Chapter 1

October 2014 (Pete's World calendar)

The Doctor, or rather the version that was born of a metacrisis between the original and Donna Noble, stood with Rose Tyler on Darlïg ulv Stranden and looked at the spot where the TARDIS had stood only a minute ago. Part of him hated the Time Lord Doctor with every ounce of his strength. After all, as the TARDIS vanished from sight, all of time and space was pulled out from under his feet. The universe was no longer his playground, even if it never really had been. To add insult to injury, he'd been abandoned because he saved the universes from the Daleks. He was too "dangerous" to be left alone. And so the other Doctor had just tossed him away, denying him everything he had ever known, regardless that he hadn't actually lived through the memories that he had. It had been bad enough when the Time Lords had exiled him to Earth without the means to travel through time and space. But to be exiled by… well… himself? To be rejected and cast out by the one person in the entire universe he could actually call a brother and a father, the only person who was his connection to his people? Not to mention also being separated from the TARDIS, his one companion throughout all of his lives. It was far more painful a punishment than anything anyone had ever done to him.

Another part of him, though, loved the Time Lord Doctor for abandoning them on that beach. The act had given him the one person he wanted with all of his single human heart: Rose Tyler. Oh, he had loved others before her, he admitted. But, as seemed his fate, they all left him or vice versa, whether by choice or not. He'd left Cameca in ancient Aztec Mexico despite his feelings for her, his Academy teachers' lessons in his young head telling him how history – even the tiniest event - could not ever be changed. Jo Grant had fallen in love with someone else, never knowing how much he loved her. He'd left Sarah Jane Smith, not wanting her to endure the ridicule of the Time Lords in an era when Humans were not allowed on Gallifrey and not returning for her out of fear of her mortality. Grace Holloway – the only person he'd fallen in love with in less than twenty-four hours – had chosen to stay on Earth rather than travel the universe with him, something he accepted graciously.

And then there was Rose, a fantastic teenage girl – now a beautiful woman - who literally saved his life, whom he had loved with all his hearts, and who had been taken from him at the Battle of Canary Wharf, the same person who now stood beside him, holding his hand. Because of this, the Time Lord Doctor's abandonment of him on that beach in Norway was probably the greatest gift he had ever given anyone. He'd allowed his own hearts to be broken so that Rose and his metacrisis clone could have each other for the rest of their lives. And in the end, they all won despite the initial heartache. Rose got her Doctor, the Time Lord didn't have to watch the woman he loved grow old and die without him, and he, the metacrisis, got what he had always wanted, the one adventure he could never have had before.

He wondered for a moment about his memories, those precious things that were so important to a Time Lord, or so he had told a couple of his previous companions. He wasn't sure what that statement meant for him in particular, since his own memories – the ones that weren't made by the Time Lord – actually started on the TARDIS as it was on the verge of being destroyed. And yet, he remembered everything as if he himself had done those one thousand plus years of life – both the Time Lord Doctor's lives and Donna Noble's life. He decided that it was definitely an odd thing to have someone else's memories, especially two distinctly different people at the same time, and yet know that the memories were still your own. All of these thoughts literally had gone through his mind in less than a second.

Pulling his thoughts away from himself, he turned his head and regarded the woman beside him who, feeling his hand and his eyes, turned her head to look at him as well. "You okay?" he questioned, noting that Rose still looked stunned at the disappearance of the TARDIS. There was an air of utter confusion around her that he found almost tangible.

The answer didn't come immediately as Rose gazed on the Doctor as if he had just spoken in a language she didn't understand. "Yeah," she finally said, giving a hint of a nod.

"You sure?" he pressed gently, concern for her showing in his face and tone of voice.

"Yeah," she assured. "I'm fine. Just… having a time taking everything in. You know? I mean… he didn't even say goodbye."

The Doctor squeezed her hand gently. "It was too painful for him," he told her quietly.

Her eyes met his again. "How do you know?"

"I'm him, remember? Same voice, same face, same memories… same feelings. Those words I whispered in your ear, they're his feelings too."

"But he didn't say the words. You did," Rose replied, her eyes showing a little hurt.

He swallowed at her words. "So… you would prefer him, even though we are the same man?"

"I didn't say that," she protested in a low tone. "I'm just… I'm having trouble right now and I just need some time to sort it all out."

The Doctor nodded his head slowly at her explanation, knowing that the whole situation was a bit awkward. He too didn't quite feel right, his mind a little mottled. The only thing that made it seem livable was the fact that Rose's hand was still in his… that she hadn't moved away from him.

Even as they continued to hold each other's hands in silence, Jackie Tyler's voice reached them from behind. "Just got off the phone with Pete. He's coming to pick us up in Bergen but he won't arrive until tomorrow. He's arranged a taxi into town and a couple of rooms at the hotel. We need to go up to the nearest road to meet the taxi. Should be here in about half an hour."

"How far is the road?" the Doctor questioned.

"Not far," Rose replied almost automatically. "Probably'll take us ten minutes to get there."

"So, we have about twenty minutes to wait," the hybrid summarized unnecessarily.

"Better than a five hour walk," Jackie commented. She watched with a frown as Rose pulled her hand from the Doctor's and slowly walked away from them to stand just in front of the spot where the TARDIS had stood. The tide was threatening to erase any evidence that the time ship had ever landed there.

The Doctor gave Jackie Tyler a slight nod, letting her know in that one motion that he understood the frustrated look in her eyes. Rose's mother obviously wanted to give her daughter the time she needed without interference from her. At the same time, the wind coming off of the sea was starting to seep into their clothes, making all of them increasingly chilly despite the sunlight. He waited a few long seconds before going up behind her and gently putting his hand on her shoulder to gain her attention. "We should go and find some place warm to wait, get out of this wind," he said gently.

"The wind never seemed to bother you before," she murmured, her eyes shifting to watch the incoming waves.

The Doctor looked at his free hand upon her words, studying it for a moment. "Must have human skin as well as a human heart," he commented. "Well, half-human skin, anyway. I mean, it's a little chilly out but not so much to be completely uncomfortable for me. But based on the way your mother is looking at us, my guess is that it's a little more than chilly in her opinion so it's probably a good idea to get out of the wind as soon as possible." He gave her a gentle smile as he lowered his hand. "Come on. Let's go," he encouraged.

"But…" she started. "What if… he comes back?"

"He won't," the hybrid told her with the bluntness of finality and the softness of sympathy as he turned her to face him. "The walls are closed forever. No more coming here. No more going back." He frowned slightly. "Why do you think he might?"

She hesitated to respond but, when she did, it was quiet. "Five and a half hours."

His frown grew at her answer. "Five and a half hours?" Slowly, realization came to him. "Oh. France on a spaceship. I told you to always wait five and a half hours. Even later programmed the TARDIS around my words. And you waited five and a half hours the last time you were here, didn't you?" Seeing the truth in her eyes, he shook his head. "I didn't come back the last time and he is not coming back this time either. It's far too dangerous. Could collapse both universes. When he said forever, he meant it."

"So did I," she replied with equal bluntness. "I told him I'd stay with him forever."

"You told me you'd stay with me forever at the same time. Because I am him. And now… you can keep that promise. You and me. Forever. If that's what you really want. I mean, you kissed me but… you're sending me mixed signals, Rose. I don't know what to think… except that I love you and… I hope you love me as well." He paused for a moment, watching her face carefully. "Do you love me, Rose?"

She avoided looking at him as she spoke. "I… I don't know."

The hurt in his eyes was palpable as he swallowed and then slowing nodded. "Right." Sniffing slightly, he straightened himself, physically brushing the subject to the side, even though it was still foremost on his mind. "I'm going with Jackie to the road. We'll wait for you there." With that, he returned to the matriarch's side, shaking his head at the look on her face.

The taxi ride to the hotel, the same the Tylers had stayed at the last time they were in Norway, was filled by an awkward silence with Rose obviously pining for the Time Lord Doctor while trying to sort her feelings about the hybrid Doctor, the metacrisis wondering whether or not he was going to be a part of Rose's life after all, and Jackie wanting to fix the situation between them but not knowing how to do so. The moment they arrived at the hotel, Jackie immediately walked up to the front desk to check them in. The Doctor and Rose, for their part, just stood in the foyer, their eyes showing that they still had much on their minds. Occasionally, they would glance at each other, as if wanting to say something but being unable to find the words or being fearful that they might say the wrong ones. Neither noticed how much time had passed in their silence until Jackie came up with two room cards.

She gave the Doctor one of the cards. "Here's your key. Room 301. Rose and I will be in the suite adjoining. Go ahead and get washed up and we'll meet you down here in a half an hour for dinner." She turned to her daughter. "Come on, sweetheart," she instructed and started to walk towards the elevator. She stopped when she noticed that Rose wasn't following her.

Rose hesitated for a moment, glancing at the Doctor. She noticed the expression on his face but didn't know what to make of it. She couldn't remember ever seeing the look in his eyes. At least, not quite like that. The closest she could remember was when she and the Doctor – the other Doctor, the first Doctor, the proper Doctor (she really needed to figure out a way to refer to the Time Lord in comparison to the half-Human beside her) – were aboard the Crucible and the Supreme Dalek had sent the TARDIS into the heart of the Crucible to be destroyed. The Doctor had looked as if he himself were in pain. Now, this Doctor had a similar expression. She struggled with her inner self on whether or not to say anything to him. Her internal struggle, however, was forestalled by Jackie's hand on her arm, gently pulling her away.

"I think he needs some time alone," Jackie told her as she guided her to the elevator.

The Doctor watched in silence as the women left his presence, one of them albeit reluctantly. He wasn't sure whether he should thank Jackie Tyler for her intervention or curse her. Without Rose by his side, he was feeling suddenly more out of his element than before. He had hoped that Rose would want to talk but, at the same time, he found himself unwilling to do that, ironic considering who his "father" and "mother" were. Or perhaps it was thanks to his "parents." Neither the Time Lord nor Donna were much in discussing things that were bothering them personally. They were more likely to explain what was wrong with the other person.

Taking a slow breath, the Doctor exhaled loudly before going to the elevators, catching the next one to come down. Going up to the third floor, he found his room just as the door next to his closed, proving that Jackie and Rose had gone to their room ahead of him. Using the card he'd been given, he walked into the room and let the door close behind him.

The room was comfortable, simple and clean, just like every other nice hotel room he'd seen. There was a full-size bed placed perpendicular to the right wall and a chest of drawers across the way from it. On the other side of the bed by the window was a small table with two large chairs on either side. Near the door to the room was the bathroom, its door wide open to show how well-maintained the housekeeping staff kept it.

He stared at the room for a long moment before sighing. Slowly removing his jacket, he tossed it on the bed and went into the bathroom. Running the water, he used his hands to gather a cupful and splashed it on his face before shutting off the faucet and dabbing his face dry. He didn't know why he felt he had to wash his face. He didn't feel particularly dirty. He supposed he did it just to do something. And, he had to admit, it had felt good to wash away the small amount of dust he had accumulated during their journey to the hotel.

It didn't, however, wash away the odd feeling he'd had ever since the TARDIS disappeared from his sight. Since that moment, there had been a growing uneasiness in his mind which in turn was causing his head and chest to ache. It had been easy to ignore on the bay but now, alone in his hotel room, it seemed determined to overwhelm him. For some reason beyond his understanding, his respiratory bypass system didn't seem to be working. He couldn't seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs, despite having the same lungs, the same respiratory system he'd always had. Okay, so it wasn't the same body that he remembered having. But the respiratory system was the same as his "father's," which meant that he should be able to breathe. And yet, it felt as if his lungs were about to implode due to a lack of air.

The conclave of sudden physical problems caused the Doctor to drop to his knees and then to sit on the bathroom floor, his legs pulled up against him as he desperately tried to regain control of himself.

OOOOOOOOOOO

After a quick clean up on both their parts, Jackie and Rose went down the hotel's main restaurant for dinner. They'd left the hotel room five minutes late so they assumed, given his excellent sense of timing, the Doctor would be waiting for them. Both were surprised to find that they had beaten him down to the restaurant. Five minutes passed and they were starting to wonder if this version of the Doctor was as punctual as the original. After ten minutes of waiting, they were fully worried about the metacrisis.

"I'm going to check on him," Rose told her mother, standing from the table. She hurried from the restaurant, Jackie following quickly as she was determined to help any way that she could.

Once at the hybrid's room, Rose knocked. "Doctor? You all right?" she questioned. "Doctor?" she repeated, knocking on the door again. Not getting a response, she pressed her ear against the door, trying to hear any sign of the Half Time Lord. Her eyes widened and she stepped back in fear when a single brief scream escaped through the closed door.

"Mum, get the manager or a housekeeper… someone who can open the door," she ordered Jackie before pounding on the door. "Doctor! Doctor, open up! Please!"

It took several minutes to get a manager and a hotel security officer who unlocked the door. Without warning, and against protests from the manager and the officer, Rose and Jackie burst into the room. They looked frantically around before Rose found the Doctor curled into a fetal position on the bathroom floor, shaking uncontrollably. She hurried to his side, dropping on the floor to face him.

"Doctor?" she questioned, her worry for him almost tangible.

Seeing the condition of the guest in room 301, the security officer informed the manager, "I'll call for medical assistance." He raised his radio to do just that when a firm voice stopped him.

"No, don't," the Doctor told him bluntly, forcing himself to sit up. "I'll be fine. I just… I need rest, that's all."

The manager looked at him as if he were insane. "Sir, I must insist…"

The Doctor gazed upon the two men intensely. "I said, no medical."

There was an awkward silence in the room in reaction to the Doctor's vehemence. After a moment, seeing that the guest really didn't want their assistance, the hotel staff members slowly left the room.

"What was that all about?" Jackie berated the shaking metacrisis.

He gave her a brief glance. "Half Time Lord, remember? I really don't want to end up on some overly enthusiastic scientist's dissection table." He grimaced in pain, causing Rose to quickly pull him into her arms. He immediately turned and buried his head into her shoulder, grateful for her holding him at that moment.

"Doctor, tell me what's wrong?" she demanded as she tightened her arms around him. "Is this like when you regenerated? Are you having a neural implosion?"

He shook his head slowly. "It's not regeneration," he whispered. "It's something else. My head feels like someone hit me with a sledgehammer, my chest feels like it's about to collapse on itself… But I'm not burning like Donna…" He sobbed slightly. "Poor Donna… poor brilliant Donna…" He cried out, curling in on himself for a moment until the pain subsided. When he came up, however, his eyes were bright. "I'm going through withdrawals," he stated, obviously stunned by revelation. "Isn't that just wizard?"

The women let the comment about Donna slide, both tucking it into the back of their minds to bring the subject up again at a more appropriate time. They looked at the Doctor with a mixture of worry and confusion, unsure how they could help the hurting man.

The Doctor, feeling their puzzled expressions on him, raised his head. "The TARDIS," he explained. "I can't hear her anymore. She might as well be dead. Oh, it hurts! It hurts so much," he grumbled, rubbing his chest slowly. His eyes met with Rose's. "This could get very, very ugly."

Rose eased her hold on the half Time Lord to allow herself to look in his eyes. "Just tell me what to do," she instructed, still unsure exactly what was happening to the Doctor. "Tell me how we can help."

It took a moment for the Doctor to find the words he needed to speak. "Bed. Help me to the bed."

The two women got the Doctor to his feet and, carrying him in between them, carefully guided him to his requested destination. Quickly removing his shoes and trousers – and grateful that he had boxers on underneath – they helped him to lie on the bed, Jackie tucking the covers over him gently.

"Is there anything you need?" Jackie questioned softly. She hesitated a moment. "I don't suppose a cup of tea would help this time."

He laughed sickly. "Don't know if it will help but I doubt it would harm."

"I'll just ring room service then," she replied. "At the very least, it'll warm you up." She moved to do exactly as she said.

Rose, in the meantime, brushed the Doctor's hair with her hand. "What exactly is happening?" she questioned as he shook in the bed.

"Heartache... Withdrawal… Heartachy withdrawal?" he answered, his brow furrowed. "I'm separated from the TARDIS. I mean, really separated, not temporarily or thinking I've been separated from her. Never experienced being really separated from her before. Whenever we were parted from each other, I'd always feel her in my mind regardless of how much time or space divided us or what condition she was in. Even when I thought she was dead, I'd still hear her, thinking it was just an echo of her presence. But now we're in two totally different universes and…" He swallowed tightly, looking into her eyes. He was unable to hide the fear that lay in them. "You hear stories about addicts going into withdrawals when they are forced to go clean. Well… this is sort of like that only worse. Much worse. Because the TARDIS wasn't a fix; she was my constant companion for nearly a millennia. Without her in my mind… it's torture. It hurts so much. I feel like I'm dying." He took a shaky breath, reaching out a hand to take the one that wasn't brushing his hair. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry."

"What for?" she questioned, her voice gentle but still tinged with concern, especially when the Doctor compared what he was feeling to that of dying.

"I… I won't be able to control my actions," he told her. "I'll probably say and do things I don't really mean. It'll be the withdrawals. It won't be me. I just… I just want to apologize ahead of time."

She gave him a small smile. "I've handled withdrawal symptoms before. One of my mates was really into drugs. Me and Mickey sorted him, though. It wasn't pretty."

"This isn't the same, Rose," the Doctor impressed on her firmly. He swallowed tightly, closing his eyes against the painful symptoms he was enduring. "Drastic separation from a TARDIS can drive a Time Lord insane or even kill him. Just the psychological trauma of it…" Slowly his eyes met hers. "I'm scared, Rose. I'm so scared."

Leaning closer to him, Rose kissed his forehead. "Don't you worry," she assured, keeping her voice from quaking with the new knowledge that the metacrisis could die from these "withdrawals." "We're going to take care of you. And you are not going to die. You hear me?"

The Half Time Lord nodded slightly in response, pulling the covers of the bed closer to his face. He was vaguely aware of Jackie picking up his jacket, which had been knocked off the bed and onto the floor as the women laid him down, and hanging it up in the guest closet. Several minutes later, he heard the sound of something thumping against wood and the mumble of voices.

"Doctor?" Rose's voice filtered to his ear. He slowly opened his eyes to look at her. He swallowed slightly at the dryness of his throat. "Mum had some tea and cakes sent up. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that you don't feel up to eating anything. But how about you try, yeah?"

"N'hungry," he muttered even as he slowly sat up in the bed. "Where's Jackie?" he questioned.

"She poured herself a cup, took a cake, and went to the other room. Told her that I'd stay here tonight, make sure you're taken care of." She watched as he grimaced, cradling his head with one hand, his chest with the other. "Still hurting?" she questioned, sympathy in her voice. Seeing him nod slightly, she gently rubbed his arm, hoping the physical contact at least eased his mind if not the pain. "I could have an analgesic sent up," she suggested.

"Best not," he replied quietly. "Don't know how I'll react to it." He scowled as he sniffed the air. "What's that? Is that the tea? Smells bloody awful."

Rose blinked slightly at his words. "No tea, then," she concluded. "Some water?" she suggested. She didn't wait for an answer, moving to the mini-bar and taking out a bottle of said beverage. Opening it, she sat next to the Doctor and gently put it in his hand.

The Doctor stared at the bottle for a moment before slowly bringing it to his lips, take a slow long drink before lowering it. He cringed physically, nearly dropping the bottle in the process and prompting Rose to take the bottle and put it on the nightstand. She watched helplessly as the metacrisis bundled his long legs close to his chest, dropping his head to meet his knees. One arm wrapped around his legs to keep them in place while the other protected the top of his head.

Rose slowly rubbed his back, needing the act of comforting the Doctor as much as she thought he did. "It'll be all right," she tried to assure him.

"It's so quiet," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Too quiet. It hurts so much." There was a long pause. "I'm alone."

"No, you're not," Rose told him, wrapping an arm around him. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Not getting a response, she pressed on. "We're going to get through this together. Yeah?" Again, there was no answer to her words.

Mentally sighing, she laid her head on the Doctor's shoulder and just let herself be there for him. She already could tell that it was going to be a long night.