And here is the prologue to my chapter story! AU set after Hand of Fear. This takes place immediately following my short drabbles, Alone and Moving On. Reviews are coveted and encourage me to write faster! ;) Oh, and no beta so all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I'm a college student, can't afford Doctor Who. But if someone wants to give it to me I'd gladly accept!

Time is such a strange thing. So much more complex than most of the galaxy could possibly ever hope to understand. It's not linear but not planar either. It casts off every description as being too confining, laughs at every definition given it by those who can never comprehend—and many of those who do. It can be changed, altered. Every moment can be relived, endlessly repeated. Time can fall back on itself, collapse in a beautiful display at the heart of everything. It can be a fickle and demanding enemy or a tender and constant companion. So many events are tied to one specific moment in it. By altering one second, a cataclysmic event can be averted or all of reality could cease to exist. One simple, solitary event can completely change the course of Time. It teaches those that care to listen that, just because something can be done, doesn't mean it should. And none know this better than the Time Lords of Gallifrey.

DW

The Doctor stood perfectly still, one foot out of the TARDIS, the other still within his ship, leaning forward ever so slightly. Indecision was not something he was used to. But his thoughts kept turning back to Sarah Jane. How could he have left her with just the flimsy excuse that humans were not allowed on Gallifrey? He had broken so many other rules, purely for fun, surely he could break this one for her? Her, that's what it all came back to. She was so much more than just a companion. Perhaps even more than his best friend. Or rather, she could've become more than his best friend if he hadn't run away from her. And that was what he was scared of—terrified of. A Time Lord, scared of his feelings for an earth girl. It sounded like such a foolish thing to be scared of with all the terrors he faced down on a regular basis.

The TARDIS hummed behind him, asking why, if it was such a foolish thing to be scared of, he didn't go back to her. And in absolute truth, he didn't have an answer to that, at least not one that she would accept. His eyes scanned the hallway he'd landed in, just outside of the council chambers. By now they were sure to know of his presence and be waiting rather impatiently for him to come in. That was the final reason he needed not to.

The Doctor grinned and took a step backwards, closing the TARDIS doors. He rushed for the console and set the coordinates in a flurry of movement. South Croydon, never had a destination had a more attractive name than that. In just a few minutes, he would have Sarah Jane back aboard the TARDIS and everything would be the way it was supposed to be.

After the TARDIS had fully materialized, but only just, the Doctor was walking—well, it was an admittedly fast walk, probably closer to jogging—across the street to the familiar building. His feet quickly carried him up the steps and to Sarah Jane's door. Before he knocked, he took a moment to compose his features into the slightly manic and childish but perfectly controlled expression this body had adopted early on. The carefully crafted expression nearly disappeared when she opened the door. He swallowed anxiously and asked her if she was ready to go, his voice sounding unusually high even to his own ears.

"Go where?" she curiously questioned.

"Everywhere," he answered, more than a little put out by her distant reaction to his appearance at her door.

"But I don't even know you, aren't you being a little forward?" her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Come now, Sarah, don't you think that's childish, even for you?" he admonished, mentally panicking.

"Don't call me Sarah; it's Sarah Jane. And how did you know at least half of my name anyway?" If she was suspicious before, she was about ready to call for help now.

"Sarah," he put extra emphasis on her name, remembering how she'd told everyone else not to call her Sarah but had long since stopped correcting him, "stop this juvenile game and come to the TARDIS with me. Do you want an apology? Is that what you're after? Very well, I'm sorry I left you behind; now I'll accept your apology for threatening to leave."

"The TARDIS? Oh, you seem to have gotten dates mixed up again. I haven't met this you yet," the tension instantly leaked from her frame and she opened the door a bit wider.

"The wrong date? Don't be absurd, Sarah. What year is it?"

"1976," she answered with a smug grin.

"There, you see? I regenerated into this body in 1974, and you were there when it happened," he turned his own smug grin on her.

"That's a strange time for us to go to," she quietly mused. "Nothing important happened that year."

"This is ridiculous, come with me to the TARDIS now or I'll leave you here again." It was a hollow threat and the Doctor knew that, he only hoped that Sarah didn't.

"Alright," she acquiesced with a patronizing sigh. "But you have to get me back here in two hours, that's when the other you will be back to pick me up from wherever it was that he—err, you—went."

"Right," he was beginning to have serious doubts as to Sarah's mental health.

"So where is she?"

The Doctor looked over at Sarah in confusion. She was standing by the widow staring out at the street, her eyes sweeping over the view.

"Don't tell me she's the mailbox again. That was embarrassing enough the first time."

"What?"

"The TARDIS, what's she disguised as this time?" she explained impatiently.

"The police call booth, same as she always is," he answered incredulously.

"Is the chameleon circuit broken again?" her voice held both sympathy and amusement.

"It's been broken since long before we met." He wasn't just having doubts anymore, now he was downright worried.

"What are you talking about? It's always worked perfectly, Father. Well, there were those few times, but overall it's worked like a peach for as long as I've known you."

"Father?" he spluttered out once he'd regained use of his mouth.

"Yes, that is the only name you've ever given me. Are you alright?"

"No, no I don't think I am, Sarah Jane. I don't think I am at all."