Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my Doctor Who Advent Calendar of 2015!

For this story I've teamed up with TraditionalGaily, so watch out!

With every new day there'll be a new chapter uploaded; be sure not to miss any of them :D

Reviews are highly valued, so feel free to spill your thoughts!
And thanks for reading!

Thin grey mist curled upon the country lane, distorted and reshaped by every warm current, every slight breeze, every car that travelled through the fog.

The Doctor stood in the wet grass, dewdrops hanging from every leaf above him, staring into the grey nothingness in front of him.

He was waiting for something; he just knew it.
Something was about to happen very soon. He should be here. Or somewhere around here...

He turned. Another car had passed, dispersing the foggy air.
And it was getting dark.

Aimlessly he wandered about the forlorn pasture, following the country lane beside him, trotting until his feet hurt, continuing to amble along ponderously.
Every sound was drowned and killed by the thick and heavy fog.
And the darkness was spreading...

The Doctor came to halt, staring at the intersection in front of him.
Now, which way to go?

He breathed in deeply. He was called. He was needed.
Somewhere.
Someone was possibly waiting for him.
If only he could remember...

The Doctor extricated a grubby paper from his coat pocket, reading the scribbled note thoughtfully
"Pawnbroker's Daily, 24 Hatton Wall;"
and in the same handwriting, but in big letters and double underlined
" 1st December!"

The Doctor scratched his head, the numbness that had held his thoughts in its grip draining from his mind.
Of course. That's where he was supposed to be. Hatton Wall.
He stared at the gloom, wonderingly.
Wherever that was...

He wasn't quite sure what it was he should pick up on the 1st December.
But he'd definitely find out as soon as he got there.
Hopefully there, he added to himself as he went along the wrong way, he'd find out who he was, too.

Captain Jack Harkness stood in front of the colourfully decorated mall, staring at the flashing lights with disdain.
"When I asked you to accompany me to my trip to London" Jack growled and glared at the bags Gwen was carrying "I hadn't had Christmas shopping in mind."

"I know, Jack" snapped Gwen reproachfully "but you said we could take a break."
"But when I said that we could take a break" Jack went on "I meant that we could get something to eat."
Gwen strode to the black SUV, cramming in the bags amongst packages and other newly gained belongings.
"Incidentally, why didn't you get something to eat while I was shopping?" asked Gwen, her hands now akimbo.
Jack grumbled something Gwen couldn't quite catch before clapping his hands together and saying:
"Alright. Let's have lunch."
"It's a bit late for lunch" Gwen said as they walked down one of the shopping streets.
"It's never too late to have lunch" contradicted Jack and laughed in his usual heartily manner.

"Let's have something with..." Gwen began before noticing that Jack had stopped in front of a large shop-window.
She smiled. "And you told me that we're not here to go shopping."
"I'll be right back" was all Jack had to say before dashing through the door, with its archaic doorbell tinkling.

Gwen regarded the window thoughtfully. She'd never liked these kinds of shops; the display was littered with old jewellery, exotic artefacts or one or two small statues that had been costlier than expected.
And, no matter where you went, there was always a limitless amount of watches...

Jack was back after a minute or two. At least, someone who looked like Jack, Gwen came to notice. But if you knew him then you'd realize that he was like a different person, with the familiar laughter lines erased by an expression of grave concern and a nervous twitch around his lips.
Gwen furrowed her brow and grasped Jack's hand, alarmed by his disconcertment.
"What's the matter, Jack?" she asked quietly.
"I'll get back to the car" he said in a distant voice, his facial expression getting darker every moment.
"Jack?"
"I'm... there's something I have to..." Jack mumbled while slowly turning, his eyes staring penetratingly at the distance, focussing on objects only he could see.
"Jack, what's happened?" Gwen went on persistently.
As Jack turned, his eyes only rested on her for a second before a look of deep sorrow swept across his face.
"I left my phone in the car" he explained, half-heartedly "I have to make a call."

Jack headed back, moving as if caught in a dream; there was no sound from the noisy street, no people in front of him.
The world had become a mindless grey fog.
His hand clamped over the safely wrapped bundle.

It ticked dutifully.

Yeah, that was the problem, wasn't it? Apart from the rain of course, the Doctor thought while ambling along the wet lane.
He didn't know who he was. He'd woken up somewhere around here.
But he hadn't risen from sleep. The next thing, and incidentally first thing, he knew was that he was standing in a benighted forest, staring at nothing in particular.
And he just kept on moving, without any sense of direction.

A loss of memory, of some sort.
Dissociative amnesia, his mind suggested; a psychological trauma as possible cause. Or even post-traumatic amnesia.
So it's a repressed memory, right? Maybe after an accident of some sort?
Could be, his inner voice agreed.

The Doctor patted his pockets to find them almost empty.
The remains of his memory could be held in one hand; possibly a bad sign, he thought:
The aforesaid note with the marked date, a pair of glasses (which meant that he was a four-eyes, bloody brilliant) a futuristic pen that didn't work and some small coins of dubious origin, assumed foreign.
He couldn't even read the bloody figures embossed on them.

The Doctor shoved his belongings back into his coat; another car passed him.
Alright.
Let's summarize what we know: I'm in the middle of nowhere, no money, no phone, no memory, no definite destination, I don't know who I am and I'm not quite sure whether or not I should be worried because it's getting dark and I haven't yet found out if I'm afraid of the dark.
So, the best sensible thing in this situation to do is...
Run.

The Doctor obeyed.
It must have come out of nowhere; somewhere out of the deepest corners of his mind.
But it had sounded familiar.

After a short distance of about 10 yards he halted abruptly, staring into the mist ahead.
The headlights were still there.
A car had stopped beside him, a window opened slowly.

"Oi! Wanna hitch a ride?"
The Doctor came closer and lowered his head a bit. He stared a young driver in the face.
"I'm...sorry, I... Could you please tell me in which direction you are heading?" he asked meekly.
The man gave him an enquiring glare.
The Doctor took a deep breath, rearranging the words in his head again.
"Could you take me to London, please?" he tried again.
The driver started to smile "Get in, then."

"Thanks" mumbled the Doctor. He took the seat beside the driver before they set off into the wet darkness.

The Doctor regarded the scenery thoughtfully.
He must have been here before. Everything seemed so... familiar.
As if he'd been here all his life. Most of it, at least...

"Got any family there?" the driver asked conversationally.
The Doctor set beside him, a strange silence radiating from him. The sky seemed darker than before.
After careful consideration he replied: "No. Not anymore."
And he leaned back in his seat to evade the driver's gaze, blinking back the tears.

The sudden feeling of loneliness swept over him silently. The Doctor felt as if he'd been pushed into an icy ocean, the dark waves too high for him to even catch a glimpse of the shore.

And what he knew was that he knew nothing at all as his mind was cold white oblivion.