Chapter Text
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Rose flung open the door of her old flat with a loud crash.
“Mum!”
Jackie swore and came running into the hallway.
“Rose, what the bleeding hell is wrong with you, I nearly had a heart attack!”
“Mum, I need your help,” Rose said, running into her bedroom, “can you make a cup of tea? Grab some fruit, anything you've got, and, uh… Oh! Do you still have Howard's pajamas?” She appeared back in her doorway clutching an old hoodie and looking harried.
“Hello to you too, and what do you need all that for?” Jackie asked, heading into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
“For the Doctor!” Rose was rushing about the house gathering random objects - a book, a discman, an Elvis bobble head - with frantic urgency. “We're parked out front, come as soon as you can!” She shouted, before running back out the front door.
“Who taught her manners?” Jackie grumbled, collecting the demanded items in a box, along with three mugs. As soon as the tea was steeping in the pot she made her way out into the courtyard where the door to the TARDIS stood slightly ajar.
Her daughter crouched on the floor on the far side of the console, talking in a low soothing voice. As Jackie came around she found the Doctor sitting there in his button down, shirt sleeves rolled up, head in his hands.
“Here's my mum, Jackie. You know her.” The Doctor glanced up, looking skeptical and lost.
Rose's face was strained when she looked up at her mother.
“He's forgotten me, mum. He's forgotten everything.”
—
They'd had an accident, Rose explained, quite literally, an outer space fender bender. Just as they'd materialized in orbit around the Eye of Orion, another ship had gone hurtling past, clipping the corner of the TARDIS. It would take more than that to damage their ship, but they'd been sent spinning, throwing both passengers flying into the walls. Rose hadn't fallen far, but the Doctor had crashed into a roundel, setting off some sort of electrical short.
“I almost thought he'd died,” Rose said shakily, leaning against the console, “he was unconscious for nearly two minutes, and that damn message was activated!”
“That man sounds nothing like me,” the Doctor grumbled from behind Rose. She ignored him.
“What message is this, then?” Jackie asked.
“Remember when I came back on my own, before the Doctor changed? When you and Mickey helped me get The TARDIS working? That's how I got home that time, ‘Cause he recorded this message, a fail safe in case he was in mortal danger, so the TARDIS could get me home without his help.” Rose looked back at the Doctor who was playing idly with the bobble head. “I'm glad at least it was still the old recording, he never set up another. If he tried to send me away again I'd kill him.”
“Not the most reassuring thing to hear from one's captors!” the Doctor called out, and Rose shook her head, looking exasperated.
She pulled a mug out of the box Jackie still held and filled it with tea, “anyway, I guess the TARDIS saw him get knocked unconscious and panicked, sent us home.” Rose appeared to be trying very hard to stay calm and rational. She returned to the Doctor's side, offering him the tea. “Here, Doctor, this might help, get your head back on straight. Just the thing to get the synapses firing, yeah?”
“You keep calling me that, but what is my name?” He grouched, but took the tea nonetheless.
“What, he doesn't even know that?” Jackie asked.
“I'm right here you know, you can speak to me.”
“Someone's tetchy when he's lost his marbles.”
“Mum, stop it.” All three fell silent for a moment.
“Well, what's all the junk for then?” Jackie asked with a slight air of apology.
“Tryna jog his memory,” Rose was sounding more and more irritable, “I thought maybe some stuff from his first day with this face…” She pulled a bath robe out of the box her mother had brought, and picked up a pear. “This the only fruit you got?”
“Sorry I didn't keep my house stocked with every fruit on earth just in case your boyfriend lost his memory.”
“He's not… it's fine,” she sighed and returned to the Doctor's side, sitting with the robe and pear in her lap.
He was leaning back against the railing with his arms draped over his raised knees, looking a little bored. Rose held out the pear. He sniffed it and immediately made a face.
“Anything?”
“No,” the Doctor said bluntly, watching Rose's face closely with a frown between his eyebrows.
“Well, what about this? You wore this when you were sick, d’you remember?” Rose held out the robe for him to touch, but he pushed it aside.
“No! This isn't going to work!” The Doctor leapt to his feet, growling in frustration and pacing around the room. Rose slumped where she sat, burying her face in the fluffy fabric. Jackie came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Why don't you come up and have some supper, love? Take a rest. His memory might come back on its own with a little time.”
“No,” Rose said, shaking herself back out of her momentary despair, “I'm gonna keep trying. I don't think I should leave him alone anyway.”
Jackie sighed. “Right. Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” She made her way towards the door. “Now don't you go taking off without a proper goodbye, you got that?” And with that, Rose was left alone with a Doctor who had no idea who he was.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence. The Doctor stood with his arms crossed on the far side of the console.
“Sorry… if I was rude. Is that who I am?”
Rose leaned back on her hands. “Sometimes. And sometimes you're really kind. And funny. And brilliant.” She was beginning to lose hold of her composure. The actual prospect of the Doctor never remembering her was a nightmare too horrible for her to contemplate, so her mind had refused to consider it an option. She had just flung herself into problem solving mode. Now she was running out of ideas, and her mind finally had room to process the awful possibility. She let out half a dry sob before reigning herself in again.
The Doctor was still watching her from the far side of the room, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. His frustration was ebbing into curiosity.
“So… I'm a time traveler, you say. And this is my ship.” Rose nodded. “Right. And you're my… friend. My travel companion?”
“Yeah. You're my very best friend in the universe,” she replied despondently.
“Right.” The Doctor began pacing slowly around the room again. “Your mother,” he said awkwardly, “she said… you're sure we aren't more than that?”
Rose felt herself go pink. “Mum just likes to tease me.”
“Of course. So that's a no, then.”
Rose bit her lips. Now that was unfair. Of course they were more than friends. They'd both known it for ages, they'd just never said it aloud. She knew she had to be truthful about his life, anything might jog his memory, but why did she have to be the one to confess it first?
“We've never, like, called ourselves anything other than friends,” she hedged, “but… I mean, I can't speak for you if your feelings are…” she trailed off, avoiding his eyes. She picked up the Elvis bobble head, feeling the Doctor's gaze still on her for a long moment.
“... Right.”
With a sharp breath, Rose tossed the toy in the box and stood abruptly. “Well, you had a long life before you knew me. Maybe something older will do the trick,” and walking briskly, she lead the way out of the engine room.
—
The TARDIS wardrobe might have been Rose's favorite room on the ship. Multiple floors filled with racks upon racks bursting with colour. She was certain she had yet to see every corner of the labyrinth. None of the clothing was organized by any logical system she could understand, but somehow the TARDIS was always showing her to just the right spot with just the right outfit for the occasion, and today was no exception.
Rose explained regeneration to the Doctor, and to her surprise he accepted the idea without question. She supposed that was as normal to him as having only one heart was to her, and subconsciously the information was nothing new. As they wandered through the wardrobe, Rose could tell something guided the Doctor to specific items. She of course had only known him in one other incarnation, but the familiar leather jacket he was wearing when they had first met presented itself to the Doctor almost at once, without Rose's help. He frowned at it, running a hand down the leather sleeve, then glanced back at Rose.
“Anything coming back?”
“Just… A feeling.”
“That's good! That's a start!”
“Mm. So long as I'm not just imagining it.” He turned away without explaining and continued down the row of clothing. Rose followed, brushing a hand over the worn leather as she passed.
There were more moments like this. As they moved deeper, the Doctor would stop at various items and contemplate them, remarking on any feelings that came up. He pulled out a remarkable rainbow patchwork jacket and stared at it for a full minute in slightly horrified awe. When Rose prompted him he shook his head, muttering, “what a nutter,” and moved on.
At one point the Doctor discovered a ludicrously long scarf and began giggling.
“Good feeling?”
“Yeah,” he grinned, and it lifted her spirits considerably, “I think I was happy in this.” He moved on, still smiling, looking a little more relaxed.
A while later a white jacket caught his eye and the smile dissolved.
“Doctor?”
He ignored her, stepping closer and pulling the jacket off the rack. His expression was pained, and his knuckles turning white where they clutched the hanger. Rose felt lost, she knew nothing about this part of his past.
She put a hand on his arm. “You okay?”
He shook his head slightly. "Oh.” He'd touched the decimated once-leafy-green thing that was pinned to the lapel, and it fell apart in his fingers. He took a sudden, steadying breath. “Brave heart…”
After another moment he shoved the jacket back on its rack and turned abruptly to Rose. “Can we stop now?” without waiting for a response, he pushed past her, brusquely making his way back the way they'd come. Rose followed without comment. It hadn't been entirely fruitless, and she didn't want to see the Doctor in pain. A break might help.
Passing the place where his old leather jacket hung, the Doctor paused, then pulled it off the hanger before striding out of the room. Rose followed behind as the Doctor meandered back through the halls. Donning the leather jacket, he began digging in the pockets and examining the things he found before discarding them on the floor - a penny whistle, a piece of chalk, a pair of handcuffs, a complicated remote control, a toy soldier with a little plastic parachute, a bag of candy - leaving a bizarre breadcrumb trail behind him.
“So… You gonna tell me what you're doing?”
The Doctor turned to talk to her while walking backwards down the corridor - Rose couldn't help noticing he didn't need any assistance navigating.
“This is what the last guy wore, right?”
“Yeah… I mean, it's what you wore when you were him.”
“And that's when you and I met?”
“Yeah, does that matter?”
“I'm glad you asked!” He clapped his hands together and ran ahead into the engine room. “We are going to recreate our meeting!” he said, flinging open the front doors just as Rose joined him. “You obviously mean a lot to me, so if we put me right back in the situation where I met my… best friend…” he put an unmistakable amount of skepticism into those two words, “an important event attached to strong emotion, who knows, it might fire up the neurons!”
“Okay, great in theory,” Rose chuckled, following him out into the twilit courtyard, “but that's gonna be tough… you blew up the building where we met.”
“What?” The Doctor stopped in his tracks giving her a horrified look. “Why??”
“You had good reason,” she said, not really wanting to explain the whole thing, “but if we find an elevator that might do?”
“So we met in an elevator.”
“No, that was right after… but I don't think any of it is gonna work without being chased by a bunch of mannequins.” The Doctor watched her blankly while she thought hard. “Hang on a minute.”
Rose crossed the courtyard to the far corner where two preteen boys were arguing over some sort of playing card.
“Jake, Bhavin, you got any firecrackers?”
“Why, you gonna turn us in?”
“Wasn't gonna. Why, think I should?”
“Then why do you wanna know?”
“I'll buy ‘em off ya.”
“20 quid. And show us your bra.”
“Jake!” Bhavin covered his face with his hands looking mortified. Rose raised an eyebrow and gave Jake a playful smack upside the head.
“How about I pay you what you got em for and I don't tell your mum she raised a little perv, sound alright?”
A few minutes later and a few pounds lighter, Rose headed back to where the Doctor stood carrying a plastic bag filled with bottle rockets. She had another idea at the last moment. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, presumably to ask what she had planned, she grabbed his hand, grinning.
“RUN!”
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