This story delves into some darker themes. Dark, dark, dark, at least for me so there are some...

WARNINGS...

EVIL Meta-Crisis (yes, that needed all caps), there are some torture scenes not really graphic (no pulling toenails out type stuffs, but some not very nice things happen to Rose), and there may be some mature scenes later (again nothing too graphic).

CREDITS...

The idea for this story came from a brilliant story I'm reading. Tick Tock by natural-blues, which is an awesome story and if you haven't read it you should check it out. Her imaginary friend is where my inspiration came from, a completely unique, completely fantastic idea!

The Doctor flopped down in the jump seat with an exasperated sigh. Amy and Rory were sleeping. Humans. He finally figured out what went wrong with the chameleon circuit and since his companions insisted on getting at least eight hours of sleep…eight hours, honestly did they even realize that was over one-fourth of a day?...he figured he would occupy himself with repairing it, but the TARDIS decided she didn't want the circuit fixed and started shocking him. He finally gave up after she singed four of his fingers.

He glanced at his watch. Six hours twenty-two minutes before the Ponds would be up. What was he supposed to do for six hours twenty-two minutes? That was enough time to save a planet, bake four pies, one at a time, sculpt a statue, well, he could sculpt a stature in two hours, compose a piece of music… His thoughts trailed off as a familiar melody reached him. An old Gallifreyan lullaby. He hadn't heard it since…since he taught it to…no he couldn't even think her name. It still hurt too much. He paused. Where was that coming from? He listened. Wait. It was there, but it was…in his mind.

"Is that you?" he asked, gazing up at the ceiling.

No reply, but that wasn't unusual.

The melody was still present and as he sat there it grew louder. The room began to grow dark. Wait.

He opened his eyes and he was standing in a room he didn't recognize. It was white, white walls, white ceiling, metal framed bed with white sheets and a white blanket. It was pushed up against the wall. Someone was lying on the bed dressed in a white hospital gown. A woman, at least he thought it was a woman. Her back was to him and she was curled into a fetal position. Her blonde hair hung loose. She wasn't moving, but as he watched he could see the steady rise and fall of her side, indicating she was alive.

"Um…hello," he tried as he crept toward her.

Her whole body stiffened. Fear. Something happened to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, bending down next to the bed.

In a flash of movement that he wouldn't have thought possible she sat up and moved against the wall, as far away as she could manage without actually getting off the bed.

That was when he saw her face and for a moment his mind simply couldn't handle the emotions his body was experiencing. There was hope, hope that she really was who she appeared to be. Fear, because she was there in that room and something happened to her. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that it was really, extremely not good. Rage because someone had done this to her, someone had made her afraid. Regret, because that's what he'd felt everyday in that new body because that's what it had been born from. The regret of losing the woman he loved. Love, oh, there was more of that than anything else.

He wanted to reach for her. To touch her, make sure she was real and if she was he wanted to hold her and never let her go, but she was looking at him in a way he'd never seen before. Like a trapped animal about to be slaughtered. Who put that look in her eyes? The moment he found out he would obliterate them, erase them from existence. His hand that had begun to reach toward her of its own accord closed on the air between them because he couldn't force her, especially in this condition.

"Rose," he whispered. Her eyes snapped to his and the fear broke his hearts. "It's me. It's the Doctor." For a moment, a brief moment, the fear was replaced by hope and then she shook her head, but that moment was enough to fuel him. "I'm the Doctor. I really am. I'm here. I'm right here." She didn't move and he could hear her heart beating rapidly. "Remember the gas mask zombies?" he asked, hoping that she would realize only he would know about that. "That was the first time we met Jack. And the Sycorax on Christmas Eve? Lost my hand in a sword fight?" She just stared at him. She could hear him, he knew she could because his voice is what first made her move. "It's me Rose. It really is me. Just like then. New face. Guess that would make me the new new new Doctor."

She didn't even smile. Not a twitch. What the hell happened to her?

"I don't know how you did it, but it won't work, yeah?" she finally said and her voice. He'd never heard her so sad. He knew if it was anyone else they wouldn't be able to tell, but he could hear what was missing. That spark that'd always been there. It was gone. It was as if she had lost her fight. "You can't fool me. I know you have all his memories so play your game with someone else. I'm tired." She sighed, looking away. "I'm so tired."

She laid down, facing the wall, curling her body back into a fetal position.

I know you have all his memories. Those words pierced his hearts because he knew what they meant. They meant that the person who had done this was the one he left her with. He swallowed, barely holding back the tears.

"Did…did he do this to you?"

She didn't answer. She didn't know him, didn't trust him. The thought that the woman he loved had lost faith in him hurt more than any pain he ever experienced. It burned his very soul. There had to be a way he could reach her. Then he remembered the sonic. He pulled it back out.

"Rose," he whispered. "Do you remember this?"

He pushed the button. She turned, very slowly, almost as if she was afraid, but not in the same way. Her eyes fell on the sonic in his outstretched hand, eyes widening. She reached out a tentative hand and touched the device.

"It's different," she breathed.

"New, new, new, sonic," he replied.

Then she looked at him. Deep hazel met emerald green. He smiled because that's what she needed. She'd always been the strong one, but this time she needed him to hold her hand and he would because he would do anything for Rose Tyler, even if it met flying his TARDIS into a fleet of Dalek ships.

"You're here," she said, slowly, as if she was afraid he'd vanish.

She reached toward him and his breath caught as her hand stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. God, he never thought he'd feel her touch again. Before he knew it was happening, a tear slid down his cheek. He opened his eyes as she brushed it away and was rewarded by a smile he never thought he'd see again.

"I missed you," he said, this new body allowing him to be more honest with her than he'd ever been.

"I missed you too."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her close, breathing in her scent and vowing that he would never let her go again.

"Oi, sleepy head," Amy's insistent voice called.

He felt someone shove his leg unceremoniously with her shoe covered foot. Not a kick, but pretty close. He opened his eyes and glared up at the ginger who interrupted his dream. Annoyance thrummed through his body.

He hadn't dreamed about her in a long time. He wanted to, but on the few occasions when he slept his mind was filled with other memories, darker memories and although the dream hadn't started out well and she had been in a cell being hurt by the man he left her with, something that would've filled him with guilt if it were true, it ended well. With his arms wrapped around her and hers around him. Then came Amelia.

"What do you want now, Amelia?" he snapped.

"Get up on the wrong side of the jump seat?" she teased.

He sighed, standing up as he rubbed his face. Five minutes of happiness? Was that really too much to ask? Another sigh escaped him as he realized that, yes, for him five minutes was far too much to ask for.

He walked over to the console and that's when he noticed Rory set a cup down.

"Is this a table?" he snapped, eyeing the centurion.

"Um…" Rory began, glancing at Amy for help.

"The answer is no. My TARDIS a highly sensitive piece of equipment, very complicated, very powerful, very precious and very much NOT A PIECE OF FURNITURE."

Rory grabbed his cup and hurried to the other side of the room.

"What crawled up your skirt and died?" Amy snapped, eyeing him angrily in her coming to my husband's defense mode.

He rolled his eyes.

"If you haven't noticed I'm not wearing a skirt, Pond."

"You know what I mean," she insisted, folding her arms and catching his gaze.

Their eyes locked. Why did she have to be so…she was right. He was upset over a dream. A stupid, not even real dream. He was getting old. He turned back to the console, pulling his ready smile in place.

"Who's ready for an adventure?" he asked, glancing at Amy.

She smiled. That was all he needed. He grabbed the lever for the time rotor and flipped it.

The TARDIS knew she hurt her thief when she established the connection with her sister, but she needed him and he was strong enough to take the pain. He would have to be strong in the coming days because it would take a while for the TARDIS to find a way across the Void.

The day she heard her sister's pain calling across the Void through one of the cracks she vowed she would find a way. She had to save her sister, but until then she couldn't leave her sister alone. So, she made a mental link between her sister and her thief. The man her sister saved. She would need his strength and her faith in him to survive the coming days.

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

Reviews are always welcome. :)