Chapter 3: The First Face he Saw

Disclaimer: I am an American teenager without any job. So no, I do not own Doctor Who.

Rose Tyler felt the same sensation of being pulled apart and reassemble as she did so very long ago. She was lost in memories of white walls and sand beaches and the man she cared for so dearly and even her mother who she had watched grow old and die. Once she came to her senses, she immediately recognized the very same TARDIS she had left.

Her mind was assaulted with various scenes.

Her leather Doctor and her younger self finding her and their eyes widening in surprise

Her pinstriped Doctor, Mickey Smith (who she had also watched die after suffering from Alzheimer's), and herself completely taken unawares by this new, older Rose.

The same Doctor she had left, but no longer hers stood with a new companion without a face. He turned to her and asked what she had done, looking at her with apprehension.

A totally new Doctor, and even newer companions, who had long since forgotten her raised his eyebrows in surprise. He considered her with an expression that said she was nothing to him but a new puzzle to solve.

Now that she had successfully worried herself, she searched around the room for the Doctor – any Doctor. When she came up empty, she decided to take a look out the doors. Running forward, she threw the exit open to reveal – the Rose nebula. Twisting to gaze at the console, she commented on the location.

"Is this irony or fate?" She grinned, knowing neither she nor the Doctor ever believed in the ridiculous notion of Fate.

As she was expecting a cheerful hum of agreement, what she received from the TARDIS was quite a shock. As her mind made contact with the ship's, Rose gasped and tried to hide from the wave of grief.

What had happened? What could possibly have done this to her old friend? Her determination to find the Doctor turned into panic. An answer occurred to her – he was dead. But no, she shook herself. If he was dead, the TARDIS would be too. He was on the ship she was sure, but as she ran down the single hallway her doubts raged.

The corridor that was usually filled with hundreds of doors now only had two, one she recognized as the Doctor's room, distinguishable by the Gallifreyan scrawled across the upper half. Pushing the normally locked door open with ease, she stepped in.

The first time she had come into this room, she had heard the Doctor's cries as he thrashed in the claws of a horrible nightmare. The TARDIS had unlocked the door and raised the lights enough for her to find him in his cluttered room. She hadn't woken him, only sitting there at his side, his head in her lap until he had calmed and drifted into a deeper sleep. Once he woke he held her in his arms and told her about the Time War. A few times after that, they had spent some time together in his room, and very rarely she would come again to relieve his nightmares. She had a strange feeling he wanted her to come to him more often, but she was to terrified of misreading him. Rose loved that memory because it was one of the few times she had seen him without his usual leather armor, and he had let her into his heart, if only a little. And a little was enough for Rose.

Now though, many things were wrong.

The floor was still a dark, beautiful rosewood, and the walls were covered in the same ornate plum wallpaper, but no bookshelves lined the walls, no famous sculptures stood in the corners, tables full of various experiments or items he had collected were missing completely. Not even a nightstand or rug made the bed seem more inviting.

The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room. A deep red velvet curtain with gold tassels on the fringe hung from the four posts over the silvery quilted bedspread. That was mostly the same but she still felt a sense of wrong in seeing the room so bare.

One more theory was forming in her mind, but she prayed it wasn't true.

Closing and locking his door, she turned to the only other door available . She would have to help the TARDIS replace some of the more crucial rooms, like the bathroom and kitchen and – if necessary – her room as well.

This last door she had seen before, but it had always been locked. When she asked her Doctor about it, his face grew a pained look and he tried to brush it off, mumbling something about "gardening" or "just some quiet place, I guess" but never giving an answer. She didn't ask again.

Walking up to the mysterious room, the TARDIS unlocked the door with a soft click and it swung open on its own. From beyond, bright daylight from two suns and hot red grass shone through.

Taking hesitant steps, more of the garden was revealed to her. In the distance, clear blue mountains shimmered and silver tree groves dotted the landscape. Turquoise streams and unfamiliar forest animals surrounded her. From what little the Doctor could get out, this must be what Gallifrey looked like before the war.

A beautiful marble-like fountain stood in the middle of the glade she had found herself in. Near that, a pile of burned and torn clothing was wrapped around a figure that was too large for it.

Rose ran forward and grasped him by the shoulders. Pulling him so his back was propped against her front. Tears beginning to fall at the affirmation of her theory, she begged the TARDIS to send them to his room.

In the blink of an eye, they lay together on the hard wood beside his bed. Thanking the old girl, she gently set him down and wiped away the tears that continued to fall. Seeing her first Doctor sick and so damaged was unbelievably painful.

She began to take off the tattered rags he must have worn in the incarnation before this. She also wondered where the velvet vest and brass pocket watch had come from, while the rest of his clothes looked like, well, a warrior's outfit. From a regeneration even before his last, perhaps? She would have to ask.

But asking this Doctor about it might not be a good idea, seeing as she had no idea what mental damage he must've endured while the rest of his planet died.

"Oh, Doctor, I am so sorry," she thought about leaving it there, then decided what she would do from here on out. "I'm here. I'm with you, and I'm never going to leave you." At the sound of her voice, a few of the lines on the Doctor's brow eased. Rose ran her hand over his cheek, her fingers brushing his familiar jawline.

She continued to remove the singed garments 'til he had only his trousers and pants left before hooking her arms under his and doing her best to lift him onto the bed.

After wrestling with his dead weight for a few minutes, she had finally managed to lift him onto the bed and covered his supine form with the duvet. Tucking the covers around him, she placed a chaste kiss on his forehead and strode out of the bedroom and back to the console.

Very soon she would have to get some sleep, but first, she wanted to get a little superheated radicals and tannin into the Doctor to help with the regeneration. And to do that, she would have to bring back the galley.

Reaching her consciousness out to the TARDIS's, she braced herself for the onslaught of pain and loss she had upon fist arriving. It didn't come. Instead, a wave of apology and gratitude came from the golden heart. Together they saw the TARDIS, smaller than she ever had been before, and began to build. The first rooms they recovered were the kitchen, which now looked like a vintage coffee shop in Paris, two bathrooms, and Rose's own room.

This Rose gave most of the instructions for. Now it was much larger, and had plain dark magenta walls instead of the loud bubblegum pink. The floors were a light cherry wood replacing the thick lime green carpeting. Just in case, she also added a door connecting Her old room had been full of kickshaws, clothes, and products. In lieu of all that, she had piles of books covering everything from smutty romances to advanced string theory. All of the work she had done in parallel desolate Earth now appeared – thesis papers and experiments, even an AI robot she had named Jack programed to tell a host of inappropriate jokes and innuendos while she worked. She set a lock on the door that would activate as soon as she left this point in the timeline and returned to the TARDIS she remembered so her younger self wouldn't find her future self's room.

Satisfied, she helped the TARDIS set a base program for several more less necessary rooms and then separated their minds.

It felt like that horrible moment when you crawl out of bed on a cold winter morning and you have somewhere to be in twenty minutes – cold, uncomfortable, and could easily make her a she-devil.

Shaking off the loss of another's mind, she walked to the kitchen and put water on the stove for herbal tea. Since the Doctor (or Rose anymore) didn't usually need sleep often, there wasn't much caffeine to be had in the cupboards. She smiled slightly at the thought of her overactive Doctor in pinstripes actually drinking caffeine.

While waiting, she decided to go check up on the Doctor. Seeing him now, so very soon after the war, hurt. This Doctor had always been strong and a little cut off. Wearing his armor and running as far as he possibly could. With Rose holding his hand of course.

Rose grimaced when she remembered all the mistakes she had made before him, with Jimmy Stone and Mickey, while with him , on Father's day and so many times otherwise, and after him. There was a boy she met, Andrew, who had loved to paint, and especially loved to paint her, or so he said. That was during the rebellion. Later she found he had only wanted to be seen as important, and dating the leader of the resistance movement had done that. When she got angry, he had called her out, calling her cruel, shallow, cold, clingy, and a host of other things she couldn't help but feel were true.

But now, looking down at him, she was grateful to be here again, even if it meant going through her own pain to help him with his.

As she was about to turn away again, Rose heard movement behind her. He had no words, but the cries and near-sobs were enough to consider him conscious. She ran to his bedside and held his shoulders still as he thrashed. As soon as she made contact with his skin however, he stilled and looked up at her with teary crystalline eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" Rose almost cried in relief at hearing the rude Northern burr after so long. But how could she answer him?

"I'm… My name is…" Rose "Violet." Yeah. That was safe, and he may not even recognize her properly if he saw the young Rose. At least, not before she locked away his memories of her before 2005 at least.

"Violet," he said her alias with disdain. "Why don't I believe you?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Because you're quite impressive, dear. But now, you need to rest," she paused, unsure of how to proceed. "I'll bring your tea soon." She tucked the covers around him, making sure he wouldn't try to get out of bed until she said so.

"Well then, Violet, unless you're here to kill me, I suppose… thank you."

A/N: No, he doesn't recognize her from the Moment and he never will. Also, next chapter will be from the Doctor's POV so I've go to watch some episodes to get the characterization right. R&R please and thank you!