Author's notes: Takes place somewhere toward the end of Series 2. Tenth doctor and Rose. This is my first Doctor Who story (although not my first fanfic), so please be gentle. I tend to update frequently, but I have a lot going on in my life, so updates probably won't be daily.

Secret Door

Chapter 1

Body flattened against a large rectangular stone, Rose peeked around the corner to search the weary, angst-ridden faces of the workers. Their thin, nearly-bare bodies were scattered in clusters among the endless piles of massive boulders, engaged in various tasks. Some of the men stood in a line, pulling on a rope around a square chunk of stone until it inched forward. His face was not among them. She wondered how she would ever find him in the sea of workers climbing the gigantic structure like ants on a mission.

She kept searching for what seemed like hours, darting back and forth, always using the stone blocks as cover. Although she was camouflaged in a simple tunic, she would still stand out to the masters as a lone woman, her blonde hair standing out like a sore thumb. She knew he would be in the quarry, but it was the size of several football fields, and it contained thousands of slaves. But she would continue until she found him, or until she was captured once more, whichever came first. She would not give up until she found the doctor—her doctor.

Finally she spotted him, standing at the edge of a block wearing nothing but a loin cloth. His black, wispy hair had grown long and dull and hung into his face, making it impossible to see his eyes. But she could see his exhaustion in his gritted teeth and the sweat glistening on his face. He raised his hand, and now she saw the stone hammer it grasped. Swinging it down with protruding muscles, he slammed it against a chisel in his other hand on the face of the rock, and then lifted his arm and did it again. 'Ching, ching, ching,' it sang out, over and over again, as he slammed the hammer down repetitively, smoothing out the face of the boulder.

'My poor doctor,' she thought. 'I wonder how long . . .'

But she could already tell from his skinny frame and his weathered face that it had been far too long. She slid along the edge of the rocks until she stood only feet away from him, hiding behind a boulder so as not to reveal herself to the watching guard, who wore one of the creepy elongated dog masks to cover up his true identity.

She knew who lurked under there, and the damage his angry race was eager to inflict. The doctor had called them the Anubis, creatures who had been mistaken for gods long ago. But she liked to call them dog-men.

The doctor stopped chiseling long enough to catch his breath, and gasped to the guard, "Please . . . I need to rest." The sun hung low in the sky, and she thought he had probably been laboring since morning. Now she saw the shackles around his feet, and it broke her heart to see him so subjugated and weary. He leaned against the wall and said, "Please . . ."

The dog-head master stared in his direction, the exact trajectory of his gaze concealed behind the mask. He lifted a whip that oozed electrical charges in glowing wisps of blue light, and Rose had to bite her tongue to keep from yelling out, "Doctor, look out!"

The whip fell hard onto the doctor's bare back, and the sound of sparking leather slapping against his skin made her recoil. She brought her hands up to her mouth and caught a gasp before it could escape her lips. Only seconds after the doctor cried out in pain, the whip smacked him again, and this time he fell to the ground on his hands and knees.

Unable to contain her rage anymore, Rose screamed out, "Leave him alone!" as she ran toward the dog-man, unconsciously picking up a heavy stone on the way. She was on the guard before he had time to react, and she tackled him with her full weight, knocking him to the ground. Without forethought, she slammed the rock into his head over and over, but it made no difference—the mask protected his head and his hands flew up defensively to grab her arms.

But Rose was high on adrenaline by then, and she managed to yank her rock-yielding arm free and jab a pointy corner of it into the dog-man's chest before he could stop her. She made contact with his rib-cage, and it knocked the wind out of him. Before he could recover, she brought the stone to his chest again and again, until he stopped moving altogether.

Realizing what she had done, she dropped the stone and cupped her hands to her mouth again, and then wiped away a torrent of tears. Then she remembered the doctor, and turned her head toward him to see him lying on his side on the dry, dusty ground.

Rushing to him, she said, "Doctor," in a hushed, worried tone.

His eyes were closed at first, but they pried open when he heard her voice. "Rose," he said, a weak smile appearing on his face and then disappearing almost as quickly as he choked on a piece of dust.

She smiled back at him, resting a hand gently on his shoulder. Then she examined his back, running a finger alongside one of the bloody gashes laced across it. "Oh, doctor," she said softly, clicking her tongue. "I don't like the looks of that. But we'd better get out of here."

She took out the sonic screwdriver, which she had tucked away in the folds of her tunic, and used it against the shackles on his legs until one by one, they clicked open and his feet were free. "Can you stand?"

Without waiting for an answer, she put one hand under his arm and hoisted him to his unsteady feet. He staggered forward in jolted, labored steps, leaning on her for support. "Come on," she urged, putting her arm around his bare back, holding him up the best she could, being careful not to put too much pressure on his open wounds.

They clamored down stone steps and stumbled to the outskirts of the operation, and Rose kept a watchful eye out for dog-headed guards as she guided the weary doctor to safety. When she wanted to hurry him, he resisted, and she remembered that his feet were bare, making them susceptible to pointy bits of gravel. "Why did I park so far away?" she asked aloud, but he was too weak to respond with a witty comeback. But she forgave herself, knowing that she had been lucky to make it back at all, let alone as close as she did.

They came to an abandoned corridor between two towering stacks of sharply cut boulders, and he gasped between gritted teeth, "I need to rest."

She glanced around to make sure they were alone, and then said softly, "Okay, Doctor," and gently lowered him to sitting on top of a flat rock.

She sat next to him, propping him up, and the full weight of his malnourished body leaned against her, panting. But he raised his drooping head and looked into her eyes lovingly with a grin. "Rose Tyler," he wheezed. "I knew you'd come back for me."

She smiled back at him and said, "Of course I did, Silly." And then her smile faded as she remembered—it had been mere minutes for her, but obviously much longer for him. "How long has it been?"

The smile stayed plastered on his lips, but his eyes turned down at the corners, and she detected a deep sadness in them. "Twenty years," he said.

Trying unsuccessfully to hide a grimace, she began to blink as tears started to carve crooked paths down her cheeks. "Oh my god, Doctor—I'm so sorry."

She hugged him to her, and he welcomed her embrace. "The important thing is that you came," he rasped.

She kissed the top of his head and caressed his matted hair, smoothing it down. A pebble ricocheted against a nearby rock, and she shot to her feet once more. "C'mon, Doctor, we have to go."