And as he spoke he spoke ordinary words although they did not feel
"I'm fine," Rose says again. "Honestly, what is wrong with you people?" She looks up at all the people clustered around her bed. Pete, Owen Harper, Ian, the Doctor. All she needs is her mum to walk in to make this complete.
"Owen says you need another day here," Pete says firmly. "I agree."
"Dad, I can go right home and rest."
"She won't rest," the Doctor says. "She'll try to read or watch tv or drive herself crazy. You know she can't stay still for very long."
She glares at him for this lack of loyalty. "Look who's talking."
"Just another day," Owen says reassuringly.
"Jake went home!" she protests. "You let him walk right out."
"Simon took him home," Pete says. "And is staying for a while to make sure he's okay."
"Jake didn't lose his eyesight for as long," Owen tells her. "We'll keep an eye on you for another day, then you can go home."
"Dad," Rose says, trying again. Pete shakes his head. "Sorry, Rose. Tomorrow. I'll come by and see you later."
"Bye," she says sulkily as he walks out.
"Cheer up, Rose," Ian says. "It could be worse. You could have lost your eyesight forever."
"Yes, Ian, thank you for that heartening thought." The Doctor shoots him a dirty look. "No need to upset her."
"Who's upsetting her?" Ian wants to know. "Anyway, Rose, you're fine and I'm happy to see it. I'll see you later."
"Thanks for coming by, Ian," Rose says. She's lying in a hospital bed in the middle of Torchwood, but she does remember her manners.
"You're getting awfully testy about this," the Doctor observes when he and Owen are the only ones left. "It's a good thing you're not sick very often."
"I'm not testy."
Rose would deny it, but she has a serious pout on her face. The Doctor smiles and kisses her. "You're fine."
"I know! So why can't I go home?"
"Soon," he promises her.
"All right," Owen says briskly. "Your turn, Dr. Smith."
The Doctor turns to look at him. "Sorry? My turn for what?"
"Let me look at your hand. You shouldn't have been out there with them. You'll get an infection and we'll have to cut it off."
Rose laughs. "Again?"
"That's not mean to be funny," Owen tells her. "Come on, Dr. Smith."
"I'll be back," the Doctor promises Rose. She nods. "I know. Take care of your hand."
"Have a seat." Owen gestures to a chair in one of the small exam rooms down the hall. "I just want to wash it out and rewrap it."
The Doctor holds out his hand, resting his arm on the exam table beside him.
"How does it feel?"
"A bit better. Still painful, of course. I may have done some damage yesterday, trying to get to Rose and Jake."
"You think?" Owen murmurs. He removes bandages that are stained and dirty. "You broke some blisters. You'll be lucky if they don't get infected."
"Thanks for that hopeful thought."
"Anytime," Owen says absently. He goes to the door. "Maggie!" he calls to his medical tech. "Bring me supplies!"
Maggie brings him the cleansers and wraps he wants, and Owen sets about cleaning the Doctor's hand.
"I'm rather attached to this hand," the Doctor says. Now that he knows Rose is all right he feels remarkably relaxed. Even the pain of cleaning a burn and blisters is pleasant. "I lost my first hand just hours after I turned into the new old me. Had it cut off in a sword fight. Came across it a year or so later. Lucky I did, because I was able to funnel some regeneration energy into it, and that spare hand helped form into me. And here I am."
Owen and his tech exchange a long look. "Did you hit your head yesterday?" Owen asks, looking at him closely. He picks up a light and shines it into the Doctor's eyes. Beside him the tech watches the Doctor warily.
"I'm fine," the Doctor assures him.
"It doesn't sound like you're fine to me. Sounds like you've got concussion."
"What, because of what happened to my hand? I saved all of Earth that day. Well, both days. And many times before that, actually."
"You've got a superhero complex or something." Owen finishes cleaning up and dumps the old bandages into a basin that Maggie holds out for him. "Here. This is something we've been developing upstairs." Owen unwraps a package of long fabric. "It'll keep your bandages clean." The fabric forms into a fingerless glove. He slowly slides it over the Doctor's hand, settling it over the thick bandages he's wrapped around the burn. The glove covers his palm entirely at the base of his fingers and reaches to his wrist. The color seems to fade and then blend in with the Doctor's skin.
"What is that?" he asks, curious. You can barely tell that there's a bandage there at all.
"Alien tech," Owen says briefly. "It'll help keep it all clean and dry. Take it off at night. Let the hand breathe at night, don't forget that. Put on this cream to keep infection away."
"Thanks, Owen."
"You want to thank me? Stop talking about growing body parts or I'll have to section you."
The Doctor is on his way back to Rose when his mobile rings.
"Hello?"
"This is Derek. Sam Lively's assistant."
"Yes! Hello, Derek. Have you heard anything?"
"No. Have you?"
"No, sorry." The Doctor feels bad at the anxiety in the other man's voice. "We had an incident yesterday and I wasn't able to look into Sam's disappearance."
"Okay, listen, Dr. Smith. We're about to start shooting a new movie here. The studio heads want us to go ahead without Sam and Clive. We lose money otherwise. Most of the cast and crew are going on location to film the first shots."
"That sounds nice," the Doctor says politely.
"There won't be as many people here in the studio. I can't be seen with you, and if you're caught you're on your own. But I can leave Sam's office unlocked and you can come in and look around."
The Doctor considers this. "All right. When will everyone be gone?"
"They're all leaving now. I'll be with them. Come by in about an hour, and you should be safe."
"Thanks."
The Doctor hangs up with Derek and returns to Rose's room. Sitting beside her, he holds her hands and watches her watch him as he tells her what Derek said.
"Go," Rose says.
"I don't want to leave you," he starts.
She smiles at him. "Thanks. I know. But this is important. Come back and tell me about it."
"Oh, Rose, of course I'll come back."
He hasn't left her bedside since she came back to Torchwood. Rose smiles again.
"I'm all right for now. Why don't you go home and change your clothes before you go to the studio?"
The Doctor looks down at his clothes. He hasn't changed or showered since the day before.
"Maybe I'd better."
She nods. "Yes, you'd better."
"Are you sure?"
"My mum is coming by. I'm sure."
"Okay." He leans over and kisses her, staring hard into eyes that he'd been worried would never look back at him again. So much scarier, in a way, than realizing she'd lost her entire face. Then he'd been able to confront the Wire and restore Rose back to her perfect condition. He was powerless here to restore her vision, and that was hard to deal with.
oOoOo
He stops at their flat to shower, taking care of his hand even though Owen assured him the bandage was waterproof. He changes into khaki trousers and a white shirt. After a few moments' debate with himself, he adds a tie. He doesn't know what a person walking around a movie studio should look like, but he thinks it's better to be over dressed than not.
He drives to the address Derek gave him over the phone, having a moment of panic when he sees the security guard at the parking lot.
"Can I help you?" the guard asks.
The Doctor thinks a few unkind thoughts about Derek. He had not mentioned an armed guard perched at the entrance to the studio. "I have a meeting with someone," the Doctor says. "Over there in that building. Can I park here?"
Either the security guard doesn't care or privacy is not an issue here. He shrugs. "Anywhere is fine."
"Thanks."
The Doctor parks and walks into the main building. A sign on the door announces that it's the Sam Lively Production Studios. The logo below the name is of an old-fashioned movie camera. He's seen it so many times, at the start and end of movies, that he's surprised it took him so long to notice the name. He's usually more observant.
A young woman sits at the reception desk. She has blonde hair swept back in a ponytail and a phone headset on her head. She's chewing gum and reading a magazine. She looks up and sighs when he walks in.
"Can I help you?"
The Doctor clears his throat. "Sam Lively?"
She holds his gaze, eyes squinted almost shut. He has the oddest impression that she's taking his measure. Not for the first time, he wishes he had the psychic paper.
"Mr. Lively is out of the studio at the moment," she tells him, setting the magazine down.
"Oh, that's all right," he says quickly, not wanting to alarm her. "Is his assistant around? Derek something? He's the one I need to see."
She relaxes, barely noticeably, but the Doctor takes note. "He should be in his office. Down the hall and to the left."
"Thanks."
He finds Derek's office and glances in. It's empty. He doesn't know anything about movie studios, but the place does seem oddly quiet. Taking note of Derek's name on the door, he goes further down the hall, looking for Sam Lively's office.
Ah, right here. The door is almost, but not quite, closed. Easing through it, he steps inside, closes the door behind him, and turns on the light.
It's a large office, painted a pale blue. There are movie posters on the wall, and a row of statues sit upon a shelf next to the window. He recognizes them as Spocks, the science-fiction industry's award for movies.
Moving to the desk, which is covered with papers, he opens up the drawers. He doesn't know what he's looking for - aliens in this universe may be totally different from what he's seen. It's happened before. A note proclaiming responsibility for Sam's disappearance would be nice, but he knows it probably won't happen.
On the desk is a picture of a man in his forties, with dark hair and an engaging smile. He assumes this is Sam. Most human females would probably find him attractive. As he reaches for the picture frame his arm knocks something off of the desk. He steps back and looks around the floor. A small model of the Earth is rolling around on the carpet. He kneels down to catch it and it rolls away under the desk. He reaches for it before it rolls too much farther away.
"What do you think you're doing?"
It is the voice, not the question, that makes his head jerk up. "Ow!" His head has hit the underside of the desk. Rubbing it, he slowly backs out from under the desk, stands up, and looks around.
A woman is standing there, in a dark green business suit. She's holding a stack of file folders and is tapping her foot, waiting for his answer.
She has long red hair, and he can't help the slow smile that is spreading across his face.
"I'm waiting," she says. "What are you doing?"
The Doctor is grinning like an idiot and doesn't care. "Hello!"
"Hello. What are you doing here?" she asks again.
"What am I...doing here?" he repeats.
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." She spaces each word slowly, as though she were speaking to someone very slow. "You don't belong in this office. Who let you in here?"
He can barely focus, can barely concentrate. It's Donna, right here in front of him, looking exactly the same as before.
Well. She's not his Donna, not the one he left behind. This is a different Donna, one with her own life and own story and one who doesn't know him at all.
But he still can't stop smiling. It's so good to see her, and he's surprised at how much he's missed her.
"I'm getting security," she says. "If you're still here when they get here it's your own fault." She moves back to the door and the Doctor snaps back to reality.
"No, wait!" He lunges after her. "Donna, just a -"
She spins around, holding the files in front of her like a shield.
"How do you know my name?" she demands.
"Er...someone mentioned it on the way in?" His voice goes up hopefully.
She narrows her eyes. "I don't know who you are, but you have three seconds to leave!"
"Donna, listen to me, just listen -"
"I'm calling security!"
"I followed you to ask for your phone number!" he says in desperation.
"My what?" she asks incredulously.
"Your number. Telephone number. To...to see if you'd fancy a drink." He tries not to wince as he says the words.
"Do I fancy a drink? What makes you think I would?"
"I don't! I don't know! I thought...if you were free..."
"If I were free? Do I look single to you?" she demands.
"No, no, you - blimey, you're in a bad mood today, aren't you?"
Her eyes widen. "Security!" she calls. "Security!"
"No!" He leaps forward. "Please! I just need your help! Just answer a question for me! That's all!"
She stares at him for a long moment. "All right. Just five minutes. And then I'm calling security."
oOoOo
She's allowed him to sit down with her at the commissary. It's empty except for them and the woman behind the counter, who's currently perched on a stool reading a magazine and smoking.
"All right," she says briskly. "Here's my watch. I'm counting down. Now tell me what you were doing in there."
Instead of answering her, he's smiling at her, a loopy kind of smile that makes her suspect he's not all there in the head.
"What'd you say your name was?" she asks.
"I'm the Doctor." He's surprised she has to ask.
She simply looks at him, waiting. He recovers quickly. "Yes. John Smith. Dr. John Smith." Even after so long, the name feels strange on his tongue.
"What are you a doctor of?"
"Things. Stuff. Things and...stuff. You know. But you, Donna Noble! What are you doing her?" He beams at her.
Donna shift nervously in her seat. "How do you know my name?"
"Oh, it's not important. You'd never believe it. But you're still Donna Noble, then? Not married or anything?"
She shakes her head. "Was engaged. A few years back now. My fiance died when the Cybermen attacked."
He winces. "I'm sorry."
She nods in acknowledgement. "His name was Lance."
"Lance," he repeats. "Well." Rose may accuse him of being insensitive sometimes, but even he knows better than to tell her she's probably better off without him.
"I'm a script editor," she says, answering his question only to change the subject. "Started out temping and they kept me on here."
"What's your job? What's a script editor?"
"I read the movie scripts. Make sure they make sense. Mind you, it's all aliens and body snatchers, so I never know what's supposed to make sense or not. But Mr. Lively likes me."
"Lively?" the Doctor repeats swiftly. "As in Sam Lively?"
"Yeah. Do you know him?"
"I'm trying to meet him. D'you think you could help me?"
She slaps the table and stands up. "Of course. Another writer with a screenplay that's gonna be a hit, if it could only be seen by the right person."
"No, I don't have a screenplay."
"They all have screenplays. Full of aliens and bodysnatchers and time travel. Sorry, spaceman."
"Donna, wait! I don't have a screenplay. Honestly. I'm just looking for Mr. Lively."
"Make an appointment," she tells him, and walks away.
He sits at the table by himself for a long time.
oOoOo
Jackie calls him on his mobile. He answers it absently as he's driving home. As soon as he hears Jackie's voice he curses to himself. He's driving to the flat instead of to Torchwood, where Rose is. Jackie's words have him remaining on his current route.
"Are you there, Doctor? Can you hear me?"
He rolls up the windows in the car. "Yes, Jackie. Hello."
"I'm bringing Rose home. She didn't want to stay there another night. Are you coming home?"
"I'm on my way," he says, even though it's too early to leave work for the day.
"I'll wait 'til you get here, then, but then I have to go. Tony has a school play this afternoon."
He smiles at the thought. "I'm sorry we'll miss it. Tell Rose I'll be home soon."
Rose has her own ideas about who should be taking care of her. When he gets home Jackie has already left, and Rose is in the kitchen, chopping something up with a long sharp knife.
"Rose?" He walks into the room, stunned to see her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making dinner," she says. "Is it that big a surprise?"
It's not, really. She's cooked since she was small, and she's very good at it. "It's only a surprise because you're supposed to be resting." He walks over to her and frames her face in his hands. "Your eyes look good."
"I can see just fine. I passed all of Owen's tests and everything."
He slides his hands down to her back and draws her close for a hug, ignoring the knife that's trapped between them. "Where's Jackie?"
"I sent her home. I don't need a babysitter."
"You were hurt. We just need to be careful."
"Well, I'm fine." She goes back to chopping up vegetables. He sits down at the table and stares at the wall.
Rose lets him sit silently for a few minutes. Something is wrong, and he'll tell her when he's ready.
The vegetables are all chopped and Rose is losing patience. Leaving the chicken wrapped up for now, she sets the knife down and turns around to face him.
"Love?"
He looks up from his contemplation of the floor. "Yes, Rose?"
"What is it? Did you find something out at the movie studio?"
A look of pain and confusion crosses his face, and Rose feels an irrational stab of fear. Forcing it down, she turns and starts chopping the vegetables into even smaller pieces.
"I saw Donna today," he says.
"Oh? That's good." Rose hears what he's said and drops the knife. Turning back around, she looks at him from across the kitchen. "Donna. Donna Noble?"
"Yes, Donna Noble. Who else?"
"Well, is it, is it our Donna? I mean, it can't be. Can it?" Her voice rises in uncertainty, and he understands what she thinks happened. Donna Noble survived the genetic meta-crisis, survived having a Time Lord brain within a human body. And came to this world with someone else.
The someone else being himself, of course.
Well, the other him. Not that he's a duplicate in any way. He's clearly his own distinct, separate person, totally different from that other Doctor.
The Doctor that Rose thinks has returned. It's like a knife in the gut to even think about it.
Still.
But...
Even if it did ever happen...
Well. It's not going to happen, is it? Not ever.
"It's not our Donna," he says firmly. "It's the Donna who belongs here. She works for Sam Lively."
She nods, as though he's just confirmed something she already knows. "I didn't think he'd come back."
"What, you don't think he'd want to pop in, see how things are going?"
"That's probably the last thing he'll ever want to do. Isn't it?" She's not accusing him, she's simply stating a fact. One that they both know already.
"No, he won't come back of his own free will. I'm sorry."
She gets that exasperated look she gets with him sometimes. "Why are you being sorry? He won't come back. That's okay. We don't need him."
That's something he didn't know. "We don't need him?"
"Of course not." Rose can't believe she even has to say it. "We're here together. He'd just muck it up, wouldn't he?"
He shakes his head. "Oh, Rose."
She leans down and hugs him, right where's he's sitting. "Don't ever think that again," she whispers in his ear. "I wouldn't go with him for all the planets in the universe."
"All the tea in China?"
"Definitely not."
"All the Vitex on Earth?"
"Oh, never."
"All the chips you can eat?"
She stops to think about that one and he glares at her. She giggles.
"Not even for chips," she says solemnly. "But it might be a hard decision to make."
He pulls her down on to his lap. "So it's not our Donna from home," he says. "But it is Donna."
"Really," Rose says thoughtfully. "Who would have thought?"
"It is a bit strange," he admits. "She was a temp, before. Now she's a story editor."
"Yeah? What's that do?" Rose stands up and moves to the chicken to cut it up.
"She reads movie scripts. Edits them or make sure they make sense, or something."
"For Sam Lively."
The musing note in her voice makes him look at her. "Rose?"
She's standing still, holding up her knife. "We're looking for Sam, right?"
"And Clive."
"Clive. Did you look for him at all?"
He clears his throat. "I may have forgotten, what with Donna showing up."
"Understandable. If we can befriend Donna, maybe we could have an in at the studio and look around for real. With a purpose."
He looks troubled. "I'm not looking to use her, Rose."
"I'm not saying we use her, love. I'm saying if we explain to her what's going on, maybe she'll help us."
"Rose." He gives her that look again, the one that says she's just a sad little human who doesn't understand anything. "I should tell her that we're from a parallel universe and that I was created from her counterpart there and we need help tracking down her boss, who is an alien in disguise?"
"Well, of course I don't mean telling her that. Not all at once."
"Not all at once - not ever!"
"We've told people before."
"People at work. People who know about aliens. People who know aliens are real and aren't just some movie construct."
"But she could help us," Rose says patiently.
"We can ask for her help without telling her what's happening. If her boss is missing she'll cooperate."
"Or call the police."
He slumps in his chair. "Bloody hell."
"Love?" Rose asks. Something is wrong, and while she thinks she knows what it is, he's acting a bit out of character here.
He looks troubled. "Everything that happened to Donna in our world. You asked her to die to fix the world. She lost her memories because she couldn't live with them in her head. That's assuming that she survived at all. It's not fair to drag this world's Donna in on something like this."
Rose's heart breaks a little. He's never stopped missing Donna. She was his good friend, and she's gone. Knowing that Rose was still alive in this world had made it bearable while they were apart. Knowing that Donna has no memory of him is so painful.
"You met her for a reason. Maybe we're supposed to let her help us."
"I don't know that I can, Rose."
She frames his face in her hands and smiles down at him. "Yes," she tells him. "You can."
Her faith in him is astounding. That she thinks he can do whatever he has to, that he can save the world whenever it needs saving, that he can love her when he's lost himself and his world and his entire existence.
"All right," he says as she kisses him. "I'll ask her."