Disclaimer: Doctor Who is not owned by me. This fic is not money-making.

A/N: This chapter is for everyone who wanted the reappearance of Rose and especially MontyPythonFan.

She catches a last glimpse of the Doctor's face before she is ripped away and darkness claims her.

She is falling very fast. And she is going to hit whatever is down there very hard. She curls her body protectively round her son, asleep in her arms, then hits something very hard. It hurts a lot.

Unfamiliar smells. Unfamiliar sounds. Unfamiliar bed. She cracks one eye open. Unfamiliar ceiling. Worst line of dialogue ever heading her way.

"Where am I?"

A female human leans over her. "Hello. You're on Earth Colony 2794, now known as Mayblossom." Mayblossom? Yuck.

"What's the date?"

"25th July 623,996 by Old Earth reckoning. That's how we measure time here. I'm afraid I can't tell you any other way."

"Oh, no. It's fine. Old Earth is just fine…Why am I here?"

"We found you out on the plain. Both your legs are broken."

"Can't you just, sort of, zap them better?"

"If we had the technology, but sadly it has broken. Ever since we declared our independence from the Ninth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, we have received no supplies."

"Why did you do that?"

"You are curious. I can tell you're not from there. We broke away because it was old and decadent, brutal in its neglect. It is a long and unhappy story. But we are learning. We are farming the land, using primitive medicine. We are living as people did over half a million years ago but perhaps that is good. Perhaps we need to start again, unburdened by technology."

"Primitive medicine?" Rose indicates her plaster-encased legs.

"Yes, that method dates back to the 20th century. A type of local rock, powdered and mixed with water, makes quite a good substitute. I'm afraid it'll take about six to eight weeks before we can take it off."

Rose ignores the feeling of déjà vu. 622001 years on, and they're saying the same thing she had heard in 1995.

They seem like nice people, but you can't tell.

"Where's Matthew?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where's my son?"

"Oh, the child you were holding. We took him to the nursery."

"I… I can have him back, can't I? You don't bring all the children up away from families or anything like that?"

"Of course you can have him back. This is a place of freedom, we welcome any. We're not going to take your child simply because he isn't human. Two hearts, though. Never seen that before. Could you tell us the species of the child's father?"

"No."

"Very well. We will not have anyone say we invade their privacy. Would you like to see him?"

He's brought in and she hugs him tight, one arm around his back and back up to her throat. Her Tardis key is not just not warm, it's so cold it burns her. A colony that has declared independence. Cut off from supplies, living the life of half a million years ago. No ships will be stopping. No space ships and definitely no time ships. And she cries quietly as she sees her life stretch out in front of her.

xxx

"The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round all day long." She sits outside, enjoying the two-sunned sunset, bouncing Matthew up and down. He chuckles.

"The door on the bus goes open and shut, open and shut, open and shut. The door on the bus goes open and shut all day long." On every "shut", she drops a hand in front of his eyes. He tries to swipe at her hand. She laughs, but a small part of her brain is delivering its verdict on the situation: If someone had told me, back when the Doctor first grabbed my hand, that it would lead to me sitting outside my cottage on the planet Mayblossom, over half a million years in the future, enjoying a two-sunned sunset and playing with my alien baby, I would have told them they were on something.

The suns are descending rapidly now. One is halfway past the horizon, or the ruins in the distance that make up the horizon. The giant structures became unsafe and were taken apart to provide building materials. She decides to skip a few verses.

"The baby on the bus says, "Wah, wah, wah! Wah, wah, wah! Wah, wah, wah!"
The baby on the bus says, "Wah, wah, wah!" All day long. But don't you go getting any ideas!" she adds sternly. One sun is now completely gone, and it's cooling rapidly. It's getting dark too, which is why she doesn't see the person who sits down on the other end of the bench. "I must say, you're the only person who's ever appreciated my singing. One more verse." She remembers the last verse. She always hated this verse as a child, it made her cry. But she's sings it anyway with only the slightest wobble in her voice. "The mummy on the bus says "I love you, I love you, I love you." The daddy on the bus says "I love you too." All day long."

Suddenly a voice comes from her left. "That is an Old Earth rhyme. How do you know it?"

She recognizes the voice. It's Lydia from the shambles that serves as a library.

"I… I don't know. I just, sort of, picked it up."

"That tune has been lost for hundreds of thousands of years. Who are you? Where do you come from?"

"I'm Rose Tyler. You know that."

"A name doesn't tell anyone anything. A name becomes the description of a person, rather than the other way round. Where do you come from?"

"A very long way away."

"In time as well as space."

"How did you…I mean, what do you mean?"

"You're a time-traveller, aren't you? One of the select few."

"I'm hardly posh!"

"What does that mean? Posh by whose definition? Where are you from?"

"What good will it do you or me?"

"My dear, this planet is a place of freedom. We didn't take your child just because he wasn't human and we're not going to lock you up because you're not exactly local. The only inconvenience you might suffer will be everyone's questions. Especially mine," Lydia laughs gently.

Rose considers. Everyone has been so kind to her in the year she's been here and Lydia already good as knows. On the other hand, she doesn't know if she's ready to tell them or anyone about the Doctor.

"I'm Rose Tyler. I was born in 1987."

"1987? You mean the 20th century?" She's incredulous, she hadn't expected the gap to be that big. "Were you…part of the timeline, or were your parents just passing through?"

"No, I was part of the timeline. Born in 1987, to a mother born in 1966, with a grandmother born in 1941. Started school in 1992, left school in 2003. Got a job, and left it in 2005, next stop the year 5 billion, to see the Sun expanding, destroying the Earth. Travelled for…about 5 years, I suppose. Had an accident, ended up here."

"Brilliant. What you must have seen… Millennium celebrations? First contact in 2005?"

"I was there." No need to elaborate.

"But I must say, time travellers aren't usually in the habit of taking souvenirs along with them. Who was it that picked you up in 2005?"

"Someone."

"And where does your son fit in? The someone who picked you up…the father?"

"Yes. And this is my business."

"You must miss him."

"Yes. And my daughter." Why am I saying this? This is none of her business. "His twin. I think about them. How much they might have changed."

"I suppose they do grow up quickly. Does Matthew look like his father?"

She glances down att the big ears and blue eyes, almost black in the darkness. "Sort of. In a way. Yes."

She doesn't know why she's about to do what she is. Maybe it's just the relief of being able to talk to someone about it. "Do you want to come inside?"

Inside, she lights the candles. They're trying to rig up some kind of hydroelectricity using the waterfall but no luck so far. She puts the now-dozing Matthew into the cot and tucks the blanket round him, trying to smother her thoughts. Seriously doubting thoughts. Thoughts that scream at her for being so stupid. The thoughts that had led her to build up a defensive wall around herself and her memories. But that's not Rose Tyler. Just a mask of anonymity. And she's sick of the confining walls.

"Squinge?" she offers.

"Oh, thank you. That would be lovely." Rose serves her a mug of the hot drink.

They sit in silence for a while. Rose breaks it.

"So who are you?"

"Lydia from the library. That's what everybody knows me as. I'm nothing special."

"Nowthat is where you're wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Rose rises and crosses to a cupboard, taking out a wallet.

"This is the only thing I had on me when I…had my accident." The image of her mobile as she last saw it comes to mind, sitting uselessly on her bedside table.

She pulls a piece of paper out and presses it into Lydia's hand. "Take this and read it later."

"What is it?"

"Just something I picked up years ago."

Lydia isn't fooled by the nonchalant manner. Whatever it was has to be important to Rose for her to have carried it around for years.

"Thank you," she says softly.

xxx

Months pass. Lydia and Rose become best friends. The poem that Rose gave to Lydia quickly becomes the expression of the ideals that this new society is founded on. Although they do have to change the word "human" to "living". It's copied out many times till everyone owns a copy. The hydroelectrics are finally working and the society slowly but surely stabilises.

Every day, Rose helps Lydia in the library and every night, they talk for hours. Rose tells Lydia about the 20th century and her travels. She never mentions his name, or talks about the Tardis. Lydia knows of "someone" and his ship. Then Lydia tells Rose of her life, what she's lived through. One night, she tells Rose about how her father was killed accidentally because he looked like someone whom the Ninth Great and Bountiful Human Empire needed out of the way. Rose shows her the photograph from her wallet, of the Doctor and Romana at Kallimonteg.

"You said he looked like his father."

"He does," Rose replies and leaves Lydia puzzled.

Matthew's second word is "lyddy." They're not sure what his first is, neither of them recognised it as a word but they know it wasn't nonsense syllables.

When sorting through piles of salvaged books at the library, she finds a book she recognises from the Tardis library. It's incomprehensible, the pages covered in the swirls and circles of Gallifreyan text. She takes it home; she knows Lydia will understand.

Matthew's second birthday comes around and Rose realises her son isn't a baby anymore. She and Lydia abandon the library for the day and spend their time gathering berries. It provides the juice for drinks, it can be crushed and frozen for ice lollies, cooked in pies and tarts, or simply left raw in dishes which the kids seize mushy handfuls from. They all get so coated in the stuff that the entire population under ten, and Rose and Lydia, are purple for two weeks.

She fills her days with work and play, takes pleasure in the smallest thing, and dreams at night. Dreams of the Doctor.

A/N: I know it's short. And slightly pointless. It's really just to establish Rose's situation. But I would really appreciate reviews. (Anonymous accepted.)