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Chapter Text

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled her nose, sharp and clean. The air filling her lungs was being forced there by the cold cannula fitted on her nose.

But she was finally awake. 

The first thing Rose noticed was the dull ache in her abdomen, a deep soreness that almost paralyzed her. The sound of an oxygen mask hissing filled the silence. Her vision was blurry, and it took her a moment to focus, her surroundings gradually coming into view.

She was in a hospital room.

The walls were an off-white, the blinds pulled halfway down, but she can see London outside and recognized the city she'd lived her whole life in immediately.

The low hum of medical machinery was the only other noise, aside from the soft sound of breathing. Not just hers, but the breathing of someone else.

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she shifted slightly, testing the movement of her body. The pain is sharp, but seemed mostly bearable- especially with the distraction of her panicking mind.

She felt weak- like she hadn't been awake in days. That's when she noticed him.

The Doctor.

He was asleep, slumped in one of those awful, uncomfortable reclining hospital chairs, his battered leather coat thrown over his legs like a blanket. His face was drawn, his dark hair sticking up in disheveled tufts- a bit longer than Rose had ever seen him allow it to be His eyes were closed tight.

He had a growth of scruff so long it was almost a full beard- more facial hair than Rose had ever seen him with.

And on his chest Rose saw he was holding something… or rather, someone.

A baby.

A newborn baby, judging by the size of the bundle.

Wrapped in a soft, lavender blanket, the tiny figure lay against the Doctor's chest, breathing in slow, rhythmic patterns. Her confusion deepened.

What is this? Where am I?

Rose blinked, trying to focus, but nothing made any sense. Her memory was a fog, blank patches everywhere.

She didn't remember a baby. She didn't remember coming home to London. She didn't even remember how she ended up in the hospital.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to push the words out, her throat felt like sandpaper, dry and weak from disuse.

"Doctor..." Her voice cracked, barely a whisper. She tried again, harder this time, panic rising in her chest. "Doctor?!"

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it's not this- the Doctor doesn't stir. He doesn't hear her. He appears to be in a deep sleep, one fueled by need due to pure exhaustion.

Why can't he hear me?

Her pulse quickened as she tried to sit up, wincing at the pain in her abdomen. She's too weak. Her hands trembled, slipping off the hospital bed railing as she struggled for purchase. She cried out in frustration, her voice barely more than a raspy gasp. Still, no response.

And then, she noticed her mother.

Jackie was sitting in a stiff, non-reclining chair next to the Doctor, nearly tucked into the corner. Rose hadn't noticed her at first. Her mum's head was tilted back, her eyes closed, a light snore escaping her lips. Jackie's hands were folded in her lap, but there's something different about her. Her expression was strained, like she'd been awake for too long. Also exhausted, like the Doctor.

Rose's breath came even faster, her heart racing, the beeping of the monitor rapidly reflecting her panic. She couldn't remember any of this- none of it. Why was she here? Where was she? And why did the Doctor have a baby?

"Doctor..." she breathed again, her voice even weaker than before- but also more desperate.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Doctor stirred. His eyes snapped open, and they lock with hers- bloodshot red a stark contrast to the icy blue Rose adored.

At first, there was a flicker of confusion, and then his face softened with relief. He stood up quickly, holding the baby to his chest, cradling it gently. His movements were swift, protective.

The moment he stood, Rose called out again, her panic surging.

"Doctor, Doctor- Please. What... what's goin' on?"

But instead of answering, the Doctor looked toward Jackie then he gently nudged her chair with his foot, waking the sleeping woman. He handed her the baby and mumbled something, but Rose wasn't sure what.

Jackie took the tiny bundle in her arms with surprising tenderness and familiarity- instantly beginning to hum to the child. The Doctor's face was tight with worry, and his eyes darted back to Rose, even as he was already moving to the door.

"I'll get a nurse," he said, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper.

He hurried toward the door, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room from the fall of his heavy boots. Rose felt a wave of helplessness hit her again, causing nausea to start bubbling in her stomach.

None of this makes sense, She thought. Nobody will explain.

She tried to push herself upright again, but the weight of her body was too much. The soreness in her abdomen flared with every movement, and she gasped in pain. Her chest constricted, the hurt in her body blending with the confusion in her mind.

A moment later, two nurses hurried into the room with the Doctor hot on their heels, their steps brisk and professional. One of them began taking her vitals, checking the machines around her, while the other adjusted her oxygen cannula she had knocked loose when she had tried to move.

"How are you feeling?" one of the nurses asked gently, but Rose couldn't answer- not properly. The question seemed so trivial, so out of place in the chaos of her mind. She can barely process the question, let alone the situation.

"I don'... I don' understand," Rose croaked out, her voice still weak. "I don' understand anything. Where am I? Why 'm I here? Who's baby is that?"

Her voice cracked again as she gestured toward Jackie, who is softly cooing at the child in her arms. The baby was so small, seemed so fragile, and had begun making small angry noises back to Jackie.

The nurses exchanged a look as Rose questioned them, then one stepped forward to help her sit up in the bed, easing her against the pillows. Rose winced at the movement, though the nurse was gentle. The other nurse adjusted the IV drip in her arm, making sure the medication was still steady. They took turns checking the bandage she now knew was on the back of her head, and shining a light in her eyes. The nurses mumbled together, and Rose tried to listen- but she began to panic again when she overhead the words 'brain bleed'.

Rose looked to the Doctor, who stood in the corner and out of the nurses' way, pale and unmoving. He had a hand over his mouth, and his eyes shown with pain and fear.

"Please, try to calm down," one of them said softly, though there was an edge of concern in her voice. "We'll call your doctor. I know this has been quite a lot to try and process."

Rose tried to steady her breath, her mind spinning as she watched the Doctor return to Jackie's side. He leaned over her and put his hand gently on the small tuft of dark hair poking out of the swaddle it was in. He didn't look at Rose again immediately, but when he did, it's like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He looked so relieved.

But still, he was careful, his eyes scanning her face like he was looking for something.

"Doctor," she breathed again, her voice hoarse and throat dry, "what's happenin'?"

The Doctor hesitated for a second, then he walked slowly to her side, his hands trembling as he pulled up another stiff wooden chair to sit next to her.

"Rose... It's... She's our baby," he said quietly, his voice laced with a sadness she can't place, one she'd never heard before. "You- We-" He swallowed hard, "You had an emergency C-section after we had the crash."

Rose's mind spun again.

A crash? C-section?

‘Our’ baby?

Her heart pounded. She didn't remember any crash. She didn't remember anything. She and the Doctor had just barely began to be a couple- a few lovely snog sessions but nothing she could remember that would've led to a child.

Nothing was more domestic- Rose couldn't believe what her eyes showed her plainly.

The pieces didn't fit, and her body felt so frail, and she was still so confused. She looked closer at the Doctor's arm, his neck- noticing bandages were wrapped around them, bloody gauze peeking through on his wrist.

A crash.

A brain bleed.

The TARDIS had been through some rough landings before- but never a crash. It seemed impossible.

"I don'... remember," Rose whispered, shaking her head slightly. "I don' remember anything."

The Doctor's face fell, his eyes full of pain, but he didn't explain further.

Jackie stood and handed the baby to him.

"You need t’ rest," she said softly, almost as if she was trying to shield her from something. She came across the room and gently kissed Rose's forehead.

Rose watched them both move about her room, her confusion deepening and making her feel like she was seasick. The Doctor rose with the fussing bundle, gently swaying, humming from deep in his chest.

This life- the life they're describing, the one she was seeing- wasn't hers.

The adventure-filled life she remembered was gone, replaced by this sterile room, bandages, and a baby she didn't know- apparently with the man she'd loved for so long.

It seemed like a dream- Like someone was mocking her greatest desire.

But before she could protest anything, a doctor walked in, cutting through the thick tension.

"Hello, Rose," he said gently, as he propped at the foot of her bed. "I'm Dr. Matthews, your neurologist. I'm here to explain what's happened."

His voice was calm, reassuring, and he had kind eyes. Rose focused on his face, willing herself to believe him. It seemed like the Doctor and her mother both did.

But the words that came out of his mouth made it harder to hold on to anything.

"You've suffered a brain bleed from the crash," he explained, his voice measured. "My team and I- We've surgically repaired it, and yes, it was minor, but it's caused some temporary amnesia. Your memories should come back, but it'll take time."

"Crash..." Rose whispered again, more to herself. "Amnesia?"

Dr. Matthews nodded, confirming the painful reality she didn't want to accept.

"Yes- People often think of it as something from a movie, but in cases like yours where you've had a lot of cranial trauma, it does happen. We'll keep monitoring you. But you should start feeling more like yourself soon. I'm afraid I'm just the neurosurgeon, though. Your OBGYN should be by to see you shortly to check your incision. And a pediatrician for your little girl."

Rose looked at the Doctor, at Jackie, at the baby... and back to Dr. Matthews at last. Her heart ached but none of it made sense.

She didn't belong here. Not in this hospital, not in this life.

Rose Tyler belonged on the TARDIS with the Doctor, running. Always running.

"I'm not... this isn't right," she insisted, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief.

The Doctor, still holding the baby, didn't meet her eyes.

And it was then Rose realized, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that the life she remembered, the life she had been living- full of far off places and fantastic new worlds- was slipping further away by the second.

Rose's eyes flickered between the doctor, the Doctor, and the baby girl in his arms. In that moment, the crushing truth settled in.

Nothing in that hospital room belonged to her.

The life she knew, the life she was sure she had, was gone.

And she was trapped in someone else's reality.

Chapter Text

Jackie Tyler was, if possible, more nervous than Rose when she was discharged 'home'.

An accomplishment, considering Jackie seemed to know where 'home' for Rose was, for "Dr. John Foreman" as the Doctor was calling himself, for little Dorothy, who Rose was still scared to hold, and for Rose herself.

There was just something about her mother's insistence that they really should keep her until she started to feel more like herself.

The OBGYN cleared both mother and baby for discharge, pending Neuro approval- which was given because he felt being in her home would give a nurturing, comfortable environment for her memories to return.

Her doctors had all asked over and over if she felt comfortable going home with ‘her partner’, and the Doctor had stayed quiet, face neutral, as he waited patiently for her to answer- and she answered honestly. She wasn’t afraid, she didn’t feel unsafe - just confused.

That had made the Doctor smile.

Jackie Tyler wasn’t entirely convinced it was the best of ideas. Rose’s OB and neurologist, however, insisted there was no medical reason to keep her there.

The Doctor, in spite of Jackie’s concerns, seemed more than confident in his abilities to care for his family, as he reminded Jackie more than once. Rose- her head still in pain- had a hard time following their argument, but had to admit that no matter what her reality, some things, it seemed, never changed, and she was almost thankful for that.

Wherever she was, at least this version of her mother and the Doctor weren't so different. The arguing wasn’t good , but it was familiar. 

Rose sat, head in hand, in the wheelchair the nurses had insisted she use to be escorted out, the baby in her carrier at her feet. She couldn’t bring herself to try and keep up with the half-whispered arguments going on between her mother and the Doctor out in the hall- but it was getting louder now. Jackie’s voice, sharp and high, then a rough, Northern growl in reply.

“-not bloody safe , is it? She ‘bout doesn’t even know her own name half the time!”

“She remembers enough to know I’m not some stranger, Jackie. I’m still hers an’ she’s still mine. She’s not frightened of goin’ with me.”

“Oh, and that’s your gold standard, is it? ‘Not frightened’?”

“Jackie-”

“No. No, don’ even try. She needs more time. I don’ care how many bloody nappies you know how t’ change. She’s my daughter.”

“An‘ that baby is mine. ”

That made the hallway fall quiet. Wheels and footsteps stopped for a moment.

Rose blinked down at the baby, who’d wriggled slightly but didn’t awaken. The door creaked open a moment later, and the Doctor stepped inside, jaw tight, that stormy look in his eyes again. Jackie followed close behind, arms crossed, mouth pressed in a grim line. Neither of them looked at Rose.

“What’s goin’ on?” Rose asked softly.

The Doctor’s gaze snapped to her instantly. He softened at once, and walked over slowly. “Nothin’ you need t’ worry about, love.”

“Sounds like you’re fightin’.”

“We were.” Jackie’s voice cut in sharp. “B’cause he wants t’ take you home before you’re ready.”

“ We are ready-” The Doctor started, then visibly pulled himself back. “She wants to keep you here longer, just in case. But we both know you’re ready. You passed every test they gave you. Doctors said you could go. Said you should , said it would help.”

Rose shifted her legs. “Feels weird, though. Goin’ home to somewhere I don’t remember…”

The Doctor crouched in front of her.

“You don’t have t’ remember it. Just feel it. You’ve felt safe with me every step since you woke up… Haven’t you?”

“Yeah. I have- Always.” Rose said without hesitation. 

“Right. That’s what matters. I know how t’ take care of you, Rose. You-” He paused and swallowed hard. “You picked me. You trusted me. We built a life, me an’ you. That doesn’t vanish just because you can’t remember it right now.”

Jackie scoffed behind him, but he didn’t budge.

“Look, I’m not askin’ you to fake it. I’m not gonna force anything. Hell, if you don’ want to, you don’t have t’ go… But you said you didn’t want to be in here anymore. That house’s still got your name on the mailbox, an’ it’s got your slippers by the bed, an’ all your shampoos an’ things lined up exactly how you like it. You made a home there. I’m just… holdin’ it for you ‘til you’re ready t’ remember its ours.”

Jackie’s arms dropped a little, but she didn’t soften entirely.

“An’ if somethin’ happens while she’s with you? If she falls, or panics, or-”

“I’ll handle it. I can handle it. You think I haven’t been scared too?” He turned slightly toward her, his voice sharper now. “You think this hasn’t been bloody awful for me, Jackie? Watchin’ her look right through me and not see where we are now? But I never once gave up, an’ I never will. Never.”

Rose stared at him, heart thudding faster. She didn’t remember it, but that didn’t make it feel any less true.

Jackie looked between them, then finally let out a sigh. “Fine. But I’m comin’ by first thing tomorrow mornin’. An’ if she so much as stubs a toe-”

“You’ll be the first t’ know.”

He stood and reached for the baby bag, slinging it over one shoulder like it was second nature. Rose looked down again at the baby in her car seat carrier. Still asleep, peaceful even with the chaos.

It made Rose wonder what she’d gotten used to in the womb. 

“Alright,” she murmured. “Let’s go home, then.”

The Doctor’s face cracked into the smallest, gentlest smile. “Yeah. Let’s.”

He stepped back outside to get a nurse, and as she waited, Rose couldn't help but stare down at the baby, and she could not help but find herself and the Doctor in the child- Dorothy's dark hair, just like his, was short, tousled, and a little unruly, a deep shade of brown that looked almost black in certain light. Her eyes, though, were the standout feature, an intense, brilliant shade of blue, just like her father's, wide and full of wonder. When she’d been awake, she looked back at Rose and her eyes gleamed with a curiosity far, far beyond her few days of life.

Her nose was Rose's- small and delicate, with a soft curve at the bridge, a perfect little button that carried the gentleness of her mother. Below it, her chin, a subtle blend of both, had a soft point, not as sharp as Rose's, but with the same gentle curve that suggested a quiet strength.

God help them, she'd be strong willed.

Her skin was fair, just like Rose's, with a natural warmth to it that made her look almost golden under the light.

Like a doll, or an angel- And Rose felt her chest ache.

She didn't remember the little girl, not being pregnant, none of it. She was scared of getting attached, because this was not her life- she was the wrong Rose- but there was something inside her that recognized the baby.

Rose wanted to want her.

To scoop her close and smell the new baby smell on her, feel her fluffy little head against her cheek. Sing to her. Cradle her close.

Be her mum.

Dorothy Hazel Foreman.

The evidence was clear as day. When her nurse and the Doctor had gently helped her shower as her own mother stayed with little Dorothy Hazel, the stretchmarks and wound from her cesarean were both present and very, very real. She felt every stitch.

Her mum and the Doctor, 'John' as Jackie kept calling him, were back to arguing to the side when the nurse came in.

"Rose?" She spoke quietly, ignoring the family squabble in the corner, "You alright?"

"Mmm." Rose hummed, her eyes never leaving the newborn who seemed to be losing the fight against sleep.

"Ready t' go then?" She asked, and without looking up, Rose nodded. The nurse cleared her throat. "Dr. Foreman?"

The Doctor stepped past Jackie, letting their argument go instantly. The nurse handed him a stack of papers, appointment cards, and a large paper bag- almost like a gift bag- of nappies and wipes from the hospital. She then asked if he would prefer to push Rose or carry the baby, and he immediately stooped and picked up his daughter's carrier. The nurse smiled and pushed Rose’s chair. 

Jackie and the Doctor continued to sass back and forth as they traveled the hospital halls, down to the ground floor, and out to the car park.

The car, Rose found... to be a little 'on the nose' for this bizarre mirror world she was in.

A navy blue Land Rover Defender sat in the lot, with white, thin pinstripe detailing on the doors and hood of the very boxy vehicle. A TARDIS in car form if there ever was one. Jackie waited with Rose while the Doctor and the nurse who escorted them out carefully loaded the baby inside. Then together they helped Rose into the car.

Jackie kissed her on the forehead and told her she'd come 'round the next day when she'd had time to settle and rest, told her to call if she needed anything at all- then she left Rose on her own.

Part of her felt like maybe she should be afraid. This Doctor wasn't her Doctor. He couldn't be- her Doctor, a man with a family SUV and a baby and…

None of it made sense. Domestics sent him running.

Rose's face was hard, her eyes forward when the Doctor finished loading their bags in the back and took his place in the driver's seat.

"Penny for 'em?" He said softly, speaking to her as if his voice alone could break her.

Rose wasn't sure what to say.

She'd been to enough places and into enough bizarre situations with the Doctor to know she shouldn't go spouting off about space or bigger-on-the-inside boxes. Not about two-hearted men from Gallifrey nor time travel.

So she shrugged.

"I don't know what t' say." She mumbled.

The Doctor hesitated for a moment, then he slowly, gingerly reached over and took one of her hands from her lap and held it his- and Rose felt it.

The connection. The spark.

The feeling her hand in his gave her since he took her hand the very first time and told her to 'run'.

"I want t’ remember." She said finally, her sad brown eyes meeting his compassionate and worried sky blue.

"You will." He promised, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles. "You remember me. Jus'-"

"Not her." Rose finished, her voice breaking. "I don'-" She paused, tears pushing hard at her eyes, a few breaking free and rolling down her cheeks. "I don' remember much past our first couple kisses, if 'm honest."

The Doctor nodded, and he put another soft kiss to the back of her hand before he laid it back in her lap and adjusted himself to crank the car.

"Wanna see if bein' home helps?" He asked, hand on the gearshift.

"Can't hurt." Rose agreed.

As they drove, Rose began to catalog things that made no sense.

A baby- who had to have been a surprise because neither of them wore a ring, her hospital bracelet had her name as 'Tyler' but the baby's as 'Foreman'.

There had been a wreck- or so they claimed- though she had some injuries to support the claim, as did the Doctor. A few cuts on his face, some hidden by the scruffy Start to a beard he was sporting. His lip was split but scabbed. 

Odd, considering how fast his Gallifreyan healing factor was. 

Her mum seemed to almost want to tell her something- and she squabbled and contradicted the Doctor at every turn- about triple her normal average with him.

Something was amiss. More than that.

Something was wrong .

She had no indication how long she was supposed to have known this Doctor. How long they'd been together like this. Where they lived. What either of them did for a living.

It had to be something decent, judging by the car alone. 

Her head began to hurt- almost to burn when she tried to remember, and she hissed in pain, a blinding white light flashing in her mind’s eye when she tried to recall anything. 

"Alright, Love?" The Doctor asked, looking over concerned. "Need me t' stop?"

"Nah, jus' headache still." She promised, her curiosity about the 'home' they were headed to piquing as they got closer. "I'm good, I promise."

They rode in almost comfortable silence for a while, the soft but slightly squeaky breathing of newborn Dorothy behind her reminding Rose of just how different everything was.

Then he turned off the main road to a somewhat secluded driveway. It wound up a hill a bit, then came to a clearing.

The house was gorgeous .

Not huge, but a bigger house that Rose had ever even imagined herself living in- four or five bedrooms if she had to guess. Brick, old build- definitely from before the war but had taken some damage because one wall had brick of a slightly different color.

There was a somewhat wild garden- though it was clear an attempt had been made to tame it- wildflowers and vines had won the battle.

And the front door- Rose's favorite part- put a smile on her face.

The door was navy blue.

They'd been at what the Doctor had called 'home' for over an hour.

Rose found that her favorite overstuffed chair from the TARDIS library was, somehow, in the sitting room of this brick home- but as her body was sore and her mind tired, she didn't question it. She simply folded herself into the familiar comfort and tried to catalog her surroundings.

There were many things in the unfamiliar house that she recognized from the TARDIS.

Including a couple of pictures of her and the Doctor that she had stuck to the mirror in her room aboard the ship. Here, they were larger, clearer, and framed- but still the same.

The Doctor had settled her down and asked if she needed anything, then ducked out to the 'nursery' to settle the baby in.

Rose had expected him to come back by now- she'd spent the entire time thinking of questions to ask and how to ask them, in case she was in some sort of alternate reality or trap of some sort. It wouldn't be her first time in a psychic prison, after all, but it would be her most confusing.

And elaborate.

And personal.

Rose had never allowed herself to admit how in love with the Doctor she was. That while all of time and space was amazing, more than she could've imagined- a life with him was a fantasy she kept in the most secret of her heart.

Traveling with him- holding his hand- it was enough. 

He was her best mate, after all, and he was THE Doctor . Too good for an Estate-raised shop girl like herself by far. And such things were too domestic for him.

Sure, things had started to shift. A couple kisses. Great kisses. Fantastic ones. But... Nothing more .

As the minutes continued to tick by, as marked by a large grandfather clock in the corner- another piece from the TARDIS library- curiosity got the better of her, and Rose carefully pulled herself up onto her feet, careful to move so that she didn't hurt her incision site.

She gingerly made her way through the first floor of the house, until she heard the creak of a rocking chair moving slowly, and she followed the sound.

The Doctor was inside a pastel green room, adorned with little grey and white rabbits and soft linens. He sat in the rocking chair, the back of which was facing the door, so that they faced the window- the baby swaddled in his arms. Rose stood still for a moment, braced on the doorway.

She felt the tears drop to her shirt before she knew she was crying- or why.

She took a hesitant step inside and the tears fell faster when she realized the Doctor was singing .

Rose listened for a moment, then the song ended and the Doctor hummed for a few moments, before the baby's fussing turned to quiet cooing.

"I know, my little star," He said softly, "I miss mummy, too. But she'll be right- don' you worry. Daddy has you both, I promise, Dottie-Dot. Cross both m' hearts."

Rose's eyes widened and she swallowed a gasp as she stumbled backward- attempting to retreat from the room, but she knocked into the changing table and a music box sitting on the second shelf played a few notes- causing the Doctor to turn and see her panicked face.

"Rose!" He gasped, seeing how she was clutching her abdomen in pain from knocking into the furnishings. He was on his feet and at her side in an instant, their daughter tucked easily into one arm, the other ahold of her. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'm fine." She nodded. "Jus' tripped up."

She let go of his hand and straightened her loose sun dress out, her eyes falling back to the little girl who was staring back at her.

"Rose?" The Doctor called softly after a moment, "Why don' you sit down an' hold her?"

"I-"

She hesitated, her head swimming. She wanted more than anything to hold the child. But she kept telling herself- even if she heard the Doctor correctly when he referenced 'both hearts'- she was not the right Rose.

Though- she was a Rose. And for the moment, she was the Rose that was present .

And Dorothy... 'Dottie' she heard both her mum and the Doctor call her- she needed her mum.

Until things were set right- until the right Rose was back with the right Doctor- Dottie needed a mum. And it was something Rose could do for her.

After a long moment of thought- she looked up and met the Doctor's eyes.

"Yes." She nodded, though the hesitancy was still heavy in her heart. "I- I'd like that."

He helped her ease down into the rocker and then he laid Dorothy into Rose's arms. She cradled the tiny form close, her heart both so heavy and so, so light. The baby's skin was warm and soft against hers, so fragile, like a small promise she had been waiting for her whole life and she didn't even know it. She gazed down at her little face, the small, perfect features that were already so familiar on someone who should've been a tiny stranger.

Her fingers traced the soft curve of the baby's cheek, marveling at how something so small could hold so much of her heart in such an instant. There was a weight in her chest, but it wasn't from sadness as she'd expected- It was the weight of love, the kind that felt like it could lift her off the ground and carry her to the stars faster than the TARDIS. Rose pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, a soft, lingering touch, as though imprinting her love into the very fibers of the child's skin.

It was too late. She was already in love.

Yet there was something more .

In her gut, in her core, instinct flickered to life. Her body seemed to remember a time when the child was housed inside her womb, recognized her in a way Rose couldn't comprehend.

The Doctor watched Rose, watched how the connection that he knew was there sparked back to life, and both hearts swelled until he felt like his chest may explode.

"See there?" He said gently, stroking Rose's cheek with his knuckles, "You've got it."

Rose looked up and her emotions- her love bubbled over.

"She's so perfect." She croaked, her voice hoarse and tears rolling.

"Gets that from you." He smiled softly.

Rose sat with the child for at least half an hour- the Doctor, who seemed to sense her fear, had settled back onto the ottoman next to her, ready if she was to need help. Rose found herself humming before she knew what was happening- and she stopped- mid-rock and mid-note.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, love?" He asked, so soft and gentle it was almost alarming.

"Am I gonna be alright?"

There was a raw terror under her words, and the Doctor moved to kneel at her feet, his hands on the arms of the chair on either said of her.

Bracing her. Protecting her. 

"Of course." He promised. "I've got you- both of you."

Chapter Text

Rose stirred, slowly waking from a deep, unfamiliar kind of sleep. The bed felt too soft, too still, the room too quiet. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. Her mind flitted between the immediate past and something distant, something lost. It wasn’t the usual rush of being on the move, the hum of the TARDIS as it galloped through time and space, or the cool metal and living coral of the Doctor’s ship surrounding her.

Instead, she lay here in this bed, next to a man who looked like the Doctor- broad shoulders, beautiful sky-blue eyes, dark close-cropped hair- though it was due a trim- sharp Northern accent… but something felt off. Her mind whispered a warning she couldn’t quite name.

She blinked, letting the morning light filter through the curtains. The warmth of the sun on her face was a comfort, but it didn’t settle the gnawing discomfort in her stomach. The Doctor- her Doctor- had never been the type to settle down, never the type to be content with stillness. And yet here he supposedly was, beside her, calm and unruffled as he slept.

Actually slept. Something that had seemed almost rare before. 

Rose shifted carefully, testing the quiet. She didn’t want to wake him, but she needed to breathe. She needed space to think. 

She loved the Doctor- would always love him- but this life didn’t feel real. Not in the way their old life had. Not with stars and monsters and running until they couldn’t anymore- the life filled with all the impossible things that had been fantasy until he saved her that March evening.

She turned her head and looked down at the small bundle nestled in the bassinet beside the bed.

Dottie.

Their baby- or so he and her mother said she was. So the ache and pulls in her skin agreed. 

Her heart ached with love and confusion all at once. Dorothy Foreman, little Dottie, was hers.

There was no mistaking the way the baby curled her fingers when Rose reached in, or the way her little mouth quirked like the Doctor’s when she dreamed. She was real. This part was real. Rose knew that in her bones. But everything around it felt like it had been painted over- smoothed too neat, too safe.

The Doctor’s hand twitched near hers, and she startled. He was waking up. Rose got up quickly, quietly, tugging a dressing gown around herself as she padded into the hall.

The house was warm and still. She passed photos on the wall- pictures of her and the Doctor smiling, even a couple of her visibly pregnant, like a maternity shoot- others so normal it was startling, like one sitting on a bench in what looked like Hyde Park. Others were simple snapshots- soft and candid. Yet she didn’t remember them. Didn’t remember the moments themselves.

Rose ducked into the study and closed the door behind her. It was darker, even with the morning sun trying to peek through the thick curtains. Rose looked around- more pictures- but also more things she swears were scattered about in the TARDIS.

She moved slowly, her hand lightly touching a few of the things along the shelves.

There were books in multiple languages. Some looked older than her, some older than him.

Other things, too. An odd metal orb held down a stack of old newspapers on top of one shelf, with what looked like distant constellations carved into it. There were pieces of what Rose assumed had once been parts of whole, working machines scattered here and there. Framed insects. A small, copper looking wind-up robot toy.

The sound of the Doctor’s footfalls outside caused Rose to jump, and she stepped away from the shelf like a child caught sneaking sweets- but he walked past and left the door shut. Still, heart racing, Rose waited a moment before following him down to the kitchen.

Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like a mix of the same lemon cleaner her mother had used her whole life and stale tea. She stopped in the doorway. He was already there, his back to her, dressed in jeans and a worn black jumper, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he stirred something in a pan. She swallowed hard.

"Mornin’," he said, not turning around. His voice was soft, familiar, and still somehow wrong.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. "Mornin’."

He turned then, smiling at her. Not his usual grin- no wild-eyed mania, no spark of trouble. Just something calm. Domestic. That was the word. This whole place, this whole life, was domestic.

Which is why this couldn’t be her Doctor.

"Want some tea? Breakfast's nearly done." He gestured toward the counter.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Thanks."

He moved with confidence, like this was all normal. Like he'd always lived here. Like they'd always lived here. She lowered herself onto a kitchen stool, watching him with growing unease.

"D-," she said suddenly, and then hesitated. Her hands clenched in her lap. "John..."

The silence that followed was brief, but electric.

He didn’t freeze completely- but his shoulders stiffened, just for a second. Then he looked at her over his shoulder, the smile still on his lips.

"Yeah love?"

She forced a smile. "Nothin’. Just wanted to see if you'd answer to it."

"Well," he said, turning back to the stove, "’s my name, innit? John Foreman. Not that you’ve used it much since y’ woke up at the hospital."

Her heart thudded in her chest. He hadn’t flinched. He hadn’t corrected her. But he’d stiffened. Just enough for her to notice.

"Right," she murmured. “I jus’-”

She looked down at her hands, then around the kitchen again. That was when she saw it- a mug from the TARDIS galley, pale blue with faded stars, the handle cracked. A piece of coral resting on the window ledge like a decoration. A worn brown leather-bound book she recognized from the console room.

Her breath caught.

They were pieces of home. Of her real life- their real life.

But they didn’t belong in an earth kitchen.

He set her plate down in front of her- a perfect fried egg, toast, and a few roasted tomatoes. It smelled like comfort. It felt like a lie.

"How’s Dottie?" he asked, casual, sitting across from her with his own plate.

"She’s good," Rose said automatically. "Still sleepin’."

"She takes after you with that."

Rose looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

He grinned. "Could sleep through a hurricane."

She tried to smile, but the unease lingered.

Everything was just slightly too smooth. Slightly too practiced. As if they were playing house, and he knew all his lines. But she didn’t remember rehearsing any of this.

She didn’t remember how she got here.

And her Doctor? He would never let her forget the stars. Hell- Rose doubted anything could ever make him leave the stars.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Rose padded quietly into the bedroom she still hadn’t decided to call hers. The day was spent with ‘her’ daughter, but Rose had enjoyed every confusing second of it. Now in the evening, Dottie’s soft mewls echoed faintly from the living room where the Doctor was keeping her occupied with rhythmic shushing and exaggerated vowel sounds that mimicked speech. Rose smiled faintly at the sound, then continued about her mission.

She crossed the room to the dresser and pulled open the jewelry box she barely remembered owning. It sat like it had always belonged there- soft grey velvet lining, a tiny crack down the hinge like it had been dropped years ago. She brushed her fingers over it before lifting the lid.

Her breath hitched. Nestled between the tangle of necklaces and a silver ring she hadn’t worn in ages was a blackened, chipped piece of metal. The TARDIS key.

Not a replica. Her key.

She picked it up slowly, like it might disintegrate. The edges were melted slightly, curled in as if it had been through fire. The circular top was still whole, but the familiar blue sheen had long since dulled as if smeared with ash. She turned it over in her hand, the ridges and grooves digging into her palm.

She couldn’t remember how it had ended up like this. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen it. The last real memory she had with the TARDIS was…

Her mind skittered sideways, like hitting static on a radio. Why couldn’t she remember the last time she’d been on the ship?

She slipped the key into the pocket of her dressing gown, then shut the box.

She spent the rest of the evening trying to pretend she wasn’t thinking about it.

The Doctor had cooked- another meal of actual cooking, not just toast and jam or warmed up, pre-prepared dishes. He’d set the table, poured her a glass of water without asking, dropped in a lemon wedge, and talked about his work in the garden like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they hadn’t once run for their lives across the surface of a planet about to be devoured by a dying star. Like he’d never told her domestic was a dirty word.

He looked so at ease. Comfortable in this life. Happy.

He looked happy.

She watched him from across the table, searching for signs. Tension in the jaw. Distance in the eyes. A crack in the surface. Anything to make this feel wrong enough to explain the knot in her gut.

Nothing could be found.

She smiled when she should. Laughed softly when Dottie’s tiny arms flailed against the air between bottle feeds. Let him kiss her on the cheek and brush his fingers along her back when she passed.

And still-

It was every single thing she could’ve ever dreamed of. The stuff she’d day dreamed about when she’d finally decided to grow up, to try and make something of herself- right before she’d met him.

A life and a home and a family with the man she loved more than the very air in her lungs.

But it was all wrong.

After dinner, she showered. Let the water run too hot until her skin turned pink, until the fog on the mirror was thick enough to hide herself. She toweled off in silence, careful with her incision, then she tugged on her robe, and padded barefoot back into the bedroom.

Her plan had been to grab her pajamas and get into bed before the Doctor finished walking the hallway with Dottie nestled against his shoulder, murmuring some tale about star whales and nursery moons like Rose couldn’t hear him speaking of that life to the tiny baby. Avoid conversation. Avoid him . Pretend to be asleep when he came in.

But as she slid the wardrobe open, something clinked softly from the top shelf.

She frowned and reached up.

There, behind a folded jumper and an old hot water bottle, was a small music box.

It was deep red, lacquered wood with gold trim. She didn’t recognize it, but it sent a chill down her spine. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened it.

A lullaby played.

Slow, lilting. Familiar.

Her chest tightened.

She knew this song.

Not from childhood. Not from Earth.

She’d heard this inside the TARDIS. Once. Late at night when she couldn’t sleep, he pulled out something he called a Gallifreyan dream-spinner. It played that same tune and told stories through the walls.

The music box had Gallifreyan and English etched into the underside.

Her fingers trembled as she turned it over.

"FOR R. T. LOVE YOU – D. "

She closed the lid.

The tune kept playing for another few seconds before falling into silence.

Rose sat frozen.

That wasn’t just a music box.

It was yet another piece of a puzzle with no guide.

She felt the weight of the charred key in her robe pocket and pulled it out. Held it in one hand, the music box in the other.

Some part of her had wanted to believe she’d slipped into someone else’s life. Another Rose Tyler. One who’d lived and settled and loved in ways she hadn’t.

But now-

Now it felt like maybe she was still her , and something else was wrong.

Why can’t I remember?

She didn’t hear the footsteps until the door creaked open.

The Doctor leaned against the frame, arms crossed casually.

“Dottie’s out- laid her in the bouncer... Bit of a wriggler, that one. Did you want t’ watch that film I was talkin’ about or-”

Rose looked up slowly. “Where’d this come from?” She asked, her voice tight. 

He glanced at the music box. His smile faltered for the briefest second.

“You always loved it,” he said gently. “Found it at an antiques shop, had it engraved for you.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“It’s been a long few weeks. Memory’ll come back.” He shrugged, trying for casual- a swing and a miss. She watched him- the way his eyes didn’t quite meet hers.

Then, slowly, she asked, “John?”

He stiffened- just for a second- just like before. Then he smiled again, like nothing happened.

“Mm?”

Rose set the music box aside and stood. She shoved the hand with the TARDIS key in her pocket and let it go, tucked safely away but close enough that she could feel it there with her. She crossed over to the doorway where he stood, still waiting on her to tell him what it was she needed.

“A film would be nice, yeah?” She said finally- and the smile he gave her was almost the right one. He slipped her hand into his and together they made their way back down to the den where Dottie was still sound asleep in her soft purple bouncer. He sat on the couch first and Rose let him pull her down right beside him, snuggled in close to his side.

She fell asleep against his shoulder.

The next morning passed quietly. No ghost memories, no mysterious objects tucked into strange corners- not that she had an opportunity to search- just sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains, warm tea in her hands, and the faint hum of the baby monitor.

Rose sat on the couch with Dottie tucked into the crook of her arm, nose scrunched, half-asleep. The Doctor- John, she reminded herself- was in the kitchen humming something low and rhythmic as he scrubbed out the inside of the kettle. Not a single alien alert. No vortex indicator beeping from a coat pocket. Just… domestic peace.

It made her skin itch.

By the time Jackie arrived, arms full of shopping bags and breathless as always, Rose was already on edge.

“Here we are!” Jackie called out as she swept through the front door without knocking. “Traffic’s a nightmare, an’ don’t get me started on your Uncle Mervin’s hip again, he’s like a broken record, that one.”

She didn’t look any different. Same chunky blonde highlights, same overpowering perfume, same voice pitched just a bit too high when she spotted her granddaughter.

“There’s my little puddin’!” Jackie cooed, dropping one of the bags to reach for Dottie.

Rose shifted automatically, shielding the baby without thinking.

Jackie raised a brow but said nothing, instead pulling out a frilly pink dress from one of the bags. It was practically doll-sized, all satin and tulle, and yet still far too big.

“Look at this!” Jackie beamed. “Twelve to eighteen months, but she’ll grow into it. I saw it and thought t’ myself- well, someone’s got t’ get this girl started early.”

“She was born eight days ago.” Rose blinked.

“Oh, don’t be borin’,” Jackie waved her off, then turned to John with a grin. “You tell her, Johnny. Babies grow like weeds.”

The Doctor chuckled as he dried his hands on a towel. “She’ll be fittin’ in it in no time. Probably struttin’ around like she owns the planet.”

“You mean like her mum used to?” Jackie shot back, and they both laughed.

Rose watched them from the sofa.

Laughing.

Joking.

Getting on.

But that wasn’t right. Jackie hadn’t liked him- seen it only yesterday. She remembered that very vividly. Her mum had never trusted the Doctor- had ranted about his moods, his madness, his tendency to inadvertently put Rose in danger. There’d been shouting. A solid slap. Tears were shed. Cold silences that lasted for days came and went. 

This wasn’t that at all. This was… a decent mother-in-law and son-in-law sort of relationship. Not close, but friendly. 

Rose said nothing.

Just curled Dottie closer to her chest and stared down at her tiny, perfect face.

So new. So fragile. So entirely hers, even if nothing else was.

Rose fed her while they talked, tuning them out, letting their voices drift into meaningless background noise. She focused on the warmth of the baby, the soft little mouth rooting to her breast instinctively, the way Dottie’s fingers curled tightly around the edge of her dressing gown.

There was something grounding about it. Something ancient and unshakable. Like no matter where she was- whatever reality this turned out to be- this bit was true.

Dottie was hers. Her little heartbeat. Her reason.

And the more she rocked her, the more she cradled that warm, trusting weight in her arms, the harder it became to hold herself at a distance. To pretend she could stay suspicious forever. To act like this wasn’t her life.

Because somehow, impossibly, it felt like it was.

Even if everything around her still whispered that it wasn’t.

Jackie’s visit had been longer than expected. So by the time supper was over Rose felt absolutely exhausted and Jackie insisted she’d help her get ready for bed if the Doctor took the baby. 

The entire time she wanted so badly to demand answers- to the point that it took over her body, leaving her no choice but to find some way to try and get some clues.

Rose’s hand stopped the door just before it closed. She felt a sudden, unavoidable need to ask, to test Jackie one last time.

“Mum?”

“What is it, love?” Jackie turned with a soft smile, clearly ready to head out.

“Mum, about that time… when I was gone.” Rose hesitated, her eyes flicking to the floor for a moment before she found her voice and chose her words. “When the Doctor thought he’d only been gone twelve hours, but it was actually a year?”

Jackie froze for a moment, her expression tightening before she forced a casual smile.

“What d’you mean, Rose? You were never gone for a year.”

“But… you remember. The Doctor thought-” Rose blinked as she tried to make it make sense. She wasn’t sure she’d heard her mother right. 

Jackie shook her head, cutting her off with an overly cheerful laugh.

“Rose, love, I think your head’s still a bit fuzzy. What you’re talkin’ about doesn’t sound right.” She stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Rose’s arm. “When you met John , you two went off on that lovely, long vacation. Remember? Just the two of you, off t’ mainland Europe for a few weeks. You never told me about the exact details, but it was a bit of a mystery, wasn’t it? Won’t lie, scared me t’ death, until you called me. Runnin’ off with a man you just met…”

Rose’s heart lurched, and she tried to focus on the words, but they felt like they were slipping through her fingers. “But, Mum…”

“No, no.” Jackie gave her a firm, reassuring look. “I know you were away for a while. But it was nothin’ more than a holiday. Maybe you’re just mixin' things up. It’s been a lot lately, hasn’t it? The accident, the baby… it’s been a bit much.”

Rose felt a heavy silence fall between them. Jackie was smiling at her, but Rose could see it now… the unease behind her mum’s eyes. She was covering up something, hiding something that didn’t fit.

Rose’s mind raced. The lies. They were covering up the alien side of things, time travel, everything. They were rewriting the past in a way that would make it more “normal,” more believable. She couldn’t let it go, but it wasn’t like she could ask Jackie to admit it, either.

Rose tried to steady her voice, but it was shaky. “But the Doctor… he didn’t just take me on a vacation, Mum. He-”

“Stop, Rose.” Jackie’s tone was firmer now, almost stern, a hint of worry in her eyes. “You’re just confused. The last time you went off, it was jus‘ a trip. Nothin’ strange, nothin’ weird. You’ve been back now, and everything’s fine. Let it go. I know that injury scrambled you a bit, yeah? But these delusions… ‘s not healthy, love…”

Rose opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find the words. It was like Jackie wasn’t even speaking the same language. The disconnect was too much, too sudden. Something had shifted in their world, and Rose wasn’t sure how to make sense of it.

Jackie gave her a light pat on the arm before pulling away, clearly eager to leave. “You’re lookin’ a might tired, sweetheart. Go on an’ rest.” She nodded toward the bed. “We’ll catch up again soon. Don’t worry another thing about it about it.”

And then, as if nothing had happened, Jackie smiled brightly and walked out of the room.

Rose stood still in the hallway, her fingers tightening around the TARDIS key in her robe pocket. The room felt too small now, the walls closing in, and everything about it felt wrong. Every piece of it.

She wasn’t losing her mind. She wasn’t .

But the lie that Jackie had told her- that everything was normal, that her year of absence had been “just a holiday”- was a cover-up. A deliberate one.

Worse. An obvious one. 

Rose’s chest tightened as the truth settled in. This wasn’t her reality. This wasn’t the life she remembered.

And now, she had to figure out how to break through the lies.