Hello, and welcome to my first Doctor Who fic, "As It Should Be", because dagnabbit, this is how it should have happened. Assume everything happened as normal for most of S3. I know there are a million reunionfics out there, but this won't simply be a retelling of S4 plus Rose-what's the point of an AU if you don't shake things up a little?
Disclaimer: Does it need saying?
o0o0o0o0o
In a darkened alley, two figures appeared in a crack and a flash of blue light, where they immediately collapsed to their knees.
"Ohhhhh…..I am never going to get used to that," the shorter of the two groaned, gripping his stomach. The woman at his side wasn't fairing much better and, after shaking off the effects herself, shot him a sympathetic grin.
"Let's hope not," the blonde chuckled. "If we're where we should be, our transportation should be getting an upgrade soon." The boy, who looked to be just now growing into the longer limbs of adolescence, nodded at her as she pushed herself to her feet.
"Can you feel her nearby?" The redhead asked as the woman held out her hand to help him stand. Grunting, he brushed the dirt from his jeans. The woman frowned, suddenly completely still, except for her head, which she turned from side to side, as if listening for something in the distance.
"I….don't know," she admitted, worry in her eyes. The boy looked at her in disbelief.
"You don't know? How? I mean, she's either here or she's not, right? Or maybe she was here…will be here…and now she's not? I thought you said you'd be able to tell right away?" The woman sighed, rubbing a hand across her face, then looked to the boy wearily.
"I could. Can. Usually. And…I can hear her, but it's….." she bit her lip, finally looking out from the alley and into the empty street before them. "Wrong." She slowly moved the mouth of the alley, the boy following.
"How do you mean?" He gripped her forearm lightly, pulling her hand away from her mouth. She twisted her arm to clasp his hand, looking him straight in the eye, and the worry there made his heart drop.
Swallowing, he looked away and tugged her out from the alley, looking out at the nearly deserted streets, the looming buildings, the grey sky—oh so familiar, but not. He was certain this was London—maybe not the London he knew, but close enough—but there was something else in the air that was just off about this place that had nothing to do with the fact that he'd never technically been here before.
On the sidewalk to their right, a small crowd was huddled outside a shop window. With a wordless agreement, the two slowly started walking towards them, hoping to get some clue about what was going on. Still distracted, he pulled her attention back to him.
"Well?" He prompted. She gripped his hand tighter and looked straight ahead, talking lowly.
"It's….I can hear her but it's wrong. She isn't supposed to sound like that. She—she sounds like….like she's hurt or sick or…." She shivered, whispering, "…dying…." The boy gulped, walking a little faster past the rows of campaign posters plastered haphazardly on the wall beside them towards the huddle of people.
"Then we really need to find her fast, yeah?" He whispered urgently. She merely squeezed his hand again. Stopping unobtrusively behind the crowd of people, they peered over their shoulders to see a wide-screen TV in the shop window, playing some kind of political broadcast. There were two men standing at a podium—what appeared to be the Prime Minister, off to the side, and speaking, the American President.
"-stand before you today as ambassador for humanity, a role I will undertake with the utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much, but what is important is not that we gain material—"
"Toclafane?" The boy asked quietly. The woman only shook her head.
"-stars, he has wondered what mysteries they hold. Now we know we are not alone. No longer—"
"They're….I think they're the welcoming committee for a group of aliens," she noted quietly in disbelief. The boy looked up at her, just as surprised.
"Public contact? Now? You're positive you got the time right?" Without even looking away from the screen, she nodded.
"No mistake, this is early 21st Century London. My London," she added after a moment. The boy sighed.
Sudden clapping, laughs, gasps and cheering, both from the television and the small crowd in front of them, caused them both to focus back on the screen just as four odd metal spheres appeared in the air behind the President. The woman sucked in a breath.
"What? You recognize them?" The boy asked quickly, quietly. She shook her head, a deep frown set in her jaw.
"Not exactly, but….well. Call me prejudiced, but I've never met a living being in a metal shell that hasn't tried to kill me," she confessed with a pointed look. The boy shivered. The nightmares were not his own, but he'd heard the stories many, many times.
He also trusted the woman beside him would know exactly what to do about them.
There was some kind of commotion on the screen as the Prime Minister suddenly pushed aside the President to stand at the podium himself, grinning madly.
"Oh, all right then. It's me. Ta da! Sorry, sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed. Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don't know. It's crazy."
"Crazy is right," the boy muttered.
"This is about to go utterly pear-shaped, I can just tell…" the woman groaned.
Sure enough, not a second later they watched in horror as the President was blasted into pieces by one of the Toclafane. There were more gasps and screams from the crowd in front of them, jostling for a closer view of the events unfolding, and the pair lost sight of the screen for a moment. When they got a clear view a few seconds later, the boy felt the woman beside him choke, stiffen; gripping his hand now so hard it was painful. Before he could get a good look at what had scared her so, she pulled on his arm and ran back to the alley.
"We need to go. Now," she bit out. He nodded, knowing she would tell him when time wasn't of the essence.
They nearly fell into the alley when they reached it, the sharp tang of vortex travel still lingering in the air. The woman immediately began adjusting the settings of the thick-banded device on her wrist, talking urgently to the boy beside her.
"I don't know who that man really is or what the Toclofane are or even what's really going on, but I do know three things," she finished adjusting the bracelet and clasped the boys hands in both of hers, looking him straight in the eyes. He met her fierce look with grim determination. Whatever happened next, happened.
"One," she continued, "that man has the TARDIS. I don't know how, or why, but whatever it is he's doing, it's hurting her immensely. Two, he has the Doctor."
The boy sucked in a sharp breath. So that had been what she saw. Given that information, the inhuman light that spilled into her eyes was no surprise to him as she declared,
"And three: We are going to save them, no matter what. Ready, Tony?" As if she needed to ask.
"Always, Rose," he smirked. With a fierce grin in return, she let go with one hand and slammed the button down on her bracelet, and with another flash of light, the alley was empty once more.
o0o0o0o0o
This time the pair landed hard in what appeared to be a metal corridor. The faint humming of engines told them it was likely a ship of some sort, but those observations were ignored for the moment as they tried to find where they'd misplaced their stomachs.
"Gah, twice in ten minutes….'s even worse…." Nonetheless, the redhead stood, knowing he'd have to wait to be sick later. Rose was already up and running, apparently knowing the way. He followed her without hesitation, glad that there seemed to be no guards shooting at them. Yet.
She didn't pause as she turned right at the end of the corridor, only coming to a halt in front of an unobtrusive metal door, which was mercifully unlocked. She pushed it open and they both ran in, both stopped, and both gasped at the sight in front of them, though for different reasons.
Despite never having seen it before, Tony recognized the TARDIS right away, having grown up on stories of the wondrous ship all his life. It really did look rather ordinary, but it was as if he could feel the presence of the sentient ship, even from outside. And maybe he could. After everything else, it really wouldn't surprise him.
Rose however, had only paused for a moment, and was now tenderly running her hand down the front panel of the police box like she was greeting a long-lost friend. Which, he realized, was exactly what she was doing.
"I know, I missed you, I'm so sorry, I'll fix it, I will…" she whispered to the ship fervently. Bursting back into motion, she ripped the TARDIS key from her Vortex Manipulator and opened the doors wide, crying out as she was suddenly bathed in a harsh red light.
"Oh, what have they done to you?" she half-sobbed as she bolted inside, Tony following close behind. Having already known that she was bigger on the inside, his attention was instead drawn to the horrible cage-like contraption that surrounded the center console. There was also a loud humming in his head that made his eyes water.
"What—what is that?" he gasped out. Rose was crying in earnest, though she did not touch the device.
"I—I don't know but it's hurting her, it's killing her and she's screaming in pain—can't you hear her screaming?" She choked out.
"I—I hear something and it hurts, but—" suddenly, the humming in his head increased, the lights flared brighter, something on the metal cage shifted into place, and Rose fell to her knees with a strangled yell.
"Rose!" He ran forward, gripping her arms to try to pull her up, but she held his arms back, face contorted into a rictus of pain, eyes closed as she spoke to him.
"Tony, there's not much time—I have to get this thing off of her now. Whatever it's meant to do has already started and we need to stop it as soon as possible." He gripped the arms gripping his.
"How? What do we do?" She shuddered, shaking her head.
"That's not 'we', that's just 'me'," she corrected.
"But—"
"Because I need you to do something else, something very dangerous and Tony if I had any other choice I'd take it, but we don't have time." She let go of his arm, still not looking at him as she dug into her bag and produced a familiar bronze object, placing it into his hands. The metal felt cool against his sweaty palms.
"You can't be here while I destroy this thing, because you—" she looked up at him then, and the very literal golden light of her eyes made the moisture on his skin freeze, "are going to take this and you—" she continued as she stood and took off her Vortex Manipulator, passing it to him, "are going to save the Doctor. Still have your perception filter?" He nodded tersely. "That has enough charge left to give you about five minutes of stealth once you activate it—don't use it until you absolutely have to. Understand?"
He nodded again and she swept him up in a hug—brief, fierce, and just long enough to lift him slightly off his feet—but he was down again a second later. She squeezed his shoulders.
"You'll come back safe." It was half plea, half order. He nodded to both.
"To you." You'll be there to come back to.
They said no more, no "I love yous", because they weren't saying goodbye. With one last look, Tony ran off, shutting the door behind him.
o0o0o0o0o
With Tony gone, Rose took a deep breath. The TARDIS was still screaming inside her head, and she knew she had to push her worries for her loved one's safety to the back of her mind. The longer she waited to destroy the machine, the more damage that man and his Toclofane minions could do. With another deep breath, she dove deep in her mind, the last whole branches of the TARDIS' consciousness moving right alongside her, until they arrived at a glowing, golden door.
Tell me how to save you.
Together, they opened the door.
And let the wolf in.
o0o0o0o0o
Tony entered the room almost casually, though he was anything but. The scene before him was chaos—dignitaries and civilians alike were cowering on their knees, armed guards surrounding them with weapons drawn and ready. An awful pop song was blasting from the speakers, providing a surreal counterpoint to the blood red sky and the millions of Toclafane he could see swarming past through the far window. Standing at the window, backs turned, he could see the Prime Minister and his wife, pointing excitedly towards the hoard of metal monsters descending from the sky. Just behind them were three figures, sprawled in various states across the raised platform next to the podium. There was a pretty, frantic black woman, speaking in hushed tones to…
Oh, god, Jack!
If he was here, that must mean…
Sure enough, the third figure was dressed in red converse, pinstripes, and a long, dark coat. But his face…
I'm too late, they've done something to him…
Stomach clenching at the sight of the withered Doctor—for it had to be the Doctor—he slowly started making his way across the room, keeping to the wall and making no sudden movements. He didn't have much longer until the battery on his Manipulator ran out, and thus, his Perception Filter. He needed to get over to his target before that happened.
Luckily, the guards seemed to be otherwise occupied and it was relatively easy to slip around them. He was more than halfway there when a guard looked up at him and he froze. Thankfully, the filter worked its' magic and the guards eyes slipped right past him…and onto the black woman, who had just stood and was about to teleport away. He tackled her to the ground. The Doctor yelled "Martha!" Jack just cursed, and a moment later pair of guards had him, too.
The Prime Minister turned at the sudden commotion, spotted the teleporter on the woman's arm, and became enraged. Then as soon as it appeared, it vanished, displaced by a manic grin as he glanced between the restrained woman and the prone form of the Doctor.
"Oh-ho-ho, Doctor! Now were you about to send your little pet away? What exactly were you going to have her do, now, hmm?" The Prime Minister turned around to face the prone Doctor to taunt him, which meant his back was now facing Tony.
His mistake.
Ten seconds left on the filter.
As he stepped forward, a sense of calm washed over him. He knew what he had to do. The music was just fading as he pressed the cold, metal barrel onto the exposed neck of the Minister. The room now quiet, everyone froze as they heard a soft, distinct click. The man in front of him stood perfectly still.
"Don't. Move."
o0o0o0o0o
The Doctor thought his hearts might stop as he heard the tell-tale sound of a gun being chambered and his oldest enemy went from taunting him to completely blank-faced.
"Don't. Move," an unfamiliar voice ordered. Positioned the way he was with the Master in front of him, he couldn't see who it was that brought everything to a standstill, but the voice was smooth, calm, and horrifyingly young.
Everything was going wrong. He'd had a plan—a last one, a desperate one, but it had been nipped in the bud when Martha had been caught before she could get away. He'd been frantically trying to think of any other way to do something in this, admittedly, very helpless position, when this mystery man—child—had come out of nowhere and put a gun to the Master's head. As much as he hated them, it gave him precious minutes to come up with Plan C. Well, technically, it was Plan H but….
The boy was speaking again, calm as before, with even a hint of amusement. "Unless, of course, you think you can disable me before my little trigger finger twitches. Oh, and I don't think your guards are exactly in any position to fire, either. Not without hitting you. I'm awfully short, you see—you're a much bigger target."
Raising a single eyebrow, the Master echoed his calm amusement, though he addressed the Doctor. "My, my, my, you are full of surprises. Conscripting children to your little band of merry men, handing them weapons? And here I thought I knew you so well. Well played, very…dirty."
The Doctor opened his mouth to protest that he had nothing to do with this—and why was his insane friend always flirting with him?! It was disturbing—but an undignified snort beat him to it.
"Conscripted, nice. No, I'm more of a…freelancer, I guess you could say. Just doing a little pro bono work for a chance at joining the dream team."
"Are you now?" The Master asked mildly, addressing the person threatening his life for the first time.
"Yeah. Been on my own for awhile now. Well. I say on my own, but I have a friend. I'm sure she's around here somewhere, and her Perception Filter had a lot more juice than mine. Which is why she is on the other side of the room, ready to blast you if I happen to miss. I won't, of course, but it's certainly comforting."
Predictably at this declaration, every head but the Master's swiveled around the room, trying to locate the second shooter, including the Doctor. Of course, if what the boy said was true, if his companion was standing still with a fully functioning Perception Filter, they'd never find her until it was too late.
The Master started chuckling, quietly at first, until it rose to full out laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye, and every guard in the room tensed as the boy pressed the weapon a little more firmly to his head.
"Oh, this is marvelous! This plan isn't half bad! Mind you," he continued conversationally, as if they were two old friends chatting over tea, "if you somehow do manage to put a bullet through my head—which would be a shame, really, because I rather like it—after I immediately regenerate, if you're still alive, I'll make sure you and your little friend have a place of honor in the cell right next to this freak of nature," he declared as he kicked a foot into the still-prone form of Jack.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty," the voice said soothingly. "Time Lord. Do you really think I'd be holding a normal gun to your head? I mean, who said anything about bullets? Bullets are dull. I've always been one for flash, me, and the barrel pressed against your head belongs to my lovely Psychokinetic Wavelength Disintegrator. Even if you regenerate, I wonder how long it'll take you to find your mind? Well, what's left of it, anyway. Personally, I think you've already misplaced a piece or three."
The Master chuckled again. "Oh, but it's great fun, being mad. For instance, doing this!" The Master turned suddenly to face the boy, who had backed up a step, but held his aim steady, now pointed at the madman's forehead. The guards had all raised their weapons again, but made no move to fire. The boy and the Time Lord faced each other calmly, studying each other.
The other Time Lord in the room took this opportunity to study the mysterious child, now that the Master had moved out of the way. He was as young as he sounded, barely a teenager, thin with gangly limbs and hands just slightly too large for his body. His dark red hair fluffed out at all angles, and his cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles, set beneath achingly familiar hazel eyes…
Could it…no…
Avoiding that thought entirely, his eyes moved down—the boy was dressed in a deep brown leather bomber jacket over an olive green jumper, narrow legs covered in well-worn jeans and feet clad in—if he did so say himself—a rather dashing pair of brown converse.
After his quick analysis, he was left with the feeling that the boy was somehow a complete stranger, yet so, so, familiar…..
The Master huffed. "Well now. I spent a good year and a half preparing for this day, and I've never seen you before in my life. I don't have anything prepared for you!" He wailed, spreading his hands wide. "I feel like such a terrible host! Lucy, my dear, surely you have something for him, don't you?"
The Doctor tried to shout out a warning, but it was too late. Lucy Saxon had come up behind the boy and pressed her own gun between his shoulder-blades. The boys eyes widened, and he saw him swallow, but his face settled back into a calm mask a moment later.
The Master giggled. "Oh, but this is too much fun! A regular Christmas bash! Ready to paint the town red? Well, everything, red. Red, red, red, all over—such a lovely color, don't you think? Red and green you'll be, child, isn't that marvelous?"
The boy only raised an eyebrow, tilting his gun slightly. "Yeah, I get it, you wanna spill my blood everywhere. Fine. But in case you're forgetting, the second any gun is fired, I squeeze this down and your mind gets ripped apart. Even if I miss, if I die, my friend won't. I know you're mad, but, do you really like those odds?" The Master grinned wider.
"I love those odds! You see, it's all well and dandy that you—and your supposed friend—have two guns trained on me. But seeing as there's a gun at your back as well, and about twenty more besides, all trained on you, I'm betting there's a good chance you—and your supposed friend—get made into swiss cheese before you even think to pull the trigger. And speaking of your supposed friend, I really am starting to doubt she exists; surely she would have made a move to gain the upper hand, by now."
The boy only smiled softly. "Oh, she's real all right. And I have a feeling she's making her move right about now, so all of this won't matter much in a moment." The Master snorted.
"A feeling? You're waiting for her to save you? So your role was only a distraction."
He shrugged. "Of sorts." The Master moved closer, his forehead pressed right up against the barrel of the gun. The Doctor couldn't see his old enemy's eyes, but he wondered how the child could stare into such raw madness and not flinch.
"This—faith—of yours is pointless, you know," he growled. "You're going to die, painful and slow, and your friend can do nothing. Such a human sentiment, trusting blindly that another will help you, it's pitiful." The Master raised his arm, instructing his soldiers to take aim, eyes never leaving the boy's as he growled. "Go on, then. Pray, hope, believe—conjure up something to stop the bullets, save yourself, make your friend appear at the last minute and save the day…no? Yes? Well?"
The boy tilted his head. "I don't know that I've ever prayed, you know. Don't know if there's a God even, and given some of the stuff I've seen, don't know if I ever will." He shrugged, and for the first time, the boy's eyes slipped away from the madman in front of him and focused on the madman on the ground. The Doctor again found himself looking into the horribly, horribly familiar hazel eyes.
"But if there's one thing I believe in," he continued, smirking at the Doctor, who felt time stop for just an instant…
"…I believe in her."
Impossible. Can't be, literally no possible way…
'I thought you liked impossible', a memory echoed in response.
Rose…
And after that one, still, crucial moment, everything happened in an instant.
The ground beneath them began to shake violently and those who weren't already on the floor began to topple over…
Out the window, the billions of Toclafane were blinking out of existence, the red sky fading back into grey…
The Master's head snapped around to the window at he took a step in that direction, wailing, "My children!"
The boy ducked around the Master and away from Lucy, aiming the barrel at his head again and squeezing down…
Lucy squeezed the trigger of her gun in shock at the sudden movement of the floor, and the bullet ripped through the boy's right side just as he fired his gun…
Jack threw off his two guards and made to shield the boy with his body, pulling him against his chest and turning his back to the room full of soldiers…
The guards that hadn't been knocked to their feet took aim and fired, bullets meant for the boy all met with a solid wall of ex-Time Agent…
The Master's back arched straight, his mind scrambled and nerves gone haywire, as he fell face-first onto the podium…
Martha ducked underneath the line of fire, pulling off her Perception Filter and finally getting it around the Master's neck, knowing the aura of fear was the only thing keeping the guards on their side from stopping those loyal to the Master…
The President's guards, as well as most of those no longer under Saxon's spell, found their courage again and detained the rogue guards, gunning down those who refused to surrender…
And the Doctor felt his body begin to warm as the effects of the Master's device were undone, as Time itself was reversed.
All of this happened in only three seconds. And then the shaking really began.
"Time's reversing!" He half-crowed, his voice coming back to him as he got rapidly younger. "Everyone just get down and hold on!" The civilians still in the room screamed in sheer terror, and even the guards were hard pressed to keep themselves calm while trying to maintain their guard on the rebel soldiers. The shaking lasted for another ten seconds or so before it gradually came to a halt, and people burst into a flurry of motion.
Trusting that the important things would be handled by others at the moment, guards taken care of, Master restrained—he's not dead, not dead-the Doctor looked to his right and noticed that Jack had fallen beside him, body still shielding the boy, his back riddled with oozing red holes. The Doctor sighed.
Oh, Jack, I'm so, so sorry…
Dead for the moment, the Doctor pushed the man off of the boy, wanting to make sure the boy hadn't been crushed during his fall. Those hazel eyes cracked open and met his.
"Heya, Doc. Nice to finally meet you. 'Cause I've certainly heard a lot about you, you know." The Doctor grinned slowly in response, long-suppressed hope bubbling to the surface of his mind.
"If those stories of me came from who I think they came from, then it is certainly nice to meet you, too." The boy smiled weakly, then coughed into his hand. And then all smiles and happy thoughts dropped away from him as that hand came away covered in red.
"You've been shot," he rasped in horror. Oh, no, no, no, no, no…
The boy's hand drifted down to his right side, where a patch of red was blooming just under his ribs. He fingered the wet fabric of his jumper and the hole in his coat.
"Damn," he sighed, "I loved this jacket."
"Your jacket?" His voice pitched high, incredulous that that was his biggest worry at the moment. The boy only looked at him oddly, tugging on the Doctor's own overcoat.
"Yes. I love it. And I know you love yours, this coat," he said with another tug. "Janis Joplin gave you that coat." The Doctor blinked.
"Well, yes, but—how do you—oh, never mind that! You're bleeding out on the floor!"
"I noticed," he chuckled, but was interrupted by another cough. The sound seemed to snap his priorities back in place, and he scooped the boy up carefully in his arms, standing and turning quickly to take in the chaos around him. He needed to get the boy medical attention, fast, but he was far from the only one who needed it, and outside forces were just now responding to the assassination of the American President.
He immediately turned to his favorite medical student, but saw she was preoccupied. After having helped ensure the Master was restrained before he woke up—and he will wake up—Martha had run to her family to embrace them and check over their injuries from the fight and previous imprisonment.
He heard Jack gasp suddenly below him and made his decision. If time had been reversed, that meant that someone had destroyed the paradox machine. And if that someone was who he thought it was, there was no way he was going anywhere but there.
o0o0o0o0o
"Jack, good, you're up," the Doctor spoke to the immortal man as if he'd just woken up from a nap and not from death. Standing and glaring at him, Jack was about to call him out on it, when his eyes fell on the boy in his arms and his face fell.
"Shit, I thought I…" The boy reached over and patted him on the chest.
"S'okay. You got the soldiers, it was Lucy. Good shot, she is. Can't say much for her taste in men." His eyes were slightly glazed as he looked between the faces of the two men above him. The Doctor huffed and Jack let out a chuckle, following him when the man marched out of the room, headed back towards the corridors.
"C'mon, then, let's get back to her," the boy muttered as they strode with purpose through the halls. He sighed. "Oh, she's going to kill me. If I don't die, I mean. Well, if I do she'll bring me back. Then kill me. Won't let me stay that way, of course, but…." Jack just looked between the boy and the Doctor in utter confusion, the latter of the two smiling softly in a way he had only seen around one person…
But he'd said…
"Uhm, who is it, exactly, that we're going back to?" Jack hedged. The boy just turned back to look at Jack as if he'd dribbled on himself.
"Mary, Queen of Scots. Who do you think I'd be travelling with, have you seen me hanging around many other women—wait, don't answer that. But really, the only person I'd—oh. Oh, shit." He cringed and covered his face, muttering. Jack strained to catch most of it.
"—doesn't even remember me yet, you idiot—" Jack blinked.
"Remember you? Have we….met?" The boy shrugged uncomfortably.
"Kinda sorta. Yes and no. We'll explain it later. Wibbley-wobbley—"
"Timey-wimey, yeah, yeah, I get it," Jack finished. Ahead of him, the Doctor took an abrupt turn and kicked in the metal door, revealing the TARDIS behind it. Jack followed him, prepared to unlock the door and let them in, when the Doctor turned and deposited the boy into his arms.
"Oof," he huffed as he settled the boy so he didn't upset his side too much.
"Sorry," the Doctor wiggled his freed hands, "Pretty sure I'm going to need these in a moment," he declared cryptically and quickly unlocked and threw open the doors to the TARDIS.
"Oh dear god…" the boy muttered, covering his face, not in pain, but in…embarrassment?
All musings were brushed aside, however, as soon as he stepped into the console room and saw her.
There, somehow, someway, leaning against the central panel and grating, unconscious but very much alive, was one Rose Marion Tyler.
o0o0o0o0o
Chapter 2 is already mostly done, but I want to get a little feedback on this one first. Tell me what you think so far?