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So..Your Body’s Changing?

Summary:

Rowan finds herself in a body of a nine year old. HER body, which is nine years old. She's pretty sure she's around her twenties. She's not even sure if Rowan is her real name. or why she's nine years old again. or you know...why her mum's JACKIE TYLER??? or that Rose isn't...Rose? Or that She is Rose. What?

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was February 14, 2005. Everyone had taken a half day off. It was Valentine’s day after all, even Rowan’s sister is at the pub with her boyfriend. Here she was though, Rowan, closing up after couples at her job at a fast food chain.

It’s not as though she resents them— they’re in-love, let them be. Sometimes, she feels as though she was made with too much love to give, and no one to give to. Honestly, she might as well have grown a second heart for all her troubles. She just wished that they didn’t stay until the last minute.

Anyway, she’s finished taking away the remaining perishables, and turning the chairs over the tables. She hears the bell jingle by the door and she sighs.

“We’re closed, can’t you read?” She groans, storming to the door to point out the sign on the door, not even entertaining the man.

“Oh, sorry.” The man says sheepishly and she freezes.

Rowan freezes because she knows that voice. It’s the voice that she’s been waiting to show up since she landed on the doorsteps of Bucknall House.

“I’m not orderin’,” he says, looking at a handheld device with a pinched expression. He turns to a little plastic piggy bank sitting on the counter, and his device beeps loudly. It pulls Rowan out of her shock, and spurs her to get behind him.

“What is it? What’s that?” She streamlined her questions in panic, “What are you doing here? Why are you here?” He only ignores her and cautiously stepped closer towards the piggy bank. It was a pig, barely bigger than her arm, halfway filled with coins and notes. The Doctor points his Sonic Screwdriver at it and suddenly the piggy bank was leaping towards them.

Rowan is embarrassed to admit that she did let out a loud shriek, as she uses the Doctor as a shield. The Doctor catches it with one arm, disabling it with his Sonic. He then turns to Rowan, a quirked brow and a smug grin in his face, tossing her the piggy bank. She holds it at arms length, as if it would come alive any second. She was intensely focused on it that she didn’t notice the Doctor entering the stock room until the doors closed on him.

“Oi! You aren’t allowed back there— oh, for god’s sakes!” She groans as she runs after him, piggy bank in hand. She finds him standing a few feet away from their massive stock of promotional toys. Around the corner were mascot animatronics. With the way her evening was turning out, she’s already anticipating a Freddie Frazbear situation, “I’m  gonna get in so much trouble!”

The device in the Doctor’s hand beeps once. Then twice. And then it doesn’t stop. Rowan’s hand finds the Doctor’s arm, tapping him to bring attention, tugging him back as she slowly shuffles backwards.

“I—I have to lock up. We should leave.” She suggested nervously, her eyes never straying from the mascots. The Doctor points his Sonic towards them, and a sound of cranking can be heard throughout the room.

We should run!” The Doctor grabs her free hand just as the mascots start getting up, and the little toys starts toppling over one another. He drags them both out of the stock room, closing the doors while Rowan pushes a decorative couch in front of it.

Whatever it was on the other side of the door didn’t deter from banging and pushing on the door. It punches a whole on the door. Rowan jumps in fright, before she grabs onto one of the chairs and holds it over her head.

“What—what are you doing with that?” The Doctor turns to her with a look of amusement and confusion.

“I’m…I’m throwing it at that thing.” She replied, eyes blown wide.

“It’s not going to work.” He said bluntly.

“I feel safer.” She admits, not bothering to let the chair go. The Doctor only laughs dryly.

“Tell you what? I’ve got something better.” He grins widely as he procures a block coupled with intersecting wires.

“What?” Rowan gawks at recognition of the object. The Doctor takes the chair from her arms and discards of it, while dragging them both towards the exit. The stock room door is almost shattered to pieces, the animatronics’ arms clawing out.

“I’m going to blow them up!” He presses a few buttons on the device before throwing it behind them. They ran fast across the streets until they are a considerable distance away from the Fast Food chain.

“Alright?” The Doctor asked, panting.

“Yeah. Yeah, m’fine. You?”

“Top of the world!” He grins as he dusts himself off, prompting Rowan to do the same, “Now you, go on home. Forget about this, forget what you saw here. And don’t tell anyone, because if you do, you’ll put them in danger.” He flashes her a dumb grin, and he runs, disappearing off to a random street corner. Then he returns, still a huge dumb grin on his face.

“I’m the Doctor, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Rowan.” She answers in a daze.

“Nice to meet you, Rowan. Run for your life!” He disappears off the street. This time

Rowan was thrown off her feet by a loud boom and car alarms blaring. She feels a sting on her palms, and she thinks that she has scratches on her knees. She smells burning, and plastic melting in the air, mixed with the smell of asphalt and rain. She had curled into herself, hugging the piggybank close to her middle as if protecting a child.

She starts to stand up, racing back to her flat. She just made it through the threshold when she realised that the piggy back no longer jiggled with coins.

“...my tips.” she says mournfully.



Rowan enters her flat with a defeated look, which soon morphed into surprise when she finds her mum pacing in living room with the landline on her hand. It wasn’t uncommon for the Tylers to stay over at one place, but that usually happened at her mum’s flat where her sister still lived.

“Mum?” She says, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Rose! Rowan,” her mum cried, hugging her tightly, “You’re alive! Where have you been?”

“I had a late shift. Told you about it yesterday.” She excused.

“I’ve been phoning! They said your shop’s blown to bits!”

“Well…I think I left my phone in there. I was long gone before it blew up. I’m okay, mum.” Her mum sniffled, wiping her cheeks from tears.

“Well, I’m gonna call your sister. She’s out with Mickey, looking for you.”

“I thought they were on a date?” Rowan asked, flopping back on the couch. The plastic piggy was beside her as she brushed it absently.

“They heard ‘bout it. You know how your sister is.”

“I’m…I’m going to bed, ma.” She said, walking to her room. She faintly hears her mum tell her ‘Goodnight’ as she ranted away on the landline.

Rowan flopped on her bed, tossing the plastic piggy on the floor somewhere. She felt like crying after the events of today. She hadn’t expected to meet the Doctor today, much less that the she had faced Autons.

She groaned in frustration. Her job’s blown up, her things were left behind in the shop, she scraped her knee, and her tips had gone plastic. She’s finding today just a little bit hard. God, she’s going to hit the Doctor so hard when he comes by.

Rowan knows that she was grunting about materialistic things, but those were hers. She worked hard to finally have something to claim as her own, and not just because she was thrusted into this new world under the name of someone else. And sure they were easily replaceable ––but it was the principle of it all! She falls asleep grumbling about stupid Autons, and stupid Doctor, blowin’ up the stupid shop, fucking hate mondays. She dreams about orange skies that night.


The next morning came by peacefully. Strictly speaking, Rowan doesn’t own an alarm clock. She has one, single, analogue clock strategically hanging on the kitchen wall which she doesn’t lay eyes on as much as she should. No, instead, she has a sister.

“Rowan!” she heard the front door slamming as heavy steps echoed in her flat, “Ro-wa-a-an! Ro-ro! Yoo-hoo!” Yes. Her name is Rowan. And she has a sister, who owns an alarm clock, and therefore is awake at seven o’ clock in the morning. She hears her bedroom door open before a weight was thrown across her body with an oomph.

“Bloody fuckin’ ––Heather!” her shouts were muffled by the duvet in her face, and her sister’s weight pinning her down, “Gerroff, or I’m kickin’ you off!”

“I’ll tell mum.” her sister laughed as she shifted her weight for a moment, before bolting out Rowan’s room, cackling, like a witch. She hears rustling in her kitchen and groans as she followed her sister out. She drags her dressing gown by the scruff on the floor, throwing it on the sofa when she sees Heather making toast in her kitchen.

“Doesn’t mum feed you?” Rowan glares as Heather enjoys her toast. Truthfully, she only has a toaster for her sister’s use.

“M’yeah, but I like your foods better.” she replies, although gibberish, as she spoke between chews.

“I’ll tell mum you said that.” Rowan laughs. She kicks her slippers off as she laid down on the sofa, closing her eyes for a bit. She feels her sister nudge her after a while, “What?”

“You’ve got that thing later.”

“So eloquent, Heads.”

“Don’t call me that,” her sister rolls her eyes, “with your ballet class. Don’t forget.”

Rowan only hummed in response as she started to dose off on the couch. If it weren’t for her sister’s scandalized yell, she would have gone back to sleep. She walked towards the front door, where she caught the rest of her sister’s conversation.

“Hang on! You were trying to break in.” her sister accused.

“I was looking for something.” the ire was evident from the stranger —the Doctor’s —voice.

“Yeah, I bet! Looking for a way in!” Heather yelled, “Rowan!” her sister jumped as she came into view, “This pervert’s tryin’a get in your flat!” her sister spread her arms in attempt to hide Rowan from view, which did not help as she was taller than Heather.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asked Rowan, accusingly.

“I live here, duh.” Rowan deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“What’d you do that for?” his face screwed up in confusion. Rowan only made an unimpressed expression, “I must’ve got the wrong signal. You're not plastic, are you?” he knocked onto Heather’s forehead, who stumbled backwards in surprise. Rowan levelled him with a stare, which made him think twice before he retreated, “No? Bonehead. Bye, then.”   

The Doctor turns to leave, only to be ushered inside as Rowan’s arm shot out from behind her sister, pulling him by the lapels of his jacket.

“Get in.” Rowan told him firmly, as she pointed deeper into the flat, closing the door. The Doctor pulled a face as he straightened his jumper, following behind the woman. Heather pestered her sister with questions about the pervert, which the Doctor did not appreciate being referred as.

“He’s from the inquiry, about last night.” the lie rolled smoothly on her tongue, as she snagged her dressing gown from the sofa, wrapping it around her sleep clothes. She disappeared in her room to retrieve the plastic piggy bank.

“What, are you getting compensated?” Heather asked, lingering on her doorway, “Mum kept mumbling about it last night. Something about emotional damage or whatever,” she turned to the Doctor, “She deserves compensation.”

“Oh, we’re talking millions.” he went along, jokingly, although it only spurred Heather to glare even more.

“You’re starting to sound like mum,” she shooed her off, “Go make us tea.” her sister begrudgingly complied.

The Doctor was left in the living room, snooping, like a normal person would.Rose Angelina Tyler’, he mumbled, reading the mail packet. He picks up an old, tattered, pocket-book and sift through its contents in a flash.

“...Interesting.” he remarked as he read the annotations Rowan had made. Suddenly, the book was snatched from his hands.

“Oi, do you mind?” Rowan stood in front of him, book in one hand, and the plastic pig in one, both knuckles resting on her hip. He cringed and smiled at her sheepishly, feeling as though he had been caught doing something wrong. She only rolled her eyes and handed him the plastic pig, “My tips.”

“What about them?”

“You turned ‘em into plastic.” she huffed.

“...you kept the plastic...for the tips?” he narrowed his eyes with incredulity, turning the plastic in his hands before placing it on the wooden coffee table, “Why’s it nicked by the ear?”

“Well, I had to pin it down somewhere! I didn’t want to risk it smothering me in my sleep.” the Doctor raised his brows in amusement.

“But you took it home?” Rowan made a face at that, “What was your plan then? Shake it till it cough up money?”

“Was gonna hunt you down, till you turn it back.” she shrugged.

“Well, good luck on that.” he gave her a lopsided grin, moving to grab the plastic, when it activated and leaped towards his face.

Admittedly, Rowan didn’t have the best reaction time record, given that she jumped onto the sofa first when the plastic came alive, before she moved to help the Doctor get the thing away from his face. She tugged at it, grumbling about ‘how can something so small be so ––fuckening?!’.

Just in time, Heather was coming out of the kitchen, carrying three mugs of tea in her hands, like a barbarian. She rolls her eyes as she finds the Doctor and Rowan ‘playing’ with a plastic toy. She sets their mugs on the coffee table, while she sips hers, flopping on the armchair across them.

“Who are you, then?” Heather asked the Doctor, “are you from the corporation or something?”

Rowan and the Doctor, on the other hand, would have groaned at Heather’s density, were it not for the problem at hand. Or at face, more precisely. The plastic finally gives out with a final tug from Rowan, and catapults into Heather’s lap.

“¡Ay, dios!” Rowan exclaimed as she stumbled backwards onto her bum, sitting on the coffee table. She twisted around and crawled above the table, reaching for the plastic on her sister’s lap. The Doctor, in the same vein, reached across from above her, their back and chest pressed against each other. In a weird sort of way, the three of them almost looked like a renaissance painting. Especially as the plastic jump to smother Heather in the face.

Heather screamed, the Doctor and Rowan collapsed on the table from the lack of momentum, the tea mugs were thrown off the table. Rowan attempted to get up, only to bump heads with the Doctor. She hears a groan from behind her and automatically utter an apology as she wriggled from beneath him, the Doctor rolling off to the side. Heather was still screaming.

“I got it.” Rowan mumbled, tugging at the plastic, actively holding it in place. It stilled suddenly mid-tug, causing her to stumble backwards again, the Doctor catching her before she fully fell.

“There, I got it. It’s harmless.” he says, holding his sonic screwdriver in one hand with a grin. Rowan huffs and thrusts the plastic into his hand.

“A warning would’a been nice,” she comments, moving towards her sister’s side, “Alright?”

“What was that?” Heather asked, eyes blown wide, “What the fuck, was that?”

“It’s a thing.” Rowan replied, wiping the tea that soiled her sister’s clothes, “Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about —hold on!” Heather shot up from her seat and did a mad dash towards the door, taking her sister with her, “You can’t just go swannin’ off!” she yelled after the Doctor.

“Yes, I can. Here I am, this is me,” he says dryly, running down the hall, towards the lift, “swanning off. See you!” he moves to close the doors, but Heather was faster. She drags Rowan with her inside the lift as the doors closed.

“You’re not from the company, are you?” Heather asked, throwing an accusatory finger towards the Doctor.

“Nope.” he gave her a tight smile, starting to get annoyed.

“What was that? It was moving, it was all up in my face!”

“Ten out of ten observation.” the Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Is this some perverted scheme of yours to get to my sister? Oi, mister! Don’t even think about it!” Heather snatched the plastic pig from his grasp and inspected it, while the Doctor let out an offended noise. Rowan for her part, choked on air as a laugh shocked its way to her throat.

“Give me that!” the Doctor tried to swipe it from Heather’s hands, but she stepped back faster.

“I’ve got you now. This must be some sort of video thing, you perverts online are using,” she accused him, turning the plastic in her hand, “You’ve had this sitting in the cafe, watching her!”

“I am not a pervert!” he defended himself, making another attempt to swipe at the plastic.

“Stand back, I swear to god,” Heather raised her fists, “I’m not a black-belter like Rowan but I will hurt you!”

Rowan broke into a round of laughter, clutching her belly with a hand to her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. She leaned towards her sister as her laughter mellowed out, taking the plastic from her hands and tossing it towards the Doctor. Perhaps, she was to blame. She did spend more than ten years teaching Heather how to defend herself from perverts.

“God, I didn’t even think that!” she snorted, “Never change, Heads.”

“What, he’s not a pervert?” Heather asked her sister as the lift opened.

“No, I think he’s just a little weird.” remarked Rowan. Heather eyed her sceptically for a moment, before running after the Doctor, pestering him with questions. Rowan lagged behind them a little, walking leisurely. She had to stop herself from gawking as she saw the TARDIS, in full glory, just a few paces from there.

“Really though, Doctor,” She hears Heather say as she come to a stop, “Who are you?”

The Doctor stops in his tracks, looking back at them. He walks back to where Heather stopped, just as Rowan caught up to them.

“Do you know like we were saying about the Earth revolving?” He took the girls hands in each hand, “It’s like when you were a kid. The first time they tell you the world’s turning, and you can’t quite believe it because everything looks like it’s standing still? I can feel it,” he holds his gaze with Rowan for a little longer, before he turns to Heather.

“The turn of the Earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling ‘round the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour…and I can feel it.” He said.

“We’re falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go…” the Doctor squeezed their hands and let it go, “That’s who I am. Now, forget me, Rose Tyler. Go home.”  

Heather was staring down at her hands as the Doctor walked away. Rowan followed his retreating back.

“…Don’t call me Rose!” She yelled after him.

Notes:

How is it? Come on tell me I’m good cus big brain moment right there.

Also, it’s funny tht Im writing about a bombing on Feb 14, 2005,,, and I absolutely forgot how i almost went kaput during the valentines day bombing in 2005…yippee