A/N: Disclaimer: I actually have full rights... you know why? BECAUSE I AM RUSSELL T DAVIES! ... Okay... So I'm not. I'm a little (well actually, a LOT) shorter, thirty years younger, and my brain isn't as awesome as his. Right, so I'm not Russell T Davies. And thinking about it, does HE actually own the rights to Doctor Who? He's just employed by the BBC! So Doctor Who must belong to the BBC. But what about Sydney Newman? Verity Lambert? Robert Holmes? But they're all deceased, aren't they? Isn't it something like all the creatures made by their original creators have to have their rights bought by the BBC from some company? Isn't that a bit stupid? Everything's far too contracted nowadays. Maybe the Doctor owns his own show... Wow, that'd be messed up... Talk about ego... (walks off talking to self)
And whilst I'm on the subject, Mr Davies, you are an evil, sick, twisted man. But a genius :D
Another "posting-now-in-the-knowledge-that-I'll-have-to-post-some-more-soon" type fic. Blame Pkarma42 for this one. Lynch her. Go on.
UPDATE 14/02/2015: Have now fixed all the Gallifreyan to conform to my Dictionary!
Chapter 1 - Krunchy Kittens
"Rose, my dog has no nose!"
Rose grinned. "Oh poor thing, how does he smell?"
"Terrible!" the Doctor delivered the punch line with a large, loony grin, before yanking down hard on one of the levers of the TARDIS and throwing his arms in the air with enthusiasm. "Planet Barcelona!" he bellowed. "Where the dogs have no noses, where the beaches are perfect, where the local food doesn't make you throw up!" He paused, thinking about this. "Or… at least, I hope it won't make you throw up. Humans!" he stated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Silly humans, throwing up at the smallest things…"
"It was a kitten's heart, Doctor!" Rose squeaked.
"A delicacy in certain parts of the galaxy!" the Doctor insisted.
"Doctor, I do not eat kittens!"
He rolled his eyes. "Humans!" he stated again, flicking a switch on the console. "Never open to diversity! No wonder you're so far down the evolutionary tree…"
Luckily for the Doctor the TARDIS landed sloppily, throwing both of her occupants to the floor so Rose was unable to reach him to throttle him. Before Rose could pull herself back together and make any move towards him, the Doctor grabbed his coat from the support strut and pulled it on, disappearing out the door.
And stopped dead.
Rose almost walked into him. "Doctor, what…" she trailed off as she looked at their surroundings, realising what was wrong. "London!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. "As much as I love London, Doctor, there are a billion more places in the Universe y'know!"
"Rose…" the Doctor said gently, stepping forward a few paces and spinning around, taking in the view. "Something's wrong."
Rose took a few hesitant steps forward, taking in the view as he had. He was right. Something was wrong. The high street they were standing on was absolutely deserted of life – a Saturday night in London town that should've been alive with people shopping and partying – leaving nothing but the sound of the wind whistling through the street.
"What happened?" she wondered aloud, knowing full well she wouldn't get an answer. She let her eyes scan to the end of the street - there was a burnt-out car sat on the corner; a blackened heap of metal teetering on the edge of a massive crater…
"Bomb," she whispered, and suddenly the chill of the night air hit her. She pulled the sleeves of her hoody over her hands, folding her arms to block out the cold as she tried to figure out things in her head. Bombs… burnt out cars… Had they landed in the middle of the Blitz?
She was about to voice this idea to the Doctor, when she realised he'd disappeared from her side. She cast a glance around the deserted street to find him looking in the window of an abandoned shop, nose to the glass.
"It's been deserted…" he muttered as Rose came up behind him, staring in the pane of glass with him. It was dark within, but the moonlight showed them all they needed to know. HD widescreen TVs were still sat on the shelves, as were the latest digital cameras and computers abandoned to the dust. That negated her Blitz idea, then. This technology was way too advanced for the 1940's. "Someone left in a hurry," the Doctor continued, "and by the looks of it, quite a long time ago. But why?"
Rose shrugged. "Tourist information board would be helpful right now…" she joked half-heartedly. The Doctor gave a fleeting smile before his brow furrowed once more, his magnificent brain scanning through every possibility, and the likelihood of each. He backed away from the window out into the street, his eyes continuously searching the shops of the empty street for any more clues, deep in thought. So much so in fact, that he completely missed the van speeding towards him…
The sound of the engine screaming down the road hadn't really registered in Rose's mind as being out of place, so much so that the loud thud and the screech of brakes was the thing that made her spin around, her eyes focusing on the crumpled body wearing a trench coat lying in front of the bumper of a black van…
"DOCTOR!" Rose screamed in a blur of panic, rushing over to the unmoving Time Lord lying in front of the van and turning him over, fingers resting on his pulse point. He was still going strong. Her eyes moved up, finding his eyes closed with blood forming on a place near his hairline. It was apparent the impact had thrown him onto the road, causing him to smack his head hard onto the concrete… but… Was he concussed? Had he broken anything? She needed to get him back to the TARDIS…
The sound of a van door opening rang in her ears, and she looked over her shoulder to find a tall man, fully clad in black armour and a helmet with a tinted visor staring down at her with a gun in his hand.
"What are you doing out past curfew?!" the figure demanded in a rough, deep voice, bringing up the lethal weapon to point at her heart.
Rose stared at him in the shock of the moment. "C… Curfew?" she stuttered, confused. Cover yourself, girl! Think of an excuse! "Umm, we were…" Now! Quick! Do it! "We were… Havin' a baby!" she spluttered out, and then realised what she'd said. "… That wasn't very convincin', was it?" she let go a laugh, trying to make them see her as a person…
The man stared at her, hard. She heard another presence step up on her right, and she swivelled her head to look up at a second figure dressed in the same attire as the other, also pointing a gun at her chest.
"You will come with us," the man who had first spoken to her ordered, grabbing her arm and wrenching her roughly from the unconscious Doctor onto her feet. He restrained her with one arm easily, the other arm holding his gun to her temple as an incentive to stay still. She watched in horror as the other man easily scooped up the unconscious Doctor and threw him over his shoulder with ease, marching around to the back of the van.
"No! Where're you takin' him?" she struggled to pull free of the strong grip as the Doctor disappeared, only to find she was being dragged in the same direction. At that precise moment she had no idea whether that was good or bad… "What're you doin'?!" she yelled, desperate. "Let go!"
The man dragging her didn't answer, merely following his accomplice holding the Doctor as he flung open the back door of the van to reveal a dozen or so battered looking people, men, woman and children all crammed inside like sardines in a tin, chained by the wrists and ankles with a look of utter fear on their faces.
"Let go!" Rose gasped, struggling to get free. "Look, just chill, yeah? We didn't mean to, we…" She felt the cold barrel of the gun press hard into her temple, and she promptly shut her mouth.
The man holding the Doctor slammed him down onto the van floor with no consideration for any injuries he may have had, fixing chains around his wrists and ankles before turning to the man holding Rose, gesturing to push her to him. She couldn't let this just happen… She had to do something… She began struggling again as she was exchanged between the two…
"Let them go!" a voice suddenly yelled from behind her and she felt the grip on her slacken, making her stumble and fall heavily to the ground. Suddenly a barrage of gunfire came from above her and she screamed in alarm, instinct telling her to get up and run but forcing herself to stay on the ground, arms covering her head for protection.
"Get up!" a voice commanded her, grabbing her arm and yanking her onto her feet. "You're in the line of fire!"
She had no choice but to obey the voice, the arm dragging her over to the side of the road out of the gunfire. They took refuge behind a burnt out car, Rose peeking through the gaps to the chaos of a street fight going on in front of her.
More gunfire and the guards of the van began to retreat, one slipping in the front of the vehicle as the other jumped into the backed, grabbing a man and using him as a body shield. There was a cry of alarm from the attacking party before the man who had saved her grabbed her once more, dragging her off back down the road to a place of safety. She instantly erupted into panic, trying desperately to pull herself away from the man's steely grip.
"No! I have to save the Doctor!" she yelled, thrashing around in his grasp. "They took him!"
The man suddenly stopped dead, turning around to face her for the first time. His blond hair was streaked with mud, his face cut up from the effects of battle, his clothes torn and blooded. His forest green eyes locked with her brown ones, his expression serious as his hands came to rest on her shoulders.
"Your friend is dead," he said straight, not even blinking. "And if he's not, he'll soon be wishing he was. I know how you feel, really I do, my sister, my wife and my mum died in the same way. But realise that he died in aid of giving you enough time to escape, remember that. If I was him, saving you from them would've been my last wish. Please don't destroy that. If you go back in, you will be killed, or you will spend the rest of your life in agony. Please, for him… run."
The last word struck her heart like a lightning bolt.
She felt completely numb. She couldn't find the sensation to stop her feet as the man dragged her off again, weaving in and out of bystanders to an unknown destination.
Just like he had always said.
But this time, she was running on her own.