A/N - A oneshot I wrote for the prompt "animorphs/doctor who, rachel, the doctor saves rachel" on the LJ Rewriting History Meme. Mid-#54. Spoilers.

Edit: I've begun to extend this into a longer story, which can be found on my profile under the title "I'm Not II". Not particularly creative, but I'm hoping something will come to me.

The floor is cold against Rachel's back and legs. Her feet are bare. She must be in her morphing outfit. She frowns. Why is she here? Where are the others?

Then she remembers: she's dead. All that, all those years of war and slugs and nightmares, and she's dead. She hopes they won, the others. She hopes they finally beat the Yeerks. It would be worth dying, just for that.

But then, if she's dead, where is she? And why is everything so dark?

Oh. Her eyes are closed. Right.

She spends several seconds trying to remember how to open them. When she does, she's greeted by the sight of a man - a stranger, not someone she knows - leaning over her. He's tall, with spiked brown hair, a long nose, and a pinstriped suit accompanied by long brown overcoat that shouldn't go together but somehow do. He sees her eyes open and grins, a wide grin that's hard to forget.

"Oh, hello," he says, his British accent strange against her ears. "I'm the Doctor."

"The Doctor," she repeats, sitting up carefully. She glances around quickly. It's no place she's ever seen before, not Yeerk, not Andalite, but definitely not human either.

"Yeah, that's me."

"What kind of name is that?"

"It's my name," he says, sounding a little hurt. "And I think it's a very good name."

"Are you an alien?" The words spring unbidden to her lips and she immediately wishes she can take them back. The Yeerks already know the identities of the so-called Andalite bandits, but secrecy is a hard habit to break.

The Doctor laughs. "Oh, you're good. You're very good."

"So you are." It isn't a question.

He stops laughing. "Yes."

"I'm not."

"I know. What's your name?"

She hesitates. She doesn't think this man is a Controller, but even so . . . Well, her first name couldn't hurt. Of course it could, but she wasn't going to think about that. "Rachel."

"Hm." He studies her for a moment. "Well, Rachel, welcome to the TARDIS."