Chapter 2

The Doctor stared at the wall on the far end of the room from his prone position, Rose sleeping beside him. He couldn't blame Rose for falling asleep. After all, she had obviously worn herself in her successful search for him. Well, for his other self, at any rate. And then there was the Crucible and the defeat of the Daleks. Then being left on Bad Wolf Bay again followed by their journey to the inn where they were spending the night. Even if she had been determined to stay awake for him, she desperately needed and deserved the rest. She certainly didn't need to watch over a Human Time Lord metacrisis going through withdrawals.

Withdrawals, he thought with a quiet huff. There's a word that completely underrates what I'm going through. He remembered cases he'd read in the Academy where Time Lords lost their TARDISes and were unable to receive treatment or replacement TARDISes for one reason or another, most of the time the reason being that the Time Lords were stranded on alien worlds like the Doctor found himself now - you couldn't get more alien than a parallel version of a Level Five planet in a different part of the galaxy. He remembered that, upon reading about those cases, he'd decided he was never going to allow himself to be separated from the new TARDIS he just knew he was going to receive (and probably would have if his marks had been better and he hadn't failed the driving test); he didn't want to either go mad or die from the trauma. Of course, those cases were extremely rare since Time Lords, in general, didn't allow themselves to become intricately involved with a TARDIS, believing that the grown time ships were an inferior form of life. Yes, if a TARDIS died, its owner would feel it. That was unavoidable thanks to the Rassilon Imprimatur. But for most Time Lords, it had been like losing a beloved pet or a friendly acquaintance; it didn't hurt as much as losing a close relative. Unless you allowed yourself to get intricately involved with the TARDIS, that is.

The Doctor never was one to view any species as being inferior however, even sentient intelligent plant life. Certainly not the marvelous TARDIS he had stolen – well, borrowed – from the shipyards on Gallifrey. He'd been fleeing his home world, his granddaughter's hand firmly in his, and had grabbed the first ship he could see, one that hadn't been in the best condition. In fact, the TARDIS had been partially dismantled for scrap parts so, really, his stealing her was more of a rescue than a theft. In the next nine hundred years, he'd literally poured his hearts and soul into repairing her, never quite accomplishing the goal despite his best efforts. By then, their souls were intertwined and she was far more than just a ship, a pet, or an acquaintance to him; she was family. Now, she was gone and the metacrisis was suffering the fate he, as a child, had promised himself never to experience.

He swallowed down the cry of pain that threatened to come from his lips. He wasn't going to wake Rose because his chest and head still felt as if a bulldozer had just run over them. There wasn't anything she could do to help him at any rate, not physically anyway. Surviving the forced break in the telepathic link that came about the minute the TARDIS vanished from the beach was entirely up to how his mind coped with the loss, whether or not he could sufficiently rewire his brain, and his own physical strength in fighting the pain that accompanied the loss. Recovering from such a separation wasn't an easy task for a full-blooded thoroughly-trained Time Lord. He was finding that it was even more difficult for a Human/Time Lord metacrisis, thanks to a very disconcerting decrease in control over his mental faculties. It didn't help in the least that there was nothing but his own thoughts running through his mind. The silence there that replaced the TARDIS' presence only emphasized the loss of his people. When the Time Lords has died, he had the TARDIS' comforting presence to sooth him, to make the loss, painful as it was, at least bearable. Now, there was nothing, not even the faint whisper of another soul. For a being who has had at least a whisper in his mind for his entire life, the silence was quite literally maddening. He was only glad that the concave of mental instability hadn't hit him all at once on the beach but instead chose to build up to the point where it was now; he didn't know how he would have functioned if Jackie and Rose had to care for him from that moment on.

The Doctor shuddered as a cold wave struck him, causing him to quickly slip back under the blankets. His actions inadvertently woke the slumbering human in the same bed as him, her eyelids flickering in a natural attempt to moisten her sleep-dried eyes.

Seeing that there was a gentle haze of light in the room, Rose slowly sat up and looked around to reorient herself. Her eyes were drawn to the still form of the Doctor beside her. She smiled slightly, thinking that he was asleep and grateful for it. The night before when the half Time Lord had explained what was happening to him and that he could die from it, she was more terrified than she had ever been in her life, even more terrified than when she had first faced down a fully-armed and fully-homicidal Dalek. She wasn't sure whether or not she loved the hybrid but she did know that she still wanted him in her life, primarily because he was all that she had left of the Time Lord. He was left in this universe with her, perhaps as a consolation prize, perhaps as an opportunity, and as such this Doctor, regardless of her still mixed feelings about him, was now her Doctor and she needed him even if it was only as a friend. Seeing him seemingly asleep was a kind of reassurance that he would get better… hopefully.

Noting that the sun was peeking through the curtain-drawn windows, she slowly stood from the bed and walked over to them, opening them to allow more sunlight into the room.

"Close the drapes!" came a loud order from the bed, telling Rose that, despite what she had been led to believe, the Doctor was wide awake under the covers.

Startled by the vehemence of the words, she obeyed, leaving enough of a crack to still allow light into the room. Then going to the bed, she gently touched the Doctor's shoulder. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?" Not receiving a response, she took the silence to mean a negative answer to her query and thus erased the reassurance she had felt only moments before. Exhaling slowly, she rubbed his arm comfortingly as she checked the time. Nine o'clock. She had slept much later than she had intended. Jackie had informed her the previous day that their flight back to England via private zeppelin would be waiting for them at the airstrip at noon. Given how far Bergen was, it was necessary to leave for the airport in an hour. Jackie had told her to be ready on time as she wasn't in the mood to stay in Norway for any longer than she absolutely had to.

"We have to get going. We only have an hour until we have to be on the road to the airport," Rose told the Doctor, who remained hidden in the sheets. When he didn't respond, she prodded him verbally. "Doctor, you have to get up and at least eat something."

"N'hungry."

She exhaled slowly, trying to think of how to get the stubborn man to do what was necessary. Deciding that it was better, at the moment, to allow him to stay where he was, she went into the bathroom to shower, washing away the grit of the last couple of stressful days.

The sound of water running and Rose's singing touched the metacrisis' ears. For some reason, the reverberations seemed to lessen the pains in his head and chest. Not by a lot, mind you, but it was better than the silence that had surrounded him during the night. When he thought about it, actually, he realized that even Rose's speaking to him had helped a little, though not as much as her singing. The closest analogy he could come up with was someone with a migraine having their back rubbed; it didn't really stop the pain but it was comforting to know that someone cared. Deciding that he needed to hear more, the Doctor slowly crawled out of the bed and walked over to the bathroom door. He leaned forward against the door and closed his eyes, absorbing the sound of Rose's voice. He wondered why he never noticed just how beautiful her singing voice really was. Had he ever heard her sing before? He pondered on the question as if it were the most important one in the universe, not noticing that the sound of running water had stopped and Rose's singing had shifted into humming every once in a while.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, forcing the Doctor to regain his footing to prevent himself from falling into the room. Rose, for her part, gave a startled cry, not expecting the Half Time Lord to be just outside the door.

"You scared me!" she told him, her voice slightly berating. Her hair was still damp and her clothes seemed to cling to her, indicating that her skin was still a little moist from her shower.

"Sorry," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck; that seemed to be helping the pain as well.

She looked at him with concern. "Feeling any better?"

"No," he admitted. "But can't stay in bed all day, can I? As you said, we have a zeppelin to catch." He glanced over at the window, noting the sunshine coming through it. "That sun hurts my head though," he groaned.

Rose seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Tell you what. Why don't you take a shower or wash up however you want while I go down to the gift shop and pick up a pair of sunglasses?"

"Yeah. Okay," came the quiet response.

Rose nodded at his agreement. "Good." She extended her hand. "Room card?"

"What?" he questioned, seeming a little lost in his own mind. Feeling her hand on his arm, he raised his eyes to her and realized what she had said. "Room card. Right." Digging through his pocket, he retrieved the requested item and put it in her hand. Then, walking past her, he entered the bathroom. He was about to close and lock the door when Rose stopped him, blocking the doorway with her body.

"Considering what happened last night, I think it would be best if you left the door open. You know… just in case," she told him. She gave him a mischievous smile. "I promise not to peek unless I have to."

"Okay," the Doctor responded softly, no humor in his voice, showing Rose exactly how unwell he really felt. He turned to the sink and rested his hands against it, letting it support his weight.

She hesitated to leave, not wanting to leave the metacrisis in case he needed her. On the other hand, she also knew that they were growing more and more pressed for time. Yes, they were going to meet a private zeppelin for their trip to London but she also knew that it wasn't wise to irk her stepfather by making her mum upset. Pete Tyler, while a kind man, tended to sulk for hours when he was upset about something and Jackie's attitude was often a source of his being upset. Rose really didn't want to go home to a frosty household after everything that just happened.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she reassured. "Just… be careful, yeah?"

His shoulders tensed with her words. "I will," he promised, his voice barely audible.

Rose faltered again before taking a breath and exiting the room, wanting to accomplish her task as quickly as possible. Getting down to the lobby and into the gift shop, she glanced at a clock. Only twenty minutes left before they had to leave. She had no doubt that Jackie had already had breakfast – probably room service – and had checked them out, having made payment arrangements with her husband when they checked in.

After selecting a couple of sunglasses which she thought would look good on the Doctor, she picked up two bottles of Vitex and a couple of health bars for their breakfast. She then charged the purchase to their folio before taking her acquisition up to the room.

The moment that she walked in, she was enveloped into a bone-crushing hug from a hyperventilating, half-dressed half-alien.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worry plain in her tone.

"Too quiet," he answered, forcing himself to calm down from what had obviously been a panic attack. "It's just too quiet and my chest and head hurts… well, not as bad as earlier but still… please… please don't leave me alone like that again."

Rose slowly returned the hug, a sad look on her face mixed with fear. Just what exactly had the Doctor – the proper Doctor – left her with? How was she going to make this duplicate who was terrified of silence better? She didn't even completely understand this whole TARDIS withdrawal thing he was going through. Hell, she didn't even know who she was holding, despite her having snogged the socks off of him on the beach.

"It's okay now. I'm here," she told him gently, thankful that her words seemed to ease him enough for him to slowly release his grip on her.

"Sorry," he said, sniffing as he wiped his face with both of his hands. "I'm just… My emotions are all over the place right now. My head and chest still hurt and sometimes I feel like I can't breathe and I can't feel anything in my mind… How do you put up with that? Others who went through this at least could still feel other Time Lords and they still went insane. I've got nothing to hold onto. How am I…" He physically shook from the fear that ran through him. "I need to get back. I have to get back to the TARDIS." He turned his head in the direction of Darlïg ulv Stranden, desperation playing at his features.

Rose forced him to turn his head back towards her and looked into his eyes firmly. "The Doctor said the walls are closed permanently. The Dimension Cannon only worked because Davros ripped the fabric of the universe with his reality bomb, which we prevented. Dimensional retro-closure, remember? You said so yourself. There's no way to go back."

"I have to!" the metacrisis insisted, his eyes blazing. "If I don't, I'm going to die!"

"You are not going to die," Rose insisted. "You're just scared. So am I. You said that death or insanity are worse case scenarios, yes?" Not getting a reaction from him, she pressed. "Yes?"

"YES!" he shouted, angry that she was being so stubborn in not allowing him to go back – didn't matter that he knew he couldn't. "Yes, they're worse case scenarios and they are happening to me right now!"

"No, they aren't!" she yelled back. "You said these withdrawals you are going through could get ugly and that's what happening right now." She watched as he rubbed hard at the right side of his neck as if there were an itch he couldn't salve. "I told you that we'd get through this together and I'm not backing out on that promise. And you are going to be fine. Got it?" Again, he didn't respond to her words, causing her to verbally push him further. "Got it?" she questioned with emphasis.

"Yes, yes! I got it!" he retaliated. His tone dropped abruptly into one of near subservience. "I got it," he repeated, dropping his head slightly to avoid her eyes.

"Good," she told him with a forgiving smile before lifting her shopping bag. "Now, get your trousers and shoes on. We're running late." Seeing him move to obey, she pulled out her sunglass purchases. "Which pair do you want?" she asked, offering them to him as he finished dressing.

The Doctor's hand immediately went to the one that closely resembled the "brainy specs" he used to wear. Removing the tags, he stuck them on his face, gaining a broad grin of approval from Rose.

"Thought you'd want those." She took the tags off of the other pair before putting them on the top of her head. She dug into the bag once more, pulling out an energy drink and handing it over to him. "Drink that," she ordered.

"I'm not thirsty," he mumbled.

"Yes, you are. You're dehydrated. Besides, I know you don't have any kind of appetite for breakfast so you won't actually eat anything even though you need to. At least Vitex will give you some nutrition. I did buy you a breakfast bar just in case you change your mind later. So…" She forced the beverage into his hand.

He gave her a glare. "I'm the one versed in medicine," he protested.

Before she could reply there was a knock at the door, causing them to look towards the entrance.

"Rose, let's go!" Jackie called. "We're late. You missed breakfast, you know."

"We'll be right behind you, Mum," Rose replied before turning to her charge. "Ready?"

He swallowed, rubbing the bottom of his face. "No. I'd rather go back… But I don't have a choice, do I."

"Neither of us have that choice," she replied, regret plain in her words. She exited the room and waited in the hall for him.

The Doctor hesitated before slowly following. He could tell that Rose was having some serious doubts as to whether or not this relationship, which hadn't even really started yet, would even work. He was having doubts himself, especially when it took all his energy to keep himself from running around, screaming his head off and touching everything in sight just to keep distracted from the continued – and he knew permanent – silence in his mind.

The journey to the lobby was quiet, neither of them saying a word even though the Doctor really wanted to talk just to hear something – anything. Instead, he obediently drank the Vitex he'd been given. He had to admit that, for a health drink, it was rather tasty. A bit like pop.

A private sedan was waiting outside of the hotel, into which Jackie and Rose slipped with the ease of familiarity. Seeing Rose just get into the car without a single comment on how posh it was, the Doctor was confronted with the realization that the woman he loved had changed since he had last traveled with her. Not that he didn't expect her to but it was just another thing to add to the list of differences he now needed to get used to, a list that started with the changes in his own biology. Deciding that he needed to focus on the big picture rather than on the details, especially considering that he felt like an orphan being tossed into a foster home (an apt description, considering his situation), he followed them into the car and sat silently as they started the beginning of their trip.

All during the journey to the airstrip, Jackie seemed to talk almost non-stop, for which the Doctor was extremely grateful. Funny, he never thought he would ever like the sound of the woman prattling on about nothing in particular. He'd literally had to order her to shut up that one time in the past, the day Rose's father – her real father – had died. Now he didn't want her to stop. For one, her talking seemed to be having the same effect that Rose's singing in the shower had on him, namely to ease the silence in his mind as well as the aches in his chest and head. For another, she seemed so certain that things would only get better from then on that her enthusiasm was almost contagious, so much so that the three of them were in good spirits through most of the trip in spite of the Doctor's aches. The other thing that helped was Rose's hand in his, which happened almost the moment the car pulled away from the hotel entrance and didn't stop until they came up to a waiting zeppelin over an hour later.

A familiar tall figure stood at the bottom of the boarding stairs, patiently waiting as the three of them got out of the car. The moment they were, Jackie ran to her husband, who was obviously relieved. The Doctor then observed Rose hurry to stepfather and give him a hug, clearly pleased to see him. Noticing that the Half Time Lord was still by the car, she gestured for him to come over, a summons he obeyed slowly.

"Doctor," Pete Tyler greeted, shaking his hand firmly.

"Pete," the Doctor responded in return.

"Jackie said that you would be with her and Rose but she didn't go into details about how you came to be here."

The hybrid scratched his sideburn. "Ah, well… it's a bit complicated. She probably wanted me to do the explaining. I explained it to her in the car but… like I said… complicated. And Jackie isn't know for being complicated."

"Oi!" Jackie warned. "You're begging for a slapping."

The Doctor took a reactive step back at her words, having once been subjected to said slapping. Admittedly, it was during his ninth incarnation but there were some things you just didn't forget.

Pete just laughed at the interaction, gesturing for the group to enter the zeppelin. The four went up the stairs into the large vehicle that would be their means of going to England.

It was indeed a very large vehicle, the Doctor noted as he stepped in just before Pete who, being last on, went to the cockpit to inform the pilot that all were aboard. The entire cabin itself was about the width of an extra-wide airplane and about two-thirds the length. The front room, in which they currently found themselves, was like a small drawing or dining room with two sets of seating areas which consisted of four comfortable chairs surrounding a table. The Doctor imagined that there was also a meeting room, perhaps even a couple of bedrooms and a galley considering the size of the cabin. While his curiosity was telling him to go explore the rest of the vehicle, the throb in his head was informing him that he should at least sit down and rest for a few minutes first.

Any thought of silence and rest, however, was immediately shattered when a young voice cried out with obvious joy.

"Mummy!" a boy – approximately four or five years old, the Doctor observed – said, standing from the collection of toys around him and running to Jackie with wide arms.

"There's my sweetheart!" Jackie crowed with a bright grin, picking up the boy and giving him a tight hug and a kiss on his cheek. "Have you been a good boy for Daddy?"

"Uh-huh! Daddy says when we get home we can have Chinese food," came the response. "Can we, Mummy?"

"Of course, we can," she assured him. "Now, go give your sister a hug." She put the boy down, allowing him to hurry three steps to Rose, who immediately picked him up, a smile on her face.

"Hi, Tony!" she greeted, hugging him. "Oh, I've missed you! Missed me?"

"Yup," he responded, popping his 'p' in a familiar manner. He pointed at the strange man who stood just behind her. "Who him?"

"It's 'who is he'," Rose corrected gently, reaching up to push the boy's arm down. "And it's not polite to point." She looked over at the half-Time Lord, giving him a small smile as she whispered in her little brother's ear. The child's mouth instantly formed the shape of an 'O', clearly enthralled. He wiggled to get out of his sister's arm and hurried up to the now not-so-strange man.

"You're the Doctor," he whispered as if he were trying to keep that information between him and his idol.

The metacrisis lowered himself so that the two of them were eye to eye, removing his sunglasses as he did so. "Yes, I am. Hello," he greeted. "May I assume that you are none other than Master Tony Tyler?"

Tony nodded, clearly even more in awe that the half-alien had actually spoke to him.

"I see your sister has been saying things about me. Good things?"

The child gave him another nod. "She says you go places in a blue box and that monsters are afraid of you and you're a good guy like Superman."

"Oh, you have Superman here! I love Superman! Do you like Superman?"

"Yup!" came the enthusiastic reply, the 'p' once again being popped loudly. "But he isn't my favorite."

"Oh, really? Who's your favorite, then?"

Tony's eyes widened at the question, looking at him as if he should already know the answer. "You are. You're much better than Superman. Superman's just a story. You're real. Can I ride in your TARDIS?"

The Doctor took a deep breath, unease on his features. He knew the child didn't know what he was currently enduring or that the reminder of the TARDIS' loss was exacerbating his withdrawal symptoms but that didn't prevent him from feeling a small amount of animosity towards the boy, impulses which the hybrid quickly squelched. He didn't want to be angry with Tony for the small faux pas he didn't realize he had made. And, quite frankly, it was nice that the boy was so adorably smitten with him that he wanted a ride from him. After all, what child didn't want to travel in the vehicle of their dreams with their hero?

The Doctor was trying to find what words to say to him to explain the situation when he was spared from the task by the voice of Pete telling everyone that they were about to take off and everyone should sit down. Hearing his father's instructions, Tony grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled at him, causing him to lose his balance. "Sit with me," he instructed vehemently just before Jackie gently pulled him away, telling that he had better mind his manners or he can forget about that Chinese dinner when they got home.

While Jackie was ensuring that her son was sitting down for take off, the half-Time Lord stood up slowly and, slipping his sunglasses into one of his pockets, found a seat next to Rose before taking her hand.

"Sorry about Tony," she told him with an embarrassed expression. "He gets a little excited sometimes."

"It's all right," he assured her. "Not like I've never been yanked around by a child before."

She considered his words while looking at him. The tension he'd been carrying with him had obviously lessened enormously but it was equally clear from the expression in his eyes that he wasn't completely comfortable with the situation, despite Tony's enamor. "How are you feeling?"

"Chest ache's gone but I've still got a headache. And the sun's still too bright even with the sunglasses so it's a good thing the shades are drawn. Still, better than earlier."

"I'm glad," she answered with a smile, squeezing his hand gently. "Better is good."

She only received a small nod in response.

As the zeppelin slowly started to lift from the ground, Pete joined the couple on the other side of the table, a paternal grin on his face. "Only a couple of minutes aboard and you've really got Tony wrapped around your finger, Doctor. With the stories Rose has been telling him at bedtime, however, it doesn't surprise me."

"What sort of stories?" the Doctor questioned, looking at his friend for clarification. It was obvious, from Tony's infatuation and words, that she had relayed some of the adventures they had when they had traveled through space and time. But some of those adventures had been truly terrifying and he really hoped that she hadn't caused the boy any nightmares.

"Nothing too scary," she assured him, seeing the concern on his face. "Woman Wept, Slitheen in Downing Street, France on a spaceship, chasing down that Hoix…"

The memories of the events caused the metacrisis to smile. "Told you not to use the blue bucket."

"Oh, shut up," she berated with a laugh.

"Well, since you like telling stories, you can both tell me all about what happened that brought you here," Pete put in, nodding to the Doctor as he spoke. "And I want details. The last I knew Jackie and Mickey were breaking every protocol in the book going after you," he said, looking directly at Rose with paternal rebuke, "and Jackie isn't even Torchwood. So I'd very much like to know why my wife left me and our son to go get you out of whatever situation you'd gotten yourself into."

"Let me guess," the Doctor supposed, glancing at Rose. "She gets into trouble a lot."

"Trouble's part of the job," came the reply. "But Rose seems to have a knack for it, even to the point of grabbing a particle rifle and jumping universes without authorization. Of course, Mickey had to follow the moment he found out what she had done and Jackie… well, Rose got her stubbornness from her, that's for certain. She wouldn't have become involved if she hadn't come by the office in an attempt to kidnap me for an early lunch. Since she had, however, she felt it absolutely necessary to go with Mickey to get her daughter back."

"About that… what's with all the dimensional jumping?" the Doctor questioned. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that every time you use those things, you're ripping the fabric of the universe. Not to mention the side effect of massive global warning which you yourself, Pete, were concerned with the last time we met."

Rose responded to his query. "I was working on a way to travel between universes, without damaging the fabric of reality and causing global warming, so that I could not only be with you in that universe but also still come home whenever needed, not only for visits but also to help Torchwood. We'd already established protocols that if traveling between universes couldn't be done without adverse side effects we'd drop the project. We weren't having much success with the Dimension Cannon when it all started to work. That's when the stars started to go out. We had to prioritize stopping that over a bout of global warming and a small chance of the universes collapsing. The new dimensional jumpers that work with the Cannon need time to charge before each use so we figured that would at least reduce some of the impact."

"How long have you used them before you finally found me?"

"On and off, for a little over a year. We spent most of that time trying to determine your location. I figured that focusing on alien activity would narrow down the possibilities. We tried using the Cannon to send electronic signals, broadcasting me calling for you but you obviously didn't see any of them so we ramped it up to actually crossing the Void. I first found myself in a street and there were police everywhere and I knew you just had to be there. However the only person I saw a red-headed woman telling me to let someone know that their car keys were in a trash bin. I didn't know it at the time but… it was Donna."

"Donna told you to tell someone that their car keys were in a trash bin?" he questioned with a frown. A moment later, realization came to his face as he remembered Donna running off to return the car keys to her mother. "Rose… I was right down the next alley, carrying Donna's luggage into the TARDIS."

"Seriously?" Seeing him nod, she got a sad look on her face. "If only I'd checked…"

"I'd appreciate if you'd return to the matter at hand," Pete interrupted, seeing the subject drifting off topic, "namely telling me what happened before the stars returned, especially since the only people who remember them going out worked on the Dimension Cannon."

"That would be due to the dimensional retroclosure thanks to Davros' reality bomb never having happened," the Doctor put in. Seeing the confusion on Pete's face, he explained, "Davros was a Kaled from the planet Skaro. He created the Daleks by genetically manipulating the Kaled genome to make what he considered the perfect life form, which lacked all emotion except for one. He felt that the only emotion needed for survival was hatred."

"I was told about the Daleks, that they were fighting the Cybermen in that other universe," Pete put in.

"That's right. You never saw them," the Doctor realized. "Anyway, Davros recently got this notion in his head that, in order to insure that his Daleks were the supreme race in the universe, it would be best just to eradicate all other life at the same time. He created a weapon that would destroy reality itself, a reality bomb. The weapon needed to be powered by twenty-four planets placed in conjunction with each other so he displaced said planets, including Earth, into the heart of the Medusa Cascade and slightly out of phase with the rest of reality. And when he used the weapon, it not only caused the stars to disappear one at a time but it also opened up the Void, allowing Rose to be able to travel between universes. Which reminds me…" He turned his attention to Rose. "Sometime soon, you and I need to discuss Bad Wolf." The bewildered expression on her visage brought one to his own. "You don't remember Bad Wolf? That's how you warned me that something was wrong, the reason I returned to Earth in the first place to find it had been stolen by Davros."

She shook her head. "I didn't send you a warning. At least… I don't think I did. It's all sort of vague, like something happened that didn't actually happen."

"What's Bad Wolf?" Pete questioned.

"Well… she is," the Doctor responded, nodding towards Rose. "Sometimes. Long story. The short of it is that we were in danger of being exterminated by Daleks and I sent her home for her own safety but she looked into the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the Time Vortex, thus becoming the Bad Wolf, which before then was just a phrase we'd heard on and off during our travels but turned out to be Rose giving herself clues as to how to save me from extermination. Once she absorbed the Vortex, she came back for me and destroyed the Daleks. I took the Vortex out of her so she wouldn't burn up but apparently there's some residual still there."

"Is that dangerous?" Rose questioned with concern.

"Doubt it," he replied. "If it were, it would have manifested itself as such by now. You're fine. You might not be aware of when you use it, however, so I still want to discuss it."

"So, Rose gave you a warning using this Bad Wolf whatever it is," Pete stated.

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed. "Well, it was vague warning… 'Bad Wolf' written everywhere. Including on the TARDIS," he stated with a grin as he looked at Rose. "Now that was impressive. Got me and Donna back to Earth. One minute, Earth was there; next minute it was gone. I actually had to go to the Shadow Proclamation for help – that's basically the intergalactic police. It was because of their trying to figure out where all the planets had gone that I figured out they were being used as some sort of power source which led us to the Medusa Cascade and discovered that the Earth and all the other planets were out of sync with the rest of the universe. Then Rose and our friends gave me a call on my phone which allowed me to find the Earth and landed just about two minutes before Donna pointed Rose out to me."

"But then a Dalek shot him and he started to regenerate…"

"And I stopped a full regeneration by putting the excess energy into my handy spare hand in a jar."

"A hand in a jar?" It was clear that Pete was having trouble keeping track of the events they were relating.

"He lost his right hand in a sword fight on Christmas Eve. Grew another one," Rose explained.

"And I grew from that severed hand," the metacrisis added.

"So, you're not really the Doctor. You're more like a clone," Pete said with interest.

"Oi! I am not a clone! I'm the result of an instantaneous biological metacrisis which is a perfectly viable form of natural reproduction, albeit extremely unusual. I have all of the Doctor's memories and, given that I'm prevalently the Doctor in every way but with only one heart, that makes me him. And I certainly don't appreciate being insulted by being called a clone! How would you like it if I called you a clone, eh? You're not the first Pete Tyler I've met, you know!"

"Doctor!" Rose berated, gazing at him in surprise.

"What?" he demanded.

"You're being rude," she told him bluntly.

"He was being rude!"

Pete raised his hand in an attempt to calm the now agitated man. "I apologize. I didn't realize that the word was inappropriate or that you would be upset with it."

"Upset?" the Doctor countered. "You haven't even seen me upset! If you think a half-hearted apology will do, you've got another thing coming, mister! You think I'm a push over? That you can just say whatever you want about me? Got a thing against half-human half-Time Lords?" A moment later, he felt a hard slap across his face. He turned with a stunned expression towards the source whose face was the epitome of fury.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Rose demanded, her hand stinging from the delivery of the blow.

"You slapped me," he responded quietly, still surprised by her action.

"Yeah and if it will stop you from continuing to be a bloody arse I'll slap you again!"

For a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the zeppelin's engine humming in the distance. The Doctor could feel every eye in the room staring at him, causing him to swallow slightly in discomfort before speaking.

"You're right. I've been very rude. And I'm sorry," he finally said with genuine contrition.

Rose folded her arms over her chest. "Don't tell it to me. Tell it to my dad."

He looked the visibly older man in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Pete. I behaved horribly towards you and… I don't have an excuse." Taking a slow breath, he avoided looking at either of the two humans. "I think I'll go get some rest," he stated, immediately standing from his seat and hurriedly going towards the back of the vehicle, ignoring the concerned look Jackie gave him as he passed her and Tony.

Going through the door that was at the rear of the seating room, he found himself in a narrow hallway which had three doors on one side, the other side covered with windows that gave a view to the sky. The doors were spaced at equal distances from each other. Opening one of the doors, he peered in to see a small bathroom, complete with shower stall. A second door revealed a spacious cabin equipped with a full-sized bed, a dresser and a door that lead into the bathroom. On the wall above the bed, there was a fold-down bunk, allowing a maximum of four people to sleep in the cabin. The last door entered into another cabin just like the first, minus the direct access to the bathroom.

Sighing, he sat on the bed in the second cabin, suddenly feeling very lost. How the hell was he supposed to adapt to this new life he'd been thrust into when he couldn't even control his temper? He knew Pete hadn't meant to be insulting even as he heard the word being spoken and yet he had yelled at him and, as Rose so eloquently stated, been a bloody arse. He knew part of it was the Donna Noble in him; he could hear it in his vocabulary. But even Donna wouldn't hold a grudge when someone made a heartfelt apology whereas he continued to practically drill into Pete until Rose's slap made him take pause.

It didn't help that the pain in his head and chest had increased. It wasn't completely intolerable as it had been in the hotel but it was far worse than when he came aboard the zeppelin less than a half an hour before. He'd tried so desperately to control it and perhaps that was the cause of his outburst. He couldn't be sure. All that he could be sure of was that he wanted the TARDIS. Badly. Being without his beloved time ship was making him feel extraordinarily vulnerable… and he hated feeling vulnerable. It caused his mind to run at a rapid pace and never in the good way that control gave him.

Right now, his mind was running over all the changes he would have to adapt to. One heart: already coping with it. Rose being so different and yet not different at all: again, coping with it. No TARDIS: that's going to take a while. No TARDIS means no wardrobe, so no change of clothes. The last thought gave him pause. He hadn't yet realized that he'd been left in this universe with only the clothes on his back and whatever was in his pockets. Anything and everything he got from that moment on, even the sunglasses in his jacket, would come from this universe and likely from Rose.

So what exactly did he own? Obviously there was the suit. But what else? Reaching into his pockets, he started to pull everything out, tossing them on the bed as he did so until there was nothing in them. He picked up the sunglasses as well as the health bar he hadn't eaten yet and put them in his top front pocket, thus separating what Rose had bought him from his own worldly possessions. What was left didn't give him much hope.

He'd pulled random bits and bobs from previous adventures with Martha and Donna which consisted of a spare TARDIS key, a ticket stub from a concert he'd taking Martha to, a parking stub from Disney World (the planet, not the resort in Florida), a couple of small hand-scanners (both broken), a bag of sweets he purchased on Shan Shen to share with Donna (never got to share it with her thanks to the stars going out), Martha's mobile phone (the one she had given him after the Year That Never Was which somehow found itself in his pocket after that incident with the Sontarans) complete with universal roaming but sans battery charger, and a water damaged psychic paper wallet (the wallet was damaged, not the paper, thanks to Donna pulling him into a swimming pool fully-clothed; the Time Lord had pulled out a replacement wallet and paper from the TARDIS' stores afterwards, not bothering to take the damaged wallet from his pockets).

While for normal humans, the amount of items would have been extravagant, for the Doctor it was as if his pockets had been completely cleaned out before he came to this universe, save for a few pennies and some lint. Knowing that he retained so little from the life he'd had before only increased the anxiety he'd been feeling, making the silence in his head that much more.

Pulling his legs up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them to keep them in place, he stared at what was left of his world. A tear escaped his eyes, the result of not only his mourning what he'd lost but also reacting to the pain in his head and chest. He knew he shouldn't be so concerned about material things – he'd never been so before, with the exception of the ownership of his ship – but he found that he couldn't help himself. It felt as if the universe was collapsing around him and there was nothing he could do about it except watch.

"My mobile, keys to the old flat and twenty quid," came a gentle feminine voice, causing the Doctor to jump slightly. Turning his head, he saw Jackie standing in the doorway, sympathy clear in her eyes. "That's all I had in my pockets when I first came here," she continued, going to the bed to sit next to him. "The one thing I miss most though was my old photo album. I mean, you can replace a couch or clothes… and Jacqueline – that's what we call her, just to keep things sorted – she had my Mum's wedding ring… same in every way too. But the photo album… all those pictures of Rose growing up… Well, there was no Rose growing up in this universe so all those are lost."

"The TARDIS wasn't a photo album," he responded in a low tone. "She was more than a piece of property. She…" He sighed. "What's the point in trying to explain? You'd never understand."

"Probably not," Jackie conceded. "But I can see you're still hurting and you probably feel like you've got nothing left in the whole world. I know what that feels like and I can tell you, from experience, that you're wrong. You have Rose… and me… and Pete and Tony…"

The Doctor interrupted her with a sarcastic laugh. "Right. Pete hates me after the way I just treated him. Same with Rose."

She put her arm around his slumped shoulders. "Rose sent me to check on you since she couldn't do it herself; Pete's still debriefing her on what happened on the Crucible. I'd say that's a sure sign that she doesn't hate you."

He didn't respond, his eyes focused on his possessions even though it was clear from his expression that he had heard every word. Even as he regarded what little he could call his, he felt more tired than he had ever before, the cumulative stress of dealing with the symptoms of withdrawal and the knowledge of what he had lost taking its toll on his half-human body.

Seeing him stifle a yawn, Jackie slowly stood up and collected the items on the bed.

"No, don't touch them!" the Doctor told her, slight panic in his voice.

She gave him a gentle smile. "I'm just moving them to the dresser so that they're off the bed. You can't sleep with them in the way, you know."

"N'tired," he murmured back.

Jackie gave a small laugh. "You're as bad as Tony. Eyes nearly closed and still protesting. Besides, Rose told me you didn't get any sleep last night so now I'm insisting." Having finished her brief task, she returned to the Doctor's side. She pulled his arms from his hold on his knees, encouraging him to lower his feet to the floor. Then, going on her knees, she started to remove his shoes.

"I can undress myself, Jackie," he grumbled.

"Hush and let me take care of you," she ordered as she finished removing the shoes. "Off with the jacket," she instructed, moving to assist him in the act. Too tired to protest further, he allowed her actions even to the point of her pulling back the blankets and gently pushing his shoulder down so that he would lie in the bed.

The moment that his head touched the pillow, he found himself unable to resist the urge to sleep. He didn't know if it was his withdrawal symptoms or if it was just a part of his new biology. The plain fact was he suddenly felt not just tired like before but unbelievably exhausted. His eyes seemed to close against his will – he didn't want to sleep, even though he knew he had to – and soon the only thing that could be heard was the soft sounds of regular heavy breathing, the kind that only came from slumber.