AN: Before I piss people off. I don't hate Rose. I always wondered where the pictures on Clives site came from, since they couldn't come before meeting Rose and in-show Nine is always with Rose. I mean sure, if you want to take the novels into account as canon then there are points where they are seperate, but I am fairly sure that they are not canon. IUNNO. Anyway, don't hate Rose, but, this is the only point Clive's pictures could have happened. So that. This may or may not result in an AU version of S1 and onward. Depends on how invested I become in the story, how much writing time I end up having and how much I actually end up diverting from the canon of the series, which I may indeed end up doing. Thus, without further ado, I welcome you to the Tale Of an Angsty Time Lord.
The Doctor closed the door of his spacecraft with an almost unnoticeable pout on his face. He had been almost certain that Rose would take him up on his offer of universal travel. It wasn't every day that an alien in a big blue box would drop out of nowhere and offer someone and open ticket to the universe, and it wasn't every person that the aforementioned alien would offer the chance to either. But Rose Tyler had ticked all the boxes. Her cool approach to finding out about the TARDIS, her clear need to protect life, and of course the courage she showed when saving him from the Autons under the London Eye. She was the perfect candidate to travel in the TARDIS, and the Doctor couldn't help but grudgingly admit to himself that he was disappointed with her decision to remain on Earth.
It was thus with a defeated sigh that the Doctor dragged his feet over to the main console of his time machine and plugged in a set of random coordinates. He mentally chastised himself. Rose Tyler was just one human, some random girl who worked in a shop and in all honesty probably wasn't worth getting too worked up about. Companions came a dime a dozen from all time periods really. That thought didn't sit well in the Doctor's head, but he didn't give humans second chances when it came to travelling with him. If they said no, that was it. That's what the Doctor tried to convince himself of as he flung down a final lever and sent the TARDIS hurtling through the vortex, away from 21st century London and deep into the unknown.
Sumatra, 1880
She was running. Breath coming hard and heavy in short bursts, her heart beating at an increased rate and her mind running faster than her legs in unbridled fear. She was running, and in all honesty, she didn't even know what she was running from. She had been sent up the mountain to gather herbs for a stew her mother was making, and she like everyone else knew that the best herbs came from a small cave at the base of the mountain. But stepping into the mountain's rocky inside had been different this time. This time she felt… something. A darkness spreading out from the depths, invisible, and clawing at her mind. Sinking its claws painfully into her brain, seeking purchase, seeking entry. Even though she only saw the setting sun, partially blocked out by the looming shadow of the mountain, when she tossed a glance back behind her, she knew it was coming.
That was when she fell. Looking back over her shoulder the teenage girl did not see the way the slope she was running across suddenly dipped. Because of that, she was sent hurtling down the incline, scraping her arms and legs. By the time she came to a rest at the bottom of the hill she had a sprained ankle and several shallow cuts on both her arms and legs. She sat, dazed, unable to move from her position due to her injuries. The birds had stopped chirping from their nests in the trees, the sound of rabbits and other small mammals moving through the grass had fallen to silence, the wind that had once whispered through the leaves of the forest had died down and even the babbling of the nearby river that the local townspeople used as a water source and fishing spot seemed to have become silent. The world watched with bated breath as the unknown darkness crept forward to take its prey.
The world ripped itself apart in a cacophony of indescribable sounds. Wind whipped itself up around the girl as the deep, ethereal thrumming grew louder and more frequent. She covered her head, completely sure that her end had come and the creature had caught up with her and was ready to claim its prize. As suddenly as it had started the winds and sounds ceased. A loud, wooden creak echoed through the once more silent clearing.
"Hello," came a gruff, male voice, "I'm the Doctor."
She let her head raise up slowly, taking in the sight of a short haired man in a leather jacket standing in front of a big blue box, and then she promptly fainted.
The Doctor gathered the girl in his arms, a concerned scowl masking his features. Everywhere he popped up in his TARDIS, death and destruction followed in his wake. That was why the Daleks had dubbed him the Oncoming Storm. A man among nightmares, striding through the stars as if he owned them, bringing demise to all those opposed him and death to the innocents that stood by his side. He banished the thoughts. It wouldn't do well to have the girl he now held die due to his negligence, he was the Doctor, and that meant the patient came first.
He wound his way through the long, winding corridors of his time ship. She was still rebuilding areas of herself and that was where most of the power had gone, leading to the ship's lighting to flicker slightly with each step, as if his once magnificent transport was in threat of breaking down from just the smallest vibration. It probably would have been better to park her in the Vortex somewhere, but he had needed the distraction as much as she had needed the time. The Doctor shot one of the walls of the TARDIS a supportive smile and felt the buzz of appreciation in the back of his mind almost immediately. She would pull through this, his ship always pulled through.
The Medibay was still a mess. The remnants of the war he had yet to wipe out of the physical world, let alone the deep recess' of his mind. Bandages and Medil-Gel packs were strewn haphazardly across the ground, some still stained with the blood of fallen friends and family. A stasis pod with blood smeared across the inside, another testament to the failure he had been during the war, a man without the proper authority to be named 'doctor'.
He set the girl down on the medical table, one of the few places that was at least slightly tidy. A slab of cold, hard material that could only really be likened to marble. She let out a small breath of air as the cold material touched her skin, causing the Doctor's own breath to hitch in his throat as he thought he had done the girl even more harm. Pushing an array of symbols on the side of the bed caused a see through arch to raise up above the girl and back into a slot that had opened on the other side of the table. A few more taps caused a live read out of her body to show up.
The Doctor examined her vitals carefully and, after discovering that her levels seemed to be within acceptable regions, turned his eye to her ankle. It was only a simple sprain and would heal with time, but there was no issue with spreading a small sample of Medi-gel over the afflicted area, the latent Nanogenes would have it fixed in no time. It was tempting to just put her back where he found her and leave after that, she'd just put it down to a dream after waking. Perhaps he'd implant a memory of her walking along after completing whatever task it was she had been doing and had decided that particular spot of grass seemed good for a nap.
It was when the Doctor placed his hands around her temples and stepped into her mind that he realised the scanner had missed something. Something was wrong inside her head, shards of darkness, the blackest black splintered right into the depths of her psyche. He pulled out of the psychic connection with a look of shock on his face, psychic manipulation on that level could never be mastered by a human.