Summary- Little Red Riding Hood wonders through the woods and is approached by the Big Bad Wolf. Only in this story, Red Riding Hood is the Wolf and they share the same ending, one they want to change. Armed with knowledge and the name Bad Wolf following her, Rose finds herself skipping through time at the worst moments, all the while trying to keep her life in order.


Authors Note- Gah, I finished series eight and I'm basically withering away here while waiting for nine but let me tell you, I have no idea why some Whovians don't like the twelfth doctor, Peter Capaldi is amazing. True he's no David Tennant but god, do I love him. Anyway, I got bored of waiting and plot bunnies can not be ignored. I apologize for any mistakes made as well as lack of English terms. I'm from Australia so...yuh.


Disclaimer- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, no. Seriously. Just no.


Warnings- Starts far before Rose, timey wimey- so somethings will not be in order considering Rose jumps about, Horrible grammar and spelling, yada yada.


Chapter One- Little Red Riding Hood


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Rose is five when it first happens. Of course, she didn't know it had happened at all. What she did know in all her blonde pigtail glory was that it was story time in Jericho Bumblebee's Pre-school. Children ranging from three to five all lay down on cheep, small, plastic wrapped mattresses with their own selection of whatever blanket, pillow and soft toy, all crowded and hushed waiting for the teacher to begin her story.

Rose is one of the children closest to the mousy looking teacher, the pictures in the thin book Mrs. Appleyard held in her lap easier to see this way. She is on her side, neck bent and legs brought close to her chest so she can curl protectively around her puppy teddy, small arms cradling it like a mother with her newborn child. Her red fleece blanket is brought up to her nose, hiding the inanimate puppy and keeping them both warm. Rose thinks she likes this blanket even if it isn't pink- her favourite colour.

Mrs. Appleyard delicately clears her throat, more for the purpose of capturing any wandering attention than anything else.

She isn't like anyone Rose has ever met before. Nothing like the other ladies that she has seen around home. Mrs. Appleyard's hair looks healthy, it isn't dry looking or broken. Nor is it the harsh blonde hair Rose see's everywhere with dark roots coming through, it's a light brown and cut short. She doesn't wear makeup like Rose's mum does or Kit and Katey from next door. Mrs. Appleyard doesn't wear a single sequin or tassle and Rose has never seen her in track pants. Rose imagines she'll dress like Mrs. Appleyard one day, all flowing skirts, quality jeans without frays, pretty blouses and instead of bulky trainers or six inch heels she'll wear Mrs. Appleyard's shiny ballet flats or her black boots.

But it isn't how she wears her hair or what she dresses like that sets Mrs. Appleyard apart from anyone she has ever seen before, it's her eyes. They aren't any different from other colourwise- them being a standard brown. But they're soft looking and nothing like eyes of people on the estate whose orbs seem to hide chips of ice gained from their less than impressive life.

Even Rose, who is young knows what it's like to have to live on a meal a day for a month before Jackie Tyler can afford more and knows what alleys to avoid while out and about. She knows that showers shouldn't be more than three minutes long and you should always get up early if you want one with warm water. She knows that she should play with Shareen near the estate and around lights until it hits mid afternoon so that when she gets home their wont be any of her mums boyfriends around. She knows new looking cars around home were not a good thing and she knew that throwing bread to pigeons was a big waste. But most estate knew this at one point or another.

To Rose, Mrs. Appleyard looked like the kind of person who ate whenever she felt like it, took long relaxing bubble baths, drove a fancy new beetle and took her nieces and nephews every weekend to a pond with a full loaf of bread to feed the ducks. Because of this, Rose found her fascinating. So different from what she knows and everything she wants to one day be like- different.

Rose is proud of where she comes from. Being an estate girl make her tough but she wants a life where she can buy her mum all the pretty things she wants and then all her boyfriends would stay away. She wants to be like her dad, to give her and her mum the life her dad would have given them.

The book cracks open and Rose's whisky orbs dart to the first picture on the title page and she gasps in delight. Right there is her, Rose. She's older and taller with long blonde hair falling past her shoulder blades. Her eyes are hidden by the dark red hood she wears but Rose can see the smile she's made her own sitting on the pictures lips. Her tongue touches teeth in a bright, amused yet somehow manic grin and on one of her arms sits a basket full of flowers. Roses.

Rose gives another delighted gasp as she notices the large wolf standing on it's hind legs watching Picture-Rose with golden eyes from behind a tree in the shadows. Tearing off her blanket she looks down at her puppy with an excited smile.

"S' me!" She squeals, one hand pressing her puppy to her chest, the other outstretched to point at the book.

As always, Mrs. Appleyard remained patient. "It is me." The older woman corrected warmly, "And I suppose she does look a little like you, doesn't she? What do you think class, does Red Riding Hood look like Rose? "

The resting children all clammer up from there sleeping places to crawl closer to the book. Some nod their heads, others protest and Shareen smiles at Rose, nudging her in the ribs with a little laugh. "In a story book, you."

"You are in a story book." Mrs. Appleyard corrects over the debating children.

It's a nod to the future Shareen's character when the little one half rolls her eyes and grumbles.

With a light smile Mrs. Appleyard calms the children and sends them off to their places once more. "Shall we begin?" She waited for the children to coax her on before starting the story.

"Once upon a time, in a past, that once upon a time, didn't exist," Mrs. Appleyard frowned thoughtfully at the page, mouthing the first line of the story to herself in confusion before continuing anyway. "There was a little girl who lived in a village near a forest. Whenever she went out she wore a red riding cloak so everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood. One afternoon, Little Red Riding Hood was asked by her mother to run an errand for her."

The page was turned to reveal Little Red Riding hood's hidden eyes peering up at an older blonde woman whose curls piled up high on her head. This Red Riding hood really is little, compared to the one on the front of the book and Rose smiles thinking that her mum looks pretty in the book, dressed in an antique old dress with an apron tied around her waist.

"'Go straight to town, don't dawdle and don't talk to strangers, the woods are dangerous.' Her mother tells her as she places money in Little Red Riding Hood's basket. Red Riding Hood only tells her mother she will be perfectly fine and promises to do as she's told, having done this particular errand a few times before for her mother. But Red Riding Hood soon forgets her promise and gets distracted along the way, as she plays in the sun she never notices the shadow that had crept up behind her."

A few children gasp, including Rose who despite everything still felt excited.

Mrs. Appleyard turned the page once more. This time a large wolf stood before Little Red Riding Hood, bowing dramatically for the small blonde, its golden eyes alight with mischief and mirth.

"'I've been waiting for you, Little Red Riding Hood,' the wolf say to the girl. 'Have you? Whatever for?' Little Red Riding Hood asks, happily as the wolf grins. 'I've come to-" Mrs. Appleyard stops suddenly with a disappointed frown and looks at the children apologetically.

"Why'd ya stop miss?" One girl calls out from the blanket fort she had made.

"Ah," She pointed at the written part of the story, "Someone has scribbled it out with crayon, I can't read it." She flipped through the pages, each passing one making the disapproving expression on her face grow. "Someones even ripped the last page out."

"Was tha' say?" Rose shuffled closer to point at the writing scrawled across every page. She wasn't very good at reading. "B-aa-d. Bad somethin'."

"Wolf. It has bad wolf written on all the pages." Mrs. Appleyard answered.

Each letter was sharp and dark, like a murder note from a horror movie. There were indents in the books flimsy pages from a hand pressing roughly down on them with black crayon, a rushed job while angry or excited?

Rose cocked her head to the side, hair falling out of her pigtails. "I don't think the wolf is bad though."

The teacher smiled, "No?"

Rose shook her head, "Nah. He's lookin' at 'er like shes an ole friend. Like Shareen!" The little blonde turned her head to beam at her best friend, receiving a smile in return and a quick agreement.

"Well, either way we need to choose another story to read." The entire class groaned but was stopped when their teacher held up a hand and looked at Rose. "Why don't you go choose another story book Rose."

Rose nodded but wasn't entirely happy.

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Bad Wolf.

Rose knows how to spell it now with perfect accuracy. She spent weeks with crayons and pencils, highlighters and pens writing the name on any available scrap of paper. She watches as her B's go from squiggly to near perfect straight and curved lines. She nagged her mum, her teachers, anyone who would take the time to look over her work to see if she made a mistake. She's memorized the two words so well she's sure she could spot them a whole playground away.

The wolf is her favorite now, the wolf and Red Riding Hood. She thinks they're the best of friends and wont listen to the story books that say otherwise.

Rose is six and has only finished her first term at school but she already knows that her life is a little odd. Sometimes she hears things that aren't there. An odd whooshing sound that doesn't quite catalog with anything she's ever heard before. It's a little like metal skimming metal but it echoes from thin air and she knows to ignore it now.

Other times she hears people call out to her when no ones around.

'Rose Tyler.'

'Rose!'

She recognizes her mums voice, screaming at her, for her. Sometimes she hears crying, someone sobbing and calling for a doctor, another is crying for her. It's on these days she crawls to her mum and keeps glued to her side for the rest of the day, intent on keeping there. If Jackie notices something off, she never mentions it. There are times Rose can't tell the difference between the voices in her head and reality, but she thinks she can tell the difference better than before now.

Somethings don't make sense. Sometimes she'll see a banana and want to cry, she doesn't know why. Other times she'll see the same fruit and laugh, because bananas just seem to do that to her.

'Don't drop the banana!'

A lot of people say having voices in her head is bad, so she never tells anyone for fear of taking them away, not even her mum or Shareen. She keeps silent because she doesn't think the voices are bad. She knows this because whenever she's sad she hears the sound of a million voices wash over her in a gentle tide, leaving her happier.

'Before I go, I just want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.'

'We'll always be okay.'

'You don't just give up. You don't just let things happen. You make a stand! You say no! You have the guts to do what's right, even when everyone else just runs away.'

'Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth.'

She likes that one: Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth. A superhero, but at the same time it doesn't sit right with her like there's a dead weight in her tummy but it's been there so long she hardly recognizes it as something not apart of her. She's six and she dreams of many wonderful things, at first she cried because it was all so scary but as time goes on she knows she quite likes them, even if she can't remember anything more than a flash of half turned face in the mornings.

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She's five when she first sees the name Bad Wolf. She's five and half when voices echo in her mind. She's six when she starts dreaming about things she can never remember and she's six and a half when Little Red Riding Hood skips through the forest for the first time.

It happens while she's brushing her hair, frustrated at its length and the seemingly millions of knots in it. "Stupid hair, cut you off." She mumbles, annoyed but well aware her mother would never sanction a short hair style for her daughters bright blonde locks.

Rose doesn't notice the gold mist pouring from her, its glitter more radiant than a thousand dying stars. She brushes her hair with quick tugs until the cheep plastic snaps in two pieces, one half tangled in her hair, the other gripped in her hand. There is a light in the corner of her eye and when she tilts her head the slightest bit to see what it is, her whole world becomes golden. Golden then white.

Too quickly it's too much for her small mind, her senses run into over drive and so much sound, too much color and not enough air to breathe in. There's nothing to hold onto except for the red plastic brush handle still in her hand. Then there's suddenly ground beneath her feet and she can see perfectly fine, but there's not a single sound to be heard. She doesn't hear the sound of her panicked intakes of breath, the sound of her little heart working over time or the sound of gravel and dried leaves crunching beneath someones feet as they drew closer to her.

Something warm and slick is running down the sides of her face and down her neck but it's noted idly as she stared at a dented sign off to left. "Vill-en-gard." She struggles to read it, whispers it out loud despite the fact she can't hear her own voice, or anything really. Nothing but a high pitch ringing that's starting to give her a headache.

There's a hand on her shoulder that turns her around, numbly she obeys the silent order to stare into the blue eyes of a prince. She's in shock, not that she knows this, running on pure adrenaline thanks to her bodies fight or flight, survival instincts making them self known. But her prince is very pretty- which is why she thinks he's a prince anyway- with wind tussled brown hair and bright blue eyes full of concern, he's wearing a deep green coat and it's wrong. His coat should be grey or in the very least dark blue, she knows this. It should look dramatic as he storms through life with charisma, flirty smiles and a mask so well worn he's forgotten what lies beneath.

He's kneeling in front of her, ridding himself of that wrong coat and ripping its arms off by the seams, scrunching the fabric up and pressing it against her ears. It hurts a bit, but the pain is distant, like a blur a mile away as she watches his mouth move. He's smiling at her and talking but she can't make out a single thing he's saying over the sirens blaring in her eardrums.

'Am I naked in front of millions of viewers?' He stands there, that smug smile painted across his face, not once bothering to cover up his bare skin. Instead he does the opposite, his arms flex as he places his hands on hips, both feet a shoulder length a part. The perfect position to show off his physique, the one he's so proud of.

'Absolutely.'

'Ladies your viewing figures just went up.' He's so sure of himself, nothing faked quite so well.

Rose giggles, she feels her body vibrate so she knows she's laughing and she can see those blue eyes filling with even more concern before the princes charming grin turns just that little bit more genuine. It's better, he deserves to have a life full of real smiles. He's talking again, perfectly white teeth flashing as his lips pull up into a familiar grin as he does so before he picks her up to settle her against his hip, her little legs automatically wrapping around him.

Both of his arms are wrapped around her and his warmth sings of comfort and familiarity. It's a hug that's second best in the universe, in all of time and space, she doesn't know who the first is yet but she knows she's hugged them both before. They're walking and there's nothing in sight, but she knows that one day there will be.

'There's a banana grove there now. I like bananas, bananas are good.'

"There's gonna be bananas 'ere one day soon." She feels herself say to the prince between pants. There's a slight hitch to his walk before he continues, walking faster than before, almost jogging but obviously afraid of jostling her.

She shouldn't be letting strangers pick her up, she knows better, she's an estate kid but she knows this man- her prince- wont hurt her. They've spent their lives saving each other. It's a near delirious thought but she truly believes it. Rose places her heated cheek against his tan neck to watch dust kick up from the ground over his shoulder as darkness creeps along the edges of her vision.

Rose is tired, so very, very tired.

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The first thing Rose notices when she wakes up is the hum of machines and technology she doesn't recognize, oddly enough she's calm and a little bit relieved that she can hear again and the nasty ringing is gone. The second thing she notices is the brush handle that's still gripped firmly in her hand. With a stern expression she raised the handle to eye level, staring at it as if it had all the answers to life.

There's a smooth chuckle from somewhere beside the odd bed she sits on. "You wouldn't let it go, even when I was fixing you up." The voice is warm and filled with mirth as she turns to look at her prince who is smiling down at her like she's the second coming of Jesus. Which is apparently a big thing.

"Hello." She greets shyly, completely out of character. If he were anyone else she would have been bursting with confidence, faked or not.

He kneels down beside her bed, arms reaching out to untangle the first half of her hair brush from her hair. She lets him, completely comfortable with his presence. "Hello." He responds seemingly amused by her timid character and complete trust in him, the stranger.

Rose is somewhat confused when she feels that their greeting isn't really complete yet so without a second thought she lets out one more, "Hello." Much to the mans delight as he chuckles making her beam up at him.

"Are you American?" She asks, as she- now more confident- gestures for him to help her with her hair.

He's startled, that much is obvious but smiles and obliges anyway, "Anything for the little princess. Captain Jack Harkness, at your service." He introduces himself with a courtly kiss to her hand causing her to giggle. "Or Prince Jack Harkness, if the lady prefers. Maybe a knight?"

'Who are you supposed to be then?'

A teasing smile slithers across his lips, 'Captain Jack Harkness. One- three- three- three squadron, Royal Air Force. American volunteer.' He responds, it's a lie but it's a lie that eventually becomes a part of himself.

"No, you're my Captain, not my prince." She tells him air of someone who knows how the universe works before she's back to giggling like the six year old she is, "Captains are by far, better." She whispers conspiratorially.

"Is that so?" Jack hums thoughtfully as he deftly brushes her golden locks with precision, "Well, then a Captain I am for now, for you. But," He states with happy grin, "does the lost princess have a name?"

Rose accidentally side steps the the question, "Is this your space ship?" She asks, looking around at the lit up screens and the odd chair right up the front that is completely covered with wires poking out. It's small but everywhere she looks are buttons and metal with only small and foreign looking lights to illuminate the dark space.

"Yes, do you like it, Buttercup?" He tacks on the name, much like an afterthought than anything else.

Rose's face scrunches up in confusion, "Buttercup?"

The braid Captain Jack has been working on is finished off as he produces an odd elastic-like material from seemingly nowhere to tie it off with a flourish and pushing to the side of her shoulder. "Princess Buttercup, a little before this time but a classic. And when I say a little..." He trails off but is quick to regain his smile. "The Princess Bride. Buttercup is a beautiful girl who is in love with a farm boy who loves her too but one day he leaves to make a fortune for them and doesn't return after being killed at sea by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who doesn't keep people alive."

The small blonde cocked her head to the side with a frown, "Tha's a little mean."

"It is mean, isn't it?" He asks her before continuing on. "But after a few years a prince comes along and asks Buttercup to marry him, she's still in love with her farm boy but agrees anyway but before the day of the wedding, she gets kidnapped by three criminals. So, the Prince follows after them with his guards but so does another, a mysterious man dressed in black. What Buttercup doesn't know is that the Prince has hired these criminals to kill her so he can blame it on a rival country and start a war."

Now Rose was confused, "Why would anyone want to purposely start a war?" It seemed so stupid to her, didn't the prince know that people died in wars? That people lost their mums and dads?

Her captain just chuckles and shrugs. "The man in black catches up to them and defeats the first outlaw in a sword fight. He defeats the second in hand to hand combat and the last in a battle of wits, tricking him into drinking poison and the man in black captures Buttercup for himself."

The six year old placed both her hands over her mouth with a muffled, "Oh no."

Jack gave her a reassuring smile with a pat on the head, "Does the Princess want me to continue?"

Rose nodded, scared for Buttercup but excited, "Definitely."

"The man in black introduces himself as the Dread Pirate Roberts, Captain of the Dread Pirates. Buttercup enraged by the man that killed her farm boy pushes him down a hill. But, as he's tumbling down he yells 'as you wish,' something that her farm boy used to say to Buttercup all the time. It was his way of saying I love you. Buttercup realizes that the Dread Pirate Roberts is her farm boy."

"What happens next?" She breathes.

Her captain shrugs, "I'm sorry princess, I don't remember. But the point is Buttercup preferred Captains over Princes too." He tugs on her long braid gently, "Not to mention, she had hair like yours, long and golden like Buttercups."

"But 's also about a boy who pretends to be a captain but is actually a farm boy. What was his name then?" Rose insists with a knowing smile, she doesn't know how she knows but she's sure her captains name isn't really Jack just like he isn't really a captain.

"Wesley, or something of the like." He answers while pulling out an machine that looks somewhat like the thermometers they have in a doctors office, the ones they stick into your ear and holds it up to her forehead.

"Then are you Wesley?" She asks, not sure if the name suits him or not. "I think I like Jack better."

"Yeah? Me too, I picked it up a few months ago." Jack pauses to ask, "How did you know that my name isn't really Jack?"

Rose pursed her lips in thought but shrugged with a shake of her head. "How do you know how to breathe? I jus' do. I know things sometimes." She says with finality, as if there's nothing more to it.

The handheld machine in Jacks hand beeps quietly. Lowering it, Rose watches as he stares at the reading on its little blue screen. "Well, you're definitely human," He looks up at her with a smile, "If a little dehydrated. Would the princess Buttercup like a drink?"

"Can I have juice?"

The captain bowed playfully before her with a grin, his blue eyes twinkling merrily, "As the lady wishes."

Rose grins back at him, her special one, the one where her tongue is tucked between her teeth gives a haughty, "She does." To which her captain laughs and exits the small room through a gray cloth curtain.

It's while he's gone and she's peering around at the many wondrous things her captains spaceship holds that she feels light again, like a feather on the wind. Her hearing dulls slightly and golden light is pouring from her once more. This time she isn't afraid, but does feel slightly disappointed especially when she hears the shattering of glass behind her and her captain is once more before her making small noises of concerned fear and frustration.

"Buttercup? Buttercup what's happening?" He yells, arms hovering over her, not knowing where it's safe to touch but jerking in fear when his hand goes straight through her shoulder. He stares at it, frozen, as if it had personally seen to his immediate demise before slowly looking up at her and swallowing deeply, distress swimming in his blue orbs.

"We should dance." Rose says without concern as her feet lift off the ground, hovering above the metal flooring of the ship.

Jack lets out a strangled noise from his throat as he hunches over her, trying to wrap his arms around her, attempting to anchor her down and failing but still trying. "You want to dance Buttercup, yeah, let's do that. I promise, we'll dance. Swing dancing, jazz, hip hop, tap dancing, hell, ballet, whatever you want." He agrees frantically, "Just tell me how to help you."

She's bleeding again, there's blood leaking from her eyes and nose, she can taste salt and metal in her mouth but Rose just smiles. "A slow dance and it has to be somewhere special."

He's rushing around his spaceship, pressing buttons and trying not to take his eyes off the young girl who's fading before his very eyes, smiling with blood dripping down her chin. "Special, where do you want to go, I'll take you. You name it, we'll go." He runs to her, trying to touch her, "Where do you want to go Buttercup? Stay with me princess, keep your eyes open." He commands, seeing her eyes droop.

Rose shrugs, now dizzy, her head cantering to the side, too weak to hold it up. "Don't care, you promised me a dance. I'll remember." She slurs and is lost to the darkness once more.

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Someones screaming her name, over and over. There's noise and sirens, people yelling over other people.

"That's my daughter! That's my daughter! That's my Rose!" She hears her mum scream amid sobs.

Rose opens her eyes with all the energy she can muster, if her captain were here he would be able to fix her up straight away. Strangely she doesn't feel any pain, she's just tired and wants everyone to just shut up or turn that siren off. "Mum," She croaks, staring at the huddled bottle blonde who's surrounded by police officers.

"I don't know!" She yells at one man, "She's been missing for three days as you useless lot already know! Now let me see my daughter!"

A woman stands over her, gently lifting her and placing her on a soft surface and suddenly Rose is off the ground again. "She's conscious!" The pretty lady calls to a man before turning to her once more. "Hi there sweetie, I'm going to ask you a few questions okay?"

She agrees with a soft nod to which the woman smiles. "Do you know what your full name is?"

Rose giggles, "Rose Marion Tyler."

The pretty lady smiles, "Good and what day is it?"

"Wednesday." The woman pauses at this and scribbles something down her board.

"What was last thing you remember doing this morning Rose?" She asks.

Rose looked up at her with a sleepy smile, "I was on a spaceship." She frowned with a pout as she paused, "I think I left my hair brush there."