The Doctor woke to find himself in one of the TARDIS's bedrooms, cool sheets covering his new and naked body. On the bedside table there was a cup of tea. His fingers touched the mug and he made a noise of appreciation: it was still warm.
He drained the cup, wondering whether Rose (assuming it was her, of course) had known the drink was the perfect antidote to regeneration sickness or if it had been a happy accident. He put the cup down and swung his legs out of bed. The wardrobe of this room was mirrored and he examined the reflection in it for a few moments, flicking his new, over-large ears and tracing his long straight nose. Longer and lankier seemed to be the overall theme, which bought some compensations for his new face. Not the most conventionally attractive of forms, he supposed, but certainly satisfactory.
There was a pair of black trousers on a coat hanger, along with a green v-necked jumper, a leather jacket and a pair of black shoes. On the desk chair the helpful someone had even thought to include boxers and socks. He dressed quickly and then headed out into the corridor.
He half expected to find Rose in the kitchen, perhaps boiling the kettle to make another pot of tea. Instead, she was in the control room, muttering to herself as she tried to decipher the readout on the TARDIS's screen.
"Hey!" he found himself yelling, "Who said you could touch that?"
Rose turned, smiling. "Glad to see you're awake." Her smile faded as his scowl remained fixed. "I'm sorry," she said, "I know I shouldn't have. But there wasn't even enough power to make the kettle boil, so I thought I should bring some of the minor systems back online."
The Doctor ran his hands over the shattered controls, taking in the information on the screen. "How'd you know how to do that?" he murmured.
Rose blushed. "My Doctor was... teaching me how to use his TARDIS. I didn't get very far," she said, "But I can at least get life support working, and basic power." She held out something cylindrical. "I found this under the grating."
He took it from her solemnly. "It's a-"
"-Sonic screwdriver. I know."
He sat down on one of the battered chairs, frowning again. Rose found she was grinning, she'd forgotten how often his face had creased in that brooding expression.
Not his face, she thought suddenly. It was all too easy to pretend this was the old Doctor, but she'd long ago learnt that hiding from harsh reality only made dealing with it later more problematic.
"How did you get here, Rose Tyler?" he asked, saying her name as if he was seeing how the words sounded.
The story came hesitantly at first, as she struggled to recall all the details. The Doctor listened intently, his brow furrowed, and didn't interrupt or exclaim. She saw his knuckles whiten as she spoke of the Dalek's Sphere, his frown deepen as she told of Torchwood's meddlings with the fabric of time and space but he remained silent until she had almost reached the end of the story, when her voice began to crack slightly.
"And then... he sent me away again, to be safe-"
"Again?"
Her tongue darted out over her lips as she tried to think of the right words. "We'd fought the Daleks before. The Doctor sent me home in the TARDIS and told me to forget him."
"And that's when you looked into the Heart?" His voice was harsh but there was a nameless emotion in his eyes.
She nodded. "I don't remember everything after that. But I know that I-we... we destroyed them, and the Doctor..." she swallowed, "The Doctor kis- I mean, took the Time Vortex and then... regenerated."
"Into me?"
She was shocked at his phrasing. "No. From you."
He nodded, as if to himself. "So, he sent you away again..."
"I couldn't leave him," she managed. She hated herself for the tears stinging her eyes now, but could do nothing to stop them slipping silently onto her cheeks. "And so we opened the void, to destroy them all. But...I nearly fell into the void... someone from here came through for a moment to save me, and took me back. And then I was stuck on this side, and him on the other and there wasn't a path home..."
"You never saw him again?"
"Yes, I did. Just once," she said, wiping her eyes. "There was time to send one transmission. Just one... goodbye."
The Doctor was silent, his mouth a stony line. "I'm sorry," he offered after a while, aware it would never be enough.
Rose shrugged, calm again, ashamed for letting the few tears fall. "It was six years ago." She sniffed. "What happened to you, anyway, to leave the TARDIS in this state?"
She'd spoken lightly, but his face seemed to darken, another almost forgotten expression her Doctor had worn less often since regenerating. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I should have..." Realisation suddenly dawned. The dreams...
She took his hand, instinctively, remembering the words of a later Doctor.
"You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold."
"Doctor?" she ventured after a while. He seemed to stir from whatever place in his own mind he had been occupying.
"Mm?"
"How did... how did you know I was the Bad Wolf?"
Blue eyes bored into brown. "I dreamt it. When I was unconscious, before you came into the TARDIS."
"How?" Rose asked, as he released her hand at last.
"Now that," he replied, standing up and crossing to the console, "Is a very good question. And here's another. Why now, why Earth? Why did the TARDIS land here?"
"The Autons," Rose said, pointing at him, "They turned up last week."
"The TARDIS must have picked up their signal, out of place and out of time. And so she sent me here, even when she was badly broken..." His grin was returning, and Rose was almost loathe to say the words and rob him of it.
"But we got rid of them last week."
"You? You got rid of them?"
"Not just me, but yeah. I negotiated with the Nestene consciousness," she retorted, mildly irked by his disbelief. "It's pretty easy if you don't walk in with a tube of anti-plastic as 'insurance.'"
His shark's smile merely widened. "I did that?"
"Yeah. It's how we met. I saved you life," she said, almost mocking.
He took a step forward and leaned forward, so his nose was inches from hers. "You can feel it, can't you?"
Wrong-footed by his sudden closeness she shrugged. "Feel what?"
"The tingle in your fingers, on the back of your neck," he said, touching his own with his hand, "The feeling that-"
"They're gone," she said, understanding flooding her. Almost dreamlike she raised a hand to her own neck. "I dreamt of the Time War."
"I think it's the TARDIS... the telepathic link you once shared with one, one which must have been a clone of this model, or your key wouldn't have fit the lock..." His hands were suddenly inches from her temples and she recoiled, wrapping his fingers with her own.
"That's not the first time you or your TARDIS has gone rummaging around in my brain without permission," she said angrily, "But it's polite to ask."
He had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. "You know about that too? I'm sorry."
She let go. "You can look for whatever you want. But you're not to change anything, or make me forget or... or anything like that."
He gave her an exasperated look. "Do you really think I would do that?"
She smiled. "No. But it was worth-"
He was inside her mind and she was suddenly lost in her own memories.
The Nestene consciousness, writhing in front of her, metal in her hands as she saw him struggle
the remains of Earth, floating in space, destroyed while no one watched and mourned by so few
woman wept
hanging from a barrage balloon, union jack across her chest in the middle of a German air raid
a cat in a nun's wimple
a Dalek floating up stairs effortlessly, a metal menace that chilled her blood
Cardiff, the rift, the TARDIS on charge
a pair of mad red eyes and voice, a voice that made her want to clamp her hands over her ears and scream for it to stop
the Doctor helping her up from the floor, hugging her
a kiss
She was staring at the Doctor's face again, his expression unreadable once more. "I'm not him," he said, softly. "I might look the same, and act the same, but I'm not him."
"I know."
"I'm not in love with you like he is," he said, his tone still tender. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment at the words, for a reason she couldn't really fathom.
"I know."
"It will be different, for me and you."
"I know."
He smiled. "It was never just about him, though, was it?"
She shook her head, almost ashamed. "No."
"It was about seeing the universe and... a better way of living," he said, and she flinched to hear her own words thrown back at her.
"Yeah."
"I can give you that."
"I know."
"Is it worth it? Worth a London flat, a family, friends?"
The answer doesn't come as quickly as it once might. Leaving her mother, Peter, her brother, Mickey, Jake... her job, even.
"More than worth it," she grins, after a seconds' grace.