The Doctor flicked a lever as soon as the doors shut behind us. The TARDIS started dematerializing. The Time Rotor rose and fell in a calm rhythm.
The Doctor bounced all over the console. He was in his element.
"It's a first contact event," he said, eyes bright. "We can't ignore a first contact event."
Rose meanwhile was gripping the rail. Her earlier bravado of confidence in front of Jackie was wearing off.
"Mum's going to think I've done it again," she said, her voice high and panicky. "Like I can't help myself. I literally just got back, and I'm already—"
"Oh, isn't that right?" I tried to soothe Rose's anxiety by trying to joke. "Twelve hours back, and we're already on the run again."
"So what, you think we should stay?" she asked, but her voice was soft—it looked like she was almost hoping I'd say yes. "Because I… I could stay."
Her bravery from before was gone by now and I could see she was starting to second guess her decision.
"I'm not saying don't go," I added, before Rose could turn it into a yes-or-no. "I'm saying actions have consequences."
"You saying we shouldn't?"
"No," I said. "We go. But there's no need to pretend it's clean you know."
We did just broke Jackie's heart again. I knew her for long enough. I saw her face, that wasn't a lecture, that was fear.
"Jackie will be fine," The Doctor spoke up while turning dials. "We have more important things right now."
I almost pointed out that there is a significant difference between "fine" and "terrified", but I understood why he wants to move on with the topic.
"Indeed we do." I said carefully, "Doctor, does any of it feel… off to you?"
He didn't look up. "Alien ships hitting landmarks usually feel off, yes."
"Obviously," I said. "But not that way, off as in designed."
"Designed for who?" Rose asked, and the answer frightened her before any of us said anything further.
"For us," I turned to her. "For Earth. I worked with enough spaceships to know that one was fully operational. The fire wasn't even coming from the right place, unless the designers purposefully put the engine in a sub-optimal place..."
"If you're right, that's more reason to go." The Doctor finally looked up. "If it's real, people die. If it's not real, someone's playing games with Earth. Either way— we go."
***
We landed a few streets away from the Thames. The air outside tasted like burnt plastic mixed with the damp riverside air. Sirens were already sounding from far away, so we kept our heads down and ran toward the smoke.
Arriving at the riverbank we saw the supposed wreck. The ship was half-submerged in the Thames, its nose down in the mud and its tail section up toward the air in an awkward angle. It was relatively small, considering average spaceship sizes—maybe about 20 meters from bow to stern.
The hull looked almost organic, like it was grown rather than built. Interesting. Looks like TARDISes aren't that unique after all, or at least not every part of them.
The metal had a strange iridescence to it, panels flowing into each other without visible seams or rivets. Normally this would look beautiful, but instead it just looked wrong. The hull was too intact.
The "damage" along the starboard side was superficial—scoring and scorch marks that didn't even penetrate deep enough to cause issues, let alone let anything inside get damaged. No breach in the hull at all, barely even dented. No exposed systems. This was just theatre. Not even the smoke smelled like burning systems up close.
"This isn't impact damage," I said, crouching near a torn plating. "It's dressed damage. Look at the scoring, I said, tracing a blackened line with my fingertip. Heat applied from the outside. Someone wanted it to look like a crash. If this thing actually fell out of the sky, the frame would be twisted like a crushed can. It isn't."
"Why would anyone fake an alien invasion?" Rose asked.
"Panic makes people obedient. Someone always benefits." The Doctor answered her.
It's a power grab, or distraction, leverage, or all of them. Somebody always benefited. Fear is currency.
"When people panic, they stop asking the right questions. That's the point." I added.
"Who's staging it—and why now?" Rose murmured.
"Who needed the world looking up at the sky instead of at them?" The Doctor said, his face hardened.
The sirens were very close now. I could hear engines from just above us. I looked up.
"We're about to have company."
A shout cut through the smoke. "MOVE BACK! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"
The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand. "Right, we are not getting arrested today."
"Yeah, let's leave before we become part of the evidence." I said as we backed away.
***
Once we were back inside the TARDIS, Rose slumped into the chair.
She's been running on adrenaline since the crash, by now it burned off completely, leaving her looking hollow.
The Doctor was back to jumping around the console. "We need more data. I want scans, I want to know exactly what it is, before we decide to do anything else."
"Not so fast," I corrected. "We promised an hour, Jackie's still waiting, she deserves an explanation—from me, at least."
"You don't owe anyone anything," he said, too fast, not even looking up from the monitor.
"Humans," he added, like the word could explain everything. "They'll be all right."
"That's the difference between us, Doctor," I said. "You can leave and call it necessary. I can't. Besides look at Rose."
Rose's voice drifted up at her name being mentioned, sleepy and rough. "M'fine. Stop talking about me like I'm not here. "
The Doctor and I exchanged a glance, reaching a silent understanding between us.
"Drop me at the estate," I said. "You two do your scans and investigation, then I'll catch up."
"You're better at mysteries anyway," I added. "I'm better at repairs, and Jackie and Mickey urgently need one."
"People aren't machines," the Doctor snapped automatically.
"Oh no," I said. "They're even worse. They remember."
***
The Doctor dropped me off back at the courtyard. I was watching the TARDIS dematerialize again. It's beautiful, it never gets old no matter how many times I watched it happen in my life.
'Right, Jackie. Let's do this.' I took deep breath and turned around heading for the stairs.
As I was climbing the stairs my mind was working in overdrive. I wonder how she will react. I was practically a part of their life for years. As I remember I don't even think Mickey had other close friends like me, and I just disappeared alongside with Rose.
I arrived in front of Jackie's door, I straightened my back and raised my hand.
I stopped in the motion for a second, braced myself and knocked.
The door opened, and there was Jackie, standing in the doorway like she'd been waiting in the exact spot for who knows how long.
Her face twitched slightly when she didn't see who she had hoped to see, but instead saw me standing there. She crossed her arms, looked me up and down and said:
"Oh, it's you."
"Hi Jackie," I tried for a smile. " 'been a while…"
She was eyeing me for a bit but still stepped aside.
"Come in." she gestured with her head.
I thanked her and went inside. Her apartment hadn't changed much. Why would it have? At least, not at first glance. But if you looked long enough, you would notice certain things that would normally raise questions.
For example, there was a jacket hanging on the wall, collecting dust, and an unwashed mug with a dried-on lipstick mark sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter.
There were items all over the place that when put together would tell the bigger picture even without asking.
I decided not to address it instead I stopped and stood in the living room.
"Is Mickey coming, perhaps?"
Jackie stopped in her way in the kitchen and without looking back at me she said:
"He went to do some shopping for me, he should be back soon."
She continued on her way and asked back her own. "Where's Rose."
"Oh, they… we'll be here shortly as well." I said awkwardly. "Just parking down the… box."
"Hmm." was the only thing she responded to me dodging the question, she took out some mugs.
"Tea?" she offered, "Or is tea not grand enough for the spacemen?"
Ah. Weaponized politeness. Classic Jackie losing her crap, but acts composed anyway.
"Oh no, I gladly accept it. I like the way you make them."
Her hands shook when she reached for the kettle.
"I don't care what you are." she said. "I care what you did."
"Rose is with him because the universe is bigger than she was taught. And because he makes her feel like she matters."
"A year," she suddenly slapped the counter top. "A year, you selfish—"
"I know."
"I kept her room the same," she says, like a confession. "Like that would make her come back."
"I know."
"You can't fix this." She blurted out. She looked at me at exasperation. She took a few ragged breath, stopping herself from saying more.
She could yell at me for hours it would still not make her calm down and she would still have more to say to me even after that. So she calmed herself down and returned to make tea.
"You can't repair a year, love," she said.
"A year. My daughter was gone for a year—" she turned around looking at me. "And you're standing here like you're… dropping off milk."
"Jackie— I'm not here to defend it." I said. "I'm just here, because I owe you an explanation."
"An explanation," she repeated. "Well go on then. Explain it to me. Who are you? Was everything a lie?"
"Steven was real," I said. "Everything you knew about him—about me—was real. I wasn't pretending to like you, or Mickey, or this place. I lived here. It was my life."
Jackie's shoulders moved a fraction. "Steven paid rent," she said. "Steven lived upstairs. Steven knew where I kept the spare mugs and which ones Rose hated. Don't you dare tell me that was all part of some… plan."
"It wasn't a… plan," I said defensively, "It was a life. Full and honest."
"Then what are you now, if you're not Steven?"
"I'm still him. I'm just… not only him."
Jackie threw her hands in the air. "Here we go."
"I know," I said. "I know how it sounds."
She set the mug down a bit too hard. "Well, try me."
I breathed out. "When I moved in upstairs, I was Steven. Properly Steven. Normal job, normal worries, normal life. I wasn't hiding anything from you because I didn't have anything to hide."
I tapped my chest. "Then one day something… woke up. The other part. The me sitting in front of you. I'm not human, Jackie. I'm not from here."
Jackie folded her arms tighter. "And that helps me how, exactly?"
"It doesn't. It doesn't help you. But it's the truth." I said, and meant it. "You asked who I am. That's who I am."
Silence took us. We just sat together, nobody saying anything. She stared at the kettle then, with a steady hand that didn't match her face, she picked it up and poured water into the mugs. Without looking at me, she handed me one.
"Drink," she said.
I blinked. "What?"
"Drink," she repeated, sharper this time.
I took it. My fingers were still cold from the river air. The hot mug helped a lot.
Jackie also drank her portion. She still looked angry, but at least she no longer wanted to throw me out. I think.
"So," she said, slowly. "Steven was real. And now Steven's got… what, an alien twin living in his head? Is that it?"
"That's not—" I started, then stopped. "Close enough."
"And this is why Rose vanished for a year," she said, voice tightening again. "Because you lot can't just take her for a day out, can you. No. It's got to be a whole year."
"It wasn't supposed to be a year." I looked down into the tea. There was no defense for that. "Just a few hour… that accidentally turned into a few months."
She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see it in her face—she wanted someone to blame. The Doctor wasn't here. Rose wasn't here. I was.
"Do you know what I did?" she said, suddenly, and her voice wasn't loud now. It was worse. "Do you know what a year does to a mother?"
"…I can guess."
No, you can't," she said. "You can't guess." She pointed at the hallway like she could see Rose's room through the walls. "I kept her room the same. I didn't throw anything away. Not a sock, not a silly magazine, not a bit of rubbish. Because the second I change it, it means I've accepted she's not coming back."
My throat tightened again. I didn't say "I'm sorry" because it sounded ridiculous even in my own head.
Jackie exhaled hard through her nose. Then she looked at me properly for the first time since the door.
"Oh my God," she said, sounding more tired than angry. "What the hell are you wearing?"
I blinked. "What?"
"And what is that thing on your forehead?" she looked at the goggles. "You look ridiculous."
I glanced down at myself. Cargo trousers, tool belt, and boots caked in Thames mud.
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Jackie's mouth also twitched. Just barely. But it was there.