A/N: Welcome fellow Doctor Who fans, this story has been in the making since the finale of Series 4 and obviously, this is set in the aftermath. I do hope people will like this story. This story was based on a RP with a dear friend of mine.

As always, Doctor Who doesn't belong to me, it belongs to the BBC; OC characters belong to me (unless specified).

Now on with the story, ne?

It Only Continues; Renegade Time Zombie

Chapter I

'The Unearthly Child'

The wind slowly drifted into the cramped room through the small crack of the opened window. A shadow of a figure lay asleep in bed, a fold out bed in a small room, a 16" television in one corner, many posters littered the walls around the dark room, shadows of figures on the 2d a3 sheets, the dull orange glow from the street swamped the upper half of the room, the light bouncing off the posters leaving them with a orange glow with a tint of white. The figure laid below in the shadows of the lower half of the room tossed and turned in his uncomfortable sleep, mentally speaking.

Sweat glistened upon his brow, soaking his brown hair in a cold sweat as well. His eyes suddenly clenched themselves shut even tighter. The distant noises of late night traffic and late nighters didn't affect him but the drumming within his head did. The flashes of orange and red light, the roar of flames wasn't present just the images of flickering flames engulfing everything around him. What's going on? Thrashing in his sleep, rolling his eyes, mimicking the motions of his eyes glancing around as he turned in all directions, calling for help but no one answered, as he lay asleep he whispered the words, whimpered them. Images of people appeared in his mind, after many moments they vanished and the other one came. His whispered their names as they came.

"Doctor...Master...S-susan...Jenny"

After whimpering them words he sprang up, sitting up he yanked the quilt from himself. Sweat covered his entire shirt on his very back, his pillow and bed sheet, slightly.

Hanging his head, bowing it he placed a hand on his clammy forehead. "Ugh.." he moaned, placing that hand and another over his cheeks and eyes, his fingers rubbing his closed eyes, trying to relax himself. His hands retreated and his eyelids opened, revealing his hazel eyes. "Why...those people, I haven't seen in my life before but they seem so familiar" he rambled to himself, his voice low so he didn't disturb any of the others in neighbouring rooms. "That fire. That sky...it couldn't have been orange or was it sunset? No...It couldn't have been." he said shaking his head trying to rid his mind of that thought. "No, it was morning." he reminded himself even though he didn't know it.

Getting up out of bed he stretched slightly, waking himself up.

"If I'm up I might as well stay up" he said calmly, he was about 5"5, roughly about the right size for his teenage age of 15.

Going into his wardrobe he picked out some clothes and started to get changed. He began putting on a t-shirt and baggy trousers. Reaching for his coat he pulled it around his shoulders. Opening his door slowly and silently he left his room, he crept to where he left the keys, he didn't know why he was creeping, it was only him in the orphanage, ha, I guess old habits die hard?, no turning back now, as he unlocked the front door, glancing up and down the street to make sure it was deserted he turned and locked to the door and left the empty shell that he called 'home'. Pulling his jacket around him he headed out for the bay, hoping it was dead around this time in the early morning on a Saturday night, highly unlikely but hopefully it would. At a dawdling pace he picked up his feet and went into a brisk walk, wanting to get there for some reason but yet not.

After many minutes of walking he reached the bay, the square he usually came too. He was walking less stealthily as before as he reached a bench, lining himself up with the bench he fell backwards onto the cool seat, his head over the top, and the top rail on the back of his neck. His eyes cast over the clear starry sky.

"Time to relax and get my head around this thing" he said to himself, trying to keep his mind on track. That dream...he always dreamt of it but he didn't know why, why? He had never seen those people before and that fire was that a part of his past? He did not know; he didn't know anything before the age of five, ever since he was on the orphanage doorstep, nothing, and it was all a blank. He didn't even know his own name if he ever had one.

It was late in Cardiff, but this colourful figure that rounded the bend past a few old boathouses was both wide awake and in some kind of hurry. Even in these twilight hours the coat she wore of all colours swirled in an absurdly annoying pattern glowed under the lonely lights that guarded the empty edifice. Other than all that, she looked somewhat normal if not either caffeinated or insomniac. Her eye colour was both obscured by the darkness and her glasses for the brown colour they truly had been to show through. Her hair was straight and long, a dirty blonde as her friends used to jokingly put it...too long ago. No, now she didn't really have any friends, so no one made any comments about it. She appeared lost, as she had suddenly come to a halt by the square, looking about in all directions ahead of her.

"It must be here somewhere..." she muttered to herself, cautiously moving forward. She had not yet spotted the other individual; she wasn't looking for him. Even if her gaze led over him a couple of times, he didn't register just yet.

Katherine was positively sure of it. Something in this bay area was disrupting the machine's output signals. Ever since she arrived in Cardiff the ERROR message had not left the back of her hand, so here there must be some serious temporal interference, or at least enough to throw off a low grade time travelling device from its coordinates. Once she got the d**ned thing upgraded this would no longer be an issue, but unfortunately there wasn't a whole lot of time to work it all out. Whatever was going on here was of bigger importance to her than an inconvenience. She also didn't know about the rift.

Clearly by her accent, she was American, which better explained her awake status at the moment. To her all of Europe was moving a little too much faster especially with all these 'little green men', as Katherine had dubbed all alien life forms, trouncing about here more than anywhere else. Poor unlucky bastards.

But she disliked them, those aliens. Any time she ran into one or another on her travels they were always up to something and even worse, referring to humans as inferior beings. Screw them! All kinds were 'inferior' once! And if humans were so weak, why do these aliens insist on returning? No. Even better. Why do they always split after a day or two?

She knew the answer. It was some Doctor fellow. Every once in a while she'd stop something herself; stop something that was never supposed to happen. All the epic stuff though, there might as well be a tag saying 'the Doctor was here' on all of it. Who was this guy anyways? A Time Agent? No...Time Agents lack the imagination and the brain to save people on such a massive scale from alien life. The mysterious bunch in the black van? Only've been seeing them in Cardiff so far. This Doctor fellow was probably a rogue like herself. The worst part though was that no one knew what he looked like, but the ironic part was that she had indeed seen the Doctor before, in his eighth incarnation, she just didn't know it was him.

But there was none of the signs here. She found a website on him a while back done by this guy who was killed during a mannequin attack on one of those insane Christmas escapades England has been subjected to the past few years. There was no blue box in sight, no madness, just pure silent mystery. Just in case, for whatever reason she removed her left glove just a little to look at the display again. There's that ERROR message. With a frown Katherine slid her glove back on and walked along the path, hands in her coat. She finally did register the other person, some sleepless guy like herself, only she bet mentally that he was nothing like herself. Ah, what did it matter? He wasn't particularly strange, this kid. Either way she was approaching the bench and paused a few feet away from it, also looking up at the sky. She hadn't thought of that until just now. Perhaps this place was just under universally bad reception.

"Clear night sky. I haven't seen one like this since I got here," Katherine finally said, attempting to stir up a very light conversation. It didn't hurt to be social every now and then. One could learn things.

His gaze didn't leave the stars.

"Yes, it is beautiful but not as beautiful as the orange sky of-" he began but he paused, the name on the tip of his tongue, but his mind couldn't register or recognise the name that he wanted to voice, how odd; that's been happening a lot recently, raising his head he glanced at Kat then her left hand. Pointing towards it even though he couldn't see it,
" You won't get a signal here with that device" he said but then realised what he was saying and stopped. Clips and knowledge slowly came back to him.

Katherine gave the boy a glance, slightly startled when indeed, as she feared, he noted the device that was still concealed under the black leather glove. "Yeah, I figured," she said, trailing off. Maybe he was a Time Agent, because not only was that quick, but the boy wasn't pointing at a mobile or something. He hit the nail on the head on his first try. Still, instead of erupting in all of her pent up fury towards the group of time rangers, so she called them, she looked away pretending to be indifferent to the observation. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

At least she could drag this out and learn a little more about this fellow. She already knew he was sharp at best, but then again if he was a Time Agent she would be well unimpressed. By now they should know a girl in a ridiculous coat was the 'terrorist' they were searching for.

He chuckled with a smug look on his face. He stopped his pointing, letting his hand drop to his lap casually.

" You didn't know there is a rift through time and space running through Cardiff from the Medusa Cascade?" he asked with a smug grin, but as soon as he said it, the smug vanished with a shocked expression, confusion written on his face, he was saying a lot of things he didn't understand recently. As soon as he overcame the confusion at his own answer his face returned to the smug smirk.

"They don't necessarily talk about it in medical school," Katherine retorted, not taking in Chris' smug very well. Especially now, when she was almost 80% sure he was a Time Agent (or even smaller percent alien). She leaned on the edge of the bench with a frown, prepared now to face the music if she was a correct as she believed she was.

"Who are you?" she asked, still looking off at the bay. "Really." She added, in a insisting tone.

"I don't know my name is Christopher Grey but... anything other than that I don't know" he said to none in particular mostly towards himself. "I haven't been myself lately... ever since... oh never mind." He added, shaking his head slowly.

Right...he didn't know. There's no way she'd let this guy get away by playing the stupid card. He was up to something what with all that knowledge stored up in his head. He was maybe trying to catch her off guard or worse, make a total fool out of her. Wait for her to slip up somewhere and then take her in to Headquarters where they're just dying to black bag her and store her away in a freezer or something.

Wow...too many nights watching conspiracy movies.

"I don't know what you're trying to get at," she began, her tone growing more defensive by the second. "I've done so much to protect this planet and you lot still consider me a terrorist? Well screw you then!" She was done guessing. By now she completely believed that 'Christopher' here was one of the agents. "Do you have any idea what I'm trying to do now? Any clue? I'm trying to find the bastard responsible for the assassination of the President! And what are you doing? Sitting here trying to make a fool of me?"

"American" he breathed standing up, he could make out her accent now; finally getting more pronounced as she raised her voice more and more with her anger, geez, why did Americans have to make a big deal out of everything? He kept his eyes on the sky until he lowered his gaze towards Kat.

"I doubt that you will see him again and he wasn't a bastard!" he said, his voice calm until he finally snapped out the last bit. Why the hell was he defending that murderer, he had no clue.

Katherine backed away, but she was still standing firm to show that she was nowhere near intimidated enough. "He wasn't a bast-you have no idea! None! You won't remember the year that never happened! How close the world was to war with the entire universe! How mad this Harold Saxon was that was elected by hm-let-me-guess...saps like you!" She then came close, seething with anger at this one fellow who just minutes ago was just another lonely sort sitting on a bench and minding his own business. "If you know so much about me, Chris, then you would understand. I did not forget. I cannot. Half of my brain is nuts and bolts and the year that supposedly never happened, DID."

Finally getting out of his face, Katherine paced on the walkway, muttering a curse or two. "He's still out there alive. I know it. The day he disappeared it stopped but now I can hear the signal again." As she paced she had walked around the bench, tapping on the edge the very familiar drumming...

He didn't listen to Kat, the constant four-beat noise in his head making it easy for his senses to dull and ignore the noise that was 'Kat'. Sitting back on the bench he put his head in his hands, trying to think but the noise in his head getting louder and the scene of a man he recognised as Harold Saxon, the man he knew as the Prime Minister had the same face as the man... from his dreams... the man he used that name for. WHO WAS HE? He wanted to shout, but as he finally remembered what Kat was finally cursing about he remembered that, she was looking for him? So he was alive? Then the question changed to; Who IS the name he knew as Harold Saxon but dubbed the Master?

A/N: So, what do you think? :wink: