Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters, settings or plots.

7.

The Doctor stared at the girl in the bedroom. He felt anger rise up in his chest. The girl wasn't supposed to be here. Nobody was supposed to be here.

And yet there she was, even wearing her clothes, looking all innocent and oblivious and happy to see him and somehow reminding him so much of her.

Without really noticing, he let go of the plate he was holding. He heard it hit the ground, but he ignored it. He took a few steps forward and grabbed her by the shoulders.

'What are you doing here?' he said in a low voice, sounding even more dangerous than if he were yelling.

Immy flinched at his words, not understanding what was going on. She backed away, into the room. 'I was lost,' she whispered anxiously, 'I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, this place is so big and everything looks the same and I'm sorry!' She felt tears roll down her face, but she didn't wipe them away.

The Doctor ignored her tears. Had she pulled that t-shirt from the cupboard in this room? He was sure River wouldn't have taken her to this room to find clothes. 'Why are you wearing that?' the Doctor asked angrily, pointing at the t-shirt.

'I don't know,' she answered. She didn't know what she'd done wrong. 'It was in the big room with the mirrors. River said I could take anything…'

'This shouldn't have been there.'

'Should I – should I take it off? I could find another t-shirt.'

The Doctor sighed and closed his eyes. 'No, it's fine, leave it on. Come on, let's go.'

He turned around and stalked off. Immy quickly followed, picking up the plate on the way. She practically had to run to keep up with his long strides.

The Doctor knew he was being irrational. He knew Immy couldn't possibly know who had slept in that room, who had worn that t-shirt or why she reminded him so much of her.

The Doctor walked on through the Tardis. He heard Immy's footsteps behind him, but he didn't stop to let her catch up with him. He didn't want to talk. So they walked on in silence.

He had tried not to think about her for a long time. It wasn't that he'd wanted to forget, he just didn't want to remember, not all the time. He had collected all of her possessions, everything that reminded him of her, and put them in her old bedroom. He had made the Tardis move the bedroom to the very back of the ship. It was safe there. Her memory was safe there.

He would sometimes go there, by himself. He would sit in the room and remember, but he didn't seem to be able to remember the happy memories. All he felt when he saw that room was guilt and grief and sorrow.

It wasn't just the room that had this effect on him. Everything that was somehow connected to her sparked that same emotion, and he couldn't even thing or say her name without instantly feeling sorrowful. When he saw Immy standing there, in that room, wearing those clothes, she suddenly looked so much like her. The blonde hair, the feminine curves, the wide smile; he couldn't help thinking her name. Rose.

He entered the console room and sat down on the swing under the console. He hoped Immy wouldn't follow him. Maybe she'd go to the kitchen, to get some breakfast. He hoped she would. He wanted to be alone.

River would probably still be looking for her. He knew he should tell her that he'd found her, but he didn't. She would come back to the console room, and he just wanted to be alone for a while.

He closed his eyes. He knew it was unfair to be mad at her. Immy hadn't deserved that. He sighed. He should apologize.

He heard footsteps on the glass above his head. He looked up, and saw Immy looking down at him. She had a glass of orange juice in her hand.

'Can I come down there?' she asked.

The Doctor shrugged, and then nodded. Immy climbed down the stairs and sat down on the floor in front of him.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm sorry for being in that room.' She took a sip of orange juice.

'It's all right,' the Doctor sighed. 'You couldn't have known that you weren't supposed to be there. It wasn't fair, me being cross…'

'That's okay,' Immy said. 'I understand.'

The Doctor looked at her for a second. Did she understand? She was just a teenager. Could she know what heartbreak was?

'Immy, how old are you?'

'I'm seventeen.'

'Have you ever lost someone, Immy? Someone you loved, who meant a lot to you?'

'Immy shook her head. 'I don't think I have, sorry.'

'But that's not something to apologize for! That's something to be proud of, something to be grateful for! Because I have, Immy, I have lost a lot of people in my life. And the point is, the more you love someone, the more it hurts. Heartbreak is a kind of pain that you never really lose.'

Immy contemplated that for a while. 'Can I just ask… what is so special about that room?'

'There was a girl once. We were on this ship together, travelling. She used to sleep in that room.' The Doctor looked away. 'She's gone now.'

'I'm so sorry,' Immy said. 'I didn't know.'

'You couldn't have.'

They were silent for a while. Immy drank the last of her orange juice and put the glass on the floor.

'Is that your breakfast?' the Doctor asked.

'Yeah… Well, I had a piece of toast as well.'

'That's not a healthy breakfast!' the Doctor exclaimed. 'Not for a growing girl like you. Come on, I'll make you something. I'll make you… croissants! Do you like croissants?' Immy nodded.

'Of course you do! Everybody loves croissants!' The Doctor sprang up from the swing and ran up the stairs two steps at a time. Immy quickly followed. 'I'll tell you a secret, Immy,' the Doctor said as he entered the kitchen. 'There is very little in this world that can't be solved by a plate of warm croissants.' He started kneading dough and rolling it into shape. 'Warm croissants and, somehow, tiny little marshmallows. That's the secret to world peace.'

Immy laughed, but the Doctor looked at her very seriously. 'Pay attention, Immy! I'm sharing precious knowledge here.' He put the croissants in the oven

'Voilà!' the Doctor said as he handed her a plate of croissants. He sat down opposite her. The croissants seemed to be done faster than Immy thought was possible, but then again, hardly anything had seemed impossible these last two days. Anything except getting her back home to her parents. She suddenly remembered the picture of her parents in her pocket. How could she have forgotten about it?

Absentmindedly, she took a bite of one of the croissants. What would be the best way to ask the Doctor about the photo? Would he be angry that she'd taken something from that room?

'Well, this is disappointing,' the Doctor said. Her head snapped up. What did he mean? Could he read her mind? 'People always say that my croissants are delicious! Don't you like them?'

Immy looked down at the croissant in her hands. 'Yes. Yes, they're good.' She shook her head. That didn't sound sincere at all.

'Is there something on your mind, Immy?' the Doctor asked, genuinely interested now.

'No. Well, actually… yes. I found a photograph, when I was in that room this morning.'

The Doctor nodded. 'She left very suddenly. She left lots of things behind.'

'But… But this photo can't have been hers.'

'What do you mean?'

'It's a picture of my parents.' Immy put her croissant down. 'It's an old photo, but it's definitely my parents.'

The Doctor frowned. 'Did you take it from the room? Can you show it to me?'

Immy nodded, wiped her hands on her jeans and took the photo from her pocket. She handed it to the Doctor. He looked at it closely.

'I don't understand,' he said. 'How can this be your par–' His head suddenly snapped up. 'Unless…?'

'What?' Immy asked eagerly.

The Doctor turned the photo around. 'This is a picture of the girl and me. The girl in whose room you were this morning.'

'No, it's not. You're not in the picture at all.'

'Well, I am, actually. I had a different face back then. It's a bit complicated; I won't bore you with the details right now. But this is me. So this can't be your parents.'

'Yes, they are,' Immy said stubbornly. 'Look, this is my mum.' She pointed at the woman. 'Everyone always tells me how much we resemble each other.'

'I see,' the Doctor said, looking at the picture again. He seemed to be talking to himself now. He sprang to his feet. 'I see! You're their daughter! Why didn't you tell me before?' he asked loudly.

'You never asked!'