Wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey. I apologize if anything is confusing order-wise, but this is Doctor Who, so… This story occurs in order for the Doctor, generally. I'm planning on tying it in with a Supernatural companion/sequel; however, they should be separate enough that you don't have to be a fan of one to read the other. Enjoy!

Vale Dacem

"We will sing to you, Doctor. The universe will sing you to your sleep."

The Doctor struggled to his feet and shuffled through the snow. Alone. The TARDIS seemed so far away. His one constant companion and she couldn't even help him in this. He was alone.

All the companions. All the struggles. All the death and suffering and destruction for this limited universe. For what? In the end, the Time Lord would always be alone. He could forget. He could cling on to the memory of a lost love or a dear friend. All gone. In this life alone, he had lost so many, no matter how hard he tried to save them.

And he always gave his life for them, in one way or another – always to save mortals who had probably never seen the glory of his people. Earth was safe yet again. He had saved his dearest companions one last time and said his goodbyes, but they were gone. They would all move on, but he would perish – become nothing more than a memory in back of an old man's head. He would be gone and a new man in his shoes would go sauntering off. There was so much that he still wanted to see with these eyes. He felt like his life wasn't complete.

His mind was scrambling, almost completely void of the control that should have matched his age. After what happened with Wilf, he had practically experienced what would be considered a mental breakdown. Maybe it was time for him to go.

The Doctor stumbled again, wracked by pain…but something caught him before he hit the ground. He grasped at the arm that was tightly wrapped around his chest. A blue light danced before his eyes as his limbs gave up the good fight. He thought he saw someone, but he couldn't be sure.

"So, what do you think?"

The Doctor blinked a few times and quickly took in his surroundings. A restaurant – possibly 1940s Earth.

"What?"

The girl sitting across from him laughed and sipped her coffee. She had brown hair in a pixie cut, big brown eyes with black eyeliner, and a sweet, flawless face. She was tall, skinny, and awkward-looking. The stranger bit her bottom lip to hide her grin at the Time Lord's look of bewilderment. He quickly checked his reflection in a spoon. Had he cheated death yet again? Was he going mad?

"Something wrong, Doctor?"

The Doctor looked back at the woman with a slack jaw. She was wearing a medium blue, short-sleeved shirtdress with a sash belt and four wooden buttons. Her high-heel shoes were flicking about flirtatiously under the table. His own clothes showed no signs of the abuse he had put them through while fighting the other Time Lords.

"Excuse me. Do I… Do I know you?"

Another enigmatic grin was the answer. She seemed familiar – like he had seen her in passing once.

"Not yet, that I know of."

"Brilliant. Another one."

"Ah! I suppose you met Professor Song?" The Doctor snarled in frustration and scrubbed at his hair. The woman cleared her throat to catch the waitress' attention. "Uh, two slices of apple pie, please." She sighed as the waiter walked away. "I love England, but there's somethin' about good ol' American pie that you can't find anywhere else."

Something suddenly became clear. The Doctor leaned back with a victorious smirk.

"You don't happen to know Captain Jack Harkness, do you?"

"Ha! The man just says 'hello' and you're a lost cause. I've been traveling with him a bit, actually."

"That's Jack." The stranger seemed to forget the subject when the pie arrived. "I've seen you before."

"Maybe in a past life," she replied while chewing. "At least, that's what you told me. I think. It's all quite confusing. Now, eat your pie, sweet cheeks. On me." He just stared at her. "I won't answer any of your questions until you finish your pie, sir."

He begrudgingly obeyed, all the while studying his surroundings. It looked like 1940s England. It smelled like 1940s England. 19…46, to be exact.

He pushed the plate away.

"Well, Time Lord, I guess you really want those answers. Shoot."

"Ten minutes ago –"

" – I saw you." He stared at her blankly. "Just joking. Please continue."

"Ten. Minutes. Ago. I was dying. I was regenerating. But then…"

"Someone caught you? You suddenly woke up here?"

"Exactly. Care to explain?"

"Walk with me." She paid for the pie and led him onto the sidewalk. "Post World War Two. The future is bright and the streets… Well, the streets can be perfect or filthy, depending on where you go. Some people act like the world is safe; others are looking over their shoulders constantly." She suddenly stopped with her arms crossed. "This is one of my favorite times on Earth. So much emotion. So much chaos. So much hope. And they're all so clueless. I use to be like that until… Sometimes, I wish…" She shook head. "Don't you ever wish you could be that innocent?"

The Doctor, hands in his pockets, tolerantly replied,

"Frequently. But, after all I've been through, I remember I did save some of them, and I try to convince myself that it's worth it."

"You've saved all of them, Doctor. Countless times. I've saved a few, but… Compared to you, I'm an insect."

The Doctor breathed a laugh.

"I have yet to meet someone who actually has that little meaning. How do you go about saving people? Do you destroy planets, like I've done?"

"Oh, no, nothing so drastic," she waved him off.

"Come on! You're one of those rash Americans. You people are more than happy to shoot first and save people later."

"Please. Don't let the stereotype fool you. There are plenty of Americans who think the cops will save them from anything, anywhere, and anytime." She winked mischievously. "I, however, happen to know that monsters are real. I did almost get arrested a little while ago, but that's for another time – fortieth century – bad business."

"Who are you? And what are we doing here?"

The girl suddenly looked thoughtful, her smile going crooked and eyes looking at the ground as she hooked her hands into the pockets of her dress.

"Determined, aren't you? You saved me once or twice– a long time ago, far in the future. You were there for me when I suddenly found myself completely alone – you saved me – and it's time I returned that favor. Took me long enough. You told me a little secret, Doctor – how terrified you were to die alone today. Of all of the times you changed faces, you said that this one was perhaps the hardest. While, in the future, you won't see it the same… There were so many times when you wouldn't have time to really dwell on the fact that you were dying; and you so often had your companions with you. But, this time, you get dosed with radiation that kills you slowly enough for you to visit a good many of your companions. And you still die alone. Don't tell me I'm wrong."

"Who are you?" he protested.

"But even through all of this – your grief, your pain – you show your true colors, Doctor. You saved an entire civilization and, perhaps, the universe from the chaos of the Time War without even a thank you. And you survived. But then you gave your life…for one old man." She smiled kindly. "Never cruel nor cowardly."

How did she know him or any of this?

"This place – it's not real, is it?"

She shrugged.

"It's in my head, but I needed somewhere we could talk where time didn't matter so much for you. I'm sorry, but… The reality is that you're still lying in the snow, dying in my arms."

"Why are you here?"

The woman held out her hand and waited until he took it.

"Because I don't want you to die alone, Doctor. Now, come along."

The Doctor felt the arm yank him upwards, back onto his feet. He could still hear the Oods' song, but now he could at least see straight. The TARDIS was right ahead. The living crutch at his side ensured that he kept going. He hadn't cheated death. He was still going… But he wasn't alone.

He managed to reach the door and stagger inside. He tossed aside his trenchcoat, steadied himself, went for the console, and started flipping switches. He could feel it coming. He was losing himself. The man he was…was dying. And he was…terrified. He was forgetting something… But it wasn't the trembling horror he felt only minutes previously. He remembered the woman.

"The regeneration can be dangerous. It might not be safe for you."

The stranger sniffed a laugh and tapped on a device on her wrist – a vortex manipulator. She was decked out in blue jeans and a black hoodie, and a light web of white scarring stretched around her eyes. She looked older than before, and her hair was long and red.

"It's only dangerous if you're not trying to protect someone. But I'll be long gone before this place goes up in flames. Besides, I shouldn't be the first face you see. Technically, I shouldn't have been the last face you saw, but…oh well!"

The TARDIS was off and he could see the effects of his regeneration already.

"Why?" he questioned, his voice empty.

He didn't know this woman. Maybe he might as well have been alone. He looked at his hands – no cuts, bruises, or scars anywhere. He would never see those hands again. It would be someone else. He would be remembered, but it wouldn't really be him. All the passion he had known would be someone else's story. He would simply be…gone. He looked at the woman one last time; her smile was sad and contemplative.

"Trust me, you will be remembered. Goodbye, Doctor. I wish I could see this you during happier times, but…I suppose we'll run into each other again, in another life."

"I understand, but still…" The Doctor raised his hand up, staring somberly as it started. There was no escaping it this time. His time was over. No more. "I don't even know your name."

"You'll find out eventually. I wish I could stay, but I…I can't. I know you're scared, but you're going to be brilliant. See you around, Doctor. And let me just say...thank you. For everything."

He had looked away only for a second to glance back at his console, and she was gone. The crushing sense of loneliness returned, but he was a little more at peace. He didn't even have the chance to thank her.

"I don't want to go," the Doctor sighed.