Sorry for not updating, uni is pretty damn hectic! Review?

Another apology! The second half of this chapter is the same as the original prologue! I decided to add the first bit, as it seemed to fit better before we meet up with The Doctor and Aobh, rather than after. So apologies if you've already read it :S

Aobh is pronounced Eve :)

Doctor Who Belongs to the BBC

Prologue - Dead Days

The alarm rang out in an agitating scream of noise. He slammed it off without looking, and rolled over with a groan, burying his face into the pillow for a few extra minutes of comfort. But he knew he couldn't stay there, and after working up the courage to leave his warm cocoon of covers, he hopped out, stumbling to the shower over the cold wood floor. He stubbed his toe on the bed post on the way past, and by the time he reached the bathroom he was still swearing under his breath. But the hot shower brought a blissful heat back into him, and he stood for a good long while under the spray and steam, too long in fact. The rest if his morning routine was cut short, his suit had needed ironing, but it was thrown on, creases and all. He burnt his toast, and spilt his coffee, and then to top it off, he left the house in his bare feet and had to run back inside to get his shoes. It was start of another bad day.

When he finally left the building, he quickly slid his mask into place, wrapping his scarf around his mouth over the top of it, and pulled his goggles, blinking away the stinging feeling that had already begun in those few short seconds. The walk to the station was a short one, and he was thankful to get inside, out of the crushing density of the cloud, even if it meant standing in line at the ticket stall for half an hour. At least he could breath without the mask. He was still half asleep, and didn't really notice when the woman came in. It wasn't until she started her rasping cough that he turned round in curiosity, but he quickly looked away, and hoped she hadn't spotted him. But today was a bad day. He wasn't so lucky.

The tug came on the sleeve of his coat, and with an embarrassed blush growing on his face, he turned around. The other commuters in the line were watching with interest, and he tried to avoid their eyes.

"Please," She stopped to cough again. "Please y-you've got to help me,"

"I'm sorry, I'm in a rush," It was a blatant lie, the line was going anywhere fast.

He tried not to take in her appearance, the ragged cloths, the dark, black stains spreading from around her eyes, mouth and nose, like ink stains on a pale white parchment. Her skin was cracking and dry, it looked like it was flaking off completely in places, and her hair was a patchwork quilt of knots and tangles, and bald patches.

"But it's me! You've got to help me Sigdan! Please, we were friends!" He woman rasped, clawing at him with black fingers.

He flinched as she said his name, taking another horrified look at her, and that was when he realised that he did know her. It was Etta, the kindly middle aged woman who used to make him tea at his work. She'd been on the same floor as him since he'd started, her cubicle was only a few desks down. She hadn't come to work one day, and no one knew exactly why. Rumour had it that the boss had been tipped off, that she was talking to the dead folk, and he'd sent her packing. And judging by her impoverished state, it looked like the rumours were true.

"Etta, I'm sorry, I can't, you know the rules," He mumbled, turning away again, trying to ignore her chocking gasps for air.

"Please, they come for me Sigdan! They come for me in the dark!" She began to sob, but her cough made her double over, black spit flying from her mouth.

The line began to move again, and he felt a sense of relief jump inside him. He started to follow it, shaking her off as gently as he could. She couldn't follow, the other commuters were pushing past her, and she was struggling for air, the hacking cough sounding out harsh and loud.

"You're sick Etta, " He called over his shoulder, and then took his ticket from the attendee, following the man in front of him into the shuttle.

The shuttles were built to resemble better days, and looked much like trains of old Earth. Or at least, that's what everyone though. In reality, they were much comfier, and much more presentable, with pristine seats and great large windows that would provide a view on the journey up. He settled himself on one of such seats, still a little flustered after his encounter, but happy to be travelling up and away from the troubles on the ground. Other commuters took out their infoGlass, to read, or check the news. But Sigdan waited patiently for the view that never grew old, that had amazed him since the first day he'd taken the journey.

The shuttle started to glide into action, steadily increasing spread as it flew upwards, out of the station and into the thick, dark air of the Cloud. After a few short claustrophobic moments, it shot out of the dense smog, into the clear crisp air above. From here, the passengers could see the rising sun, its light glinting off the polished surfaces in the shuttle. The sky was a deep, bright indigo, and the Cloud below a great swath of dark grey and black, like a churning, moody ocean below. The towering structures of the business sector grew out of the dark like shining pillars, the sun dancing off their windows. Sigdan was once again left in awe at the sight. It would never get old. He would never be bored of sailing above the Cloud.

They reach the offices within a few short minutes, and the commuters silently left, one by one, no pushing or shoving, polite as always. He plodded through the building, reaching his cubicle, and slung his coat over the back of his chair, before sitting down, and placing his telehelmet over his eyes, ready to begin his ten hour shift. The customers were there and waiting, his job had begun for another day. A bad day. It would be a few short hours before Sigdan noticed Etta watching him from her previously empty cubicle. A few short hours before he would realise that Etta was dead, and life as he knew it, would cease to exist.

It was the dead of night. The suns had set, the largest first, followed by the second a few hours later, dipping beyond the horizon and bathing the land in a deep, dark moody red. The sky was a scattering of diamonds, twinkling above in a celestial banner, and in the distance, the snow capped mountains stretched up to meet it. There was a slight breeze that night, sending the silver leaves shimmering in the half light. It was truly beautiful, but the girl viewed it all from behind the glass walls of the citadel.

It was past curfew by a good couple of hours. But that didn't stop her taking her usual seat, back against the cool stone wall, on the balcony. She liked to imagine the feel of the night's wind on her face, the sound of the night animals, but all she heard was a ringing silence, stifled beneath the dome's glass. Still, the view was terrific, but that wasn't what she was there for. No, Aobh was listening, listening for the most important sound of her repetitive life. A sound that brought freedom with it.

To a normal human eye, Aobh appeared to be around twelve years old. There was nothing odd about her appearance, except perhaps the plain red robes she wore, which were fraying at the edges, and sported dusty marks all over. But the girl was in fact forty-eight years old. She was a Timelady, part of the ancient race that had built the great citadel inside the glass dome, time travelers, scholars, Gods to some. And she was bored out of her mind.

A noise behind her startled her out of her dozing state, making her whack the back of her head off the stone behind, and bring tears to her eyes. Clutching her throbbing skull, she looked around guilty, before giving a sigh of frustration. It was only Carthis, chief busy body of the class, and quite possibly the most annoying girl on earth.

"Out past curfew again Lungbarrow? Wait until I tell-"

"You can't tell anyone, they'll know you were up too!" Aobh snapped back before the girl could finish her sentence.

Carthis glared, crossing her arms and clicking her tongue. But she was knew Aobh was right, and stayed in a quiet huff, at least until she thought up her next jibe.

"He won't come you know. He doesn't care about you or the rest of your stupid family," She crossed to the balcony, leaning against it so she was in Aobh's direct view. A cocky smirk was on her face, a smirk that made Aobh want to punch it off. But she'd already been in trouble for a scuffle earlier in the week, and she wasn't going to push her luck. Taking the moral high ground, she stayed silent. Carthis just laughed.

"Go back to bed Carthis," Aobh finally said quietly, looking back out at the view. Carthis didn't move.

"I don't know why you like him so much anyway, he disgraced your entire house after all," She sneered once more. Aobh set her jaw firmly.

"He's not exiled anymore,"

"But he was Lungbarrow, the damage is done. You're all worthless lumps of dirt now," That smirk was still there, and by Rassilon, it was infuriating!

She was standing then, fist clenched. Aobh hadn't even realised she was getting up, but now, she was standing, ready to dive at the girl in front of her. Carthis leaned back, arms gripped the railing, smiling. She knew what she was doing. She knew what would happen if Aobh snapped. And she knew how to make it happen.

"He won't come. Why would he want you anyway?"

And Aobh was striding across the space, view forgotten, arm raised, ready to whack Carthis with all of the strength her small frame could muster when it came. The deep, guttural sound she had been dreaming off for months. How long had it been? How many nights had she sat on the balcony? And he was finally here. There was only one person who flew a TARDIS like that.

Carthis' face was a mask of confusion. "Someones left the brakes on...who-"

Aobh never heard the end of her sentence. She was already out of the door, dashing down the empty corridor towards the grand staircase, feet slapping noisily against the marble floors. A capped head poked out of one of the many doors, a red robed figured stepping out as she sped past, but she ignored whoever was shouting behind her, and hit the stairs, not slowing down as she skipped to the bottom, nearly stumbling and flying her length. She hit the main entrance hall of the Acadamy, not stopping at the great carved doors, and sprinted out onto the walkway that joined the great school to the rest of the citadel.

There were other Timelords here, not many but a few, pacing the halls of the citadel, some carrying papers, others string purposely towards unknown destinations. The girl ran past all of them, ignoring the startled gazes, diving past the clutching arms of one individual intent on taking her back to the Academy. She was close now, another few flights of stairs and she'd reach her destination, the designated area for incoming TARDIS. And that's where she'd find him. She only hoped that he would still be there when she arrived.

The guards working were half asleep. A small girl was the last thing they were expecting to see, and she managed to dash past before they realised what was happening. Aobh had spotted it. A blue box among the rows of grey tubes that were standard TARDIS. Shaped like a Police Box from earth, it was stuck. And she rather liked it that way, because it was different from the everything she was familiar with. It was exciting. She reached the doors, stopping with a sudden thud against the wood, and knocked. There was no answer. She tried the door, finding it locked, and knocked again, more insistent. But nobody came.

Her hearts were thudding from the run down, and she was gasping in breath, looking around desperately. What now? Where was he? The guards were marching towards her, looking thunderous. She hesitated at the door, unsure where to turn. She was going to be in so much trouble when they took her back, and now, it would all be for nothing. The advancing guards, reached out, ready to grab her, and she darted between them, feeling triumphant until a sudden jolt in her arm told her they had caught her sleeve. She began to struggle, kicking out blinding as the began to drag her towards the doors.

"Let me go! Let go!"

The guards ignored her protests, dragging her back to the academy. She glanced back at the blue box longingly, still fighting, and then she heard him.

"Ah gentlemen!" Came a voice to their right, from the offices. "A word if I may!"

Striding out purposefully beside a nervous looking engineer, was a man. He was dressed quite peculiarly, different from the other Timelords, in a white suit jacket and stripey trousers. A matching hat sat atop his sandy head, and a green stick of what looked like celery was fastened to his lapel. The guards stood, jaws hanging open, and Aobh felt their grip slacken. The girl's face broke into an ecstatic smile when she saw him and she took the opportunity to wrench herself free, dashing across the shining marble floor to the man, where she rushed in behind him, peaking out from the protection of his odd jacket. The guards started towards them, but he shook his head.

"It's alright gents, I'll make sure she get's back safe,"

The more confident of the guards straightened up. "Sir, it is our duty to return the delinquent girl-"

"I believe it was your duty to stop her gaining access to the room in the first place, am I correct?"

The guards looked at each other, unsure, and then reluctantly took a step back, heading towards the door once more. Whether or not they alerted their superiors, Aobh wouldn't find out for a while. After all, there was all of time and space to explore. She grabbed the strange man by the hand, dragging him towards the blue box.

"Come on Doctor! Lets go now!" She turned back to grin at him and stopped, a horrified look spreading across her face. The Doctor was not there. There was only darkness.

A crushing black darkness. It was approaching from all sides. She spun around on the spot, a whimper in her throat and tears in her eyes, trying to find the Doctor, to find anything, but there was nothing but darkness, and a ringing in her ears, and the smell. The smell of burning.

The screams erupted around her, and in an instant she was older. Clinging to the console of a burning TARDIS, flames licking up all around. The crew were dying around her. And there was Carthis, no, Chief Science Officer Carthis, lying lifeless on the cold metal grating, eyes staring out at nothing.

I woke with a strangled cry escaping my throat. The open book that had been lying on my knee slid off and hit the floor below with a thud. The woolen blanket covering me was wrapped awkwardly around my legs, and I half pulled, half wrestled it off, before rocketing to me feet. I finally realised where I was, the TARDIS library, and let out a great huffing breath, ruffling my hair with frustration. This was why I shouldn't sleep! It wasn't as if I needed to, I just enjoyed it. Well, I used too. But these dreams took away all of the pleasure.

Picking up the discarded book, I bent the pages back to their intended position, pausing to take a sniff of its musty smell, before setting it down on the chair. And then I began the journey back to the console room, through the massive library with its multiple floors and Olympic size swimming pool, round the seemingly endless corridors, up stairs and down, right and left and forward and back, until I reached it, glowing brightly. I must say, I loved this look for the TARDIS. The coral walls and structures, the bright turquoise shining column. It really was quite marvelous.

The room seemed empty. Over the hum of the TARDIS, it seemed quiet, apart from a small buzzing noise that seemed to echo around the great domed room. I padded lightly around the console, the grating creaking slightly under my wake, until I reached the other side. A piece of the floor had been pulled back, revealing a jumbled mess of cables and wires. A mess of brown hair stuck out, the source of the buzzing noise. It stopped, and the Doctor looked up from his tangle of wires.

"Nice hair," He smirked, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes in return, leaning against the console behind me and folding my arms.

"Broken something again?" I asked.

"No, just fixing her after the last time you decided to help," The sonic buzzed again, and then stopped. "You've been sleeping again,". It wasn't a question.

"Yup,"

"Been dreaming again," Another statement. I didn't answer this time.

The Doctor placed a hand on either side of the hole, hoisting himself up and out onto the metal grating. He fixed me with a scrutinizing gaze. I met it for a few moments, and then flicked my eyes down to my feet. He could read me like a book.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, and I huffed out a breath.

"Was nothing different. Just the crash. That time you picked me up after I ran all the way to the landing bay. Carthis,"

"Carthis?" His eyebrows raised dramatically. "Blimey, I'd forgotten about her!"

I shuffled my feet, uncomfortably. Trying to block out the dream from my head.

"She was on the ship,"

"Oh..." The Doctor's mouth sat agape for a few seconds. He looked exactly like a man who thought he'd just put his foot in it. I was enough to bring a small smile to my face.

He stood , brushing his hands off of his suit jacket, and joined me, leaning against the console and crossing his arms. He looked down at me past his long, thin nose, mad hair sticking out and hanging over his eyes.

"Anyway, that doesn't matter, like I said, nothing new. Where to?" I changed the subject quickly, plastering a smile over my face. No point dwelling on dreams, that's all they were after all. Just dreams. I only had to stop sleeping. Not a big ask, right?

The Doctor frowned, clearly not happy with the sudden change of topic, but then launched into action, slamming leavers into place and hitting buttons here and there, the great glass column beginning to rise and fall with a familiar groan. The floor began to vibrate beneath us, and the console glowed brightly. I turned around, gripping it tightly, ready for another wild ride. The Doctor grinned at me over the controls.

"Allons-y!"