Meaning and Memory (3/4)
TITLE: Meaning and Memory
PAIRING: Alt!Ten/Rose, I swear! Just trust me on this.
RATING: R for some swearing, sexual themes and just general messed-up-ness
SPOILERS: Does it need saying?
SUMMARY: Alt!Ten hits a rough patch. What's it like to have someone else's memories?
A/N: This is one of those fics where Alt!Ten and Rose get all dysfunctional.
Rose straightened her jacket and brushed a bit of lint off her pant leg. "I'd like you to come in to Torchwood," she said in a businesslike tone that was odds with the look in her eye. "I think something's gone wrong, I think we should run some scans."
The Doctor placed his glass on the coffee-table with a clink and grabbed Rose's arm, quite roughly, and for the first time in weeks, if not months, looked her dead in the eye with all of his internal windows wide open. "No."
She removed his hand from her arm and he did not resist. "But I think if we can just--"
"I said no." He was steely, cold, like he had perhaps stopped even trying to put up the facade of normalcy, of being the same man with the same thoughts and the same memories as the other Doctor. "There's nothing wrong. Or rather, everything's wrong but you can't fix it. You can't fix me."
She turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tear fall. "But he said...." She couldn't complete the thought, and he was there at the time, anyway.
"He said that I needed you, that you would make me better, but he doesn't know everything. He's not God." He spat the last few words out and made no effort to conceal his contempt. "Look at me." He reached out and Rose braced herself to be handled roughly again, but his touch was light as he placed a hand under her chin and turned her head towards him. "What do you see when you look at me?"
It took her a moment to compose herself. Things has been a little strange when they first arrived back in this universe together, but they'd never really had a serious discussion of this sort before.
"I just see you: the Doctor. My Doctor."
"And who am I?" To Rose, the question sounded a bit more than rhetorical.
"You don't know," she ventured. "Is that what's wrong? If you don't know who you are, I guess I can understand that. But you can talk to me about it, let me know you're having a hard time." She felt relief spread through her limbs. She was surprised it had taken him this long to begin to feel this way and it made perfect sense. As a clone, he'd naturally be confused about his identity, and in a newly human body, that had to be a whole other level of distress on top of it. She could definitely handle this problem, help him get to know himself a bit better, give him the space to do so. Maybe he'd fancy a nice holiday. She smiled up at him. He did not return it.
"I don't know who you are either. I don't love you."
Her face fell, her vision began to get fuzzy around the edges, a buzzing started in her ears.
"I don't love you," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I know this must hurt you and I don't want that, you seem like a good person, but I don't really know who you are and I don't love you and I'd just hurt you more if I kept on lying."
Three times now he'd said it. That was two more times than he'd said the reverse that day on the beach. Three minus one is two, two hearts, the proper Doctor, the old Doctor, the one who'd been so sure this would all work out so splendidly. Her thoughts were a whirl of the nonsensical and the desperate. She was losing him again. Three minus one is two, two times she'd lost him before, plus one now is three. Three hearts, hers plus her old Doctor. One, two, three. She just stared at him blankly while a supernova of grief exploded behind her eyes. She had to act, she felt like an animal in a cage, casting about for anything that might effect her release.
She moved with unnatural swiftness born of panic, grabbed his lapels and forced his mouth down to hers, allowing him to taste the salt of her tears, the honey of her mouth, daring him to let this go. She moved her mouth over his, sucking at his bottom lip, using her tongue to prise his open, and after a shocked moment, he did kiss her back and she felt another hot wave of relief. Bringing her hands up to his neck she ran them through the short hair at the back of his neck, over his ears, down his jawline, forgiving him for every wrong.
"What is this, Doctor?" she whispered against his cheek.
He looked at her then closed his eyes again, moved back a few inches and out of her grasp. "Lust." He took her hands in his, moved them back down to her lap. "I'm a human being. Maybe the cleverest human on the planet, but I'm just a bloke. He may have been able to resist you for all that time, but I'm not quite made of the same stuff. I don't have centuries to live, I can't cheat death, I don't have the fate of all creation resting on my shoulders. Everything is different."
Rose was speechless. How many worst days of her life was she going to have in the space of four years? It was too much. She sank off the couch on to the floor, brought her knees up to her chest, buried her head in them. She didn't care that she was red and blotchy from stifled sobs or that her hair hung tangled and limp around her face, or that she was in a world with zeppelins instead of airplanes, where her father still lived but was not her father.
It was all she could do to just choke out, "Why?" as the Doctor remained seated on the sofa, looking miserable, tugging at his hair in a tic that was an exact mimic of that other man.
"I'm sorry, I guess I owe you an explanation at least. Can I get you a glass of water or...something?" He stood and turned around in place helplessly, looking for something to give her that would make her stop sobbing. She shook her head and looked up at him with a gaze so hopeless and wild he couldn't help but feel something. Empathy for the suffering of another being. Guilt for being the one who caused it. He crouched down next to her on the floor, intending to comfort her, but she just hit him, hard, on the shoulder. He took the blow, without swearing or even saying, "Ow."
"That's okay," he said meekly, though she'd never implied in any way that it wasn't. In fact, she looked like she might do it again, so he moved away to a safe distance and sat on the floor across from her. She remained in the same shrunken position, not looking at him, arms now crossed over the back of her neck, sniffling every few seconds.
"I told you, I'm never gonna leave you," she said in to her knees, her voice thick and cracking.
"You told him that. I'm not him, and you said right at the start that you knew that." He tried to keep his voice low, patient, understanding but he couldn't keep an edge of bitterness out of it.
"And you told me that you loved me."
"I did, in that moment. My only lies to you have been ones of omission, and I'm so sorry for that. I should have told you when the feelings started to fade, but I kept hoping they'd come back and then it was too late." He waited for a reply but there was none beyond more sniffling. "The other Doctor's memories, I have them, but that's all I have. Just the images, just the facts. The feelings are gone. They don't mean anything to me anymore. It's like I read about you in a book and that's the only way I know you. He loved you very much, because he had the memories of how you made him feel. I don't."
She looked up at him, her face a wreck, make-up smudged, eyes red and glassy. "But we've known each other for months now. How do I make you feel?"
"Sad."
"Makes two of us, " she grimaced in what might have been a weak smile and a little snort of a bitter laugh.
"Not just sad. You're my friend, though I could understand if you don't consider me much of one. I feel a certain fondness for you. But it's like we got tossed in to this arranged marriage and you, and everyone else, just assumed we'd known each other for years already. When I look at you, all I'm reminded of is how much I don't feel. I wanted to try though and I'm afraid I've bollocksed it up quite royally."
"That you have." She was regaining control of her breathing, for the time being. Sorrow this strong tends to come in waves, lest a person literally die of grief. "So, how long, since...you know."
"Far too long. I don't know...a while. A long time. I think if you're honest you'll have the answer yourself."
She felt ill. All of that aggressive lovemaking, it wasn't lovemaking at all. It was just sex, just fucking, to try to make himself feel something. The heat of anger began to rise in her again and she scanned the room quickly to take stock of what she could throw that would hurt the most. "Oh, god."
"I know. I might not know who I am but I do know I'm not very nice." He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
"So...." She took a long, deep, shuddering breath. "Where do we go from here?"
He drew his mouth in to a straight line for a moment. "I expect you'll walk out on me, probably after you throw something or hit me again, and slam the door hard enough I'll have to apologize to the neighbors in the morning. I'll feel like rubbish for a long time, and I'll pick up the phone to ring you and apologize a dozen times a day, but I won't." He lifted an eyebrow and invited her to add more to the list.
"No, I think you're wrong."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"The Doctor, the other Doctor, I made a promise to him that I'd make you better. I might hate you--which, by the way, I don't even now--but I'll always love him and I've always kept my promises to him. Look that up in your little memory banks and you'll see. Rose Tyler always keeps her promises to the Doctor." She stood and walked to the kitchen, leaving him alone on the floor. He could hear the sound of water running for a good long while, and he sat alone with his thoughts and the other man's memories. It was true, Rose had done some fairly ridiculous things in order to keep her promise to the Doctor that she'd never leave him. For one thing, she'd left her family and friends multiple times, left them even as they pleaded for her not to go. That was downright cold of her, even selfish. But he was coming to understand that human love was like that.
She came back in to the room holding a tea towel and dabbing at her eyes. "'S like this, yeah? We're both going to forget we ever knew each other. Mum always used to tell me, if you love something, set it free. I'm setting you free." She caught the look in his eye. "You're so bloody not like him. I don't need another him in my life, one was enough. More than enough." She stood over him now, and he suddenly felt very tiny indeed. "In fact, see that sofa? I'm sleeping right there tonight because you are not going to be left alone until I'm sure of some things. But after that, you and me, we're starting over. From the beginning. And if we fall in love...well, let's just start at the beginning first and we'll see."
"We never had a beginning," he said weakly.
"We will now. And you can make up your mind about how I make you feel, Doctor." She smiled an exhausted, weak, very tiny little smile. "No pressure, mind."
PAIRING: Alt!Ten/Rose, I swear! Just trust me on this.
RATING: R for some swearing, sexual themes and just general messed-up-ness
SPOILERS: Does it need saying?
SUMMARY: Alt!Ten hits a rough patch. What's it like to have someone else's memories?
A/N: This is one of those fics where Alt!Ten and Rose get all dysfunctional.
Rose straightened her jacket and brushed a bit of lint off her pant leg. "I'd like you to come in to Torchwood," she said in a businesslike tone that was odds with the look in her eye. "I think something's gone wrong, I think we should run some scans."
The Doctor placed his glass on the coffee-table with a clink and grabbed Rose's arm, quite roughly, and for the first time in weeks, if not months, looked her dead in the eye with all of his internal windows wide open. "No."
She removed his hand from her arm and he did not resist. "But I think if we can just--"
"I said no." He was steely, cold, like he had perhaps stopped even trying to put up the facade of normalcy, of being the same man with the same thoughts and the same memories as the other Doctor. "There's nothing wrong. Or rather, everything's wrong but you can't fix it. You can't fix me."
She turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tear fall. "But he said...." She couldn't complete the thought, and he was there at the time, anyway.
"He said that I needed you, that you would make me better, but he doesn't know everything. He's not God." He spat the last few words out and made no effort to conceal his contempt. "Look at me." He reached out and Rose braced herself to be handled roughly again, but his touch was light as he placed a hand under her chin and turned her head towards him. "What do you see when you look at me?"
It took her a moment to compose herself. Things has been a little strange when they first arrived back in this universe together, but they'd never really had a serious discussion of this sort before.
"I just see you: the Doctor. My Doctor."
"And who am I?" To Rose, the question sounded a bit more than rhetorical.
"You don't know," she ventured. "Is that what's wrong? If you don't know who you are, I guess I can understand that. But you can talk to me about it, let me know you're having a hard time." She felt relief spread through her limbs. She was surprised it had taken him this long to begin to feel this way and it made perfect sense. As a clone, he'd naturally be confused about his identity, and in a newly human body, that had to be a whole other level of distress on top of it. She could definitely handle this problem, help him get to know himself a bit better, give him the space to do so. Maybe he'd fancy a nice holiday. She smiled up at him. He did not return it.
"I don't know who you are either. I don't love you."
Her face fell, her vision began to get fuzzy around the edges, a buzzing started in her ears.
"I don't love you," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I know this must hurt you and I don't want that, you seem like a good person, but I don't really know who you are and I don't love you and I'd just hurt you more if I kept on lying."
Three times now he'd said it. That was two more times than he'd said the reverse that day on the beach. Three minus one is two, two hearts, the proper Doctor, the old Doctor, the one who'd been so sure this would all work out so splendidly. Her thoughts were a whirl of the nonsensical and the desperate. She was losing him again. Three minus one is two, two times she'd lost him before, plus one now is three. Three hearts, hers plus her old Doctor. One, two, three. She just stared at him blankly while a supernova of grief exploded behind her eyes. She had to act, she felt like an animal in a cage, casting about for anything that might effect her release.
She moved with unnatural swiftness born of panic, grabbed his lapels and forced his mouth down to hers, allowing him to taste the salt of her tears, the honey of her mouth, daring him to let this go. She moved her mouth over his, sucking at his bottom lip, using her tongue to prise his open, and after a shocked moment, he did kiss her back and she felt another hot wave of relief. Bringing her hands up to his neck she ran them through the short hair at the back of his neck, over his ears, down his jawline, forgiving him for every wrong.
"What is this, Doctor?" she whispered against his cheek.
He looked at her then closed his eyes again, moved back a few inches and out of her grasp. "Lust." He took her hands in his, moved them back down to her lap. "I'm a human being. Maybe the cleverest human on the planet, but I'm just a bloke. He may have been able to resist you for all that time, but I'm not quite made of the same stuff. I don't have centuries to live, I can't cheat death, I don't have the fate of all creation resting on my shoulders. Everything is different."
Rose was speechless. How many worst days of her life was she going to have in the space of four years? It was too much. She sank off the couch on to the floor, brought her knees up to her chest, buried her head in them. She didn't care that she was red and blotchy from stifled sobs or that her hair hung tangled and limp around her face, or that she was in a world with zeppelins instead of airplanes, where her father still lived but was not her father.
It was all she could do to just choke out, "Why?" as the Doctor remained seated on the sofa, looking miserable, tugging at his hair in a tic that was an exact mimic of that other man.
"I'm sorry, I guess I owe you an explanation at least. Can I get you a glass of water or...something?" He stood and turned around in place helplessly, looking for something to give her that would make her stop sobbing. She shook her head and looked up at him with a gaze so hopeless and wild he couldn't help but feel something. Empathy for the suffering of another being. Guilt for being the one who caused it. He crouched down next to her on the floor, intending to comfort her, but she just hit him, hard, on the shoulder. He took the blow, without swearing or even saying, "Ow."
"That's okay," he said meekly, though she'd never implied in any way that it wasn't. In fact, she looked like she might do it again, so he moved away to a safe distance and sat on the floor across from her. She remained in the same shrunken position, not looking at him, arms now crossed over the back of her neck, sniffling every few seconds.
"I told you, I'm never gonna leave you," she said in to her knees, her voice thick and cracking.
"You told him that. I'm not him, and you said right at the start that you knew that." He tried to keep his voice low, patient, understanding but he couldn't keep an edge of bitterness out of it.
"And you told me that you loved me."
"I did, in that moment. My only lies to you have been ones of omission, and I'm so sorry for that. I should have told you when the feelings started to fade, but I kept hoping they'd come back and then it was too late." He waited for a reply but there was none beyond more sniffling. "The other Doctor's memories, I have them, but that's all I have. Just the images, just the facts. The feelings are gone. They don't mean anything to me anymore. It's like I read about you in a book and that's the only way I know you. He loved you very much, because he had the memories of how you made him feel. I don't."
She looked up at him, her face a wreck, make-up smudged, eyes red and glassy. "But we've known each other for months now. How do I make you feel?"
"Sad."
"Makes two of us, " she grimaced in what might have been a weak smile and a little snort of a bitter laugh.
"Not just sad. You're my friend, though I could understand if you don't consider me much of one. I feel a certain fondness for you. But it's like we got tossed in to this arranged marriage and you, and everyone else, just assumed we'd known each other for years already. When I look at you, all I'm reminded of is how much I don't feel. I wanted to try though and I'm afraid I've bollocksed it up quite royally."
"That you have." She was regaining control of her breathing, for the time being. Sorrow this strong tends to come in waves, lest a person literally die of grief. "So, how long, since...you know."
"Far too long. I don't know...a while. A long time. I think if you're honest you'll have the answer yourself."
She felt ill. All of that aggressive lovemaking, it wasn't lovemaking at all. It was just sex, just fucking, to try to make himself feel something. The heat of anger began to rise in her again and she scanned the room quickly to take stock of what she could throw that would hurt the most. "Oh, god."
"I know. I might not know who I am but I do know I'm not very nice." He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
"So...." She took a long, deep, shuddering breath. "Where do we go from here?"
He drew his mouth in to a straight line for a moment. "I expect you'll walk out on me, probably after you throw something or hit me again, and slam the door hard enough I'll have to apologize to the neighbors in the morning. I'll feel like rubbish for a long time, and I'll pick up the phone to ring you and apologize a dozen times a day, but I won't." He lifted an eyebrow and invited her to add more to the list.
"No, I think you're wrong."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"The Doctor, the other Doctor, I made a promise to him that I'd make you better. I might hate you--which, by the way, I don't even now--but I'll always love him and I've always kept my promises to him. Look that up in your little memory banks and you'll see. Rose Tyler always keeps her promises to the Doctor." She stood and walked to the kitchen, leaving him alone on the floor. He could hear the sound of water running for a good long while, and he sat alone with his thoughts and the other man's memories. It was true, Rose had done some fairly ridiculous things in order to keep her promise to the Doctor that she'd never leave him. For one thing, she'd left her family and friends multiple times, left them even as they pleaded for her not to go. That was downright cold of her, even selfish. But he was coming to understand that human love was like that.
She came back in to the room holding a tea towel and dabbing at her eyes. "'S like this, yeah? We're both going to forget we ever knew each other. Mum always used to tell me, if you love something, set it free. I'm setting you free." She caught the look in his eye. "You're so bloody not like him. I don't need another him in my life, one was enough. More than enough." She stood over him now, and he suddenly felt very tiny indeed. "In fact, see that sofa? I'm sleeping right there tonight because you are not going to be left alone until I'm sure of some things. But after that, you and me, we're starting over. From the beginning. And if we fall in love...well, let's just start at the beginning first and we'll see."
"We never had a beginning," he said weakly.
"We will now. And you can make up your mind about how I make you feel, Doctor." She smiled an exhausted, weak, very tiny little smile. "No pressure, mind."