Rose opened her eyes. Dressing table, mirror, her robe was draped over the back. She was in her room, in her flat, on Baker Street. She closed her eyes and let out a grateful sigh. She was back, not with James, home. She opened her eyes and sat up. She felt better, rested. Sherlock was right. She needed sleep after everything she'd gone through, after everything James had put her through.
She hadn't slept right away after he left. She got up, rearranged her drawers, straightened the shoes in her closet, but finally she was just too tired to do anything else. So, she changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top and then she climbed back under the covers. She'd been so afraid that she would fall asleep here and wake up in that room with James, but she was still home.
She wasn't okay, not entirely. What he did to her…hurt. Making her think he was the Doctor, her Doctor. Telling her that the man who took her was the man she believed to be the Doctor, then having that taken away when she saw Sherlock, realized he was real because if he was real then everything else was a lie. A horrible lie concocted by James.
She still didn't understand why. Maybe it was just to torture her. Just to give her what she wanted and then take it away. Either way he wasn't the man she'd known, that man was dead, gone. Sherlock and the Doctor were right. Whatever Dr. Hastings did to him, changed him. A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, wondering who it could be.
Sherlock stepped in the room carrying a…breakfast tray? He gave her a smile as he closed the door. He was worried, had to be, that was completely uncharacteristic of him. It made her want to reassure him that she was all right, or, at least, pretend she was for his sake.
"He cooks?" she asked, giving him a teasing smile.
"I think you'll find I have many hidden talents," he replied as he sat the tray over her lap.
She caught the widening of his eyes as he realized his words might be taken in the wrong context. She laughed and then looked at what he brought her. Two boiled eggs, toast, a bowl of fruit, tea, and some biscuits.
"It looks brilliant," she said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He stood there a bit awkwardly, not at all like he'd been last night…it had been night hadn't it? She shook her head. Didn't matter. She patted the bed near her legs on the other side of the tray.
"Sit down," she requested.
He sat down, watching her. She knew he was looking for signs that she was still stressed, but she wasn't going to give him any. She picked up a biscuit and took a bite.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"Much better. You were right. All I needed was a bit of rest," she lied, well, it wasn't entirely a lie. She did feel better, but she wasn't over what happened, probably wouldn't be for a while.
"You've asked me not to keep things from you and I would ask for you to do the same."
She sighed.
"I'm am better," she said, but he caught her eye. "I feel better…at least, better than I did last night, but…"
"You're not all right," he deduced.
"No, not really and I don't want to be like this."
"Like what?"
"This person who has to be taken care of. I'm not this person. I don't want to be this person."
"Rose," he said, taking her hand." She looked at him. "You're not weak. Everyone has a breaking point and last night you reached yours. That doesn't make you weak. None of this is your fault. Last night after we found you the Doctor scanned you with his screwdriver and he found sedatives in your system."
"Sedatives?"
"James drugged you. That's why you believed him."
She thought about what James said to her about one person making another believe anything.
"That must be the circumstances he was talking about."
"Sorry?" Sherlock asked, catching her eye.
"James said, given enough time and the right circumstances one person could make another believe anything…do anything." She looked away, but she didn't pull her hand back. "He…he told me he was the Doctor. That everything I thought happened were memories someone else implanted in my mind. I didn't believe him at first and even up until the end I doubted him, but…I don't know…maybe I wanted to believe him, believe that the Doctor hadn't left me on that godforsaken beach," she explained.
She didn't want to hurt Sherlock, but she didn't want to keep things from him. He surprised her by squeezing her hand, as if he was reassuring her that he was there. She looked at him.
"It wasn't your fault," he said.
She wasn't sure if he was talking about the beach or James, maybe both. She pulled him close and hugged him. Grateful that he was there, that he was real. He wrapped his arms around her and she stayed like that for a few minutes, feeling safe for the first time since she'd been taken.
"I just don't understand why he did it," she said, as she sat back.
"We may never know his reasoning."
She caught his eye.
"Did you…did you kill him?"
The thought didn't upset her as much as it had before, but she wanted to know. She knew Sherlock was capable of it, not in the same way as James, the detective would do it to protect her, to keep her safe, but that didn't mean it was okay.
"I shot him, but…" he trailed off and she knew there was more to it.
"But?"
"He wasn't James."
"What?"
"He was a clone of James."
"A clone?"
That didn't make any sense. A clone? How could James have a clone? Why would he have a clone?
"The Doctor called it Flesh, matter used to replicate a living organism."
Wait. Someone else used that Flesh to clone James.
"Then…that means there's someone else."
Sherlock gave her a smile, that one that told her he thought she was clever.
"Most likely the same person who brought all of you here."
Hang on. What? Someone else brought them there?
"Brought us here?"
"The Doctor believes it's too much of a coincidence for four cracks to appear in two separate universes that all lead to the same place, the same time and I'm inclined to agree."
The Doctor was right. Why hadn't she thought of it before? For all of them to be taken by the same cracks to this universe, this time. It had to have been planned. And the only reason to put the time and effort into a plan that elaborate would be to go after the Doctor.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers.
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