Prologue - dedicated to LilCosette.

(I'm sort of sorry to say that this is the third regeneration of this story, but not actually sorry because it was broken and needed fixing. No changes should be immediately obvious but I promise it's important later!)

Ghosts of the night mist, set me free.

Forgive, until the past is called

Wisdom, and history can be

told in some last redeeming world

The Present

This is just getting weird.

There are so many people here. So why do I keep seeing him? It's the same man, walking past right now. Same eyes. Beautiful eyes. No, don't look at them, might be hypnotic for all I know. But it's the same face. I keep seeing him today. Not "cute" - and definitely not Bri's kind of handsome.

Briohney - she gives her opinion on the nearest guy without you even having to ask – reckons he's too "serious mysterious". She likes to use pairs of like rhyming words to categorise men. Mind you, mostly they end up not actually rhyming and sounding really lame like 'hot rod' or something, so she was actually quite happy with that one. Serious mysterious sums him up perfectly. Kind of. Ish.

I mean, he's not too serious, I don't think. Like he smiles at me when I look at him, like just now. But when he looks at me.. it's weird y'know? Kind of sad-eyed while smiling. And it's a friendly 'hello' smile, not hitting on me like Lord Tony of the Kitchen Sink. Tony reckons he's got it all. His surfie-blond hair comes from chemicals I reckon, but he's got a point. Kitchen workers get to sneak extra food. Wish he'd stop trying to put his hand up my shirt.

Where was I? Oh right.

The one with the blue eyes. Stop it with the eyes. What else? His nose is a bit big, and his ears stick out like extra limbs. His hair is cut so short - not popular here - but then he doesn't look like he'd care one little bit. He wears a jacket, which is even weirder. Leather is way too rare but it looks so like it, even if it looks worn and a bit big for him. Like a bloody scarecrow. It's like he wasn't meant to be here.

Who is he?

'Mornin'. Lovely day.' He said. His expression was friendly enough.

'Hello. How's things?'

'Can't complain. What about you?'

'Not bad, not bad. Sorry, I didn't catch your name.'

'Maybe because I haven't told it to you yet.'

She couldn't resist laughing. 'Alright. What's your name then sweetie? I'm Tassy by the way.'

'I'm the Doctor.'

'You work in Medical? Interesting.' That explained the hair. 'What's your name?'

'The Doctor. That's it.'

'You're kidding, right? Not Dave the Doctor? Or Bob the Builder or something?'

'That's what I'm called. The Doctor. Really.' He seemed serious.

'Okay.. hello, The Doctor! How are you, The Doctor?'

He grinned. Forget your clichéd 1000-watt smile, it was like a second bloody sun in the sky. She couldn't help smiling stupidly back. Bri was probably wondering why she'd stopped for a pointless chat, thus risking being late for work. Especially just to talk to Mr "Serious Mysterious".

'Just Doctor then.' He said.

'Fine. Hello, Doctor then.' He graced her with a slight chuckle. She cringed inwardly at her pathetic joke. Then decided to change the subject. Quickly.

'So, how come I keep seeing you around today? It's like permanent déjà vu - or whatever it's called. Bloody archaic words..'

Despite her efforts at light-heartedness, there was awkward silence.

'You know, you remind me of someone I know.' He said, after a moment.

'And is that good or bad?'

'Depends. She's gone now.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Uh, when was this?'

'Not long-'

'I'm so sorry…'

On impulse, she gave him a quick hug. It felt only natural to do so. He stiffened in surprise before returning it briefly. He still looked sad. Ah well, she had better be off before she made a bigger fool of herself.

'Thanks, but she's, uh, not actually dead or anything. Just wandered off.' He said awkwardly.

'Oh..' Her face betrayed her and went red. Talk about famous last words. 'Erm..'

'And you'll be late in a sec. Off you go then. Thanks for the hug. See you 'round!' He grinned and turned away.

'Uh, yeah.. good luck finding her then!' She called out.

'I'm workin' on it!'

Nine (relative) years earlier…

Rose didn't know what had woken her up. Her new life started in absolute, silent darkness. It was the first thing she recognised. The only reason she became aware of her own physical self was because her muscles ached slightly, as if they were a bit stiff. Her first emotion was curiosity. Why was it so dark here? Where was here? She tried to move, but felt a physical barrier inches away.

The second thing she recognised was a coffin. That being the one she was inside.

Her second emotion was confusion. She tried to think of why a living person would be put one of those. The only answer seemed to be 'because the occupant is dead, or will be'.

Her third emotion was fear.

The title is named after a song by John Farnham – which I regret somewhat but tis too late to change the name now or I'll confuse all my (cough) adoring fans (cough cough).

Much as I like to pretend I don't care, I do. Please review! I have a policy of checking out and reviewing at least one fanfic written by someone who has reviewed mine. Incentive anyone?

Oh by the way, the poem thing is by Gwen Harwood. Expect one of those at the beginning of each chapter. And thanks to BrilliantCrescentStar for her appreciation of the relevance of the song titles. Except I decided putting in bits of verse/lyrics would be more obvious and specific. Meh.

And Doctor Who is not mine or Chris would definitely have been bribed/hypnotised/seduced into signing a contract in blood stating that he would never ever consider leaving before at least 5 years as the Ninth Doctor. But I bet you all now wish I did!