In a little townhouse on the edge of the city centre in Leadworth, in the bedroom on the first floor, facing the street, a boy sat under his bedsheets, a torch tucked into his mouth and a book before him. His eyes scanned the page hungrily and occasionally he flinched, flicking the light out and daring not to even breathe as he waited. Silently, he counted to thirty before flicking his torch back on and going back to reading. He mouthed the words as he recognised them, pausing rarely to form the syllables and whisper their sounds aloud. When he was satisfied that the word was indeed real, he continued on, his lips curving and pressing words rapid-fire.

Snap!

He jumped, the torch falling out of his mouth to drop onto the pages of the book. He scrambled for it, his fingers fumbling on the switch. He curled against the warm metal, listening.

Crrrrrrrrrrrreak.

He held his breath, waiting for his door to open, for his parents to walk in and start reprimanding him. He prepared himself for punishment, for his dad's anger or his mum's annoyance.

'Ohhhhh,' someone groaned.

He froze.

That wasn't his mum's groan. Nor his dad's. It was too soft. Too young. And yet, it was heavier than his parents'. Older.

Crrrrreak. Then, a whispered, 'Shit. Where am I?' A girl. Definitely. Young, but not old like his mum. But not as young as him either. More like Miss Peters's age.

This likeness gave him the boldness to throw his bedsheets back and flick his torch back on. His mouth fell open as the light revealed a woman, pale and bloody. Like, with actual blood. And if it wasn't blood, she was really late for Halloween.

'Oi!' she cried. 'Bit bright that, yeah?'

He stared at her, unblinking.

She held her arm up, shielding herself from the light. She winced at the motion and as if she had walked straight from a horror film, blood started oozing from a cut on her arm. A very big cut. It was at least three centimetres wide and ran from her elbow to her wrist. It was terrible. It was disgusting. It was the coolest thing that he had ever seen.

'Is that real?' he asked.

She turned her arm over, inspecting it like she had just noticed it was there. 'Yeah. Yeah, it is. It's pretty gruel, innit?' She lowered her voice like she was telling him a secret. Or like she was trying to not scare him. 'But it's not bad. If it were really bad, I'd know.'

'Hey, erm,' she shifted, squinting at him. 'You reckon you could tell me where I am?'

The boy straightened and recited, '42 North Hallbringer Drive, Leadworth.'

Slowly, she lifted her chin, making a small, "ahhh." She closed one eye, tilting her head towards him. 'So I'm in England, am I?'

He wrinkled his nose. 'Where else would you be?'

She grinned. 'What's your name?'

'Rory,' he answered. He stuck his hand out. 'What's yours?'

'Rose,' she replied, taking his hand. 'Rose Tyler.'

He looked confused for a second before nodding to her arm. 'That looks pretty bad. Whenever I get a cut my mum puts hygin-poxside on it. It burns. A lot.'

'Oh yeah,' she said. 'I know. I've gotten quite a few cuts in my lifetime.' She tilted her head, frowning. 'Or is it will get quite a few cuts?' She shook her head. 'Tenses are rather difficult. Point is, do you know where any is?'

Rory, unfazed by her odd behaviour, nodded. 'Uh huh. Do you want me to get it for you?'

'That'd be great, Rory. Thank you.'

He climbed down from his bed, his torch in hand. He paused before the door, turning round. 'My mum and dad are asleep,' he said tentatively. 'So… if you could be quiet?'

Rose smiled and held a finger up to her lips.

Rory smiled back and turned the torch off, venturing into the corridor.

He walked slowly, holding his breath until he couldn't anymore. At which case he tried to breathe really quietly.

He closed the bathroom door, turning his torch on and looking in the cabinet. 'Hygin-poxside,' he mumbled, turning bottles over and squinting at the labels. 'No, that's mouthwash… and that's Dad's shaving cream… oh!' He pulled out a box of bandages. 'She'll need this.' He grabbed a flannel and ran it under hot water for a second before wringing it out. He tiptoed back to his room, his supplies in tow.

'Rose?' he whispered, creeping in. 'Rose, are you here?' He didn't know why he asked that, there wasn't really anywhere she could go.

But then again, he didn't know where she came from.

'I'm here.'

He closed the door, flicking the torch on. 'Hi,' he said, going over to her. 'I couldn't find any hygin-poxside so I brought you a wet flannel and bandages.' He held up his arms.

'Oh, that's brilliant,' she whispered, taking the flannel and dabbing it on her arm.

He sunk to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. He watched as she wiped the blood away and applied the patches. 'So how did you get here?' he asked.

She smiled at him from over her forearm. 'You're just now wondering?'

He blushed. 'Erm, yeah.'

'It's kinda hard to explain,' she said. 'Give me a few minutes until I can figure out how to tell you, yeah?'

He nodded.

'In the meantime,' she continued, 'tell me about yourself, Rory.'

He thought for a moment. 'I'm seven.' He held up his right hand and his thumb and forefinger on his left. 'And… and…' He thought for a moment. 'And I like to read.'

She looked at him. 'Oh? Never got on to reading, me. Never had the time. But I had a friend who loved to read.' Her expression turned sad. But not sad-sad like she was about to cry. But sad like he felt when he was leaving his Nan's. It was the missing sad. Then she blinked and the sad was gone. 'What do you like to read?'

'I like fact books,' he said, standing and going to his bed. He got a book out from under his bedsheets, bringing it over to her. 'This one's my favourite,' he told her.

She took it from him, looking at the cover. 'Under the Sea: Life In the Deep.' She raised her eyebrows. 'You like the ocean?'

He took the book back, holding it against his chest. 'I like the animals,' he corrected. 'Especially the otters. Did you know they hold hands when they're asleep so they don't drift away from each other?'

'No, I didn't. That's a cool fact!'

He nodded. 'Yeah. Do you know any cool facts?'

She grinned, leaning in. 'Oh yeah,' she said, her voice low. 'I know lots of cool facts.'

'Like what?' he whispered.

'Like…' she trailed off. 'Like did you know that there's a planet where everything is frozen?'

His mouth fell open. 'Everything?' he repeated, unbelieving.

Rose nodded seriously. 'Everything,' she confirmed.

'How?' he asked,

'There was a great explosion,' she started, still whispering. 'It came from a war, a war of time and killer machines. And it blew up a star and the force the explosion left in its wake a black hole. The black hole swallowed everything around it slowly. There's a planet on the edge of its depths, that froze from the explosion of its sun, locked in its last moments, forever, by the chill of space.' She turned to him. 'You know space is really cold right? It's almost negative three hundred degrees!'

'Negative three hundred?' he cried. 'That's colder than it gets in the winter! How do astronauts even survive?'

'With special suits!' Rose said, standing up. She led him up his bed so he could stand up with her. He spread his arms out, jumping up and down. 'Or,' she added, secretive again, 'if you have a special ship.'

'A special ship?' he whispered. 'How?'

'Alien technology!'

Rory laughed, falling back. 'There's no such thing as aliens!'

'Oh yes there is!' Rose countered. 'How do you know I'm not an alien?' She raised an eyebrow.

He stopped laughing at that. He sat up, looking at her curiously. 'Because…' He took in her blonde hair, knotted and cut short, her clothes, a ragged blue tee shirt and black jeans with holes in the knees. He straightened and declared, 'Because you're a human. And you're not green. And you know what England is.'

'Just cos I know what England is doesn't mean I'm human,' she pressed. 'I had—will have a mate... have...' Then she said, more sure, 'I have a mate that knows what England is. Sounded like he was from England, as well.'

'Sounded?' Rory asked. 'Does that mean he isn't?'

'And he was—isn't,' Rose confirmed.

Rory frowned. 'Prove it.'

Rose held her hands out, gesturing around them. 'I'm sorry, Rory but he's not with me right now.' The sad face returned. 'I'm actually looking for him. But as soon as I find him, I'll prove it to you, okay?'

Rory didn't like the sad face. It made him feel sad. 'Okay,' he said. 'Promise?'

'Promise.'

He crawled across his bedsheets to lay against his pillow. 'Will you stay with me, Rose?'

'I'll try, Rory,' she said. 'Are you going to bed now?'

'I have school tomorrow,' he explained. 'Can… Can I ask you a question, Rose?'

''Course you can,' she answered, tucking the blanket around him.

'Are you my friend?'

She stopped, leaning over him. She looked him in the eye. He looked right back into hers, noticing how the colour was rimmed in gold. He never saw that in anybody's eyes. Maybe she was an alien.

'Do you want to be my friend, Rory? Because I'd love to be yours.'

'Really? You- you want to be my friend?'

'Of course I do!' Rose gave him a smile, an odd one with her teeth in it. He had never seen anybody smile like that. He quite liked it. 'Now, I reckon you need to get to sleep, yeah?'

He deflated. He definitely didn't want to go to sleep now. He was tired earlier, certainly, but now he wanted to spend more time with his new friend. His first friend.

'No…' he lied.

Rose waved her hand. 'Yes, you do. You've got school tomorrow, remember? Now go on, lay back. I'll tell you a story.'

'Could you tell me how you got here?' he blurted.

She laughed. 'You're really bent on figuring that out, huh?'

Rory nodded.

'All right. Okay. But you gotta go to sleep.'

Rory nodded again, more enthusiastically and pulled the blanket up to his nose.

'Okay.' Rose settled beside him, crossing her legs at the ankle. 'I've been all around. Everywhere. There are other universes besides this one, you know. And I've been searching…'