I just finished season 2 of DW and decided to write this fic as a little tribute to Rose and the Doctor. It will probably turn into a Doctor/Rose at some point but then again it might not. I still haven't decided how I feel about them as a couple. Oh well, in the meantime enjoy the story!

Prologue: An Unexpected Companion

Be strong, be clever, be resourceful. And above all, remember to always look forward but consider the path you left behind.

Those are the words I live by. The last words my mother ever said to me. The last memory I have of the world I came from. With those words, my journey began.

1942, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland

The handshake was firm, unforgivable. "Many thanks, Herr." He nodded at the speaking officer and pulled his hand free with a small wince.

"My pleasure, Officer. Just use it sparingly, it's very strong."

The SS officer nodded and raised his right arm in response. "Hiel Hitler!" he cried.

With a polite nod of his head and a smile indicating he had no intention of "hieling" anyone, he turned and walked away leaving the man to his slow death by guilt and alcohol abuse.

Snow blew harshly past as he stalked through the courtyard and he buried his neck into his thin collar to avoid the flakes. He saved his hands from facing the cold by shoving them deep into his large pockets. His feet however, were not as lucky. The white stuff had piled up a good four inches or so, making him have to stop momentarily to scoop it out of the rims of his boots. His fingers numbed as he fumbled to keep the wet from falling onto his feet. Good Lords, how did this stuff get everywhere?

Snow mostly gone, he straightened and flicked his fingers to get the icy water off of them. Horrible stuff. He was immensely grateful that he would soon be able to leave this all behind. This and all these life-forms doomed to die.

As he resumed walking, the side of his neck began to itch. But it wasn't a normal itch. This one was lighter, less obvious. It danced across his skin like someone blowing on his neck. He stopped cold as the snow around him. He knew what this meant. He was being watched…

He turned slowly, his fingers delicately brushing the plasma blaster hidden beneath his coat, strapped to his hip. The yard was empty, except for a young woman standing in the far corner. She was so far away, he couldn't tell the expression on her face. Not that it mattered. He already knew everything he needed to know about her. She was not very old, she was not a threat and she would not live very much longer. Her time was almost up. In a matter of minutes she would be dead. It was a dramatic death too… all fire and light and the pain of release… He shook his head and her future faded in his mind. She mattered little. And he had made sure her last moments would be that much more quick and painless…

He kept walking until he reached the railroad tracks on the far edge of the courtyard. A train was coming in, filling the air with smoke and the desperate lack of futures that flowed from the cattle cars. He cringed at the onslaught and burrowed deeper into his collar, trying to block it all out. To stop knowing the pain and anguish that came from and would come from this place. All the futures suffocating. Starving. Despairing. Dying. He shivered. It was high time he left this pit of despair.

The man stepped up to an archway off the side of the tracks that in faded letters declared: Train this Way. No one was near it. In fact, many did not even seem to realize it was there. They bustled right past it, probably assuming it was the old station that had been disused due to age and lack of proper maintenance. Digging his hand in his pocket he pulled out a long, thin piece of metal that glowed red on one end. He quickly traced the red light around the archway then stepped through it. Once he crossed the threshold, the stone and bleak surroundings melted away to reveal the interior of his TARDIS.

He took a deep breath as all the time-lines of the place outside faded away. His head was somewhat clear again. Shrugging off his damp coat, he threw it over the railing and set to work. He walked slowly around the circular dashboard and core in the center of the main room, pulling a lever here, adjusting a dial there.

"Wake up my sweet, time to go…" He crooned softly to the mechanisms. As he worked, the engine below slowly came to life. The deck under his feet began to vibrate, the long thin core in the center of the console became soft red in color as the pistons began to move.

A chorus of screams sounded from outside but he kept pulling levers, pushing buttons, preparing for flight.

He'd done what he'd come to do, the rest was up to this planet's inhabitants. With a final press of a white button, the machine began to move in full. With a smooth humming and clanking of gears and a tell-tale whine, the machine sprang into flight.

He set his coordinates and leaned back in the pilot's seat. He had about an hour to kill before he reached 823 years in the past on Gallifrey. Might as well make the most of it. He kicked his damp boots up onto the dashboard as the TARDIS rocked soothingly back and forth. He'd just rest… rest and mull over his own future… his own problems… his own…

On the other side of the core, something moved. In less time than it took to blink, he was on his feet, his blaster primed and ready, aimed at the threat. He moved soundlessly around the console behind the muzzle of his weapon. What could have possibly gotten inside his machine? Hadn't he locked it? Was it a lone dalek? Was he under attack?

But it wasn't a dalek. Crouched behind the TARDIS's railing, half hidden in the shadow of a column was a human child.

His resolve faltered. "How in the..?" Wary but now curious, he crept towards the thing. It scuttled back until it was hidden entirely by the shadows, one of its hands closed around something in a fist. As it moved he suddenly realized it was female.

He slowly stepped closer, trying not to startle the thing. She couldn't have been older than seven. She was small and scrawny with a scrappy collection of fair hair that was shaved to a thin stubble on her head. Her only clothing was in tatters and soggy with snowmelt. And the human was dirty, so dirty. Her hands were red and chapped with cold and her face was smudged with coal dust or dirt. He could see tearstains cutting through the mess on her cheeks. But she was not crying now. Now she stared at him fearlessly from the shadows, her eyes hard and her nose dripping. He carefully replaced his blaster in its holster, he had a feeling he wouldn't need it even if she did attack.

"How did you get in here?" He asked. She did not reply. Her fist tightened around the thing in her hand. Her eyes unblinkingly followed his every move.

He crouched next to her so they were at the same level. She shied back slightly but stared hardly at him, wary but unafraid.

He was intrigued. "I promise I won't hurt you." He said. "Who are you?"

The girl appeared to consider the question. She drew a deep breath, her tiny chest rising noticeably with the effort. "Ksenia." She finally whispered. "M'name's Ksenia. Who're you?"

The Time Lord scratched his chin as he considered the question. How to handle this?

He couldn't take her back to her own time. That would cross his own time-stream a little too closely for comfort. Besides they were already in flight. He couldn't change the pattern now. Like it or not, she was going to Gallifrey. But to keep her with him..?

He sat back on his heels and considered the girl. A mere scrap, hardly worth a second look. A prisoner, destined to die and yet… here she was. Somehow still alive and inside his TARDIS. She watched him with wide, wary eyes as he examined her life.

She wouldn't live long: half a century if he dropped her somewhere else on Earth, half an hour if he took her back to her own time, no time at all if he let her set foot on Gallifrey. He looked away to break the vision. He could see it all: her timeline was short, muddled, her past had been bleak and uneventful, her future was all consumed by an endless, futile task that would eventually kill her…

She shifted slightly and he looked at her again. But her eyes… her eyes were so captivating... At first glance they were nothing special: a light gray, almost ugly in color if it hadn't been so delicate. They were almost transparent, like looking at water. But under that... He blinked in confusion and peered harder.

No...

Deep in her eyes, hiding behind the clear facade that shouldn't have been able to hide anything... under that there was another time-stream. He leaned in and looked even closer. She blinked once but didn't break his gaze. Their faces were barely an inch apart.

He searched the orbs before him. Yes, there was something there. Something deep inside that glowed like the fires of Gallifrey. If set on the right path…. she showed promise. As the thought crossed his mind, her future changed. The short, muddy path became a staircase of gold. He drew a sharp intake of breath. She may be human but her future…. It could stretch endlessly before him, disappearing into the mists of time.

As her stream twisted away into oblivion before him, he was struck by a sudden idea. She could be useful.

He sat back on his heels and smirked. "I'm the Architect, Ksenia. And I think I could use someone like you." He held out his hand to her. "Come now. I've got something to show you…"

I just want to say here that reviews are greatly appreciated.