A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and support for the first chapter, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to be able to do weekly updates from now on.

Thank you to the lovely Lamia for pre-reading and to Latessitrice, my amazing beta. Latessitrice has made a fabulous banner for this story, the link is on my profile, so go take a look.

Hope you all enjoy.


Chapter 2

The book was different from any other children's book she'd ever seen. It looked old, ornate and expensive, not something you'd ever trust to a five year old. The words spiralled and twisted around illustrations, all of them just as perfect as the front cover. Rose read the familiar tale, even putting on a childish voice for Little Red Riding Hood. Tony giggled and played along all the way through, clapping once the last page was turned.

"I have a whole set of fairytales, can we read more?"

Before Rose could even open her mouth, Jackie yelled from the kitchen.

"Not now, Tony. Now it's time to get dressed."

Tony squealed predictably, squirming out of her lap and running as fast as he could in a different direction. Dressing meant washing, and washing was not something Tony Tyler enjoyed. Rose smiled to herself as the morning chase began, absently flicking through the page of Tony's story book.

"Big bad wolf," she murmured under her breath as she scanned the pages, the pictures melting into gold, black and red before her eyes.

#~#~#

"You have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, Rose. You too, Tony. Actually, you do as well Pete-I thought it was easier to get you all over and done with on the same day."

The three Tylers stared blankly at Jackie as she made her announcement on Monday morning, none of them awake enough to process this, and all of them none too happy about the upcoming visit.

"I don't need a doctor," Tony whined, almost spilling juice down his front. Pete quickly snatched the cup away from him, and in a voice remarkably like his son said, "Neither do I."

Jackie and Rose both rolled their eyes. "Tony, it's a check up, sweetheart. No more injections, I promise," she said as he glared at her. "Pete, if you don't like your monthly exam, then get another job. Are you going to argue with me?" she said turning to Rose, who held her hands up in surrender.

"Nope, I'm all good to go. Memory tests and blood samples, I know the drill. And now, gotta go to class."

Rose stood, dramatically kissed her brother loudly on the cheek, who pretended to push her away, giggling all the time.

"Have a good day," Pete called as she headed for the door.

"Remember we have company tonight!" Jackie called as she shrugged on her coat. Rose groaned as she headed out the door.

"How could I forget," she muttered, knowing this day was going to be both long and frustrating.

The traffic was its usual disarray for a Monday, and Rose almost wished she wasn't the one in the driver's seat, but automatically thought better of it. While she didn't mind the occasional lift from the chauffeur, she didn't like it on a regular basis. Having her own car was fine, and drew far less attention to her. Her face was already frequently in the press, she didn't need anything more eyes on her. She arrived at her lecture just in time, taking what was now her usual seat at the back. As the lecturer began what was already obviously a long and dull commentary on the foreign policy of eighteenth-century France, her mind began to wander. She scanned the room for anyone she recognised, any person that would trigger a memory. Of course, nothing happened. If it hadn't happened before, it probably wasn't going to start now.

She didn't know if she had any friends in her classes, but after missing almost three weeks of classes, no one came up to her on her return. It had hurt, even though she had no idea what her life had been like before. She couldn't even explain why she had picked a degree in War Studies, Government and Diplomacy. She enjoyed it, there was no point denying it. And it seemed that her memory was pretty much intact when it came to her studies, but sometimes her facts seemed a little off. She supposed that was normal though. Her isolation though, that couldn't be normal. She wasn't the typical undergraduate age, but she wasn't the oldest in her classes, not by a mile. She was in her second year too, and still no one even said hello to her. Rose had wondered when she first returned if she should try, but she had no idea if anything had happened before. Part of it, she guessed, was that being a Tyler meant her face was in the press every week. She wasn't sure she would immediately seek out the company of someone like that. But still...

The class ended, and Rose left quickly, her eyes filling with tears.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, swiping at the tears with her sleeve as she made her way out of the building and began the trek to the library. She practically ran up the seven floors to the top of Senate House, ignoring the burn in her chest as she did. She was running, always running. Running from the thought of who she was before, from the person she could be now, running from him...

She stopped in the middle of the stacks, her breathing echoing in the dark and grey room. She swallowed, her eyes focusing on the books in front of her.

There was no him. She didn't know why, but she knew, even as she stood here that there was no strange male in her life that she could be running from. The fact that she'd just thought that... She shivered, dashing out from between the stacks and to one of the small desks that looked as if it were part of the wall. She pulled out her laptop, trying to focus on the essay she had to hand in next week. There was no him. No man had chased her into a car and driven her off the road. No one had done that to her. Someone would have told her that. Wouldn't they?

#~#~#

She hid in the library until closing time, focused on her work, and ignoring the strange feeling she'd had earlier. As she left, she pulled out her phone, surprised to see she had four missed calls.

"What's wrong?" she asked as Jackie called for the fifth time as she walked out of the building.

"Where are you? Rose, it's nearly seven, you know we have company tonight!"

Rose groaned. She'd forgotten. "Mum, I won't be long, I'm getting in the car now."

"Hurry," Jackie snapped, before the line went dead on her. Rose glared at the phone, and remained annoyed all the way back to the house. She was tired and hungry, but really didn't want to deal with a Torchwood dinner. Her father was a work-a-holic, and every week there was someone from the office having dinner with the family. She spent most of the time making faces at Tony and trying not to roll her eyes at the poor man or woman's attempts at flattery. Except for when...

"Oh no. Not today. Any day but today," she moaned as she pulled up next to the bright yellow car parked terribly in the driveway. She wondered if it would be possible if she could ram it with her car, just for parking it that way. It was practically diagonal.

She slouched her way to the front door, opening it slowly, until Jackie yanked it open, causing her nearly to fall into her.

"What are you playing at?"

"Nothing," she hissed, before running up the stairs and straight to her room, hearing Jackie yell after her that dinner was in ten minutes. Rose shut her door and slammed her head against the back of the door in frustration. It took her all the ten minutes for her to make herself look presentable, and she spent that whole ten minutes hating herself for needing to do this.

She plastered a smile on her face as she walked into the dining room, conversation halting as she did.

"Good evening, Rose Tyler," he said, far more cheerfully than was necessary.

"Evening Doctor Smith," she said, glancing in his direction before taking her seat as quickly as she could. He smiled brightly at her, before turning his attention back to Pete and whatever they were discussing. Rose sighed and tried not to sink down in her chair.

If she was honest with her self, out of all her father's colleagues, Doctor John Smith was the only one she could remotely stand. He didn't try to suck up to Pete, and actually seemed to have a genuine interest in coming to dinner. But that was where her good feelings towards him ended. The man was a complete disaster. He was bloody annoying, arrogant and a little bit in love with himself. She'd seen him check himself out in a spoon before, and he constantly moaned about how terrible his team were. He always introduced himself with his title and name, and was deeply offended if someone called him plain old John Smith. He had the annoying habit of talking too loudly and too quickly, as well as gesturing so much he'd sent dishes flying on more than one occasion. He drove a bright yellow car, badly. She had no idea how he'd even managed to pass a test; he drove with the hand break on half the time. He was also, she thought, certifiably insane. She'd walked in on him licking the bathroom wall a few weeks ago. He wore converse with every outfit, even one pair that were tied together with string to prevent them from falling apart.

He was also really attractive, so much so that she couldn't be in his presence without at the very least brushing her hair. And that was what annoyed her the most.

In her opinion, he spent way too much time at their house. She was the only one who shared this opinion though, considering Jackie doted on him like a long lost son, and he was Tony's idol. He also, she thought, had some horrific past or home life that she wasn't allowed to know about. She'd been rounded on by her mum when she'd once wondered aloud if he even had a home to go to that wasn't theirs. She wasn't surprised though. He seemed to radiate pain and loss; it clung to him like a second skin. He laughed too much, smiled too widely and was just that little bit too enthusiastic about everything. He wore a ring around his neck on a thin silver chain, and she wondered if he'd lost his wife. Perhaps that was another reason he annoyed her. His sadness seemed to pull her down, suffocate her even though she had no part in it. It hurt, physically to be near him at times. She had her own pain, her own second skin to deal with. She didn't want his too.

"I've spent too much time in America on business, I can't see myself wanting to go there for pleasure," Pete announced.

Rose finished off the remainder of her dinner, and forced herself to listen to her parents and Doctor Smith discuss holiday destinations.

"I always fancied the Germanic Isles...just to you know, see." Jackie finished with a glance at Rose, as if this somehow had meaning. Rose shrugged, having no interest in a group of small islands Germany had claimed in 1564, and no other power in the world wanted. They also didn't have a beach or a pool, which Rose assumed were requirements for her mother. Jackie nudged her with her arm, and Rose smiled.

"Alright then missy, where would you go?"

"Barcelona."

"Oh, I never thought of Spain. We were gonna go there before Tony was born, do you..."

Rose stopped listening, her hands beginning to shake and her body temperature rising. She hadn't meant to say Barcelona. She didn't want to go to Spain, she'd been on a school trip and swore she'd never gone back. But she'd said Barcelona... Except she hadn't. Her mouth had moved, she'd used her vocal cords but she hadn't spoken. She hadn't said it.

This is all wrong. It isn't mean to be this way. I'm not meant to be this way.

Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona. She said it three times in her head and no, it wasn't a magic word. Her mind didn't flood with memories, and nothing fell into place. Then why was something different? Why did a place that had no meaning suddenly have meaning without her understanding it?

All wrong. So so wrong...

"Rose? What's wrong?"

Of all the people in the room to notice, it had to be Doctor Smith. It hurt. It really, really hurt, and just like so many things that had happened today, she couldn't understand why. She opened her mouth, not sure if she was going to scream, cry or tell him exactly what she really thought of him. In the end, she did neither. Her stomach rolled once, and before she had time to blink, she threw up on the table.

The whole room was silent. Rose clapped her hand over her mouth, completely and utterly mortified.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking, and tears spilling out over her eyes. Before anyone could comment, she stumbled out of her chair and ran for the nearest bathroom, collapsing onto the floor and dissolving into sobs.