"The wolf, there's something of the wolf about you!"


Rose heard the noise clearly, her ears attuned to pick up even the slightest disturbance over the natural activity of the forest. The character of the sound surprised her, as she was sure she had outgrown that particular delusion a long time ago. And it had started out as such a good day, a sunny reprieve from the incessant storms of the rainy season. She knew it wasn't what it sounded like. It was the wind through a rocky tunnel or the groans of a dying animal fallen prey to one of her traps. Even so, it was worth investigating.

She bounded down the rocky hill to the denser thicket easily. The sloping terrain in this part of the woods proved little resistance. Rose was less familiar with this area but hunted here enough to know the way. In the vale below, she knew there was a clearing near the little stream she had nicknamed the Thames. The sound had originated there, carrying through the open air in the gap. Through shades of purple brush and trees, she caught a glimpse of impossible blue.

As she neared, Rose felt something warm radiating against her chest and gasped. Blood? She hadn't felt the telltale pain of pierced skin. Alarmed, she scrambled with her jacket to examine the area below. The TARDIS key was glowing and warming the skin of her chest. Well, that was new. She pulled the nostalgic trinket out and zipped up her coat against the chill. Trying in vain to squash the traitorous hope fluttering in her stomach, she trudged on through the dense foliage surrounding the glen ahead of her.

The police box sat conspicuously in the middle of the clearing not forty paces away. A sophisticated trick of her mind. She was so tired of playing out this fantasy. Tentatively she approached the glade until the door opened suddenly and she froze. The Doctor peeked out and surveyed his surroundings for a moment before his eyes fixated on her.

"Rose," he breathed reverently, solace shining in his eyes as his face split into a grin.

Reflexively, the Doctor ran forward to embrace her in sheer relief at finding her alive. He stopped abruptly after only a few paces when she raised her weapon at him, swiftly drawing an arrow taut with the bowstring. His arms flew up in a universal gesture of surrender and the overjoyed expression on his face fell immediately.

Shocked by her hostile reaction, he took in her appearance for the first time. He was sure this was Rose, the TARDIS had locked on to her bio signature specifically, but the woman before him was transformed. She was so slight, her lithe body made up almost exclusively of finely toned muscle. Her untamed mane of hair had grown out so it was now more honeyed brown than blond. She wasn't dirty by any means, but there was a thin dusting of dirt clinging to her skin and clothes that spoke of nature and exertion.

Denim jeans, ripped and torn and now cut off at the knees, were stained almost beyond recognition. Her worn leather jacket held up a fraction better, though it was looser where it had once hugged her body. She'd fashioned a quiver out of a length of plastic pipe and the belt at her waist was stocked with various tools to aid in her survival. The TARDIS key glowed where it hung from her neck. There were carnivore's teeth threaded on the chain, an uneven number on either side, like some kind of morbid abacus. He dreaded to think what it might be counting.

The Doctor took a careful half-step forward. "Rose, it's me."

Predatory eyes trained on him as she stalked cautiously to the right, keeping her bow drawn and aimed as precisely as her gaze. He turned, following her movements so he was always facing her. She trailed a wide arc around him until she was standing next to the TARDIS. Rose lowered her weapon slowly but never averted her sharp stare as she tentatively reached out to touch the painted wood. He realized suddenly that she doubted the reality of this situation. Through shock and exhaustion, she somehow thought this was an illusion.

"It's real, Rose," he assured her, treating her name with careful tenderness. He kept repeating it, as though he needed to convince both of them that's who she really was. "We're both real."

She laughed bitterly and finally spoke for the first time. Even her voice had acquired a hardened edge. "That's what you always used to say. Back when I still dreamed."

"You have to believe me," the Doctor told her sternly but not unkindly. "I'm here."

She scoffed, breaking their gaze for the first time to roll her eyes heavenward. "Why?"

"Why?" he repeated, dumbfounded. "To save you. Bring you back on the TARDIS. To rescue you."

Rose glowered darkly. "Too late. I rescued myself."

"Yes, I can see that."

She didn't respond. Instead she just continued to stare at him with an air of disbelief that he was even real. Her silence unnerved him. She seemed to have retired her weapon, for the moment at least, so the Doctor finally put down his tiring arms.

The TARDIS groaned in warning, a reminder that their time was limited. Rose jumped back in alarm at the sudden sound, gripping her bow and arrow at the ready and backing away suspiciously. Her eyes darted from the ship to the Doctor and back.

"Look, I'm sorry to rush you but we have to go now." he insisted hurriedly. "The atmospheric electromagnetic network of this planet is extremely delicate and landing the TARDIS here seems to exacerbate the electrostatic charge in the air. It's particularly dangerous in the monsoon season and I can't risk - "

"You caused the storm," Rose realized, cutting him off.

The Doctor stalled a moment, crafting his words carefully. "The ship was sabotaged; it was always going to fail. But dematerialising from the Vortex did somehow worsen the monsoon, yes. I didn't know that would happen."

This was all happening too fast. Months of pain, longing, and fear and now he turned up just like that with the easy answers. Rose was overcome. The anger surprised her, boiling over inside until the fire lit in her chest.

"You have no idea how long I waited," she rumbled, voice wracked with the tumult devouring her heart. "The things I've seen - and done - to survive. And you show up here out of nowhere and want me to come with you?"

"I'm sorry," he said, letting the genuine remorse show on his face. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't get here sooner. The storms, they - there's something off about this planet."

"I know," she snapped harshly.

He nodded. "Right." Then the terrible thought occurred to him. "Do you want to stay?"

"Until a few moments ago, I didn't have a choice."

The TARDIS sounded again and they both looked up to see the rooftop lamp flash, signaling the urgency of departure.

"You do have a choice," the Doctor assured her. "You always have a choice. But this time, you have to make it quickly."

Her face twisted with the heavy feelings weighing her decision. "I almost died here. The others, they..." she trailed off, as though the end of that sentence was too grave to be spoken.

"Rose, I'm so sorry. I want to help you. Please," he begged fervently. "Come with me."

To his dismay, Rose looked at the wilderness behind much like she had looked at London all those years ago. Even worse, she looked toward himself and the TARDIS, not with relief but with the fear and uncertainty of leaving something safe and familiar behind. In a nightmarish succession of nights and days, this place had become her reality, and him, his ship, their travels and adventures, had become the dream.

He held out his hand to her in offering. "Let's go home."

Rose didn't take it. She returned the arrow to its quiver, hung the bow over her shoulder, turned abruptly and marched through the doors and into the TARDIS. The Doctor had asked her for a split second decision and she made it. If this was a dream, at least it was a good one. She hadn't experienced that pleasure in a while.

After a moment processing his disappointment, he followed.

Inside, the Doctor quickly busied himself, dancing around the console to send them back into the Vortex. While the Rose he knew would normally comment on his driving, laugh at his antics, offer to help, or something, the Rose standing there now just stared numbly. She hung back at the top of the ramp, making no move to really enter the room. Once he was convinced they were safely adrift, he turned his attention back to her.

"Come on," he urged gently. "I want to take you to the medical bay and check out your injuries."

Rose narrowed her eyes dangerously. "If this really is the TARDIS, the only thing I want right now is a hot shower."

"All right," he agreed, nodding and running a hand through his hair anxiously. "Okay. That's good. A shower would be good. Tomorrow, then. We'll get you sorted."

"If you're still here tomorrow," she said blithely.

Without another word, Rose brushed past him, through the console room and down the corridor toward her old bedroom.

He stood there for a while, trying to make sense of the last hour. For the past week, he had replayed the agony of watching her fall in his mind until it nearly drove him mad. He'd been so afraid she had perished. Or that she was alive but lost to him for good. The days spent searching for her had felt like forever. But it appeared Rose had endured much longer. He wanted to know what she found on that island that changed her so completely. And on the other hand, he didn't.

The Doctor remembered the joy he had felt when the TARDIS finally located her. He knew she needed space, to re-acclimate herself to their old life and reflect on everything that had happened. But he couldn't suppress the overwhelming desire to be close to her. Resolved, he padded down the corridor after her.

Quietly he sat outside her door, listening to the shower water run so long he thought it might never end. When it finally shut off, it was only a few minutes until heavy footsteps sounded from the en suite and he heard the soft thud of Rose falling into bed. The room fell silent as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

The Doctor waited.