Note: this crossover Doctor Who/ the Romanov family fanfic takes place after the episode Father's Day.

14 November 1878, Wolfsgarten Manor, Darmstadt, German Empire.

The first time Alix met the Doctor, she was dying. She was choking. Her fever was high, she shook, and the diphtheria had made its way into her throat, where it began to strangle her. She desperately willed herself to scream, but she was too weak. The enormous velvet carpet of fever smothered any sound she could've made. She couldn't even make it to her knees, to pray. Instead she prayed silently, lying down, please God let me go to heaven, please, please, please. She sounded as if she was begging Mummy for more dessert. With great effort, she touched the cold cloth someone had placed on her head, and was surprised to feel heat instead of coolness. That movement was too much. She collapsed into her pillow, let her deep grey eyes shut. She was going to die. Even at six years old, she somehow knew it, and she passed off the wheezing sounds coming from the corner as her own breath. The gentle touch of fingers on her face and hair were surely Death's.

Suddenly, a black-clothed, lanky figure stood n her doorway. Alix was sure he was the Angel of Death, and her awareness grew stronger as he came to her bed, stroked her strawberry-blonde hair, and whispered comfortingly to her in English. Not German like the family doctor or the nurses would have used.

The Angel of Death reached into his dark pocket and pulled out a small bottle. He twisted it open and shook out some pills.

"Take one," he said, his voice warped and muffled. "You'll feel better." Not knowing what else to do, Alix agreed. She used all of her strength again to reach for her glass of water, and fought excruciating pain to swallow the pill. Immediately, the fever started to fade and Alix could see clearly again. She took a great, rattling breath and felt the oxygen warm her whole body. The pill had worked. She turned to the man, who wasn't death after all. "Thanks, Mr. Angel." She whispered, and then she slept.

20 June 2006, the East End, London, the United Kingdom.

Rose was still getting over the loss of her dad, all over again (and less so, the perms and shoulder pads, which only looked good on you if you were some sort of seven-foot-tall alien), when she and the Doctor returned to the TARDIS. She wasn't stupid – she understood that he had to die or else time would be destroyed. She understood that none of this would've happened if she hadn't tried to save him that day. Rose cast her eyes down. For some reason she didn't want the Doctor to see her cry about this. Of course, he probably noticed, but for once he didn't say anything.

"Where do you want to go next," he asked after a while. Rose blew her nose on her sleeve and replied, "I don't know. Maybe the flapper era? I reckon it'd be fun to dance around and drink and all that." She tried desperately to sound happy.

The Doctor gave her a grin. "Fantastic! 1920s it is!" Rose knew he was being cheerful for her sake, so she gave a weak smile in return, and watched as he began to rush around the control panel, flipping levers and pushing buttons, sometimes giving her directions. "Quick! Hold that one down."

"Which one?"

"The green one! No, no, no, not that green one the one with squiggles!"

Soon the time rotor began to move up and down, and they were jerked back and forth. After a few moments of feeling like clothes in a washing machine, the TARDIS stilled and the Doctor jumped up.

"All right, Rose, here we are! 1923! The roaring twenties, all yours!" He made a dramatic gesture towards the door, and Rose couldn't help giggling. Instead of walking down the ramp, she ran down the hall, turned to the left, second right, went through the third door on her left, ran straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, and finally entered through the fifth door on her left. Rose grinned, stroking the wall, as she looked at the enormous TARDIS wardrobe. "All right old girl, it's the 1920s, what should I wear?" The lights flashed over a section to her right. Giving the TARDIS a quick thank-you, she rushed over and started to get dressed.

-LINE BREAK!-

The Doctor tapped his foot on the floor impatiently. Rose had been gone for an entire ten minutes! "Women and their clothes." He muttered. Why didn't Rose wear something universally acceptable, like he did? His jumper was perfectly fine for whatever situation they came across! He heard footsteps, and turned around. His jaw dropped. Rose was wearing a loose, beaded silk dress with a low waist. She was wearing rayon stockings, and she'd styled her hair into a chignon. She noticed the Doctor's reaction and smirked, turning in a circle.

"Not bad, eh?" She gave him a cheeky grin. The Doctor snapped out of it and cleared his throat. "Well, considering you're human." Rose rolled her eyes, and then ran to the doors. She put her hands on them, savoring the moment before she would step into a new time. Then she pushed them open and looked around excitedly.

-LINE BREAK!-

"Um…Doctor? I'm pretty sure this isn't a speakeasy." The Doctor winced inside his ship. He must have gotten the flight wrong, again. He headed towards the door, and poked his head outside. Looking around, he saw that that they had landed in a spacious, simple nursery, with whitewashed walls and three large wooden beds arranged in the corners. Rose was kneeling next to one of the beds, murmuring quietly. He walked up to her, about to apologize, when he noticed who was in the bed-a little girl, pale and sweaty, with a cloth over her forehead. The Doctor gaped at her, the whipped out his sonic screwdriver to scan her.

"What's wrong with her, Doctor?" Rose asked quietly. She watched as the Doctor read the results of his scan, his brow furrowing. "She's got diphtheria…" He muttered, then turned to the girl. "Can you tell us your name, sweetheart?" The girl stirred a little, then looked at him. "A-Al-Alix," she whispered, then began to cough violently. The Doctor sat straight up, then ran to the window and looked outside. He was greeted with the dark, forested landscape of southwestern Germany. Looking down, he could tell that they were inside of a large, rather gloomy-looking building - most likely some sort of manor. He turned around slowly, and walked back over to Alix. Rose was stroking Alix's hair, saying that she was going to be okay. The Doctor walked over to them.

"Doctor, have you got a cure? Can you help her?" The Doctor frowned. "I do have a cure, but I've heard of this…we might have to leave and let her recover."

Rose sat straight up and glared at him. "Listen to me, Doctor. This girl is sick, an' she's in pain, and she says she's going to die. I don't care if we have to fly to some moon at the end of the universe in order to help her, but we are going to find her a cure!" Rose was shouting by the end of her speech, and the Doctor sighed.

"Rose…this isn't any little girl. This is her royal highness Princess Victoria Alix Helena Louise Beatrice of Hesse and by Rhine. She nearly died from diphtheria when she was a child. But she recovered. If we cure her, it might create a wound in time. You know what that means." Rose shuddered. Reapers.

"But…how long 'till she recovers? Would it change that much if we cured her early?" The Doctor thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "Actually, Rose, she began recovering around…now. It was a miracle, because everybody thought she would die. Her sister…" The Doctor looked at Alix, then lowered his voice. "Her sister and mother don't make it. But Alix does, and nobody knows why!" The Doctor grinned at Rose for a moment, and then Rose understood.

"So…we're the reason she made that recovery? The reason that she survives?" The Doctor nodded. "And it won't damage time because she always survived! We can save her and it'll look like she fought the disease off herself!" he said and then rubbed his hands together. "I have the cure on the TARDIS, just give me a tick!" And he ran into his ship.

Rose continued to sit with Alix, holding her hand. "So, can you tell me about yourself?" She asked. Alix tried to reply, but instead coughed. "Shhh, never mind, it's alright honey." Rose soothed her. But is it? She thought. Her mum and sister will die, and even though she'll survive, her childhood will be ruined…maybe her entire life…maybe we could save her family too… Rose shook herself. No. That would be too big a change; they'd end up dying anyway from the reapers. We'll just cure her and hope that that's enough.

-LINE BREAK!-

The Doctor ran out of the TARDIS, pill bottle in hand. It had taken him a while to find the cure, because it was in the back in the infirmary. He slowed down and knelt next to Alix's bed. "Take one," he said. "It'll help you feel better." Alix slowly reached out and took one, then swallowed it painfully. He could see her eyes clearing from the haze of fever almost instantly, and she began to sit up.

"Thanks, Mr. Angel," she told the Doctor, who found it amusing and didn't correct her, and then went back to sleep, breathing normally. The Doctor and Rose tiptoed back into the TARDIS as not to disturb her. Once inside, they sat down on the jump seat and smiled. They knew that they had saved the little girl; they knew that she would grow stronger; but what they did not know was that they would most definitely see her again.