Author's note: So, the reason that I'm posting this chapter so quickly after the previous one is this: This is the last chapter of part one of my story! Don't worry, there will be no hiatus in-between this part of the fic and the next (which, in my opinion, is much more exciting), so you can expect part two to drop on Wednesday as per usual!

Hope you've enjoyed the story so far! :)

...

"2008?" Clara said uncertainly, "What's so special about then?"

The Doctor went through all the events he had previously experienced in the year.

He had taken the Ponds to see the Beijing Olympics just recently; it was—he banished the memory quickly. He didn't want to think about them for even a second.

It was a raw wound.

He remembered the Dalek invasion that he and all his companions had managed to stop. Or had that been in 2009? Rose had even returned to help them with that.

Rose…

He banished the thought from his mind once again, not wanting to think about any of it. Especially not about her.

The point was that nothing significant had happened at this specific point in time that the Doctor could recall.

"Doctor?"

He looked up to see that Clara was staring at him with a concerned expression on her face. He had gotten lost in his thoughts again, he realised. That was happening a lot, lately.

"What?" he asked her, only wincing at his rudeness after the words had left his mouth.

Clara didn't seem to mind, though. "Why did we land in 2008?" she repeated patiently, "What's so special about then?"

"I don't know," the Doctor told her, fiddling uncomfortably with his suspenders, "Why don't we go find out?"

Clara smiled excitedly and the Doctor took a moment to appreciate her presence. That willingness that she had to face whatever the TARDIS doors opened to every time they travelled to some obscure time or place was the reason why she was his companion. They were all just so brave.

And that was usually what lead to their downfalls, a little voice in his head whispered.

The Doctor shook his head and ignored his conscience, instead leading the way out of the console room and into what lay beyond.

Upon exiting the TARDIS, the familiar sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. These events were no longer just coincidental.

He was standing in front of the Powell Estate. The TARDIS was parked in her usual parking spot in the small alleyway overlooking one of the complex's entrances.

So many times, he and Rose had passed the very spot that he stood now, hand-in-hand, to visit her mother, or her friends, or to investigate cases in the area. It was the very spot where Rose had told him that she would come with him the first time. The spot where Rose had agreed to go with him a second time after he had regenerated. The place where he had seen her face for the last time before regenerating into his present self.

"The Powell Estate," Clara read the sign a few metres away, "Peckham district, by the look of the place. Not exactly farfetched, is it?"

The Doctor meant to smile at her, but it came out as more of a grimace. "It's fine," he covered before she could ask, "Let's just find what we're supposed to find around here, shall we?"

Clara nodded and they set of toward the park next to the Powell Estate. The Doctor tried not to think of how he and Rose used to sit on the swings there with ice-cream cones when they visited Jackie.

A flash of gold caught his eye and the Doctor, as he always did when he went there, stopped for a moment to look at the little plaque mounted on the park bench. Clara was about to ask him about what he was doing, when she spotted the plaque herself. She closed her mouth, deciding that it was better not to say anything.

"This bench is dedicated to the memory of Rose Tyler," the plaque read, "1986-2006."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Clara said finally.

"S'fine," the Doctor said, ripping his eyes from the sight, "It's not as if she's really dead."

His voice broke on the word "dead", making his attempted nonchalance come off as slightly pathetic. Clara gave a sympathetic smile and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

Letting go, her face became serious once again. She looked around the area, coming up blank. "Why did Sam send us here?" she wondered aloud.

"I've no idea," he said, also not spotting anything out of place, "Maybe she just sent us away so we wouldn't get into the same trouble as her. Time Agents are always on the hunt for new and improved time travelling technology."

If that were the case, she wouldn't have told us to meet her there in the first place, his voice of reason nagged. They were sent back to 2008 for a reason.

"We should scan the area," he said, perking up slightly at the thought, "That way we could determine if anything abnormal happened round here. You see, I have this nifty little machine that goes ding and—"

"Doctor," Clara interrupted him.

If one squinted, one would be able to make out the TARDIS that was still parked in the distance. Now, another figure could just barely be seen standing in front of the Doctor's machine. The person seemed to be staring at the police box.

The Doctor felt himself go slightly weak in the knees upon spotting what Clara had been referring to.

Her hair was short and blonde. She was wearing a pink jersey with black jeans and trainers. All pink and yellow…

The Doctor hadn't even realised that he was rapidly moving towards the sight until he was standing a few metres away. By this time, he was so convinced of this person's identity that he didn't even try to stop the single word from escaping his mouth.

"Rose?"

She turned around and his heart dropped. It wasn't Rose. Not at all.

"You," he said blankly.

It was Sam. She was younger than she had been the previous times he had seen her. That confident air about her wasn't there. She just looked scared and small.

The disappointment that accompanied the revelation that it hadn't been Rose dissipated quickly at the sight of Sam.

This was why he was sent here— he was sure of it.

He just couldn't get past how fragile she looked.

Sam looked at the strange man in the bowtie as well as the girl who was running up from behind him. She didn't understand the awed look that the man was giving her.

Then she realised that her hand was still on the door of the police box.

"Sorry," she muttered apologetically, assuming that this was the reason for the man's stare, "Is she yours?"

The Doctor looked at her incredulously. Was she referring to Clara?

"'What?" he asked rather ineloquently.

"The TARDIS," Sam reiterated, "Is she yours?"

The Doctor blinked several times at the teenager's up-front words.

"Yes," he told her. He gathered that this version of Sam hadn't met him the previous two times yet, then. It would certainly explain the age gap between her and the other two versions.

"She's beautiful," Sam said dreamily, more to herself than to him. In her head, she heard the machine tell her to come inside.

"No," she told the TARDIS, "I think your owner needs to invite me in first."

"What was that?" the Doctor asked. He could have sworn that he had just heard the TARDIS talking to Sam, but that was impossible. Only he had the power to communicate with his police box.

"Sorry," Sam apologised again, "I'm actually quite new at this. You see, I've only read over some TARDIS specs at home, but I've never actually—"

"Hold on," the Doctor was gawking at her fully now, "You have TARDIS specs?"

"Had," she corrected him. Some sort of emotion flashed through her eyes, but it came and went too quickly for the Doctor to discern what it was, "My guardian worked for the Time Agents. They had all sorts of information about the Time Lords and their time machines. Apparently they're all gone now, though," she finished sadly.

Sam stroked the door absently once more before her eyes grew twice in size and she let out an audible gasp. "You're not with them, are you? The Time Agents? I'm supposed to be running away from them."

The Doctor couldn't help but be a little amused by the fact that she was asking him if he was the enemy. It also attributed to his resolve that he had to help her in some way. She was just too young and naive to survive on her own.

"No," he reassured her, "I'm not. I'm a Time Lord. Last of, in fact."

Sam's mouth popped open into a little "o".

"You're the Doctor," she connected the dots immediately, "You help people."

"I do," he smiled, "And you're Sam."

Sam looked at him and suddenly there was an intense hope in her eyes. The look that she gave him was verging on desperation. "So you can do it, too," she said quietly, "You see people. Just like I do."

Then, even quieter, "Can you help me, Doctor?"

He looked at her sympathetically. "I can try," he told her, "Come inside and I'll see what I can do."

Sam nodded contently and stepped aside to let the Doctor past. He opened the door and smiled to himself when he heard Sam's intake of breath behind him.

"I knew it would be bigger on the inside," she said, "I didn't know it would be huge."

As Sam stepped inside, the Doctor felt the TARDIS voice its welcome towards her. It was like she was welcoming an old friend on board. The feeling that even the TARDIS recognised Sam's familiarity was disconcerting to him.

Clara joined the Doctor where he stood watching Sam. She was walking around the console with wonder in her eyes, her fingers tracing all the different buttons and switches on the board. The Doctor also noticed that she was mouthing the different names of the switches to herself.

"Who is she, Doctor?" Clara asked quietly beside him, "I mean, she introduced herself to us and then sent us back here to meet her again. Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know," the Doctor said, eyeing Sam closely as she poked and prodded at some exposed wires on the console board.

"This is gorgeous!' she cried out enthusiastically, "It's just so much sleeker than travel by vortex manipulator. The temporal refractors alone are just a scientific masterpiece!"

Clara stared. "And then there's the fact that she's so much like—"

"What I would like to know," the Doctor said, cutting off Clara's words before they could add to the list of confusing things connected to Sam, "Is how she read those specs in the first place."

Clara frowned at him. "How do you mean?" she asked.

The Doctor kept his eyes trained on Sam, who was having the time of her life experimenting with the different dials and switches on the console.

"Those TARDIS specs were written in Gallifreyan," he said, "One of the most complicated languages in the universe. At this moment, there is only supposed to be one being in the universe that can speak it fluently, and it's not Sam."

At that moment, seemingly bored with simply exploring the circuitry, Sam appeared at the Doctor's side. She was bright eyed and much more at ease than she had been previously.

"This place is amazing!" she told them, flashing one of her brilliant smiles.

The Doctor returned the smile kindly. "Thank you," he told her, "but you said that you needed my help with something?"

"Oh, yeah," Sam's smile wavered as she remembered her current situation, "I really do."

"Well, why don't you sit down and tell us about the problem?" Clara asked, gesturing towards one of the jump seats.

Sam nodded and started making her way to the seat, when she stopped mid-walk. "Oh!" she gasped, "I better get my suitcase before—" The rest of her sentence was lost in the wind as the teenager flew out of the TARDIS, leaving a confused Doctor and Clara in her wake.

When they found her, Sam was staring into the distance hopelessly.

"What's wrong?" Clara asked her.

"My suitcase," she all but wailed, "I left it right over there at Rose's bench and now—"

"What?" the Doctor butted in.

"Rose's bench," Sam repeated heavily. She looked to be on the verge of tears, "You know, that little bench right over there with the plaque that says Rose Tyler."

So she didn't know who Rose was, then, the Doctor noted. Not yet, anyway. He found himself wondering once again what his link to this girl was.

"I had almost five-hundred pounds in that suitcase," Sam said sadly, "Sally is going to kill me."

Clara watched as the girl abruptly stopped talking, her eyes glazing over and her expression going blank. For whatever reason, Sam's words seemed to cause something to break inside of her, because the next moment Clara was holding Sam as she was sobbing into her shoulder.

Clara looked at the Doctor helplessly, but he didn't seem to have any clue what to do either.

"Hey," Clara said softly, stroking her back, "Why don't we go inside the TARDIS and make you some tea?"

"I don't have anywhere to go," Sam said through the sobs, "I don't have anyone or anything. I just don't know what to do."

Then Sam pulled back and looked at the Doctor over Clara's shoulder. "They say you have the answers, Doctor," she said through narrowed, red-rimmed eyes, "I've lost my family, my friends and the only life that I ever knew, so tell me, what do I do now?"

The Doctor just looked at her, not knowing what to tell her. What could he tell her that would make her situation seem in any way less bad than it was?

"What do I do!?" she shouted at him, new tears forming in her eyes.

He recognised the look on her face. It was a look that he knew only too well. It was the look of a person who had lost everything and everyone that she ever cared about. No one could console a person with a look like that.

No, the only thing that could heal what Sam was feeling was time.

And that was what the Doctor would give her.

Suddenly, he knew exactly why he had been sent to this time and place. It should have been obvious from the start, really. The Doctor came to his resolve in a matter of seconds.

"I'll tell you what you do now, Sam," the Doctor said with a small smile, "You're going to come travelling with Clara and me in the TARDIS."

This answer threw both Sam and Clara for a loop. "What?" they said in unison.

The Doctor smiled. "If you want," he told her, "Clara and I would love to have you."

Sam looked at Clara, who had caught on to the Doctor's decision and was now smiling warmly at her. "It's quite a laugh," Clara told her encouragingly, "I mean, it does get scary from time to time, but for the most part it's absolutely amazing."

"Time and relative dimension in space," Sam said under her breath, looking at the TARDIS in the distance.

She had only met these people a few moments ago. They were complete strangers. For all Sam knew, they could be lying about not being Time Agents and gearing up to take her to headquarters for experimentation. But something about the Doctor's offer just felt right. As though she had to take it.

As though it was—fate.

Sally had told Sam about the Doctor over the years, of course.

In fact, she had told Sam so many of the Doctor's stories that he had become like a fabled superhero in her eyes. Instead of fairy-tales before bedtime, she would nag Sally to tell her more about the Doctor's travels. About how he went to far-off places and saw strange sights. About how he helped people and did the impossible, always saving the day in the end.

And here he was, the Doctor, in the flesh, asking her to join him.

There really was no choice in the matter.

"A cup of tea would be nice," Sam said, but the Doctor knew what she really meant.

With a smile he led the way to the TARDIS, knowing in his heart that the journey with this particular strange girl had only just begun.