A/N: Takes place after Series Four of Doctor Who, and the end of 'Playthings' in Supernatural (Season Two; Episode 11).

Trust only movement. Life happens at the level of events, not of words. Trust movement. ~Alfred Adler

Rose had spent years travelling with the Doctor all about Space and Time. So when she had been stranded in the parallel world, more than just her love for her Doctor tore her apart. She wouldn't be able to see the grandeur and splendor that she couldn't get on the Estates back home.

And now she was in a facsimile of that; not even the real thing.

She had spent days crying, and days, months, years trying to find a way to traverse the Multiverse safely.

Then she had found Donna Noble. That gap had lasted long enough for her to spread the words through Time and Space once more to let her know that, she, Rose, was coming back.

Then he had left her here again, and, as Martha had said, the Doctor as a human was rubbish.

Utter rubbish.

She had ended up having to 'put him down', her Doctor version two. Her Doctor, the two hearted Time Lord, had told her she could save his clone, this one hearted half human-half Gallifreyan sort of Time Lord; he could feel it's passage more acutely than any human, could tell you what time it was no matter the weather, but was rubbish at anything else to do with Time. But then the Heq-t's had come, and they had the sweetest words, the best expressions and sayings. To many, including her Doctor, had found them appealing. Except she had seen through their metaphors and pretty words. Her lovely Doctor hadn't. And the version her Doctor had gifted her with one day just…well…snapped.

There wasn't a pretty way to put it.

The confinement on Earth, or Sol III he had started calling it in the days before he Fell, the warped Time Sense, the absolute quiet in his mind…he was the most brilliant mind since Albert Einstein Earth had seen and there was no challenge for him. The Heq-t's had offered him Space, the Universe really, and a mental challenge.

He had said he was sorry, for abandoning her again; all alone in a place that was the same and yet so different to where she grew up. He echoed the words of his past incarnation; to live, and have a good life. Her Doctor had graced her with a last smile before his pretty brown eyes had closed forever. No regeneration for this version.

She had shot him where his right heart should have been, and had missed his heart by inches. Not that she hadn't ruptured a few arteries and paralyzed him with toxins coated on the bullets—he had once done a mission to perfection and only afterward did they notice the two gun wounds on his arm and torso. They couldn't be too careful.

She had then thrown the Heq-t off Earth, demanded they leave, really. Tears flowing freely down her face, much warmer than tears should be as she scolded them and demand they leave at once. The Heq-t's saw her tears not as crystalline, but glowing the gold and were afraind.

The heat reminded her of the TARDIS she vaguely remembered using once to save her Northern Doctor what seemed like a lifetime ago.

There was no TARDIS to help her this time.

"Aha unsh," Hebi, the spoke's being of the Heq-t had uttered then yelled, which tickled something in Rose's mind, something she knew she should know but couldn't quite put her finger on.

The aliens had promptly left, and Rose was left with her heart bleeding and the only tie she had had to the Doctor dead.

She had loved him, not in the same way as the Time Lord, but she had still loved him.

And he was dead.

Pete and Mickey's Torchwood units had found her she didn't know how long afterwards.

"He was gonna go with them," Rose told them as she smoothed the Doctor's collar. Mickey tried to usher her up and away, but she wouldn't move.

"He was plotting with them, then he said he was sorry; to h-have a good life," she continued. She babbled what happened, not in any order that she could tell, or if she was telling Pete and Mickey anything relevant to what had happened in the last few hours.

That had been months ago.

Rose had eventually gotten over the loss of her Doctor yet again; there was a bit more closure this time burning his body and scattering his ashes than his projected image cutting off midsentence.

She was still alone.

That was when she got itchy feet.

Years of travelling with the Doctor through Space and Time had done several things to Rose. She had matured a bit, the human of Earth knew a few dialects without the help of the TARDIS, and she loved the excite from being someplace new.

Rose Tyler needed to travel.

"I'm going to America," Rose had declared one day during dinner.

"This is sudden," Jackie said after a moment.

"My plane leaves tomorrow," Rose replied. "My bags are already packed."

"You just can't go gallivanting off to America!" Jackie said, voice rising. "They're all rude over there!"

"Mum, I need to travel," Rose pleaded. "It's not like you can do much about it anyway."

"You're not going and that's final!" Jackie had shouted, slamming her glass down and digging into her food.

Rose had left the next day on a Boeing 747 that landed in JFK International Airport three hours before she had left London. Smiling at the change in time zones, she just had a feeling that she wouldn't get the all too common jet-lag most flyers suffered from.

It was kind of hard to get jet-lag when your normal ride could take you anywhere in Time.

Spending a few weeks in the city that never sleeps, Rose hopped another plane to Rhode Island and toured the tiny state before deciding on Niagra Falls. She bought a blue Subaru and filled it up before hitting the road. She made it to Cornwall, Connecticut before she was exhausted.

"I guess the jet-lag finally caught up," Rose said with a yawn as she puttered through town. Finally spying the Piermont Inn, Rose pulled in.

"I'm not sure this is a good time," the woman behind the desk said.

"I just need a room for the day, ma'am," Rose said. "I've been driving all day and just need to crash for a few hours."

"You're a long way from home!" The woman said in delight, the worry that had creased her face soothed away.

"I'm from London," the exTime Traveler said with a smile.

"I've always wanted to go there," the woman said. "Your room is just up the stairs and to your left, Ms. Tyler."

"Rose is fine," the younger woman corrected. "Being called by my last name reminds me of my mum; makes me feel old."

She smiled as the woman laughed and she jogged up the stairs with her pack. She had snagged it from her room on the TARDIS on her brief stay in her correct world along with a few suitcases that the Doctor had sonic'd into being bigger on the inside.

Not too sure how he did that with sound…

After a quick shower, Rose nearly screamed when she saw a young girl with curly blonde hair in her room.

"Hello. I'm Rose," she introduced herself to the child.

She made a face. "You're not my Rose."

What an attitude! Rose thought. "I should hope not," the Londoner said. "You definitely aren't English."

"I'm Maggie," the girl introduced. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but the indignant expression smoothed to thoughtfulness as she cocked her head to the side. So like the Doctor when he talks with the TARDIS on those rare times he thinks I'm not there. Rose's eyes widened as she suddenly faded away. Shrugging, Rose changed into comfortable clothes—her nightclothes were in her suitcases—and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

She woke up to the sound of a car crashing into something. The sound of screeching metal and shattering glass had her awake in an instant.

"Bloody hell," Rose swore, hair messed and clothes wrinkled. Just how long had she slept? Sticking her head out the door, she saw the woman from when she checked in run up the stairs with a little girl, a different one than the one who had so rudely greeted her the night before. She had closed the door and was deciding whether or not to go back to sleep or not when she heard the scream. Loud footsteps passed her door as she ripped it open and dashed up the stairs. The group of people were in a room at the top of the Inn, where someone was sitting very still in a wheelchair.

Too still, Rose thought. She saw the woman weeping and hiding the little girl's face. Dead then. That's too bad.

The shorter of the guys turned around and swore.

"Dean?"

"Where did you come from?" the one called Dean demanded. "Shut up Sammy."

Rose made a face.

"She signed in just before you two showed up," the woman—probably the owner Rose thought—said as they made their way back down the stairs. "Although, I was beginning to wonder since you never left your room."

"I've been sleeping," Rose said.

"For three days?" Dean nearly shouted. Sam gave him a look. "Almost three days?" he amended.

Rose shrugged. "I was tired."

"What's a Limey like you doing in a place like this?" Dean finally asked.

"Dean!" Sam hissed and whacked Dean upside the head. "Sorry about my brother's rude behavior."

Rose nodded, accepting the apology. "I've had worse." And she had. The Doctor found the most 'interesting' places at times.

"If I may ask, what brings you to America?" Sam asked. Rose gave him a look, but it was clear he was genuinely curious.

"Traveling," Rose said simply. "I've never been, but I've heard a lot about it so I came to see the sights."

Sam just nodded. They were gathered at the front porch as medics came and saw to the elderly woman from upstairs. A medic talked with the owner softly away from everyone else. She just nodded and came back to them. "The medic's say it was another stroke. Do you think it could have been Margaret?"

"Is Margaret around?" Dean asked the little girl.

She shook her head. "I'd see her if she was around."

"Is she the rude little girl with blonde curls?" Rose asked.

The young girl nodded, subdued smile on her face. "She always played with me, but then she started going bad."

"You saw her?" Sam asked, cutting Dean off from what sounded like the same question.

Rose nodded, a bit confused. "Can't everyone?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other. It was the owner that spoke up. "She was a ghost."

"A restless spirit," Dean corrected.

Rose thought it over before shrugging. "Stranger things have happened." She slung her bag over her shoulder before heading to her car.

"Wait wait wait wait," Dean said. "You just saw a spirit, and you're perfectly fine with that."

"Dean," Rose said, very bland and straightforward. "If I told you my entire life story starting when I was eighteen you'd lock me up."

"We have a similar story," Sam said, getting a dirty look from Dean. "We travel a lot, and since you're traveling, want to join up?"

"Hell no!" Dean objected.

"Oi!" She called to the owner and her daughter, frowning on not catching their names. "Oi! You lot! The owner!"

Surprised eyes met hers. "You need a lift?"

"I have a cab," she called back.

"How 'bout I pay off your cabbie and I give you my car?" Rose called back.

"I-," Rose smiled as she was lost for words. The blonde went to her lovely car, pulled out her two suitcases, threw the keys to the lady, before heading back to Sam and Dean.

"My mate would absolutely love this car," Rose said as she stroked the shiny black exterior.

"I guess you can come along," Dean finally acquiesced. "At least you respect my girl."

Rose just shook her head. Throwing her luggage in the trunk, she hopped in the backseat. "So where ar we going?" she asked the guys.

"Probably stop by Ellen's place," Sam said. "But after that…"

"Anywhere," Dean said.

"Anywhere and everywhere," Sam added.

Rose smiled. "Sounds good." It wasn't Space and Time, but it was Here and There.

posted 12September2010