A/N: warnings: panic attacks, vague flashbacks of bullying.

The Unknown Legacy

As they exited the Tardis, the city stench hit them. Martha covered her nose and Rose grimaced.

He'd parked in the slums of a busy space port. Buildings made from parts of rocket ships from the surrounding galaxies; a true melting pot and mismatch of architecture and peoples, lined the narrow and winding streets.

This was where Son of Mine had sworn the Family had taken Penelope Gate's vortex manipulator in order to track him and Martha through the vortex. They had to return it to the Time Agent to prevent a paradox. So she would later go on to Maxwell's Power Production Planet 2B-delta and help save millions of lives.

Jack splayed his arms out wide. "The smell of the 51st century. Never gets old. HA!"

"Ha!" Rose cried.

The Doctor couldn't help but smile. This - this - was what he missed. Hearing her voice, seeing her eyes brighten and her face light the room. Rose was back, and he wasn't going to let her go.

He intertwined his fingers with hers, leading them all through the narrow streets and up a steep hill. He rambled about the history - which he knew she loved really - as a multitude of vendors beckoned them to browse the tiny stores, the mismatched displays full of knick-knacks from all over the galaxy spilling out onto the pavement.

As they reached the peak, their destination came into view. Okay, he'd admit it, he wanted to impress her a little bit. It had been tough on all of them; Jack, Martha and Rose - of course, Rose. His Rose. They needed this. He needed this. A proper adventure. A chance to escape from the heaviness that was being stuck in 1913.

Next to him, Rose gasped, and his hearts fluttered, his troubles melting away.

"That's the port?!" Martha exclaimed. "But it's huge!"

The Doctor beamed. "Oh yes."

Like an impossibly tall tidal wave of stone had risen from nowhere, the port was built into a sheer cliff which stood as high as the Oriental Pearl TV Tower of Shanghai, stretching for miles. Carved in the dark granite-like stone were various doors for various ships, large windows where he could see the shops from inside the complex, and viewing platforms next to a wide waterfall that misted down to the rough sea at the base.

He pointed to a red bolted metal door, too far for any of the humans to possibly make out. "Terminal sixty-three. That's where we're heading." he said.

That was where the Family found Gate.

As he turned back to read their expressions, it was then he realised, with an awkwardness he'd not felt since Mickey was aboard, that he'd forgotten about Tomas, their newest member.

The Torchwood Agent from Pete's world. An engineer, Rose said, the one who designed the void-jumps. He'd invited him initially out of pity; it'd be a new low to kick someone out with literally nowhere to go after they'd helped save your life, after all. And although Rose didn't have the best track record when it came to 'pretty boys' - and he was just a little bit pretty, she was the one who'd worked with him the most, so, naturally, he enquired about him via her.

'No, Doctor.' she said with a tired sigh as they sat together in the Tardis kitchen. 'We're not together - we never were''

'Well… it's just that -" They'd shared a barn in 1913, they'd worked together for a while… and he was pretty… just a little bit.

'No.' she said sternly.

He made a dismissive sort of 'hmm' sound, not really believing her, focusing instead on the plate of biscuits in the middle of the table. He wasn't angry. He had wanted her to be happy while on Pete's world. To move on and have a great life, of course he did. But she was here now. With him.

And he needed to know. He just did.

'I said, no. Mum tried to set us up - God, she tried to set me up with everyone.'

'She did?" he squeaked.

'Yeah, but I was too busy focusing on you, alright?'

His arrogance cost him, failing to hide a smile. 'Really?'

'Yes.' she said in exasperation. 'And, don't worry, Tomas isn't interested.'

'Oh… so is he…' He leaned back on his chair, folding his arms and tilting his head to the side '... you know?'

'No,' Then she stopped to think about it. 'Well, actually I think he drives on both sides of the road, if you know what I mean?'

'Ah.' he said. 'Jack will be happy.'

She smiled at him, then shook herself out of it. 'But that's not what I meant.' she explained, refocusing. 'He has a wife… well, had one. She went missing or something, I dunno, he never talks about it. But cos of that, he doesn't see any one." There was a shift, and her demeanour changed; she nervously fiddled with her ear. 'So… What about you? Did -'

'No.' he said instantly. 'No one.'

He couldn't. It just wasn't the same.

A heavy silence fell between them, Rose trying to find the bravery. 'Martha said you told her we were together.'

Rose was always brave.

His brows furrowed. 'Because we were?' he asked obliviously.

'You talked about me.' she added.

A ghost ache hit his hearts, the pain of her not being there. The despair. He couldn't. Never again. 'I missed you.' he said stoically.

Her expression softened; Rose could always read him so well. Over before he registered, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. 'I missed you too.' she said.

He stared at her dreamily and she laughed. Such a wonderful sound.

The Doctor pressed his lips together, regarding Tomas while the others looked out at the scene of ships coming and going like slow-moving bees in a hive. He very seldom made the habit of letting someone on his precious ship - with his precious Rose - when he knew nothing of their personality. Something to be wary of, experience had taught him so.

"How're we going to find one person in that?" Martha asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Facial recognition, gait-tracking, DNA-tracking, background radiation readings, good old-fashioned charm." Jack said.

Martha's eyebrows climbed her forehead.

"There's a lot more tech around in the 51st century." Jack added with a smirk.

"Still…" Martha said, unconvinced, looking back out at the sheer mass of ships.

"Ah, but, we have the man power!" the Doctor said dramatically, patting Martha on the back. "Divide and conquer."

He saw Rose's expectant smirk. He held out his hand to her. "Dame Rose, fancy looking for a Time Agent?"

She beamed. "I'd thought you'd never ask."

Oh, it was brilliant. They found nothing – sod all - but it was brilliant. They walked along the winding terminals, Rose letting him babble on as he told her ship names and planets of origin. 'Oh we should go here next, the food Rose." he kissed his fingers, and she smiled that beautiful smile.

But really, though. They should find Gate. Really… really. They needed to stop a paradox.

"Doctor look, they have a little shop."

Well…. one day wouldn't hurt, and he could vet Tomas tonight back on the Tardis.

But then Rose mentioned this film she wanted to see, and well, how could he say no to that! They sat snuggled together in the cinema room. She fell asleep on his chest, her face peaceful and her body heat warming him through his pyjamas. It was impossible, with all the monstrous things he'd done, only Rose could make him feel, that maybe, there was some true goodness in him after all. He kissed the top of her hair, and she let out a soft sigh.

The Tardis's light flickered, a sternness rolling off the old girl through the telepathic connection.

"Alright, alright." he muttered, sliding out of Rose's hold, reluctantly making his way to the console room.

He returned a moment later to cover Rose with a blanket.

If he could bypass the CCTV authority access, then he could pinpoint the mainframe server location, and feed it through to the Time Agency matrix, then he could access the DNA database and…

Someone cleared their throat, and the Doctor snapped out of his thoughts. He looked up from the console, Tomas was standing there.

Odd. The Doctor looked him carefully up and down, studying him. "You alright?" he asked.

The man seemed… wary of something. "Can we take a walk? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

The Doctor's guard was up. "...Sure." he said steadily.

"It's just that you don't, to me, seem to have a track record of emotional intelligence." Tomas said at last, walking through the packed night-markets of the slums.

Ouch. Of the things he was expecting Tomas to say, an insult was quite low down on the list.

The Doctor was sure to keep his expression and voice level. This lessened his trust of the guy, and he needed to know if this was going to be a recurring theme. "What makes you think that."

"Well, Rose -"

Okay… now Tomas was treading on very, very thin ice. His neutral expression morphed into a warning glare. If he wanted to insult him, fine. But if Tomas dared even think he'd stand for any slander against Rose, especially when she wasn't here to defend herself, then -

"- clearly cares about you greatly." Tomas continued, throwing the Doctor off. He wasn't expecting him to come to her defence. Although, really, he shouldn't be surprised. Rose inspired that in people.

"- yet, it sounds like you've been too lost in your own issues to treat her respectfully, and on more than one occasion. It's not up to her to fix you, you need to sort yourself out, so you don't hurt her in the same way again."

The Doctor opened his mouth, too dumbfounded for any words to come out.

"- and it's not just her, it seems. Dr Jones clearly has feelings for you, but you would rather let her deal with it alone, and for your own personal gain, than speak to her about it like an adult." Tomas's words were spilling out. He was letting all the thoughts that had clearly been building leave his mouth, although how he could be so painfully accurate after knowing him only few days was a mystery.

The Doctor tried again, although to say what, he wasn't really sure.

"And then, of course, there is Agent - Captain Jack. Someone loyal, who gave his life, whom you abandoned, alone on a space station. Whom you left trapped miles from his home with no explanation. And for what reason other than an uncomfortable feeling?"

Now the Doctor didn't have anything to say, the guilt raw and overpowering. He couldn't meet his gaze. He already felt terrible over the fight between him, Rose and Jack before landing here. That's why he wanted to forget - to run, like the coward he was. He'd made Rose cry.

"These sorts of things make it a bit difficult to trust you."

They walked on, turning down an alleyway where it was quieter. "I don't blame you." the Doctor said eventually. And it was true. Because, after all, Tomas had known him as a useless human blundering about before he knew 'the Doctor'. Without the Tardis, sense of adventure, or the mad last-minute plans that saved the day, what was left was pretty pathetic... and obvious to a newcomer. "I guess, you're lucky. In a way. You've seen enough already to know I'm a coward. But if you're worried about how I'll treat Rose -"

"I'm not." he said. "If I was, I'd be talking to her. I'm worried about you."

The Doctor's eyebrows climbed his forehead. "Me?"

"Yes." he stated. "What sort of person builds their entire worth on helping people, yet thinks so little of themselves they believe they don't deserve to take up any space."

It felt like he was naked. Tomas had hit the mark the Doctor didn't even know was there.

"That's the root cause, is it not? You have such low self-worth that any semblance of living a life surrounded by people you care about seems like some unreachable fantasy - something for everyone but you. You didn't tell Rose of what she inflicted on Jack, because you assumed your fears around her guilt and leaving were not worth considering, and in doing so you failed to realise that you, and you alone, are the reason she stays. You didn't tell Dr. Jones you regarded her as a friend and not a lover, for you believed that if she was denied, your feelings were not worth her compromising her -"

"Alright." the Doctor said sharply, his barriers raised to maximum. "That's enough."

Tomas shut up. They continued to walk through the alley. The air conditioning units whirred, mixed with the faint sound of voices from the flats they were passing.

"Rose said you were a scientist, not a psychologist." he stated tersely.

Tomas chuckled. "Yes, but you remind me very much of someone I knew."

The Doctor regarded the man next to him carefully. "Your wife." he stated.

Tomas faltered then, his eyes finding the floor, making the Doctor feel as if the scales weren't so tipped against him. Tomas had a vulnerability too. "Yes." he said. "Yes, you're very much alike…" He trailed off. There was something else troubling him, that was obvious. But whatever it was, the man clearly felt he needed to air all his complaints first.

"Now who's the coward." he said, partly teasing, mostly not.

"No, it's not that…. it's." he said, trailing off again. But this time, it was like he couldn't find the words - like he'd forgotten them.

"It's what?" the Doctor pushed.

Tomas's head dipped, letting out a sigh. "No, you're right. I am also a coward." he admitted. "And I am avoiding the problem." From his trouser pocket, Tomas tossed something at the Doctor.

He caught it on reflex, before realising what it was. Even when he studied it and saw the Gallifreyian inscription on the familiar silver pocket watch, he didn't quite understand.

"It's mine." Tomas clarified. "I can open it, but nothing happens."

Stupefied, the Doctor stopped. All he could do was gape at the watch. There was just no way. It was impossible.

He gazed up at Tomas, then back to the watch. "But - but - ". There was just no way. It was impossible. Impossible.

He couldn't be.

He just couldn't.

"At first, I thought it was just my imagination." Tomas explained. "- but as the coincidences grew, they became more difficult to ignore. Especially after meeting Jack…" Again he tried to find something in his memories... something sealed away. "- it's like I've met him before."

This was a revelation in itself, but the Doctor was still processing the fact he was holding the consciousness of another Time Lord in his hands. A Time Lord. It was impossible. But he was staring right at the watch. He could hear it ticking in his hands. The inscription was correct, down to the last detail. The metal was an alloy made from elements only found on Gallifrey. The weight was exactly what it should be if it contained a Time Lord consciousness. Another Time Lord. Another one.

He clicked it open. He did it without thinking. Desperate not to be alone.

But, as Tomas had told him, nothing happened.

Tomas watched him unsteadily. "What I thought were memories are blending with my dreams." he said carefully. "I'm struggling to tell the two apart, and wonder if something is broken."

"What sort of memories?" the Doctor asked, but he wasn't paying attention, asking as a reflex.

Tomas didn't answer straight away, studying him for a few moments. "As we walked today, I could recall sections of the streets." he began warily, speaking slowly as not to cause further reaction. "Of places we visited. It was as if a fog had been lifted, they felt clearer than any memory, but logically I could not have been here." He faltered, and the Doctor lifted his head to watch him. "And now, no matter how much I try to think of how things were before, when I think of my wife I see Penelope."

The Doctor paled, a dread rising sharply in his gut.

"Was it always this way? I can't possibly tell." Tomas continued, lost now in his own problem. "Everything's a blur, yet at the same time they're clearer than ever. I can't explain how I know." he said. "The memories are unreliable, but I just feel it somehow." He pointed to his heart. "In here." he said. "I know it's illogical, but I just know." He faltered again, but he was so desperate, the words forced themselves past his lips. "But there's something else, something missing. Something which I just can't find. Like it's locked away in some unreachable place." Tomas looked dead at him. "- but I know it has something to do with you."

No. No, he couldn't be.

Impossible.

It'd been years, centuries.

The Doctor looked back at the watch, cradling it delicately in his hands. There were rumours Rassilon brought them back in the War. Their inventions were unrivalled and the Time Lords were losing. But he couldn't be. They would never agree.

Penelope was ginger - and he'd heard. He'd found out somehow that...

No.

Ulysses was dead.

And Penelope was a human.

"You know, don't you?" Tomas asked.

The Doctor couldn't speak, which seemed more important than remembering how to breathe.

The horror on the Doctor's face was obvious. Tomas's own expression fell. "Is - is something wrong?"

Memories flooded to the surface. Childhood fears and painful emotions were spilling out of Pandora's freshly opened box. All the stuff he'd been trying to run from since he left Gallifrey had violently and inescapably caught up to him. They were kicking him to the ground and beating him. Every cold shoulder, every judgemental whisper in his direction. Every isolation, every ambush. The suffocating pressure, the stress so bad his hair would fall out. It was too much to bear. His chest felt like it was being crushed.

"Are - are you alright?" Tomas asked.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. His respiratory bypass wasn't listening. Why wasn't it working?! The air wasn't going in. He felt dizzy, and the room started to spin. Then everything went black.

He blinked, and he was somewhere else. Jerking upright, he frantically searched his surroundings. "Rose." he called out. He couldn't remember how he'd arrived. He couldn't see her. And that terrified him.

Where was Rose? Why wasn't she with him?

"You're okay. She's fine. You're fine." a voice told him. A hand pushed him back so he was leaning against something. It took the Doctor a moment to couple that voice with Tomas. "She's still asleep on the vess - Tardis…. I mean."

Momentarily reassured, the Doctor slumped back. As he sat, staring into space, slowly he recalled why he'd ended up like this in the first place. His eyes popped open.

Tomas was standing over him, a look of concern on his face. But it wasn't really Tomas, was it? It was so much to take in. All the pain from… everything was there like it'd happened a second ago. He sat, trying to get himself together, trying to settle the roaring memories swooshing around his head.

"Alright?" Tomas asked.

He tried to play it off. He rubbed his eyes, and massaged his temples with his fingers. "No."

Tomas sat down next to him. "Here." he said, shaking a fast food paper cup at him with bright stripes.

The Doctor just stared, too overwhelmed to bother with a reply.

Tomas pulled the cup back to study it. "It's ridiculously sweet. And that's meant to help with shock, well, as I understand it."

The Doctor eyed the drink suspiciously. Like a donkey with a carrot, it appeared he was only capable of focusing on the first thing in front of him, unable to pick anything out from the storm in his head. "And where'd you get it? You don't have any credits." was the first coherent thought.

"Someone left it on the table. So I took it as I carried you."

"You carried me?"

"Well… yes. You were practically catatonic. I initially thought to take you to the Tardis but you're quite heavy…" He studied him for a moment. "How else do you think you got here?"

The Doctor glanced around. They were in a room like a section of a London tube foot tunnel, no windows at all. Just big enough for them and an old air generator bolted into the floor to his left - some sort of disused maintenance room from the first colonists; he could see an old plaque branding above the metal door. "Well, that's not embarrassing at all." he muttered, trying to distract himself from his warring mind.

"There's no shame in needing to rely on people. Everybody does." Tomas said, before adding in a slightly agitated tone. "Were you not listening to my concerns back there?"

The Doctor ignored him, trying to calm down. There were a thousand cobwebbed memories falling from high shelves and hitting him square in the face, and they just kept coming, and coming, wrecking havoc on his nerves and mind. He hated looking back, he hated thinking about the past. And now a physical reincarnation was staring him right in the face - quite literally.

Yet, already, Ulysses's vessel had unconsciously fallen back into their role as his guardian, and it felt like nails on a chalkboard, crushing his lungs. Another panic attack was coming. The Doctor tried to focus on something else, anything else.

"Where's the watch?" he asked.

"That depends." said Tomas with a casual shrug.

The Doctor's brows furrowed. "Depends on what?"

"Whether or not you drink this." he said, shaking the cup at him.

The Doctor stuttered, he was stunned - stupefied. "Oh, you've got to be kidding."

"I'm not. If you drink it, I'll give you the watch." Tomas said. "To help with the shock."

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to form the words due to the sheer audacity - everything else temporarily put on pause. "Excuse me, but how old exactly do you think I am."

"Well, I'm guessing quite young in your species development given your obvious immaturity." Tomas quipped back.

The Doctor couldn't comment on that, so he didn't. "Just give me the watch, Tomas." he warned, going full 'Oncoming storm'.

Which had no effect whatsoever. "I will, quite happily - once you finish the drink."

Another approach then. "Well, do you want me to fix the watch or not." he snapped.

"Of course, but given your current condition I don't think you're capable, so you might as well convince me by drinking the damn thing."

"For pity sake, just give me the watch." He paused, nearly calling him Ulysses, but saved himself without the human noticing.

"I won't, so I suggest you stop being so stubborn."

The Doctor scoffed. "I'm being stubborn!"

"Yes, and before you resort to physical violence, I feel the need to remind you I have spent two months working as a farm hand in a field, in a barn, while you have been held up in a nice heated room and fed baked treats, and are still in recovery. I have the clear advantage."

Forget the pain. The Doctor was utterly frustrated. Ulysses – no, it wasn't proven yet - was not going to budge, and he forgot how much that pissed him right off. "Fine." he snapped. And took the stupid drink, taking a short, single sip, glaring at Tomas the whole time. "There. Happy now? Now give me the watch."

"You didn't finish all of it."

"Didn't-!"

"- Those are my conditions."

Forget feeling like he was two-hundred, he was being treated like he was five.

Again, Tomas didn't budge, watching him expectantly.

Damn him!

His slurps filled the room, it was sickly sweet, like maple syrup straight from the glass bottle, but to the Doctor it was nothing but bitter – bitter and salty. He imagined how this would look, and was thankful to all the deities in the known universe that Rose or the others hadn't witnessed the humiliating exchange. She'd never let him live it down - ever. "There, done."

Tomas smiled smugly, which made the Doctor want to hit him. "Excellent." he beamed. Then leaned back and fished the watch from his front trouser pocket, handing it to him.

The Doctor snatched it off him.

"Well, there's no need to be rude." Tomas grumbled.

He never imagined that pure unadulterated irritation would be the first emotion he'd be able to separate from the mess, but the Doctor didn't let himself dwell on it to work out the specifics. He didn't want to think about it at all. The watch was his distraction, only now that he had it in his hand again, it made the situation more real. He could hear the quiet song of another Time Lord's presence, almost like two tiny hearts beating in his hand. He could tell it was Ulysses in there, confirming for him what he really knew deep down. "And nothing happened when you opened it the first time?"

"No. Nothing." the human replied, eager for the diagnosis.

He flipped the watch in his hand, it seemed pretty standard. No modifications, at least that he could see. "Nothing at all? No blast of memories, or voice or anything like that?"

"No, it was the same result as when you opened it." He paused, his lips pressed together. "If you recall -"

"Yes." the Doctor complained. He looked back at the watch, turning it in his hand. "You said you recognised Jack.."

"And Penelope." Tomas brutally reminded him. "There's only flashes of places." The man's eyes were somewhere else, trying hard to relive a life lived through a dream. "I can't quite work out if there was a particular reason we were here, or if we were just visiting."

"Hmm."

In the Odyssey Penelope and Ulysses were husband and wife. While returning from war, Ulysses and his men were thrown off course. Thus, began a years-long journey to return to his wife and son. And if he was, by definition, the son, then Penelope…

No. Absolutely not. He couldn't bear it.

"You were an inventor. A good one - brilliant even. One of the best we had." he interjected, forcing his voice to be slow and calm, speaking before Tomas pushed him down memory lane any further.

Tomas gave the Doctor his full attention, and with it the topic of conversation left by the wayside. His plan worked.

"Which was good for you, because you had a tendency to cause trouble. Gallifrey was very… orderly, especially back then, and you had a lot to say about it."

"But… then, how did I end up here?"

The Doctor huffed air out his cheeks. "Now there's a question." he admitted. "I don't know. I thought they executed you for treason."

Tomas slumped back against the wall, reeling.

"There was lots of speculation," the Doctor continued warily, noticing his reaction. "but I never knew the details."

He waited for Tomas to say something, but his eyes were unfocused; hurt and glossed over.

The Doctor watched him carefully. "Alright?"

"No. I - to be killed… Well, I must've been cruel."

"No." the Doctor said, shutting it down instantly.

Ulysses always preached kindness and understanding. As an adolescent youngling it drove him mad - a venomous, bitter sort of anger, the kind only experienced between a guardian and ward. Ulysses had shown him love in a society that shamed emotions. They'd taught him to question where blind obedience was the expectation. They'd encouraged helping others where everyone else was taught never to interfere. They'd raised him with humanity, on a planet where humans didn't exist, and he hated them for it. It made him stand out more than he already did, and back then he wanted nothing more than to fit in - for Ulysses to 'just teach him how to be a real Time Lord and not keep corrupting him into some filthy renegade.'

The pain was getting too much, so the Doctor tried to push it deep back into his mind. This was what he wanted to avoid, all this buried stuff clawing back to the surface. But the floodgates were open.

"You were kind." he said, daring not look at Tomas. "And brave. You fought for change - to make us better. That's why they killed you, not because you hurt anyone, but because you wanted to help. But you must've found a way out of it, that or someone else did. Turned you human and sent you to another universe where no one could find you."

"Oh." Tomas's eyes distant and lost, staring at a spot on the wall.

"Alright?" the Doctor asked again.

"Not sure." he said spacily, gazing at the white tiles as the Doctor heard the hubbub of the night market in the distance.

He turned his head towards the Doctor. "Were we friends, then?"

After a second of surprise, the Doctor's guard went up. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you clearly have a lot of issues to work through -"

"Thanks." the Doctor stated flatly. Ulysses tended to keep their critiques to themselves, but Tomas didn't have that filter, and that hurt, coming from them.

"- but, it seems our interests align, well, used to, from my understanding. Regardless of reason, you help people. Birds of a feather and all that… so, -" Tomas regarded him curiously. "Did we know each other? Were we friends?"

The Doctor simply stared at him, holding his gaze for a moment, attempting to cover his deer-in-headlights look, trying to work out some clever response. He couldn't tell Tomas the truth, absolutely not. He didn't want more questions. And also he didn't know. Would Ulysses see him as a friend? Because Tomas clearly was disappointed in him. And, if Ulysses was running about with Time Agents… if Penelope really was their wife and - anyway - then he couldn't really say that he knew them - who they were, really - could he?

The Doctor huffed. "I dunno. A lot's changed since back then."

Tomas's gaze dropped. "Yes." he said, looking him up and down, knowing, already, he was holding back. "Rose said you're the last one."

He winced. "Yeah." he said flatly. The silence in his head meant it was impossible to forget. He stared blankly at the wall, the watch now heavy in his hand.

"So, are you sure, then, that you want me to fix this?" he asked Tomas, weaving the watch between his fingers. "I mean, I'm guessing you're asking me so you can open it and change back. …And it's not so great being a Time Lord at the moment."

"Yes." Tomas said thoughtfully. "Yes, I think so."

"Sure? It'd just be us."

"Well, I am just as alone as a human, perhaps more so." he said, shuffling from the uncomfortable topic; an odd thing for the Doctor to see from the Time Lord he knew. "I am a foreigner in this world, with no place to go back to. At least, as a Time Lord, I'll know the universe I find myself in, even if we decide to go our separate ways."

"Right, right." The Doctor pressed down on the clasp. The watch flicked open, and he saw Tomas jerk out of the corner of his eye, but as before, nothing happened, physically nor telepathically. "Hmm."

"Well?"

"Nothing." He closed and opened it again. "Nope. The internal release mechanism must be broken - that, or it isn't the trigger at all." He sniffed it, but it gave him no new information.

"So… what happens now?"

"Well, preventing the paradox has to take priority - especially now we know a Time Lord – you – is involved with Gate. Anything could've happened on that planet - she might've survived the explosion, and were meeting her after the event. We won't know for sure until we find her." the Doctor said, shifting to get up.

Tomas hastily followed. "Right… well, in that case, -"

Oh no, the Doctor thought, what life shattering revelation was Tomas about to reveal now. What old memory was he about to drag kicking and screaming to the surface.

"I spotted a bar in the slums close to the entrance of the terminal. If me and Penelope are connected, then it might be a good place to start."

There was a slight pause as he waited for Tomas to say something more debilitating. But he didn't, and the Doctor let out a small sigh of relief. "Yeah, could be something."

In the distance, as they weaved through the crowds back towards the Tardis, a wolf howled.

A/N: AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Just watched the episode! RTD is back baby! I loved it, it was so goofy... yeah a bit iffy in places, but most of it was good. So happy to see Donna back.

Also, with Tomas/Ulysses and Penelope as characters, they were 'born', I guess, through me thinking about the End of Time and the woman? at the end who was rumoured to be his mother; how the Doctor changes his mind and shows mercy when he sees her. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me that, as the Doctor as a character tends to learn morals from the people around him (Martha closing the eyes in the hospital, for example), his/their desire to help people was likely nurtured as well.