sorry, I keep confusing my pronouns. Anyway, Ulysses was our father's Academy name. You humans like to name your children after parents, right? Well, this is me doing that."

"Doctor, you're still -" she started again.

"Rose, let me finish. This is confusing enough," he said firmly. "I'm not him. My last name is Barrow. It's short for ... it doesn't matter what it's short for. It's all I have left of my - his - our home. That and the bit of coral that Donna gave me. Anyway, I am 34 years old. One year for each hour of my existence. I want my life to be with you. I want to give you the universe. I want ... I want to take you out on a proper date for something other than chips. I want our next kiss to be because we want to kiss, not because you want to make him jealous. And yes, I know that's why you kissed me. But first," he reached up to rub his temple, "I need to talk to Pete."

"What for?" Confusion etched her face.

"I just need access to a scanner. I shouldn't have a headache, but this one keeps hanging on. The scans on the TARDIS didn't show anything, but ..." he trailed off.

"But since you aren't supposed to exist, you're worried," Rose said.

"No, not really, just, well, the tannins should have cured any regeneration sickness. It always has before. But this has never happened before, so I need to run a scan and maybe a couple of other tests. Then," he said brightly, "I need to go shopping." He pulled her snugly in his arms. "That last bit must come from Donna, never really liked doing it before."

The smile on his face brought a reluctant one to hers. She rested her head against his chest, listening to that single heart beat against her as his chin rested on her head. She wasn't sure which of them needed the physical contact the most, but when his arms tightened around her, she willed her body to meld against him. He was right; to say that the events of the last two days were confusing was an understatement. They stood there, eyes closed, just breathing in each other scents, oblivious that Pete had joined them. When the former Doctor née Daniel opened his eyes again, he saw Jackie and Pete Tyler smiling at them.

"Hey Pete, Jackie." The newly christened man flashed a pained grin. "Pete, you are just the man, I was looking for."

"Glad I showed up. You two do know that it's the middle of the night, and you, Doctor - should be in bed? Instead of getting a proper rest, Jackie says that you were wearing a path in my garden."

"Did I, sorry." They were both facing the other couple now, her head still rested against his side. "I need a favour."

"Anything Doctor." Pete moved to join the couple. "What do you need?"

"Daniel Ulysses Barrow," Rose corrected. "He wants to be Daniel Ulysses Barrow."

"That's me," Daniel affirmed. "I've got a name now, but I need Torchwood to provide a little help with a past - and I need access to a bio-scanner at Torchwood. I'm sure you've managed to cobble one together after Cybus Industries fell."

"We did. Lumic left quite a bit of bio tech behind. Mickey, Jake and several others liberated enough data to build a state of the art bio scanner for both field use and hospital. Why?"

"He's got a headache, Pete. A bad one," Rose answered for him. "Can you give us a lift?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me get hold of Doctor Jones," Pete answered.

"You have a Martha Jones here?" Daniel asked. The thought brightened his smile.

"Marcus. He is a neurosurgeon. He's been with us since we started building Torchwood."

"Well, at least, I have an M Jones." He chuckled, and then pulled away from Rose. "You stay with Jackie. If everything is alright, I will be back with a new set of clothes. I'm thinking: Tees, jeans, jumpers and maybe a couple of Oxfords and ties with a nice jacket. A leather motorcycle jacket; I would look really good in a leather motorcycle jacket."

"When I first met you, the first you, you were wearing leather. So, no more pinstripes?" She giggled then poked her tongue through her teeth.

"No more pinstripes: that's him. I think, I'll keep the trainers, though. I really like the way they fit around my toes," he said, looking at his feet. The outline of wiggling toes plainly visible made he giggle.

"You are a complete nutter," Jackie laughed. "You need a refill before you go off to get your head examined. Not that, they'll find much," she teased softly, turning back to reheat the water.

Rose sat with him while they waited for Pete to come back. Daniel hid his obvious discomfort behind a half-smile as he sipped the second cup of tea. When Pete appeared in the kitchen ready to leave, she gave him a reassuring peck on the cheek. He looked so tired when he walked out of the kitchen. Rose idly flicked the handle teaspoon lying on the table, sending in a tailspin across the table until Jackie reached over to stop it from falling off the table.

"You want to talk or should I get you one of the pills Marcus left for when you can't sleep?"

"No pill, at least not now. Mum, he has one heart."

"Yeah, Sweethear', I know," Jackie answered softly.

"When I lay my head on his chest, I feel like I'm cheatin', like I'm betrayin' the Doctor. Mum, what am I going to do?" Rose leaned against her mother and sobbed.

Daniel Ulysses Barrow piled his slightly better than six-foot frame into Pete Tyler's jeep. Fog hugged the ground making the trees look like spectres clinging to the side of the road as the car made its turn from the narrow lane that left the estate to the main road that would take them to Torchwood London. He stared out at the passing scenery trying to figure out why the scene made him want to shiver. He glanced sideways at Pete whose entire focus was on navigating his way through the dense fog. The man didn't seem too keen on conversation at the moment.

He was coming up on thirty-six hours with nothing to show for his existence except the pain in his head and the ache in his heart. He found himself longing for Donna's counsel. By now, if she were still alive, she would have forgotten him. He clinched his eyes shut against not only the worsening pain, but the thought that, by now, the Doctor would have wiped her memory, taking any thought of his existence with it. He would have had no other choice. A human brain couldn't handle the explosion of nerve endings that would have occurred as her brain converted to Gallifreyan.

Much like it did in any regeneration, that same process was happening to him, now. Exploding nerves endings were re-wiring his brain even as he made this trip. A thousand thoughts competed for attention all at once. Time streams formed and then died all at the same time. He felt as if a buzz saw had taken up residence inside of his head. This puny human body was struggling to accommodate becoming a Time Lord. What if he weren't essentially human? Were the scans on the TARDIS wrong? They couldn't be wrong - could they? Maybe he was more Time Lord than they thought. What if that meant he might, possibly, be able to regenerate. What if's filled his head. The biggest what if: what if the TARDIS had lied to her Time Lord? He really wanted that to be true.

"Where are we exactly?" Daniel asked quietly.

"We are on High street. We'll be on the C5 in a few minutes and then into London. This time of the day, with my plates, we can be at Torchwood in thirty minutes."

"To Canary Wharf, really?" asked Daniel. He'd thought, they were further out from Canary Wharf than that.

"No, Torchwood Tower is there, but it's for dealing with the government. "I combined my Vitex offices with Torchwood operations, and moved them to an industrial park where no one cares if we come and go at all hours. Having them out of the city makes it easier to deal with the more delicate operations while managing my business at the plant.

"I guess, I come under that heading, hey. Delicate operation?"

Pete snorted. "No, why would you say that? You really are worried, aren't you?"

"In the other universe, he was number one on Torchwood's hit parade," Daniel replied.

"That's what Rose said, but that's them, not us. We built this Torchwood based on what we thought would make him proud. You get to judge if we did it properly."

"I can't even get this done properly," Daniel smirked. "I'm not sure if I'm the one to ask right now.

"Do you want to know something?" Pete asked solemnly.

Daniel kept his eyes on the landscape, but he could feel Pete glance over at him. "Probably not, but I don't think it will stop you," Daniel said. He really didn't want to hear how he wasn't wanted.

"You two aren't the only ones left angry by this little -"

"Mess," Daniel filled in.

"You're words, not mine. "Rose tried for four years to get back to the other universe, back to him. Things got desperate when the stars started going out. She made twenty-seven jumps before she hit the right coördinates. The last one, she jumped back, grabbed an extra battery pack for the dimension cannon, kissed her mum goodbye and left. She never expected to come back. Next thing I know, my wife and Mickey follow her. They risked everything to save two universes and then ..."

Pete clinched the steering wheel harder. Daniel couldn't miss the pick up in speed. He closed his eyes again to avoid glancing sideways at the angry man. A fleeting moment of panic swept through him. Surely Pete wouldn't do anything to him. He'd never be able to explain it to Jackie, let alone Rose. The thought, along with thoughts of fifteen scenarios of how the police would find his body dumped on the side of the road, left almost as fast as it came. The thought mixed with the calculation of speed divided by time to calculate the distance to Torchwood. God , my head hurts, he thought. He ignored it.

"Leave it to that smug bastard to find a way to give her a consolation prize," Pete finished.

"Thanks," Daniel muttered thickly. "I didn't get a lot of say so in the whole thing, you know?"

"I know, I'm sorry if I sound like I am blaming you. I'm not. Kids aren't responsible for their parents. Even when the kid comes out all -"

"Six foot-one with a stubble?" Daniel quipped.

"Yeah." Pete chuckled.

"Time Lords were loomed you know, so that's not unusual. Donna gettin' in the mix - that was something' else. By now, he has wiped her memory. She can't survive otherwise. He has lost, Pete. Logically, I know, he had no choice in what he did, and I know how much he hurts right now, but ... on the other hand, you are right. He is a smug bastard who thinks his answers are always right. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Pete replied.

"I'm scared. All my memories and instincts tell me to smile my way through until I can run, but I have nowhere to go. I am truly scared that I will lose her. I want her to love me, but what if I'm defective I want to give her the world, but not if I'm going to implode or something. I won't let her get any closer to me if... If this is going to fail, I will make sure to -"

Daniel wasn't prepared for Pete suddenly slamming on the brakes and jerking the car of to the side of the road. The sudden motion snapped him forward. Only his seat belt kept him from hitting the dash. He couldn't stop the involuntary groan from the pain ripping through his head.

"What the hell are you saying?" Pete snarled.

"What ya do that for?" Daniel yelled.

"Exactly what are you planning to do if -" Pete said hotly.

"Pete! I'm just saying, I won't date or pursue Rose if I'm going to ... What, you thought ... I'm not going to off myself. Why would you jump to that idea?"

"Frankly, self sacrifice seems to be a thing for you - him. Remember how Rose wound up here? Not to mention the stories she told me about the stupid things the Doctor did. And, you're the one who said that you're not supposed to be. You're the one talking about ending things."

"I didn't mean ending me, I meant her and me. I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Let's just make sure you don't change your mind," Pete ordered as he put the car in gear.

Daniel laughed softly.

"What?" Pete glanced over at the man sitting next to him.

"I thought you might let Torchwood dissect me."

Pete's laughter filled the car.

Daniel could just make out faint floodlights in the distance, as Pete's headlights cut through the dense fog. The combination of illumination cast a yellow glow on the dim outline of the Vitex/Torchwood complex making it difficult to judge the sheer scale of the place. Black clad guards stepped out of the shadows only to snap to attention when they recognised the vehicle slowing to a stop at the gates. Daniel couldn't resist a smile at the thought of how powerful Pete must be. Pete navigated the vehicle around Vitex trucks to the private parking structure attached to the main building. The remote controlled garage door opened revealing a well lit, but nearly empty interior. Three people stood on a walkway a half-story up from the garage floor. Daniel sunk a bit in his seat. It was more than apparent to him that they were waiting for him.

The sight of a black man clad in a white lab coat made Daniel swallow reflexively. He glanced around the large garage looking for an escape route. The way his head hurt, and the guards around this place, his chance of getting far was low. He turned his attention back to the man, hoping this universe's version of Martha was as trustworthy as Martha. A dark haired woman dressed in blue scrubs stood next to him. She was stunningly beautiful woman, but something about her sent a nervous shiver through. He smiled again when the third person stepped into view. The blonde headed young man stepped from behind. He looked older now, a little more battle worn, but it was unmistakenly Jake Simmonds.

Pete looked over at him. "You already know Jake," Pete offered, obviously sensing Daniel's fear. "You can trust the other two with your life. I promise, Daniel. No one here will do anything other than their best to make sure you are okay."

"I just might hold you to that promise, Pete," Daniel answered still wary of his surroundings.

"Come on," Pete said gently, "I'll introduce you."

"Yeah," he said, whilst climbing out of the car, he kept a wary eye on the strangers, half expecting guards to materialise from the shadows of the past.