A/N - Hey all, I know you guys are reading this, lol. Thanks for the reviews but ty to Kirsten as well for your review. I can't reply since it wasn't a signed review so this is the best you're getting from me. LOL!


Chapter Eleven – Dreaming of Wolves:

That night, once more in the comfort of the TARDIS, she dreamt.

She had been running. She was always running in her dreams. This one was no different. If anything it was almost comforting, this endless running. As if nothing would ever be able to catch her to slow her down, to stop her. She would be this free always, she knew. If she could just keep running.

She was in some sort of concert hall. In the main room, overlooking the wide expanse of empty seats, she ran her eyes over the stage and the orchestra pit. All of it was empty. She didn't understand. She didn't care. She ran down the slight aisle, taking two steps at a time, stumbling and sliding. Still somehow managing to maintain her silence.

This was not the type of running she was used to. Nor the kind she liked.

She didn't know if she was running away from or toward something. She slid the last few carpeted steps and slipped slightly, her ankle taking the brunt of the misstep. But she barely felt it, barely felt the throbbing that flared. Coming to the end of the stairs she then darted for the small set of steps leading to the stage and she practically jumped those steps in one bound, landing clumsily onto the wooden stage. And as she did so, bright angry lights flared. She stood and spun, lifting her eyes directly into the light before throwing up her hand to block the spotlight.

The seats were filled. All of them. Every single one of them was suddenly filled. And every person filling those seats stared at her in silence, their faces masks of emotion. Fear contorted several of the faces, anger others. She didn't understand yet. She looked across the hall, every frozen face sending chills down her spine.

"Rose."

She twirled once more, searching the stage, her eyes darting up toward the rafters. She had heard his voice calling her. He always called her. A shadow moved above, the trailing of a long brown coat. Silent steps. Staring upward, she took off yet again, needing to keep his slippery figure in her sights. He had led her this far because she had been keeping an eye out for him. If she even blinked once she would lose him in the darkness of this place. She reached the other side of the stage and the orchestra pit was suddenly full of players as well, all with their faces distorted. The one that swiped at her pained ankle was caught in a silent scream of terror and it sent fear suddenly through her. Vaulting over the reaching hands, she landed to the side of the orchestra pit and wound about, disappearing behind the thick red curtains bordering the stage. And this darkness here was ever so complete, almost suffocating her.

"Rose."

The pain of her ankle lessened as his voice reached her and she slid out from under the heavy curtains into the backstage area. She didn't know this place. But all she had to do was keep running. It had worked for her up until then. She had no doubt that the running would get her through this as well.

Something waited for her at the finish line.

The area backstage was completely dark. She found herself stumbling over tables, odds and ends. Anything and everything that had ever been created in the existence of man was tripping her in the darkness. But there was a light ahead of her as she crashed into something that tumbled to the floor and shattered. A sign hovered just ahead in the blackness, seeming disembodied. An EXIT sign tinted red, flickering. She ran for it blindly, seeing it come closer and a moment later she was below it and her body had slammed into a hard surface. The wall shifted, became a door, and she broke through it, flinging it open with a strength she only ever seemed to have in this strange surrealism. She turned her eyes away as a gray sky blinded her with its sudden light. The door slammed behind her, shut once more, and as she whirled she found the door to be gone. There was a firm wall behind her with the crude sketch of a door in it. But as she ran her fingers over the sketch she encountered nothing but brick wall.

A sound came from above and she spun to look up, searching the sky.

A figure was climbing from a fire escape into an open window.

She meant to cry out, to order him to stop but nothing made it through her lips. As if all air had been blocked away, strangled in her throat. Cursing inwardly, she found herself to be in an alley. Racing down a few steps she came upon the metal ladder of the fire escape and threw herself on it, quickly beginning to climb. He was just ahead of her, barely a few steps. She could catch up. Reaching the window he had disappeared through, she crouched and followed, finding herself in an empty flat. She was in the kitchen area and as she darted through the kitchen into a dark hallway she caught a small glimpse of a drawing taped to the surface of the freezer.

A little blond girl with a red hood. Leading a wolf through green, green grass. She slid to a halt in the hallway and spun back around but there was no picture there now.

"Rose."

Turning back around, a shadow moved ahead of her in the living room, afternoon sunlight flickering. She threw one last glance back toward the kitchen but the room was now dark and empty of furniture. She didn't have time to think of it. Coming to the end of the hallway she slid into the living room and found it to be her own living room in her mother's old flat. She halted, struck dumb at finding herself in such a familiar place. Everything was in its own place, exactly as it had been left when…when…

"Run."

The front door slammed shut and she peered down that small hallway, sensing the absence of a former presence she hadn't even been aware of in the room. Quickly she ran toward the front door and pulled it open, peering out.

Down at the end of her floor, rounding the corner toward the staircases, she caught the ends of a long brown coat. Pulling her door shut behind her she took off once more, racing down the path, her feet making loud slaps across the cement. And just as she reached the edge of the pathway and rounded the corner, looking into the sudden darkness, she came face to face with a woman. She seemed to be a woman, rather. She was beautiful, with thick blond hair and light amber eyes.

And she glowed, her figure giving off golden sparkles, shimmering dust rising from her amber skin.

"Run," the Bad Wolf commanded darkly.


Rose snapped awake with a gasp, flinging her music player aside. Her earphone was ripped from her ear at the sudden gesture and there was resistance from the other earphone as well but she didn't understand what had happened until she heard the smallest sound of surprise beside her. Spinning a bit on the surface she rested on, she found herself to be on a small couch, in a dimly lit room. She had been resting her head on the Doctor's lap and had inadvertently fallen asleep.

"What is it? What's happened? What's wrong?" the Doctor demanded immediately and rapidly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as she sat up, disoriented. With his other hand he snapped a book shut and then set it aside on a small table to his other side.

She blinked, looking around, the room dark except for the small light of the table lamp beside the couch. They sat in what he called The Library. A large room hidden in the TARDIS, housing each and every book that he had ever read and enjoyed. Needless, the room was enormous. And somehow cozy. It was padded in soft plaid and muted colors, from overstuffed chairs to comfortable couches. The bookshelves themselves, along with a desk in the far back of the room was of a dark cherry wood, the floor of the same type but covered in multiple rugs. She was remembering vaguely how they had ended up in the room. He had wanted to read after the day they'd had and she had wanted nothing more than his company but not to be a bother to him at the same time. She had settled on listening to music while he had read. In the end she had still made a nuisance of herself, she knew very well. She had managed to make him listen to some of her favorite music on her player, hence the sharing of the earphones. He had been reluctant from the start, stating he would much rather read in silence but she had won him over and had fallen right to sleep on his lap, sharing her music. "I, um…" she whispered faintly, lifting her hand to her forehead as she looked around. All thought flew her mind, silence falling once more and they were left in the middle of it, the Doctor staring at her as she merely blinked in confusion.

Quietly, waiting for her, the Doctor leaned over toward the floor. He picked up her music player, rolling up her earphones and cradling it in his palm before sitting back to wait for her. She glanced at it momentarily, her hand sliding down from her head to hover over her mouth. "Um…I just had a crazy dream, is all," she replied finally from behind her palm.

The Doctor held out the music player to her sympathetically and as she lowered her hand from her mouth to take it from him, she found it to be trembling. She clasped her hand over her player and stared at it, forcing it to steady before he caught it.

But he never missed a thing.

With a small breath, the Doctor released her shoulder and placed his hand over hers, sandwiching her hand and her music player between his palms. "Ok, let me hear it," he stated in his no-nonsense voice.

She quickly shook her head, grimacing. "No, it's nothing-" she began.

"Rose," he said with a tiny bit of warning in his voice.

She looked at him, a quick dart of her eyes. His tone was the same voice that had been in her dream. Here, in the waking world, it was firm even as he had dragged out her name. In the dream he had whispered. The same way he had called to her, drawing her to Bad Wolf Bay what now seemed to be years ago. The mere thought of that name, that title, of Bad Wolf, caused shivers to race down her spine, her arms instantly breaking into gooseflesh.

He caught that as well. "Wow. What did that?" he asked her softly, his eyes shifting downward, his hands still clasping hers almost possessively. "The temperature hasn't changed a single degree since we've been in here so it must have been something you just thought. Something not good. Have to do with the dream?" And then his eyes were on her once more, almost penetrating her flesh.

She swallowed, feeling like a flower wilting under that gaze. "It was just a dream, Doctor," she mumbled and her words instantly sped up, jumbling together as she rambled on. "You know how dreams are. They're…weird and…wonderful sometimes and they make no sense, so really, I'm fine, it's nothing. We can just leave well enough alone," she said before coming to a dead and very firm end.

The Doctor stared at her for a long silent moment, his top hand becoming a bit more firm as she realized she couldn't make her own hand stop trembling. "Yeah…" he drawled, throwing his head back in thought. "That's not going to work with me this time, I'm afraid. I may let a few things slide with you, Rose Tyler, but the simple fact that your hand is trembling in mine leads me to believe you're not fine and I am rather intrigued by dreams. Yours especially. So out with it."

She gazed at him, reluctance shining in her dark eyes.

"Please." He pouted. Quite literally, before her very eyes, he pouted.

Her eyes darted down to his mouth, her expression and will power failing her. "Oh for goodness sake…" she sighed, exhaling wearily. "Fine, you…big baby." And she glared at him as a winning smile erased his pout, his eyes twinkling in a fight well won. "But it really is nothing, just so you know."

The Doctor cheerfully released her hand for her to retrieve her music player and as she shifted to sit on her rear a bit more comfortably, he found himself mirroring her. Dragging her legs in to cross them and then embrace them, she dropped her music player to the side of her, rolling the earphones up into a small ball. "Um, I don't remember…falling asleep," she began with a small sigh, casting a glance his way. He also had dragged his legs in, crossing them before him on the couch and somehow managing to fit his long legs on the cushion.

"You fell asleep rather quickly," he let he know, his hands falling to clasp his shins comfortably.

"Mmm," she nodded. "Music does that to me," she revealed. She leaned her head back, inhaling deeply. "It was…a weird dream. I barely remember it, really. But I remember…running." And she pursed her lips at the memory, the fear that had coursed through her as she had raced about from one place to another, from light to darkness and back again.

"Running is good," the Doctor said with a small smirk, his eyes hooded.

She glanced at him. "Yeah…not this kind of running. I mean…I remember thinking the same thing, about the running. Like nothing would ever hurt me or get to me if I just kept running…I was chasing after you, in fact," she said with dawning realization, her hand reaching to come down on his wrist. "Yeah. I remember that. I kept seeing…bits of you. From behind. Always turning a corner. Or disappearing."

"Always chasing after me? Even in dreams?" The Doctor asked her, interest piqued. And he wagged his eyebrows at her.

She tossed him a withering look. "Like you would even know what to do with me," she stated rather haughtily. And as he opened his mouth in response, a finger coming up to stress whatever point he had been about to make, she merely rambled right on over him. "Anyway."

He lowered the finger and motioned for her to continue magnanimously.

With a small inward smile she picked up where she had left off. "I was in this big hall at first. Like with a stage and big red curtains. And an orchestra right in front of the stage. But in the beginning I was alone. And I ran down the stairs to the stage and when I turned around the place was suddenly packed with people. And their faces…" She winced, her hand rising to hover over her face, her fingers clawed. "They looked like they wore masks. And all the masks were scared. Of like a scared expression, I mean."

The Doctor's glee had faded away and was now replaced with solemn blankness, an eyebrow arched in silence.

"They started to reach for me so I just…ran. I just kept running. And I caught a glimpse of you so I followed you out like a back door. And when I got out the back you had just climbed up a fire escape and into someone's window. I mean, it was my window in the end. But the kitchen wasn't my mom's kitchen. But once I got to the living room it was my living room. And you had just left. So I went running after you, out my front door and when I got to the end of the hallway outside…she was there." Rose came to a sudden stop, her breath leaving her then in a silent whoosh.

"Who was there..?" he asked her quietly.

She looked at him for a long moment, seeing herself reflected in his eyes. "Her," she repeated softly, eyes darting sideways and away from his penetrating stare for a moment but then quickly shifting back to look at him. "The Bad Wolf."

The Doctor straightened a bit, realization crossing his face. "I see…" he murmured haltingly. And then he frowned slightly. "And how do you know what the Bad Wolf looks like?" he asked her.

She blinked at him. "Well…she's me…" she said, the slight shadow of a grimace beginning to form on her face. "I mean…isn't she? Doesn't she? Look like…me?"

The Doctor bowed his head, merely staring at her.

She returned the stare. "Doctor?" she asked again.

His eyes lowered to her hands clasping her own shins tightly. Her knuckles were white from the effort but she had stopped trembling. "The Bad Wolf…" he murmured slowly, searching for words to describe her.

"It was me," she said again. "The Bad Wolf was me. And the person, the girl in my dream, she was me too. But beautiful. Like…really just…beautiful. And she glowed with all these sparkles all around. And her voice…"

"Beautiful?" he supplied for her, almost cheekily, his grin widening once more.

She hesitated in response, her lips parting. "Terrible," she whispered.

As the Doctor recoiled at her answer she merely bowed her head, turning her face from him. She looked down at her fingers as she released her legs and merely let her hands fall into her lap limply, silently. The Bad Wolf in her dream. She had begun to remember, not long after everything that had happened on Satellite 5, about the Bad Wolf. She remembered how hot the entity had been inside her, the heart of the TARDIS. Hot enough to burn, to sear her flesh from her bones. But at the same time, the heart of the TARDIS had been at her command, had brought to life any wish she had desired. And in the beginning the heat of the heart had cradled her, had comforted her. Only in the end had it become too much to bear. To see the woman's face, her face, glowing like that with the power of the TARDIS behind it…

She had been afraid.

She swallowed, her eyes darting in the direction of the Doctor slightly as he settled once more. "Was she…was I…" she whispered painfully, "Was that what I looked like?"

The Doctor didn't answer. And she understood that he didn't know what she had seen in her dream. But that wasn't the reason he hadn't answered her. He hadn't answered her because he hadn't known what to say to her. This time she did look at him, her eyebrows drawing up almost fearfully.

"Was I that…horrible?" she asked him faintly.

His lips parted, his head shaking wordlessly, and he reached out, taking one of her hands in his. "No," he replied quickly. And then he paused in hesitation, his head cocking slightly. "Well, yes, actually. But it wasn't your fault, how you looked. The heart of the TARDIS changed you for the amount of time it was inside you. It changed me permanently! I mean, this is what I became because of…of…"

Rose looked miserable.

He sighed. "My point is, yes. The Bad Wolf was a beautiful, terrible creature. But the motivations behind her were…were…they were good. They were your motivations! You did it all because you wanted to save me. And you did!" His hand squeezed hers, his eyes imploring her to understand. "The Bad Wolf was never an evil being, Rose. Not with you at the helm, as they say. You have a pure heart. You are a good person. The Bad Wolf would only have done good-"

"She was…evil," Rose said softly, ever so faintly. "In my dream. She was evil. I could feel it. And she told me to run."

"It was a dream," the Doctor said then firmly. And his tone cut her off, his free hand taking hold of her other hand as well and clasping it tightly. "Nothing more. Just a dream. One that's over and done with."

She nodded at him, at his words.

"Besides," he said, his tone suddenly cheerful once more, "dreams can't be taken at face value. Rarely do they depict what the problem actually is. They usually just disguise the true meaning in…surreal gibberish. Images and sounds that have nothing to do with the literal meaning."

Rose nodded once more, simply agreeing with everything he rambled on about. He would know, of course. But everything about the dream, the nightmare, had been so real and so frightening.

She was being silly. She really was.

With a small tug to her hand the Doctor turned and let his legs unwind and drop to the floor once more. "You were asleep for over an hour only. I think it's bedtime for you, Rose Tyler."

She came to a sudden stop, fighting his pull. "I…don't want to go back to sleep just yet," she whispered, dragging him back once more. "Can I just…sit here with you for a bit? Listen to some music?" And she added quickly, "I promise I won't make you listen to music with me."

The Doctor threw her a sardonic look.

"I promise," she murmured.

After a moment he said, "I have a better idea. Let's go, I'll make us some tea. We'll keep each other company until you start getting tired. Then it'll be to bed with you. Deal?" And he released her hand only to hold it out toward her once more, this time waiting for her to agree to his terms.

She took it after another silent second and shook it firmly. "Deal."


Next Chapter - Chapter Twelve: The Second Visit (Donna Noble Style)

Donna stared through the glass doors, scooting sideways to allow another person to exit, never once tearing her eyes from the pair. She didn't know that man, that version of the Doctor. The man who threw his head back and laughed loudly, nodding at whatever the blond girl said to him. Donna didn't know him at all. She recognized the dark hair and the lean frame clothed in his usual suit. But that man there, walking with Rose Tyler, was a complete stranger. She knew only of her own Doctor, with the circles under his eyes and the pain in their depths. The Doctor she knew, he was a mere shadow of this man in the store. Nothing more.