Title: Memory Burn
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 24, Memory
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor, or his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor stretched out under the covers of the bed he shared with John, closing his eyes and pulling the other man close. It had been a long, stressful day, and he'd been glad to get away from the planet that the two of them had found themselves on.

He shuddered at the memory of their time there -- he'd thought that he might have been done for, that John would soon be the only man in the universe with this particular face and body. But thanks to his human clone, he'd lived to see another day.

Hopefully, many more days, he told himself, consciously trying to make himself relax. He didn't intend to expire and leave John alone any time soon.

The only thing that had bothered him was John's reminiscent tone when he'd mentioned that their little adventure had been rather like a time in the past -- a time long gone, when he'd been in a different body. A time that he himself had almost forgotten.

It was strange to have someone by his side who shared his memories, someone who could pull those long-ago happenings out of the mists of his mind and make them seem crystal-clear, as though they had happened only yesterday.

It wasn't an intrusion, he told himself hastily. And he'd gotten used to John havng such a symbiotic relationship with him, knowing so much of what was in his mind. In fact, it was comforting in a way to have someone with him who knew him so well.

But at the same time, it also felt .... strange. It was as though John was a part of him, though they obviously weren't physically joined. It was odd to be able to look at John and know that in so many ways, this man he loved was himself.

Did that take vanity over a line that shouldn't be crossed? The Doctor shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. He couldn't deal with them at the moment.

And John was right, really. The situation they'd just gotten themselves out of had been very reminiscent of one in the distant past -- and though he'd had a companion to help him out of it at the time, they hadn't been as close to him as this man was.

That memory still made him shudder; he'd come so close to losing his life then. This time had been very similar, only now he felt that he had much more to lose. He didn't want to give up the body he was in -- or the man he shared his life with.

Everything was so different now from what it had ever been before, he told himself, his mind going back over the memories of his past lives, past bodies. He'd never had a relationship like the one he had with John; no one had ever cared for him so deeply.

Of course, that was because no one had ever been a part of him in the way that John was. In all of his years, all of his memories, he'd never had an experience like the one that had brought John to him, made the other man a part of his life.

Humans would love to study the both of them, he thought wryly, and discover just how a perfect clone had been made. That thought was frightening.

It brought forth another memory, of being trapped in a laboratory on Earth, about to be taken apart and studied like some kind of lab animal. The Doctor shuddered at the memory, burying his face against John's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Those kinds of memories burned; they weren't something that he wanted to have lodged in his brain. But of course, they would always be there; they'd never go away. They were a part of his past, though they weren't the most pleasant of experiences.

John had those memories, too -- and he could access them just as readily. He might even be able to bring them to the surface more easily than the Doctor -- after all, they hadn't technically happened to him, but to the man who he was part of.

The other man's arms were around him, John's soft voice murmuring in his ear. "Doctor, are you all right?" Those arms tightening around his waist, drawing him closer to John; his own thin arms slid around the other man's waist, snuggling closer against him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he answered, unwilling to admit that there were memories assailing him and making him feel unsettled. "Just the aftereffects starting to hit me."

"You'll feel better once you've gotten some rest," John told him, his tone soothing. "Just relax and go to sleep, Doctor. I'll be here if you need me." A hand stroked through his hair, the touch gentle and more soothing than he'd imagined anything could be.

The Doctor pushed the disturbing, burning memories out of his mind, wondering if those same memories were crowding into John's consciousness. He'd have to remember to ask about that, he thought as he closed his eyes and slumber claimed him.

***