Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 28, 1997

Dear Diary—

Nope, doesn’t work. I don’t know how Benny does it; that’s too cheesy for me. Let’s try again:

Hi. It’s me, Ace. 

I’m writing in here because, well…I don’t have anyone else to talk to now. For the first time since I can remember, I’m…alone. 

But that’s the thing. What I can remember might be a lie. 

Yeah, I’m not stupid. I’ve been around time lords and psychics and crazy whackos long enough to know when my memory’s been tampered with. Something’s happened. I remember the Professor telling me that he was dropping me off somewhere, that I had a job to do…then nothing. Realistically, he could have said that before he dropped me off here on Earth. Maybe I just hit my head or something. 

But there’s…something. Not quite a gap, but a fracture. Like there’s a tiny line between my memory of the Doctor and waking up here. 

At the same time, though, the memory wipe is so complete that I have no idea what memories I’m missing. The person who did this to me obviously knew what they were doing, but it’s almost like they left a clue so I’d find them out. How does that make any sense? 

See, the thing is, I can’t help but wonder if it was the Doctor. Was he that man I saw when I woke up back here on Earth? Did he have to erase my memories for a “good reason” and know that I’d figure it out? Or did he leave me with the knowledge that my memories were tampered with, knowing there’s no way I can recover the things I’ve lost? 

That sounds infuriating like him. 

Anyway, if I start thinking too hard about what I’m missing, if I delve into that little crack between memories, I get this really bad throbbing headache. But if someone thought that would stop me, they’re wrong. 

No one steals my memories and gets away with it. I’ll find out who did it. I’ll get my memories back. 

For now, all I can do is figure out what my next step is. I found my way to the road and got a lift to a crummy old hotel in London—whoever that guy was had the decency to put some cash on me, so I can at least make my way for a little while. 

But what’s the point now? What if it wasn’t the Doctor who tampered with my memories and he doesn’t know where I am? How can I contact him? The last thing I remember him saying was that he’d come back for me—but how can he do that if he has no idea where I am in all of time and space? 

Okay, Ace. Keep it together. This isn’t the worst scrape you’ve been in. 

I reckon that all I can do now is find somewhere to wait. I’ll try to get in touch with UNIT and see if I can find the Doctor that way—and if that fails, I’ll run into trouble whenever I see it. I’m bound to bump into him then, one way or other. I have to.

Because the truth is, I don’t have a purpose here on Earth anymore. It’s been ten years, in linear time, since I was taken away by the time storm. How am I supposed to phone up my old mates and say, “Hey, I know I’ve been gone for ten years but could you do us a favour?” And forget Mum—that’s one conversation I’m not ready to have. Not sure if I’ll ever be ready, to be honest. 

It’s like my entire life is out there in the universe, and I can’t even imagine being stuck here now—

I’m tired. Think I’ll turn in.

Chapter Text

November 30, 1997

Yep. Something weird is definitely going on. For the record, no, I don’t have my memories back. 

But I had a visitor yesterday. 

I was taking a walk late at night—I do it pretty often to clear my head. It was cold out, but I didn’t mind. The chill helped me think better.

I was trying to get into those forbidden memories again. They’ve got to still be in there somewhere, right? I still experienced them. I still lived them. Someone might have hidden them away, but I think they’re right there, hidden behind that little fracture. I just have to figure out how to get in there. 

Of course, like every other night, I wasn’t having any luck. I got back to my new flat (I say “new,” but really I mean “new to me” because it’s a grubby, dirty old place; I’m trying to save my cash, all right?) and saw that there was someone outside my door. 

Luckily, I had been quiet while coming up the stairs, so whoever it was hadn’t noticed me yet. Even though it was hard to make them out in the dark, I thought it was a man, dressed in travelling clothes. 

After you’ve been around aliens for a while, you start to see the differences between them and humans, even if they look humanoid. It’s in the way they dress, a lot of times. The guy in front of my flat was outfitted in something that looked like it was from a different time entirely. Most people would have just dismissed it as eccentricity, but I knew better.

I wasn’t sure what to do at first. He wasn’t trying to break in, simply waiting with his hands clasped behind him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I had a folding pocketknife that I carried with me in case of emergencies; I’d found it a couple days after being back on Earth. After everything I’ve seen, you can never be too careful. I hadn’t used it yet, but I slid it into my palm just in case. Then, I drew myself up and marched forward. 

“Hey!” I hissed, aware of the late hour as I walked past the entrances to other flats. “Are you looking for me?” 

The man turned, his expression coloured in shock. After a moment, he broke out into a wide grin. “Ace!” He jogged the short distance between us and stopped short a couple feet away. He ran a hand through his short hair and tried to start a few different sentences without success. Finally, he decided on, “I tried so hard to find you, and when you didn’t answer the door I thought—” He sighed with relief, his smile softening into one of sincere care. “It’s so good to see you safe.” 

Needless to say, I was confused. Properly, really confused. The man in front of me wasn’t familiar in the slightest, but he looked at me with so much raw affection that it stunned me. I instantly thought that this was the case of my missing memories at work—but like I said, you can never be too careful around aliens you don’t know. 

“Look, mate,” I said, loosening my grip ever so slightly on the pocketknife, “I don’t know who you are.” 

He blinked, his smile melting away in an instant. “Ace, it’s me, Narvin. Surely, you…” The smile tried to come back, but with less conviction this time. “This is one of your jokes, isn’t it?” 

Guilt flooded through me, despite the fact that none of this was my fault. I fought against the feeling and reminded myself to stay on guard. Actually, I wanted to doubt him and believe that he was trying to trick me because that would be easy—taking out the bad guy like usual. Considering that he was my friend and I couldn’t even remember him was much worse. 

“I’ve never known a ‘Narvin,’” I told him, softening my tone. 

His expression fell slack. He just stared at me, looking as confused as I felt. “But these were the exact coordinates, the right time, I made sure…” he muttered to himself. 

Then, something seemed to click. Several expressions passed over his face in the span of a few seconds—shock, anger, hurt—until his eyes turned wide and pleading. 

“Romana.” He threw the name out like a lifeline. “Leela.” He swallowed and hesitated slightly before uttering the next word. “Braxiatel. Do those names mean anything to you?” 

I shrugged, but on the inside, I felt an increasing sense of dread. Maybe panic, even. It was obvious that Narvin had known me, that we’d been good mates. And these other people—had they been my friends, too?

I knew that I’d lost some memories. I hadn’t known they were so important.

The names he’d said were a bit familiar, but I had no feelings attached to them. “Braxiatel, yeah. I think…a long time ago…” I shook my head as I tried to remember. Benny had been there, right? And the Doctor? It was all fuzzy, though, and I couldn’t recall anything too specific. “And the others—maybe the Doctor brought them up?” 

Narvin’s breath came out in a whoosh. His mouth hung slightly open, like he was at a loss for what to say. 

I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so bad for someone in my life. Blimey, I thought. I really must have meant something to this guy.

I sighed and put my pocketknife away. “Look,” I began as the wind started to pick up, “it’s cold out. D’you want to come in? It’s a bit messy, but there’s a place to sit and I could make you a cuppa.” 

“I’m not sure if I should.” Narvin looked down, avoiding my gaze, but I could see the pain in his eyes. It was tearing him apart to see me like this.

“Please.” The word slipped out without thinking about it. Narvin looked at me again, this time with a puzzled frown, and I tried to think of how to continue. Now I was the one reaching out to him. If my memories really were still inside of me somewhere, maybe a part of me, however small it was, recognised him. 

And I didn’t really know why, but I felt like I needed him. 

“I know that something happened to me,” I continued. “I want to know what.” 

After a moment, he nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. It’s just that…” He attempted another smile. “Tea would be wonderful.” 

I unlocked my flat and let him in. Everything about it felt completely strange and utterly normal at the same time. I didn’t know this man—but I knew that I did. I just didn’t remember. 

The flat was the same as it always was—tiny and cramped, with a small kitchen barely large enough to take two steps in right next to a living room that was currently furnished with a single dilapidated armchair. There were two doors: one to the bathroom, and one to my bedroom that was barely larger than the kitchen. 

I offered the armchair to Narvin since it was the only place to sit besides the floor. He looked at it dubiously, but thanked me after a moment and delicately sat on the edge of the cushion. 

“This is where you live?” he asked, looking around at the whole lot of nothing. 

“Yep. What about it?” 

“It’s…” He cleared his throat. “Nice.” 

“No it’s not. It’s rubbish, but I don’t need much right now. Just staying here while I figure things out.” 

And then there was silence. Narvin wasn’t much of a conversationalist, it seemed. I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea as something to do, racking my brains to figure out where to start. 

“So,” I said, casting a glance back at him over my shoulder, “who exactly are you, Narvin?” 

“The long answer, or the short one?” 

I shrugged. “I’ve got all night.” 

“Well, for a start, I’m a time lord.” 

I froze. It was almost involuntary. 

“I trust you remember the Doctor?” Narvin asked, no doubt seeing my reaction. 

“Yeah, ‘course I do.” I grabbed the only two mugs I possessed out of the cupboard and looked over at Narvin. “Are you a friend of his?” 

He winced—just barely, but it was noticeable. “Not as such, but I do know him.” 

“Wait.” I paused again, taking all of this in. “If you’re a time lord, can’t you, I dunno, look into my mind and find my memories or something?” 

“Considering who I believe took your memories, I very much doubt it.”

“You know?” I spun around so fast it nearly made me dizzy. “Take me to them. I’ll kick their head in.” 

Narvin actually cracked a small smile at that. “I’m not sure that would be wise, and anyway, I don’t know his whereabouts. I’d quite like to have a word with him myself,” he muttered.

“Can’t you at least try?” I walked back over to the living room, tea entirely forgotten. 

Narvin searched my eyes, then nodded. “Yes, I suppose it’s worth a try.” 

Wordlessly, I sat cross-legged on the carpet and Narvin got down on the floor facing me. It hit me suddenly that this could all be a trick. What if he was some evil time lord trying to access my memories of the Doctor or the TARDIS or something? But somehow, inexplicably, I knew that wasn’t the case. Part of me said that I’d lost all reason, but a tiny part of me, the part that was lost, trusted Narvin implicitly. 

Narvin raised his hands, reaching towards my head. 

And then…well, something snapped. 

For some reason I couldn’t explain, my heart started racing. My chest tightened and I felt like I could hardly breathe. I could remember— Maybe it wasn’t a memory exactly, but the memory of a feeling. Something terrifying. Something overwhelming. The hands that were reaching towards me were no longer Narvin’s, but someone else’s, someone who was about to do something terrible to me—

“Stop!” 

I barely choked the word out. Tears were building up in my eyes. I gasped in air, trying to figure out what had just happened. I’d nearly had a panic attack and I didn’t even know why. 

Narvin repeated my name a few times before I could even move. He’d backed away from me, but concern was written on every inch of his face. 

“What happened? Are you all right?” 

I nodded, trying to blink away my tears. My cheeks felt warm and I knew I was blushing—I’m not the kind of person to break down in front of just anyone. 

“Did you…remember something?” he asked gently, daring to move a few inches closer. 

I swallowed before I replied, knowing that my voice would shake if I didn’t control it. “Sort of. It was more like a feeling. The thought of someone entering my mind—” I shuddered. 

Narvin was silent, but I watched his hand ball into a fist. His lips pressed into a thin line. There was no doubt he was ready to punch someone on my behalf.

The need to know him and recover my memories rose up in me again, stronger than the panic. I sniffed and sat up, meeting Narvin’s eyes. “I want you to try again.” 

His eyes widened. “I can’t. I won’t do that to you, Ace.” 

“Look, I don’t know who it was that did that to me, but it wasn’t you. Please. I can handle it this time.” 

“No.” Something hardened in his expression. “We’re not doing it again, and that’s final.” 

A fire lit up inside of me. If Narvin really knew me, he should have known better than to try and stop me. 

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle? You can’t boss me around. These are my memories, all right?” I got up and dropped myself down directly in front of him. “Do the psychic thing. Now.” 

There was a war waged behind his eyes. Finally, he huffed. “Sometimes, Ace, you can be very…” 

“Persuasive? Yeah, I know.” I nodded at his hands. “Now come on. Just…be gentle, if you think about it.” 

His eyes softened. “Of course.” Once again, he lifted his hands, but his movements were slower this time. I swallowed down the fear that instantly and inexplicably overtook me.  

I can do this, I told myself. I closed my eyes. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears but I tuned it out. 

I barely felt Narvin’s fingertips at my temples. I hardly even felt his presence in my mind. It was like he was keeping himself compact, trying not to touch anything. 

“It’s all right,” I said, breathing out all of the tension in my body. “I’m okay.” 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice audible both in my ears and in my mind. 

I knew I didn’t need to respond for him to know that I agreed. He was literally in the middle of my thoughts. 

After making sure I was fine, Narvin began gently combing through my memories. He didn’t look too closely, but I could sense his sadness and regret as he saw what the past month had been like for me. A flash of a memory—one of his, not mine—slipped into my mind. 

It was weird, seeing myself through somebody else’s eyes. Is that how my voice sounds? Does my hair really look like that? Anyway, I was laughing, hard, sitting next to a tanned woman with long auburn hair who was also doubled over in laughter. Another woman stood off to the side, trying to keep a straight face, but she was also obviously tickled by whatever had just happened. That was all I could see of the memory before Narvin realised his slip-up and stopped the scene from going any further.  

Sadness washed over me, a longing for something vital that I’d lost. Not only did it seem that I’d been good friends with both of those women—those names from before, Leela and Romana, I got from Narvin’s mind—but the sensations of warmth and belonging in Narvin’s thoughts were overwhelming. 

He really, genuinely cared about me. And it was a different sort of care than I’d ever experienced. It wasn’t the Doctor’s care that came and went when it suited him, or the short-lived passion that took over the men I’d encountered all across the universe. This was something soft and gentle, something lasting.

Narvin paused as he came to the break where I thought the missing memories lay. 

“That’s where they should be, yeah?” I asked. 

“Yes,” he replied. A flare of anger from his mind caught me off guard. In Narvin’s brief lapse of control, I saw a face, an older man with too much knowledge in his eyes, and I gasped. I recognised him. 

“It was him!” I exclaimed. “The guy who left me here—he’s the one who took my memories.” Fueled by Narvin’s mental outburst, the rage inside of me began to run rampant. “Who is he? I need to find him. I need to—”

“Ace.” Narvin’s voice was firm, but calm. Something about it almost instantly made me back down. “Let me finish.” 

I sighed and tried to let go of the anger, but it still simmered in the background all the same. Narvin continued to examine the gap in my memory with an increasing sense of futility. I didn’t need to ask. He couldn’t get my memories back. 

“Please,” I whispered. “Show me something else from that time. Anything.” 

He hesitated. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” 

“I need to know, Narvin. Please. I’m asking you as—as a friend.” And really, I meant it. He buckled under the weight of the “friend card” instantly and I could sense that he was trying to choose which memory to show me. But before he could make a final decision, something slid through the cracks of his careful composure. 

I wasn’t in this memory—but at the same time, I permeated every inch of it. Narvin was alone, staring down at a desk, holding his head in his hands. He was angry, so, so angry, and sad, too. He was full of regrets—regrets about me, about not taking better care of me—and I felt an utter sense of loss. His grief filled me like it was mine.  

How could someone possibly care about me so much? How could I have forgotten about someone who felt that much love for me? 

Tears filled my eyes and my hands trembled in my lap. In a moment, I could feel Narvin shaking, too. With our minds linked, I knew that we were both on the verge of breaking down for everything that we’d lost, but then—

The kettle whistled. Narvin and I gasped in unison and drew back. We stared at each other for a minute, letting the kettle go on screaming. I understood so much more, and yet, I also understood nothing. 

I wasn’t sure if I was better off now, or worse. 

Narvin recovered first and cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t you…?” 

“Yeah.” I jumped up and moved the kettle off the hob, then poured boiling water into the awaiting mugs. My body performed the actions like a robot while my mind replayed everything I’d seen in Narvin’s mind. Meanwhile, Narvin was utterly quiet like he was doing the same. 

I wiped tears from the corners of my eyes. If this man—Braxiatel, I remembered hearing in Narvin’s mind—had to have taken my memories, why did he have to take those? From what I’d seen, from what I’d sensed from Narvin, they’d been some of the best times of my life. 

And they were gone. And I’d never get them back. 

I swallowed past a lump in my throat and looked over my shoulder. Narvin hadn’t moved from his seat on the ground. I couldn’t see his face, as his back was to me. It seemed so odd to do something as normal as making tea when a piece of my missing life was sitting there in my flat, close enough to touch but further away than ever. 

I added milk and sugar to my tea and brought both mugs over to Narvin. I sat back on the ground across from him and handed him his mug. He took it with a mumbled thanks and sniffed at it absently. He blinked, something startling him to alertness, and looked down at the tea. 

“What?” I asked. “Is something wrong?” 

He swallowed hard and looked down into the mug like it held the answer to life itself. “You knew I don’t like milk and sugar in my tea.” 

The statement stunned me. I hadn’t even thought about it. 

He uttered a brief, airy laugh. “It’s funny, the little things that slip through memory wipes like this. Never the important things, always the small things.” 

For some reason, that was what sent me over the edge. Tears welled up in my eyes and a strangled sob that I tried to repress made it out of my mouth. Narvin looked up at me in alarm. He froze like he had no idea what to do. 

It had taken a month, but right then it finally happened. I broke down. I couldn’t stand the fact that I was crying in front of a complete stranger (in a sense), and Narvin was obviously extremely uncomfortable with the sudden display of emotion. But the fact that my missing memories were sitting there, staring me in the face, so far away that I could never hope to grasp them, was more than I could bear. 

“Why is it always me?” I ground out when I found a moment to breathe. “Can’t the universe pick on someone else for a change?”

Narvin tried to comfort me in his own way, offering gentle words but never quite getting close enough to touch me. I didn’t mind; it was nice, actually. He gave me space, but at the same time, I knew someone was there for me. 

He stayed until my tears were dry and I was myself again. It was late—or rather, very early in the morning—at that point, and the good cry had made me all the more tired. I felt like I could fall asleep right there on the ground. 

But I knew for certain then that I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. 

“Look.” I sniffed, still wiping my eyes. “I know it’s not fair, but could you…stay? Just for tonight? I know you lot don’t really sleep, but I do have a radio if you get bored.” 

Narvin shifted uncomfortably and frowned, but when he met my eyes, I watched his resolve fade clean away. “Of course I will. But I can’t stay for good, Ace, I’m sorry. There are things I need to do and I…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I’m going to have to leave tomorrow. But I’ll come back. I promise I will.” 

His words so closely echoed the Doctor’s, the last memory I had before that stupid fissure, that my reply was steeped in bitterness. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, but no one ever comes back.”

The outburst startled him, I could tell. But then, without saying a word, he pushed his sleeve up to his elbow. There was something wound tightly around his wrist, so much so that when he took it off I could see that it had left indentations on his skin. He held it up in his fist—a necklace, I realised, that seemed to be made of really basic materials like stone and wood. Not something a time lord would wear. 

“This belonged to a very good friend of mine. I always wear it, and I never take it off.” 

“Except for now.” 

He nodded. “Except for now.” He held it out to me and I wrapped my fingers around it, frowning. 

“This is my most precious possession,” he said, and I couldn’t help but believe the conviction in his voice. “I will come back for this. Take good care of it.” 

I understood what he was doing, and the anger in me once again calmed. Actually wearing the necklace seemed wrong somehow, so instead I wrapped it around my left wrist just where Narvin had kept it. “I won’t let anything happen to it.”

He stared at the necklace like he was already regretting his decision, then let out a long sigh. “So, where is this radio?” 

And that’s how I met Narvin.

He’s gone now. I’m still wearing the necklace, and I keep looking at it. There’s something so familiar about it, but I can’t quite place it. Another one of the missing memories. 

I know that Narvin will come back. He wouldn’t leave the necklace. I don’t think… Well, I don’t think he’d leave me. It sounds stupid after knowing him for a few hours, but I really believe it. 

I really hope I’m right. 

Or maybe the necklace will disappear and I’ll realise that it was all just a hopeful dream. 

Chapter Text

December 7th, 1997

For once, I was right. 

Narvin came back. He didn’t even have any agenda like a certain other time lord I know. He just sat with me and let me talk, asking questions and listening to me. 

“So, what do you think you’ll do now?” Narvin asked. He once again sat in the armchair while I perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, kicking my legs. 

“Now that I’m useless, you mean?” I asked with an ironic laugh. 

He looked at me like I’d just insulted him. “You’ve never been useless. You’re brave, resourceful, inventive—and a very good chemist, too.” 

Already, I knew that Narvin wasn’t a flatterer. He was simply stating facts, but I treasured his words all the same. 

“So?” I shrugged. “I never even finished school.” I fidgeted with the necklace on my wrist, a nervous habit I’d picked up over the past week. “That’s what I mean, Narvin. I’m not meant for Earth. I’m useless here.” I gestured to the ceiling. “Out there, I felt like I could do anything. Be anything. Here, I’m just a wash up. Good for nothing.” It was still surprising to hear things coming out of my mouth that I wouldn’t have even told the Doctor. Things I would only tell someone who I trusted completely. 

Narvin let out a long sigh. He looked really, proper tired. 

“Could you…?” I’d been trying to figure out how to bring this up for the past week. “Could you take me with you?” 

“I truly wish I could, Ace.” He wasn’t just trying to console me; he really meant it. If there was one thing I liked about Narvin, it was that he was absolutely honest. “My life is dangerous,” he continued. “That’s why I can’t stay here for long—I can’t remain in one place.” 

“If you know the Doctor, you know that I lived dangerous.” 

Narvin shook his head. “This is different. Much different.” He frowned down at the arm of the chair. “Part of me is glad that you’re here, Ace, as much as I hate what was done to you. There are terrible things going on in the universe at large. I’ve watched too many people get sucked into its destruction, and I won’t see that happen to you, too.” 

“Your fight is over.” 

The words popped into my head, uttered by a voice that I’d only heard once. A voice that made me shudder, even though I didn’t know why. 

“You’ve remembered something else,” Narvin stated quietly.

“It’s that Braxiatel bloke again. Just something he said.” What did he mean, my “fight?” What was going on out there? 

“Well,” Narvin said in a tone that meant he was trying to get me to think of something else, “you must have had some idea of what you wanted to do with your life if you ever ended up back on Earth.” 

His distraction worked, and Braxiatel’s words faded to the back of my mind. I tapped my heels against the cabinet behind me as I recalled younger days. “Well… I’ve never told anyone this before. The Doctor would kill me if he found out.” 

Narvin quirked an eyebrow. “I certainly won’t tell him.” 

So I admitted that I’d set up a fund for myself while in the past during an adventure with the Doctor. I’d been especially fed up with him that day, and I’d mainly just done it to spite him. But the account was still there, and I knew that by this time, it would have grown into a considerable sum. 

“I’m not sure what I want to do with it yet,” I finished.

“You could find somewhere else to live,” Narvin offered, shifting in the dirty old armchair. 

I shook my head. “I don’t know how, but I feel like it’s more important than that. That money’s not for a car or a house; it’s for something different.” I interlaced my fingers and stared down at them. “I want to help people. Most people on Earth don’t have the Doctor. If he didn’t come along…who knows how I would have turned out.” It was a relief to finally say that out loud. The dream had been sitting inside of me for so long, but it had always seemed silly to think of saying it.

But Narvin looked quite the opposite of amused. Something like pride gleamed in his eyes as he smiled. “I think that’s very noble of you.” His gaze turned critical for a moment. “While I can’t approve of your methods, it’s already been done. You might as well make use of the money in whatever way you think best.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at his condescending tone. “Who are you, the police? Well, time lord—guess you kinda are.” 

He smirked at my comment, but there was little humour in it. 

I gave Narvin the necklace back before he left. He offered to let me keep it for longer, saying he’d be back again soon. But I told him that I didn’t need the proof anymore. I believed him. 

Chapter Text

February 10th, 1998

Yeah, yeah, I know, I haven’t been keeping up with this. Again. 

But I don’t really feel like I need to anymore. Narvin has come regularly, every two or three weeks, and we talk or go on walks for a few hours. He’s a really good listener—too good, actually. It occurred to me the last time he was here that I hadn’t once asked him about how he was doing. Every time he showed up, he looked a little more worn, his clothes a little more frayed. And all I could ever do was go on about myself. 

“It’s your turn to talk today, Narv.” I was lying on the carpet with my arms behind my head—I still hadn’t bothered to get any more furniture. Narvin was in his usual spot in the chair. Every time he came, he looked a little more comfortable in it. Now, he was almost reclining sideways across the armrests. Almost. “What are you involved in? What do you do? What’s going on that you won’t tell me?” 

“Everything you need to know about me, you’ve learned in the time I’ve been here. Everything else is…something I don’t like to discuss.” 

I glanced over at him, trying to gauge if I should try to ask him more. His lips were pressed together, his brow furrowed. 

The look of a troubled soldier. 

I wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it struck me like a thunderbolt. Yes, a soldier. The days he came to visit me were the times when he rested from whatever war he was a part of. It was when he escaped; I couldn’t take that away from him. 

“All right, then. Wanna hear about the guy I dangled off the balcony last week?” 

And that was that. I didn’t try asking him again, but I’ve picked up bits and pieces about who he is. It’s obvious that he’s on the run from someone or something. I started to wonder why he couldn’t go home, and one day the obvious answer hit me: because he’s on the run from home. But he’s so much different than the Doctor—could he be another renegade? Somehow, I get the feeling that it’s more than that. 

Then there’s Leela and Romana. He talks about them with so much…I dunno, adoration? Affection? It makes me feel like I’m actually getting to know them. But there’s pain in his eyes whenever he mentions their names, too. I wonder where they are, but I’m too afraid to ask. 

All this to say that… I know it sounds weird, but I almost feel like I don’t need my memories anymore. I have Narvin.

Chapter Text

July 19th, 2019

Today was good. Really, really good. 

I don’t go a single day without thinking of the Doctor, or Benny, or Hex, or all of my friends on Gallifrey—or all of the above and more—but sometimes I get so caught up in the life I’m living now that it all seems like it happened to a different person.

But then sometimes, I get a very real reminder of my past. Just like I did today. 

It was the sound that alerted me first. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then it trumpeted so clearly through the open door of my office that I knew it was real. Completely abandoning a proposal I’d been drawing up to send to UNIT, I jumped out of my chair and ran out of my office, my feet carrying me faster than they had in years. 

At first, I couldn’t see that anything was different about the wide open room, other than the fact that Sorin bolted towards me and mewed. I picked him up and held him against my chest, trying to calm him, but the actions were all automatic. My mind was really focused on looking around and trying to figure out why I’d heard the sound of a TARDIS landing in my penthouse. 

Then, someone literally stumbled right out of a sofa against the wall. A sofa that hadn’t been there, last time I’d checked. 

“Narvin!” I only just remembered to put Sorin down before I sprinted over to Narvin and smothered him in a hug. This indescribable feeling of happiness and belonging welled up in me as I clung to him like he was a lifeline. There are so few people nowadays who know my past, so few people who I can be entirely honest with. 

But Narvin is one of them. And he was there. 

“Oh. Er…” Narvin stood stiff in my embrace, but I didn’t care. I hugged him all the tighter. 

“Where have you been?” As suddenly as I’d initiated the hug, I pulled away and punched him in the arm. “It’s been years this time! I was starting to worry!” 

“Ow!” Narvin rubbed the area of impact and frowned at me. I caught a hint of confusion in his expression, something deeper than why I’d punched him—he knew me well enough to expect things like that, anyway.

He searched my eyes, his frown deepening. His eyes misted over and his mouth hung open like he didn’t know what to say. 

No way. Is he about to get…emotional?  

“Narv?” I asked gently. “You okay? You look like… I dunno, like you’re seeing a ghost." 

A look of guilt crept onto his face. Guilt?! I was proper confused. After all the years I’d known Narvin, I’d hardly ever seen him look guilty; well, except for…

“I haven’t seen a look like that on your face since Romana chewed you out for letting me get a hold of your coffee stash…” Suddenly, his expression went completely blank. Like, actually unresponsive kind of blank—except for the fact that his eyes were about to bulge from his head. 

A whoosh of air passed through his lips as if he’d been punched in the gut. Once again, he didn’t seem to be capable of words. 

Fear bunched in my stomach. Something wasn’t right. “Okay, now you’re really weirding me out. What is up with you?” 

Sorin chose that exact moment to meow and Narvin jumped a little. Life returned to his face and he looked down at Sorin with doubt. 

But why wouldn’t Narvin recognise Sorin? 

I scooped Sorin into my arms and stroked his back. “Come on, it’s only Sorin. He likes you! Remember last time, he even let you rub his belly?” 

Narvin cleared his throat. “Oh, well, yes. Of course I do.” He tried to smile (tried being the operative word) and reached out to stiffly pat Sorin’s head. “Hello, Sorin.” 

“Ha! Gotcha!” I jerked Sorin away and set him back down on the ground. “Sorin doesn’t let anyone touch his belly, and you know that. Now fess up. You’re not Narvin, so who are you?” With one well-placed shove, I pushed Not-Narvin back onto the TARDIS/sofa and stood over him with my arms crossed. I kept the case containing my baseball bat in my peripheral, ready to grab it in a moment if I needed to. 

Not-Narvin’s mouth opened slightly in shock and he shook his head. “Ace, it is me.” 

Ace. Blimey. It threw me off guard and I couldn’t do anything but blink. When was the last time I’d heard that name?

“It’s…complicated…” He continued, fidgeting with something around his wrist, under his sleeve. 

I knew that movement well. “Let me see it.” 

Narvin froze. His face relaxed with understanding and he pulled his sleeve up to his elbow. I touched the rough-hewn beads wrapped around his wrist; they were genuine. 

“Leela’s necklace,” I murmured. “It really is you.” I let my arm fall back to my side and frowned at him. “Why were you acting all weird?” 

That guilty look came into his eyes again. Before he could answer, Sorin jumped up onto the sofa next to Narvin and he leaned away from the cat. He was really acting like he’d never even seen him before, whereas Sorin obviously still recognised his familiar scent. 

“Oh!” It hit me out of nowhere and I gasped, slapping my forehead. “Oh! Everything makes sense now!” I turned to Narvin and pointed at him with a grin. “You cheated, didn’t you?” 

“W-what?” He fidgeted, scooting away from where Sorin had settled right up against his leg. 

“You totally cheated!” I spread my arms as it all fell into place in my head. “In your timeline, this is the first time you’ve been here, but for me, you’ve come loads of times. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before! You already knew Sorin’s name two days after I’d gotten him. I just assumed it was because you had been keeping tabs on me or something—but it’s because this is your first time here!” I smiled, proud of myself. “Caught you, Narv.” 

Narvin sat back and let out a long sigh. “I taught you far too well, didn’t I?” 

“Don’t give yourself too much credit; I had the Doctor too, remember. Not to mention Benny, Leela, Romana…” Despite my teasing tone, Narvin still looked troubled. I sat down beside him and clasped my hands in my lap, softening my voice. “You’ve never been a good liar, Narvin. Did you really think you could pull this off without me figuring it out? You didn’t really even try.” 

“All of this…” He waved vaguely to the penthouse, his gaze lingering on the sprawling view of the sunset over London out the wide window. “And seeing you as you are now, it…it caught me off guard. I didn’t expect you’d be doing so well.” The lightest touch of a smile came across his lips. 

“Well, thanks!” 

“No, no. I meant…” He sighed again and paused, frowning as he seemed to be considering how to continue. “You mentioned an incident with Romana.” He uttered the words as innocently as possible, but his shifting gaze told me that remembered it all too well. 

I chuckled. “Yeah, ‘incident’ is one way to put it. ‘Getting completely annihilated by Romana’ is another.” 

“You’re just the same as always,” he muttered before he went on. “So, you…remember Gallifrey.” 

I frowned at him. “Of course I—” Then revelation struck me again even harder than before. “Ohhhhh.” It was long and drawn out this time, and I was the one who had to sit back. “The last time you saw me—it was just after…” Even after all this time, it was still difficult for me to think about that day without anger. “…after Brax. Wasn’t it?” 

He didn’t say anything, but the firm set of his lips told me enough. 

I continued in my train of thought. “You didn’t just skip ahead a bit to make sure I did okay for myself; you skipped ahead to see if I ever got my memories back.” A single chuckle burst out of my mouth. “Blimey, Narvin, you must really be worried to have done something like this.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like.” The words came out in a rush, like he’d been dying to say them. “To look at her—you—the last person I have left, and see nothing in her eyes. If I have no one to share these memories with, the memories of Leela and Romana, it’s like— like—”

“Like it never happened,” I finished quietly. I could understand, somewhat. It was like my memories of the Doctor. 

Narvin doubled over, running his fingers through his hair. “How desperate have I become?” he whispered. “Years ago, I would have never dreamed of doing this. But the war, it’s…” He made a frustrated noise and gripped fistfuls of his hair. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, then sat up and looked me in the eye, contrition written all over his face as he seemed to realise just how much he’d said. “Ace, I’m—”

“Nope. Don’t even think about saying you’re sorry, because you have nothing to be sorry for.” For once, I felt like the older one, the mentor, the comforter. Now I could see that Narvin was just like I had been all that time ago: insecure, anxious, just trying to find his way. He had taken care of me for so long, and now it was my turn to do the same for him. 

“I’ll tell you what you can say,” I continued. “You can tell me exactly why you’re here, and who cares about the laws of time or whatever. If I can at least give you peace of mind, that’s worth the universe to me.” 

His expression softened so much that I thought he would cry. And if Narvin cried, I would be next. So I reached for Sorin and placed him on Narvin’s lap, even as Narvin recoiled. 

“Hold the cat. It’ll make you feel better.” 

“But—”

“Do it.” Narvin looked so wary at the sight of Sorin rubbing his head against his hand that it made me laugh. He really was on edge. 

Knowing exactly what this situation called for, I stood. “Rest for a minute. I’ll get you a cuppa.” I smiled down at him. “Just like old times, eh?” 

“Yes.” He pulled his gaze from Sorin and met my eyes with a small smile. “Just like old times.” 

I’m not going to repeat everything Narvin told me; he was so worried about ruining the Web of Time with what he’d done that it would feel wrong. But as for me? I don’t mind saying that I probably caused some sort of paradox; I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just stand there and not help him. So, I steered him in the right direction and gave him a few words for my past self. Look, my memory’s going a bit nowadays, especially after everything I’ve lived through, but for all I know, my intervention now is what already brought my past self to where I am today. 

Blimey, I forgot how confusing all this time travel stuff is. 

I’d forgotten what Narvin was like in those days—he was prepared to do anything to help me. And I know he’s always cared about me, but I think it was really about more than that. I think he felt like he owed it to everyone he’d lost to help me. That’s why it was so important to him. 

I was the one person left who he could save. 

And I’m living proof that he did.

Chapter Text

September 18th, 1998

It’s better if I just tell you how it happened. 

“Ace!” Narvin burst into the flat one day like the world was on fire. I was still in my pyjamas, my hair in a towel, making some breakfast in the kitchen. 

“Oi!” I yelled, jumping at the suddenness of it all even if I instantly knew it was someone I trusted. “A bit of warning would be nice?” I said, turning around and pulling a pan off the stove. 

Narvin stopped in his tracks, his cheeks turning crimson as he looked me over. “Yes, well, er… I’m sorry.” There was a strange light in his eyes, an excitement that nearly bordered on crazed. “But look.” He crossed the rest of the distance between us and presented me with a small black cylinder. 

I frowned, studying the object in his hand before meeting his eyes again. “It’s a tube.” 

“It’s more than that. This is a Niandi memory stick—the Niandi have very strong mental powers, you see. They can even wipe their own minds, and they do it frequently when trying to forget embarrassing moments and other such things. But that means many people also attempt to recover their memories, so they have developed means to do so. They are rather expensive and difficult to find, especially if you’re not a Niandi, but—”

I knew where he was going with this. “I can get my memories back.” I could hardly believe it. I didn’t want to believe it in case it was a trick. I grabbed the item from Narvin’s hand and held it gingerly. Could it really be the answer to everything I’d been missing for the past year? 

I met Narvin’s eyes. “How did you find out about this?” 

Suddenly, he apparently found something on the floor very interesting and cleared his throat. “I…had some help. It’s best not to ask.” 

I chuckled. “What, did you break the law or something?” He made a tiny movement—barely anything, but I’d known him long enough this point to tell what it meant. My eyes widened. “No way, you didn’t.” 

“As I said, it’s better you don’t know.” 

I shrugged, figuring I probably shouldn’t think too hard about it. “As long as it works.” I examined the object closely, noting a red button on top. “So I just press this and…” 

“Yes.” His gaze snapped back up to meet mine. “Although I do need to warn you—I’ve heard it can be rather painful. You’re digging up memories that were never meant to be dug up. I’ve done extensive research and it won’t cause any damage to your mind—there are safeguards preventing that in this model, I made sure. The worst case scenario is it doesn’t work at all.” There was worry deep in his eyes, but I barely even noticed it. 

“It has to work,” I whispered. 

I pressed the button, smiled at Narvin. “See you on the other side.” 

And I collapsed.

My heart was beating a thousand times a second, and still I couldn’t take in enough air. I could hear Narvin’s voice calling my name, but he sounded distant, across an entire ocean. Voices overwhelmed me, voices I had never heard before, but at the same time, were so close to me. Narvin’s voice, and…Leela’s. Romana’s. 

Brax’s. 

The memories seared my brain, coming back all at once so I couldn’t focus on a single one. It was so much that I knew it would tear me apart. Years of my life suddenly came back to me in a moment, that tiny crack in my memories opening wide to admit thousands of faces and places and hurts and—

“Ace!” 

I gasped, blinking as I came back to myself. Narvin was right there in front of me, grasping my shoulders, his brow wrinkled in concern. 

But it wasn’t Narvin. Or, it was—but he was so much more than the Narvin I’d been hanging out with for the past year. Suddenly, his face held infinitely more meaning. Memories flashed by in my head, all the adventures we’d been on, all the long, boring days we’d spent in the CIA offices together. 

“Narvin!” I instinctively wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. He hugged me back, laughing breathlessly. “Narvin, I can’t believe I forgot you! How could I—”

I pulled away instantly and jumped to my feet. A startled expression crossed Narvin’s face as he scrambled up after me. 

“Brax.” The word was flat and came with a deep-rooted bitterness from my tongue. “It was Brax. He…” My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “How could he do that to me?” I opened my mouth, ready to hurl endless insults at him, but Narvin spoke first. 

“What happened?” 

With increasing anger, I explained about the Obscura and what Brax had done—and what he’d failed to do. Narvin listened with a stony expression on his face. When it came to the end, I could barely bring myself to say the words. The fear, the anger—it was all so real still, like Brax was standing right there with his hands on my head—

“Ace, it’s all right.” Narvin was there, grasping my arm. It turned my thoughts to other things, like how I’d never known Narvin to be really touchy, and here he was accepting hugs. In fact, he’d been rather unlike himself this past year.

“You stayed,” I said in wonder, my anger dissipating all at once—though part of me knew it was something I’d still have to deal with later. 

Narvin frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean you kept coming back to me. You didn’t have to do that—it must have hurt to see me like that. Why did you do it?” 

Narvin’s expression softened. His fingers lightly compressed my arm. “I needed to make sure you were safe. And…” He looked down. “You’re all I have left now.” 

I had a sudden realisation. “Leela, Romana—what happened?” 

But he just shook his head. A question for another time, but his response filled me with dread. 

“The Time War,” I murmured. “It’s still going on, isn’t it?” 

Narvin nodded. “And now, there is no winning. It’s only surviving.” 

“So let me come with you! I can help you!” 

He shook his head decidedly. “No, Ace. I meant what I said; I can’t lose you too.” 

I pushed his hand away and spread my arms. “You won’t! You know me, I’ll be careful!”

He gave me a look, so I rephrased. 

“Okay, so, as careful as I can be!” 

“Please, just listen to me this once?” There was that old, deep pain in his eyes again. “You have things to do here on Earth, Ace. What Brax did was despicable, but at least he’s spared you from the war.” 

Anger bubbled within me just at the sound of Brax’s name. “Oh, so you’re on his side?” 

“Of course not! But there’s still so much you could do here.” He gestured around us to, ironically, my cramped little flat. “Remember when you told me you wanted to help people? Has that changed?” 

“Of course it hasn’t—but I want to help you!” My hands clenched into fists. “Brax didn’t think I was strong enough to help him, and now you’re making the same mistake. You think I’m some weak little human, not good enough to fight in your war.” 

“Ace—”

“I’m capable of more than you could ever imagine!” I shouted. Somewhere, a tiny voice in my head told me that I wasn’t really at angry at Narvin, but overflowing with all the emotions emanating from my old-new memories. “I’ve fought in wars that still give me nightmares! I’ve lost more people than I can even remember! And—” A sob rose up in my throat, unbidden. “And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” Tears blurred my vision and I suddenly felt like every muscle in my body stopped working. Before I could crumple to the floor, Narvin caught me and carefully lowered me to the ground. 

“Ace,” he said softly, “I think you’re in shock. It’s only to be expected—” 

“Shut up,” I said amid my tears, trying to wipe them all away in vain. 

Narvin was quiet for a minute, and that was all it took for me to get my tears in check. I could only hope that my eyes weren’t puffy. 

“What if I told you,” Narvin said in a gentle tone, “that there are people here on Earth who need you more than I do.” 

“I’d say you’re just trying to get me out of the way.” 

“Ace.” He pressed his lips together, as if contemplating something. “I know this world needs you, that…” He sighed. “That the future won’t be the same without you here.” 

I sniffed, too overwhelmed to try and understand what he was saying. “So I don’t have a choice, is that it? Stupid Time dictates everything?” 

“Of course you have a choice, but so do I.” His eyes were soft with compassion. “I can’t let you come with me, Ace. And it’s not because I don’t think you’re strong enough—it’s because this world needs you. I…” He averted his gaze for a moment. “I need you. To keep me sane.” 

“To give you a home,” I said. I wasn’t sure where the words came from, but I could see it in his eyes. I didn’t know what had happened to Gallifrey, or what had happened to Narvin to bring him here, and maybe he’d never tell me. But I knew that he needed more than just a place to stay the night every now and then; he needed a home. Just like I did. 

Narvin blinked like my words had startled him. “I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” 

I could feel the anger falling away again and wondered how long these tumultuous emotions would last. “Look, I can’t really think straight right now; I think there are some pretty intense side effects to suddenly remembering years of your life. But I won’t put up a fight when you leave—at least not this time. As long as you promise to come back.” 

He didn’t hesitate before answering, “Always.”

His sincere reply stunned me for a moment before I continued: “And if I somehow am convinced to stay here on Earth, then wherever I end up, it’s your home too. Always,” I said, echoing his statement. 

It seemed to mean more to Narvin than he could even say, because he didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, but in a way it was like…like he was looking past me. Like he was seeing someone else. 

All I knew was I wanted to hug him again, so I did. And again, he didn’t object. 

Maybe Narvin has known it for a long time, but that was when I realised: the two of us are identical, and we always have been. It isn’t obvious on the outside, but deep down, at our roots, we understand each other in ways no one else does. 

That’s how I know how much he needs me; not just as a friend, but as something to ground him during the War. That’s how I know how much I need him, as the only thing to remind me of my life beyond the stars. 

That’s how I know he’ll come back.

And that’s how I know that I can survive life here on Earth. 

Chapter Text

Sunset over London was a beautiful sight. One of Ace’s favourite parts about the coming of evening was the brilliant light that streamed in through the window, casting everything in the penthouse into either bright hues of colour or dark shadows. 

One such shadow was cast over a figure seated before Ace, leaning back with his legs crossed like he owned the place. Ace could feel his eyes on her as she ensured that a leaf of pages, copied from an old and worn diary filled with her cramped, sloppy script, were all in order before slipping a paperclip on the top. She’d been meaning to do this for years, but she’d been too angry. She still was—boiling inside, in fact—but for the first time ever, she could see him without trying to punch him in the face. 

Barely. 

“And what are these papers exactly?” the voice asked with a detached air as if this was a normal everyday meeting. 

Ace swallowed back bitter hatred and tossed the papers into his lap. “It’s the story of how you put me through hell. Thought you might like to read it.” 

His expression was inscrutable, but he took the papers, gently folded them in half, and slid them somewhere inside his suit jacket. “I will.” 

“Spoiler alert, it has a happy ending, no thanks to you. At least there are some time lords with actual hearts.” She swallowed down bile in her throat—god, I can’t even talk to him without feeling sick—and continued on. “I want you to know that despite everything you did, I’m happy, and I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

He nodded once, still unaffected. “I’m glad to hear it.” 

Ace took another steadying breath. Why couldn’t he just show some kind of emotion? 

“One question, that’s it.” Ace tried to look him in the eye despite his expression being shrouded in darkness. “Did you ever really care about me?” 

A long silence stretched on like the vast distance that lay between them. Slowly, the figure stood, bringing his face into the light—grey, weathered, battered, but still with a cunning gleam in his eyes. He patted his chest over where he’d stashed the papers. “Would you have given me these if you thought I didn’t?” 

Ace’s hands balled into fists. Tears stung her eyes. Despite the many, many years that had passed since she’d first met Brax, he still managed to make her feel like a naive little kid. 

“Whatever,” she bit back with a child’s defence. “And for the record, no. I don’t think you ever did care about me. You couldn’t have.” With all that Ace had lived through, many memories were beginning to fade, but one of the most vivid ones was the vision of Brax standing over her like a judge, like God, like Hell itself reaching out to take away everything she’d ever had. Yes, the Doctor had used her too and played games with her in terrible ways—but at the very least, he had always been repentant. There had always been constricting guilt in his eyes, even if Ace had tried not to see it. 

But Ace had never seen the tiniest inkling of that in Irving Braxiatel’s expression—not even now, as she accused him. 

Another silence passed. Ace’s searched Brax’s eyes, wishing she could get into his head, only to realise that she had been in his head, once. It had been maddening. 

But it wasn’t an excuse. 

Ace crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, that’s it. You can go now.” 

“As you wish. I’ll be back to—”

“No. This is it, Brax. This is what I needed to do, and now that it’s done, I never want to see your face again. I’m done with games, I’m done with manipulation. Forever.” She wasn’t sure how she managed to utter the words which such calm when every time she’d practised them they had pitched into a shout. 

His eyebrows twitched. Ace saw a flicker of something in his eyes, gone in an instant. “If that’s what you want. But remember—I’m your only ticket off of this planet. Narvin certainly won’t take you anywhere.” 

“I know. I don’t want to leave; I have everything I need here. But if I ever did want to go back out there, I have the Doctor. The last thing he told me was that he would come back.” 

Brax huffed a brief chuckle as he turned to leave. “Well, if you’re counting on his word, I suspect you’ll be waiting a very long time.”

Saying goodbye to Brax was symbolic in more ways than one. Ace still hadn’t forgiven him—she wasn’t sure if she ever would—but after giving him the story of what she’d gone through, after telling him that she never wanted to see him again, she felt that angry, bitter corner of her mind finally rest. 

And perhaps the universe knew she was turning a page, or perhaps it was just chance—but the very next day, an umbrella with a question mark-shaped handle knocked at her door. 

Much later, the copied pages from Ace’s diary would be lying in an unknown corner of space, worn and crinkled from how often they’d been handled. 

And some pages even had stains that could have been mistaken for old tears.