He turned back around and went to the door. The least he could do was offer help, right? He opened it and asked "Why are you here?"

She looked at him with widened eyes for a second before catching herself. She wiped her eyes with her sleeves. "I'm stuck."

"You're from a parallel world, right? Maybe I can help you back?"

"No, it's impossible. The walls are closed. Completely. Other you said so."

"And you trust that guy?" he said, jokingly.

He sobered up when he saw the look on her face. He softened his tone. "Right. Is there anything I can do?"

There were a lot of things, but none he'd be bound to agree with. Even a hug seemed a bit out of bounds. But she didn't want to let this unique chance go to waste—there had to be something she could get. Maybe something of remembrance? Some of the knick-knacks she'd gotten over the years, some gifted, some found herself. Her favourite jumper, even. She never did get the chance to get her stuff. "Actually, yeah. Could I get some stuff from my room on the TARDIS?"

He opened the door completely and walked back inside the TARDIS. She followed him inside, rubbing her eyes a bit more. Closing the door behind her, she once again took the TARDIS back in. She smiled at the ceiling before moving to the hallway.

She wasn't exactly sure if the TARDIS was also connected physically with the other one, but there'd be no harm in trying.

"Do you want a tissue?"

"No, thank you."

Fortunately, her room appeared pretty quickly. The door was a little bit different, but she couldn't place her finger on it. She didn't care too much about the door, as she opened it and went inside.

The Doctor looked a bit odd at the door, but eventually leaned against the wall on the outside. She took her time, since time didn't matter for a while.

She noticed a few things were a tad different. When she had left, she didn't know she was going to leave, so her room was a complete mess. It wasn't particularly tidy, and frankly, extremely dusty, but it was still odd. A shirt misplaced, or a jumper, folded, that she usually never folds. Then again, it had been a year ago. She just figured her memory was failing her on this part. The knick-knacks on her shelf were all the same.

She grabbed one of the bags lying around and started putting a few inside. A rock, a deck of cards, some thing she would never be able to pronounce, a music box, and tons of other stuff went in. She opened up her shelf and took a few of her favourite clothes. One of them being his leather jacket that she'd kept. She had never told him, but she figured he wouldn't need it again after he regenerated. It was way too big, so for now, she just tied it around her neck loosely. She also took a few books that he would never have allowed her to show the 21st century, among one of them a Gallifreyan children's book, which he had so kindly 'interpreted' for her. She chuckled to herself as she remembered his insistence on the word 'interpret' instead of 'translate', since the English language could never compare.

Then, in her drawer, a photo album. She didn't dare open it in fear she would burst out in tears. This had everything: from her as a kid with Mickey to Captain Jack to the Doctor's newest regeneration. That one was going to hurt.

She took all of the stuff and walked out of the room. The Doctor was staring at the ground, unmoving. Before Rose could say anything about it, he spoke up. "You done, Susan?"

She didn't answer. She hadn't expected that in the slightest. Who in the world is Susan? The Doctor looked up at her. His face softened as he saw her confusion.

"That's—That's not my name," she said. "Where'd you get that from?"

He made a face before nodding at the archway of the door. She looked up; it was something that she recognised as Gallifreyan, carved out at the top.

That was new.

He pushed himself off the wall and stood closer, still looking up at the engravement. "Arkytior, which is Susan. Odd that he'd write the wrong name, considering all the trouble."

It's not a name he had ever mentioned before. But surely, he couldn't have gotten it wrong? If this version knows it was wrong, surely he would? She looked back down at him. "Susan? Is that like code or something? Like… Benjamin being the firstborn son."

"We-ell, could be," he shrugged. "Don't ask me, I didn't do that."

Going through all the trouble of carving something in wood and not even having it be correct? That was unlike him, wasn't it? Well, no, it wasn't. But knowing him, this wasn't just a split-second decision. He did this after she had left, and deliberately. "Is that a tradition or something? Carving the names of the people who have… gone?"

"Not at all," he answered. He went back to leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

She stared at it. It was such an out of place thing, both for him and in its placement. She wasn't sure why he had done it, since it didn't matter anymore. She was gone; for all he knew, she'd never use that room again. The room would never be used anymore, it would just be saved in the TARDIS and never see the light of day again. So why?

"Mind you," the Doctor said, "it also means rose. Could be, er, symbolic?"

She turned to him and deadpanned. "My name's Rose."

He blinked. He blinked again. Then exhaled, slowly. "...This guy needs lessons. Blimey."

Ignoring the irony of that, Rose put her attention back to the things she was holding. For some reason, she felt like she was missing something. She had already got a lot of stuff, and some things she couldn't bring, either for legal or moral reasons, but something still ate away at her…

"Oh!" she yelped, gently letting all her stuff fall down to the floor. "Hector!"

She went back in her room and saw Hector, in all his glory, sitting on her shelf. He had grown so much over the years. From barely a few leaves to almost a bush. "Who's a good boy!" she cried. She picked him up and pet him gently. "Yes, you are."

The Doctor stood in the doorway, looking at what she was talking to. He seemed a bit stunned. When Rose looked at him, he said, "You scared me, I thought you had a cat or something in there."

"Why does that scare you?" she asked, huddling Hector.

"Because the poor thing would've stayed here, alone, for who knows how long," he explained.

"Don't the rooms disappear from time if there's no one inside?"

"That's the thing, cats are registered as someone."

"Ah," she commented. "Good thing it's a plant, then." She held Hector up proudly. He looked so green.

"Yep," he said, leaning back out of the room.

A bit too green, in fact.

The Doctor wasn't entirely sure what to do, still. It was a bit of an odd situation, but nothing, realistically, that he wasn't prepared for. If he had done his job properly, then there truly was no way back for this girl. And there was nothing he could do. He had seen a photo, one that fell out when she had thrown everything on the ground, of her, him, and another cheesy looking guy. They looked very happy, which he supposed was kinda the point. He simply pushed it back in the album. But that was the entire problem: they had a one sided history. It wasn't his future, it would simply never happen for him. He just happened to be exactly the same guy. At least, theoretically. Since it was a parallel universe, it was possible that there was a huge change. Maybe the War never happened, or it ended a different way—just, something.

He could never replace him, and they both knew that. Not that he wanted to, in the first place. She seemed, quite unlike the plant she was holding, quite high maintenance. Then again, it was an unfair assumption to make. She mustn't be at her best, and neither was he, so really, he couldn't say anything about it.

He'd just let all of this play out and forget about it all. It'd be best for both of them. As much as he wished he could help, he couldn't do anything for this girl.

Except this.

She walked out of the room again, but she didn't reach for the other things. She stayed there, staring at her finger, which was covered in a bit of mud. In her other hand she held Hector loosely. And for some reason, she looked very deeply in thought. He wasn't sure why, considering dirt is exactly what you'd expect from a plant. "Are you OK?"

"The soil's wet," she answered.

"...Yeah?"

"I hadn't watered this thing in weeks."

"Maybe the TARDIS went back a few weeks?"

"No, there's tons of dust everywhere. Hold on, don't look," she said, placing Hector down gently and picking up the photo album.

"Doesn't matter, not my future," he noted as he went to stand next to her. She flicked through it. Although most of the photos looked like they were placed in an orderly fashion, there were a myriad of places that looked like they should have something, but didn't.

She confirmed his suspicion, "Some of the photos are missing." She went to the last page. "But the last photo is a few days before the… accident."

"Someone took them," he concluded.

"The rooms stop existing when no one is inside. Considering all the dust, he didn't just go in once. He's been taking care of Hector." She closed the photo album and looked up at him joyfully. "They're connected. The TARDISes, they're connected. Directly."

For once, it was the Doctor who had a hard time following. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm in the same TARDIS that he is, right now!" she cheered. "If I can get the TARDIS to change the hallways, not just in space, but in time…" She closed the door and pleaded to the ceiling. "Please, give me this."