Chapter Text
February 27 2008
He was so, so cold.
The shed he'd been hiding in for weeks had a broken window where the cold wind seeped through, making him shiver and curl into himself. He'd been hiding from the one being that could send him to the exile that was originally planed for him, The Doctor.
He knew he wasn't meant to exist, not in this world nor the Parallel. That's why he was supposed to stay with Rose, forget all about the people he was actually bonded with and go along with her like an obedient dog. Even if Rose didn't want him around either.
He wasn't the Doctor she was still chasing, even at the extent of leaving her family in the other world.
Donna had vouched for him, and so had Jackie, in her own motherly way. They saw him as his own person, but with kinder eyes than Rose's. They had cared for him. Speaking of Rose, she refused to let him talk to her the way the Doctor did, she eyed with misplaced distrust, as if it was his fault that she was supposed to go back.
Oh Donna, he still felt the phantom pain of Donna having her memories ripped from her head. He missed her, he was horrified at knowing she wouldn't remember anything and he couldn't do anything to help or protect her. She'd been the first one to treat him like a person.
He also missed Martha and Jack, and Jackie and Sarah Jane. He wanted to go home.
He had thought about going to them for help, but the fear that their loyalty to the Doctor would be stronger than their desire to help him kept him in place. He might share the same face, but he had no Tardis and no screwdriver, nothing to make him special.
His suit was his own shield against the cold, he hadn't eaten in days, to the point his stomach was growling and cramping. There were some old sacks and rags in the shed he used as a makeshift bed where he laid with his back against the window.
Before sleep claimed him, he whispered a soft goodnight to Donna.
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He was running through a maze littered with the bodies of his friends.
Jack was pressed against a wall, constantly being shot at by Daleks.
Sarah Jane laid in a pool of blood with a gaping wound in her stomach.
Jackie and Mickey were sprawled with their eyes wide open, forever silenced.
Martha was dragging herself over the floor, clutching her chest. She begged him to take her home to her parents, to her mum; before a Dalek shot her in the head and she fell, dead.
Donna stood in the middle of the maze, her eyes burning, mouth slack. At her feet, the words "YOUR FAULT" were written in her blood.
Besides him, Rose ran as well, holding the Dimension Cannon, smiling just like the Doctor.
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He was violently awoken by the sound of the door breaking open and two figures approaching him. A sharp pain in his chest kept him from scrambling back in panic.
He tried to stand when one of the figures tried to touch him, but his body was too weak, and he collapsed from the effort.
The last thing he saw before his vision went black was a pair of bright blue eyes.