A/N: I had two betas for this chapter; TenRose4ever and Rose_Nebula. They are amazing!

He smiled, "Nice to meet you, Rose," and closed the door.

Once again, Rose was alone. She sat silently on the bed, staring at the back side of the door James had recently disappeared behind. She watched and waited, wondering if he would pop back in unexpectedly. Part of her hoped he would.

When it was apparent he wasn't coming back, Rose proceeded to get undressed, starting with her boots. It was a daunting task and Rose wondered if her strength would ever return. Was this a side effect of being in this world? Or was she just weak after her trip through the portal? Either way, she couldn't wait to get comfortable and climb beneath the covers.

After leaving Rose alone to rest, James went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Groaning, he rubbed his hands along his face. What are you doing?

He thought about what his sister would say if she knew he'd just found a stranger in the forest and brought her home. And let her sleep in her bed. He could almost hear that nagging voice in his head.

Dropping his hands, he looked down at them and thought about his reaction to Rose's touch, trying to make sense of it. That warm tingle he had secretly begun to crave. He touched his own arm experimentally, then his leg, the couch cushion, and the floor. Nothing gave that same sensation.

He also had an irrational fear gnawing away at him that something, or someone, was coming to take her away. He fought the urge to go back and check on her, just to see if she was still in there. The mere fact that the door was separating them was maddening.

He leaned back and shut his eyes, taking several deep breaths to calm himself. If he didn't relax, he wasn't sure if he'd make it through the night.

Rose slid between the sheets, drained from the effort of simply changing her clothes. She sighed as she rested against the headboard. Although she was exhausted and had told James she wanted to rest, she also felt lonely and yearned for his presence. Was it just that he was a friendly face, a source of comfort in this strange world, or was it something deeper? She recalled the pleasant tickle along her arm when their hands had first touched. Did everyone in this world connect in such a way? Or maybe there was a magic here she had yet to discover.

Of course, she wasn't entirely alone, she reminded herself. Straining, she reached for the stone, which was still tucked away in the pouch on her belt. She hadn't checked on it since she had entered this world.

Cradling it in her hands, she watched it silently. It still felt weak, but she could sense the small vibration prickling the back of her mind, reassuring her of its presence.

"Is this world making you feel sluggish too?" Rose asked the stone, not expecting an answer.

To her surprise, the stone glowed and gave her a lethargic hum.

Rose giggled. "Hopefully it's only temporary. I don't want to be a burden on James. I'm sure he doesn't want to waste his time taking care of a stranger and her pet rock."

This time the stone hummed with what Rose would consider insult.

Laughing again, Rose stroked along the sharp edge. "I'm kidding." She was glad to have a friend of some sort who understood what she was going through.

There was a knock at the door.

Quickly slipping the stone back into its pouch to hide it, Rose called out, "Come in!"

Slowly the door creaked open and James peeked in. "Sorry, I thought I heard talking and wanted to be sure you're doing alright."

"Yeah, I was just…" Rose paused, unsure how to answer. "…just talking to myself."

James took a few steps closer but kept a respectable distance. "If you need to talk, I… I can…" He rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his feet. "I mean, I'm not doing anything… in particular."

Rose felt guilty for invading his home and making him uncomfortable. She bowed her head and her voice shook."No, I'm fine."

James hurried over and dropped to his knee beside the bed. "No, I'm sorry," he quickly apologized and took her hand, surprising her. That warm energy was back, rushing up her arm from where their hands connected, instantly soothing her. She didn't miss the way James' eyes widened for a moment at the initial touch, but otherwise, he didn't acknowledge it. He cleared his throat. "I'm just not good at this sort of thing. Talking I mean."

"Well, you did a pretty good job of it earlier." She smiled and noticed a twinkle in his eye as he smiled back. "Honestly though, I wouldn't know where to start and even if I did, you'd think I was mad."

"I just found a girl in the forest, who pulled a knife on me, and now, not knowing anything else about her, I invited her home with me." He commented humorously. "Can it get any madder than that?"

Rose hummed in agreement. Maybe she could tell him something, return his trust.. At least a little bit. "Where I come from, it didn't feel so lonely."

"Because you had your family?"

Rose nodded. "That, and… we aren't so 'disconnected' with nature. It's not like here. Your forest, everything actually, is so quiet."

"That's sort of the reason I came here," James replied naively. "Because it's quiet."

He just didn't get it. "Nevermind," she huffed.

He moved closer and rested his arms on the mattress, not letting go of her hand. "No, go on. What do you mean about it being quiet here?" His thumb stroked her knuckles and Rose felt a calming reassurance from his touch.

"I can hear the trees." Rose blurted out. "Not here, but back home."

James' hand stiffened and he stared at her quizzically. "You… talk to trees?"

"Not exactly," Rose murmured. "It's like a feeling. You get an impression in your mind… I don't know how to..." She dropped his hand and drew away from him. "Forget I said anything."

"No." He began to reach for her but withdrew his hand, opting to run it over his short-cropped hair. "I'm trying to understand. It's just… what you're saying, it's not possible." He spoke sincerely, but Rose could clearly see the doubt in his eyes.

"Maybe not for you, but for me it is," Rose insisted. "Back in Powell, we coexist with nature. If you're lost, like I was today, the trees would guide you on the right path and if there happened to be an ogre nearby, they would warn you."

"Ogre," James stifled a laugh. "Sorry, but where in the world can you find an ogre?"

Not in this one apparently.

Rose was mortified. She thought this man was someone she could confide in and now he was laughing at her.

"First you tell me I can talk to you and now you're doubting everything I say," Rose snapped. She combed her fingers through her hair, biting back tears. "Just go. Let me get some sleep and I'll be gone by morning."

"Rose, I…" James stammered out the beginnings of an apology..

"Go!" Rose pointed at the door. She refused to look him in the eye.

Sighing, he stood up and slowly shuffled out the door. He looked back at her and opened his mouth to say something, but instead left his words unsaid and turned away, closing the door behind him.

Rose watched him leave. She laid down and pulled a pillow over her face to muffle her sobs. She had thought she had felt lonely before, but this was so much worse. This world was empty and if everyone was like James, it had to be a very sad place.

She didn't cry for long before exhaustion overtook her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

After leaving the bedroom, James rushed down the hall and out the door that led to the porch. Ignoring the rain, he paced back and forth, dragging his hands along his scalp in frustration and wishing he had some hair to grab onto.

She had confided in him and he had humiliated her. Why are you letting this get to you? Blimey, you just met her. She's a complete stranger. He'd had no business taking her in when he could have just driven her to the nearest hospital instead. Then she could have gotten a mental health check, as well, while she was there.

But just the thought of abandoning her like that made James feel hollow.

He dropped into his father's chair and stared out at the trees, still thinking about all the mental things she had said. Rot and nonsense! Talking trees and ogres were the stuff of legend and fairy tales.

He looked at the ring on his finger and thought back to the day his father had given it to him, on that very porch, of all places. It had been raining then too. The two of them had been sitting quietly alone, when his father had slipped the ring off his own finger and had handed it over. James had thought the story of the ring was ridiculous, even back then. Despite his skepticism, he had accepted the ring graciously, knowing how significant it was to his father.

While his father had told him the story about the day he had met James' mother, James had not been able to stop wondering how a ring that had supposedly been passed down for generations could fit his own finger seamlessly. He had looked at his father's hands: broad, with thick fingers, so different from James' long, slender ones. It didn't make sense. But he had chosen not to overthink it.

Ridiculous or not, James had held onto a small glimmer of hope that such a tale could hold any truth. That feeling had faded as the years went on. According to his father's stories, his ancestors had found their 'true love' within a year of two of owning the ring, but James had already worn it for nearly eighteen years.

In the back of his mind, he had thought maybe Rose was that person, but his father had never mentioned anything about the strange kind of sensation he had experienced when his hand had met Rose's.

Thoughts of impossible things began racing through his head: an enchanted ring; mythical creatures; and a mysterious girl who had a magical touch and could talk to trees…

This is absurd.

He stood up, yanked the ring off, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "You told me all these phony stories, hoping I would fall for them," he cried out to the heavy grey clouds, showering his face. "It's just a ring!"

Leaving a wet trail of rainwater behind him, he marched back inside, to the living room, where his mother had kept a small wooden box on the fireplace mantel. He had never understood why she had kept it, since it had remained empty to this day, but his mother had collected a lot of pointless items. He lifted the lid and tossed the ring in, slamming it closed.

He stormed into his bedroom muttering, "stupid magical nonsense," under his breath, and peeled off his wet clothing. After slipping into a pair of flannel bottoms and a t-shirt, he fell into his bed. It was still early, and he hadn't planned on sleeping yet, but that didn't stop his eyes from drifting shut.

James walked along the hallway toward the living room. It was dark, but a dim orange glow from the rising sun gave him just enough light to see. When he was a boy, his father had often wakened him up around this time to watch the sunrise with him. James had always put up a fight, and his father would often have to physically drag him out of bed. It hadn't been that James disliked it, he had just liked sleeping better. But he had also enjoyed the quiet mornings the two of them would have alone together and had eventually given in.

He approached the balcony door and stared up at the morning sky as he stepped out.

"It's about time!" a voice boomed from behind, startling James.

He spun around and fell back a couple of steps when he saw his father standing behind him. James had forgotten how tall he was and he had to look up to meet the blue eyes that matched his own. James had also inherited his father's ears, but they paired well with his beard. His father still had a head of thick hair, but it had become more grey than brown as he had aged. He wore a dark blue button down oxford and black trousers that James had often remembered seeing him wearing while alive. Overall, he appeared well groomed and looked as distinguished as ever.

His father smirked. "Even as a grown man, you still sleep like the dead."

James stared back at him, completely flabbergasted. Obviously, this had to be a dream.

"Oh, come on," his father whinged when James didn't react, "that was funny." He grasped James by the arms and pulled him into a firm hug, patting him on the back.

Dream or no dream, James wasn't going to waste this opportunity, and he hugged his father back.

Upon separating, his father grinned at him, when suddenly... THWACK! He smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!" James stumbled backward, rubbing the sore spot on his head, exaggerating the strength of the blow. His father had never been rough with him. "What was that for?"

"For you acting like an idiot," his father scolded him. "You help a lost girl in the forest, bring her back here, and although you feel something extraordinary with her, you dismiss it." His father walked to the railing and braced his hands along it, looking out over the pond. James joined him by his side.

"I especially like the way you laughed at her when she tried opening up to you," his father huffed with a shake of his head. "All that schooling has made you too smart for your own good."

James wasn't sure how to respond. This entire dream was unreal. He looked over at his father, who stood nearly three inches taller than he did. He felt as if he were a child again, being reprimanded for one of his many antics.

His father stared at James' bare hand, void of the ring, and sighed. "When your grandfather gave me that ring many years ago and he had told me that tale, I thought he was mad too. But like you, I accepted it and continued to wear it in honor of tradition. It wasn't until I had met your mum that I realized the tale was true."

"People fall in love every day; they don't need a special ring to do it," James commented. "You met mum because she happened to work at the shop you would make weekly deliveries to." He leaned forward against the railing to stare down at the water below and grumbled. "The ring had nothing to do with it."

THWACK!

"Ow! Will you stop that," James griped.

"I will, once you get your head out of your arse!" His father warned him. "Nothing happens by coincidence. You found her because you were supposed to find her, just as she was supposed to find you. Now that she's here, taking that ring off isn't going to change that."

As his father lectured him, the adolescent side of James emerged, and he rolled his eyes.

"All these years and you're still as stubborn as ever," his father groaned. He turned to face James. "You need to stop listening here," he tapped James' temple firmly with his forefinger, "and begin listening here." He patted his hand over James' heart with a hard thud.

James laughed him off dismissively. "I suppose you're assuming I'm going to fall in love with this girl at some point."

"Oh son," his father chuckled at James' obliviousness, "you already have. You just don't realize it yet."

James' brows drew together, and he looked over at his father, bewildered.

"As long as you don't screw it up with your foolishness," his father warned. "Don't make me send your grandfather next time."

"Next time?" James shook his head. "This is a dream."

His father reached over and pinched James' arm sharply, causing him to yelp in pain and pull away.

"Still think you're dreaming?"

James massaged his arm, scowling back at him for being punished. Although his father did have a point. Why did this dream hurt so much? "So, you're telling me, you want me to pretend her stories about fairies or whatnot aren't completely mad?"

"No, I'm saying you need to keep an open mind when she speaks to you. She's unbelievably far from home and she's all alone. Many things you find ordinary are going to be strange and new to her. Just as her stories will seem odd to you. Only she's a bit more broad minded and willing to adapt than you have been." His father paused and looked into the cabin with concern. "She needs you. You better go. And hurry."

"What?" James turned to see what his father was referring to and saw only darkness. His face contorted in confusion and when he turned back, his father was gone. He spun around to see if he was behind him, but found no one.

Suddenly, James' eyes snapped open and he found himself back in his bed. Without stopping to process his dream, he was on his feet and rushing out of his bedroom, straight into the room where Rose slept.

She was thrashing about, having what appeared to be a very violent dream.

He dashed to her side. Not considering the repercussions of waking her so abruptly, he began shaking her awake. Seconds later he found himself face first on the mattress with his arm wrenched painfully behind his back.

"What the hell!" he cried out, unable to move. "You were having a nightmare!"

She released him, sliding away while peering around at her unfamiliar surroundings. "S-sorry," she stuttered.

He sat up, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. "I see you got your strength back."

Rose brought her knees to her chest and rested her head down on her arms. She was still shaking.

He scooted beside her and placed a hand on her back, "It's alright, it was just a dream. You're still here where you're safe."

"That's just it," she sobbed. "I was still here. Trapped on this side as I watched them all being slaughtered, and there was nothing I could do to stop him."

Trapped? Slaughtered? Stop who?

James reached toward the lamp and switched it on. Rose lifted her head and glanced over at the light, her brows furrowing a little, before sighing and burying her face back into her arms to close herself off from him.

Knowing it had been his fault for losing her trust in the first place, he wanted to make it right. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rose shook her head, but kept her face hidden. "You wouldn't understand." She sniffed, "I'd rather not think about it, honestly."

"Right…" James sighed and tried thinking of what to do when a memory from his childhood flashed back to him. He hopped up, "Gimme a minute," and left the room.

Rose peeked out and found James had left. She closed her eyes and returned to her position, trying to erase the images from her mind. She had failed them all. She had fought so hard to go back and save them, but she couldn't get through the glass wall separating their worlds. She kicked and punched, but it was useless. The last thing she had seen before James woke her was the Master grinning back at her menacingly.

It was only a dream. That's not going to happen.

She repeated those words to herself, over and over, the rhythm comforting her, when she heard footsteps approaching. Did she even want to see James right now?

She felt the bed sink as he sat down beside her. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at him.

He handed her a bowl. "When I was little and would have a bad dream, my mum would always bring me ice cream."

Rose accepted the offer. "Did you have a lot of nightmares?"

"Not really." He swung his legs up on the mattress and adjusted the pillow as he lounged beside her. "But she had always kept some in the freezer, just in case. And as we ate, she would tell me a story, or we'd play a game. Anything to get my mind off the dream."

Rose took a spoonful and tasted it, delighting at the flavor and the smooth texture that cooled her tongue.

She watched him as he poked his spoon around his bowl, seemingly deep in thought. He no longer looked tense, but rather relaxed, lying on the bed beside her as if he belonged there. She found it even more surprising at how little it bothered her, if at all. It just seemed natural.

"What happened to her?" Rose worried the question was too personal, but she hadn't considered that before she spoke.

James kept his gaze on the ice cream. "She died in a car crash, along with my dad… about 15 years ago."

"Oh…" She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by car crash, but that wasn't important right now. "I'm sorry."

He glanced up at her briefly and away again, but didn't say anything.

They ate silently for a moment, and once he finished his bowl, he placed it on the table beside him. "I haven't wanted to come back here since that day."

"Because of the memories?" Rose passed him her empty bowl to place on the table with his. Now that she wasn't eating, she didn't know whether to sit or lie down.

"Memories and a bit of guilt for not spending more time with them during their last couple of years alive," he replied.

Choosing to mirror his position, she stretched her legs out, and rolled onto her side, facing him. "What made you come back after all these years?"

"I don't know," his tone lightened, and he returned his gaze to her. "I knew I wanted to take a break from everything and everyone. Then one night, about two months ago, I dreamt about being here. I remembered how quiet and peaceful it used to be, and when I woke, I had this overwhelming urge to visit."

Rose watched as her hand crept along the mattress, as if by its own accord, to meet his. "I'm sorry for dropping into your forest and disturbing your visit." It was a lighthearted comment and she smiled at the sensation she felt between their fingertips as they brushed together.

James turned his hand over, accepting her's. Once their hands clasped together, he closed his eyes and sighed with relief. Upon opening them again, he grinned at her. "I'm glad you did."

Rose yawned and rested her her head on the pillow.

"You should rest," James whispered and began to sit up.

"Can you stay?" Rose tightened her grip to keep him from leaving. "Just for a bit? I don't want to be alone."

"Okay," he said quietly and laid back, resting their joined hands over his heart.

Rose was at peace and inched a bit closer to him. She thought about her journey and how weak and confused she had felt those first few hours upon arriving.

She felt herself drifting to sleep and murmured, "Well, I'm grateful you coincidentally chose now to visit, or there may not have been anyone around to help me."

He didn't say anything at first, but she felt his hand slightly tremble. She worried she might have done or said something wrong, but he soon began to calm. He held her hand a little more firmly "Nothing happens by coincidence, Rose."

"Do you really believe that?" She whispered, nearly asleep.

"Yes. I do."