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Unbeta'd so any and all grammar/spelling mistakes are mine alone.

They hadn't even left the shores of the frigid beach when the half human Doctor collapsed with an agonized scream, his head clutched in his hands.

"Neural Implosion" he had insisted through clenched jaws, not wanting her to worry even while she and her mum carried him to a fishing shelter.

"Aneurysm" she figured out on her own only a few short hours after his pain ridden breaths had finally ground to a halt, his ears, nose, and eyes wet with scarlet trails she had wiped away so many times.

Both Doctors had made a grievous mistake. The metacrisis didn't have enough of the original Doctor's genetics to contain his Timelord mind so he had burned from the inside out.

But still, he had bequeathed unto her two gifts even as he laid dying in her arms. The first was his many centuries of knowledge, passed from his mind to hers in the form of swirling memories that made her head swim. The second, and equally important, gift was his blessing, no, insistence that she did what was necessary in order to find a way back to the lonely god who had sacrificed his own happiness for theirs.

And so she tried so hard to get back to the only thing in any universe that meant home to her anymore, watching her family grow older and more distant as time passed. Each vain attempt added yet another fracture to her already battered heart.

And then, while investigating a rumored haunted house as a favor to her colleagues at Torchwood, she happened upon something that defied any reality she had ever traveled to in all her long years.

There was a crack in the wall of one of the bedrooms and it glowed with an eerie light. Her scans told her that it didn't exist, yet her eyes refused to accept it. With a deep breath of anticipation, she proceeded to do what her blue eyed, crass and grumpy Doctor warned her not to do long ago.

"To hell with it," she muttered to herself and shoved her sonic screwdriver into the gaping hole.

Her body slams into a hard surface, knocking the wind out of her lungs as she collapses into an undignified heap.

"You're not the raggedy man," a quiet voice accuses and she can hear the speaker move closer, "He told me he would be back in five minutes."

The woman fights down the urge to sick up while she raises herself to her hands and knees, then looks up to see a ginger haired, freckled girl staring down at her, "Sorry, I seem to have gotten a bit lost. Do you live here?"

"Of course I do," the child waves a hand around the decidedly not abandoned space that is cluttered with toys, drawings, and clothing, "You're in my room."

She picks up her sonic and leans back on her heels to scan the area, "Not temporal displacement. Time bubble maybe? No, too hard to sustain without a major power source nearby. Weeping angels? No. Even their offspring aren't as small as any of these dolls." She lowers her instrument and casts her attention back to the girl, "Sweetheart, I don't mean to sound daft, but could you tell me the exact date today is?"

"April 13th, 1996," the girl confidently announces before heaving out an impatient breath, "Stupid Doctor and his stupider blue box. Can't tell the difference between five minutes and a month."

At the word "Doctor" the woman's head snaps up from her sonic, "You're waiting for the Doctor to come back with his ship?"

The girls nods vigorously, "He said he had to do something with his police box ship, then he was going to come back for me so I could go on a trip with him. Do you know the Doctor too?"

"Quirky, hyperactive, gob that won't quit? Boy do I know him," she confesses, finally getting to her feet and wiping her scraped hands on her trouser legs, "Did he happen to say what was wrong with his police box?"

"Well, it crashed in the garden, then he climbed out and was all wet, said he fell into the pool that was in the library. And he wanted apples. Then he spit them out and asked for yogurt, but he didn't like that either-" She drifts off for a moment before gasping, "His clothes were all ripped like he'd been fightin' and they didn't fit right and he kept coughin' out this gold glitter. Told me he was still cookin', whatever that was supposed to mean. Then he walked into a tree...that was before he wanted fish fingers and custard though-"

"The Tardis crashed in your garden?" she couldn't keep her voice from quaking, "And you said he was coughin' up gold glitter? Blimey, he's regenertated. Oh Doctor, how am I supposed to find you now?"

"What are you talkin' about? Ma'am?"

"It means the Doctor has been very sick recently and, if his police box crash landed in your garden, it means he is trying to fix her while he's gettin' better. That's why he hasn't come back for you yet," she surmises aloud, as much for her own benefit as the child's. A moment later she realizes she's forgotten something, "What's your name sweetheart?"

"Amelia Pond, but Mels and Rory call me Amy," Amelia tells her, then jumps when a thump suddenly echoes through the old house, "My aunt Sharon! You have to hide!"

Thinking quickly, she dashes over to the back window and pushes it open, "I'll start looking for the Doctor Amy. Stay away from that crack in your wall until I find him. Promise me."

"I promise," the girl vows as she watches the woman slip out, then races to stick her head out as well, "Wait! What's your name? In case the Doctor comes back while your gone, I can tell him you're lookin' for him."

"Rose," the lie she's prepared is bittersweet as it leaves her mouth, but she can't have two Rose Tyler's mucking about this timeline, ever, "My name is Rose Smith. Now get in bed, and I will be back as soon as I think it's safe."

"Yes ma'am," Amy whispers and Rose hears the window click shut just as her boots touch the spongy ground.

A minute later, as she heaves herself over the the stone wall and begins legging it away from the house, she curses herself for not asking young Amelia where she'd come out at. This causes her to detour closer to town until she finds a call box with its phone directory still intact.

"Bugger me, I'm in Leadworth?!"