It was the 30th of January 1972. Somewhere an old man in velvet was fiddling with a blue box in his laboratory. Though that might have been the 1980's depending on who you ask. However, currently, said blue box was now in Derry, Northern Ireland miles from the lab at UNIT HQ, where it most certainly still resided. Here, instead of looking out upon a sterile interior with tile floors and test tubes, it was bearing witness to something it was no stranger to: a massacre.

The Doctor had seen bloodshed before. It was still fresh in his memory. It was quite likely he would see it again too. For an idiot in a leather jacket and short brown hair, who ran from his people more times than he could count, he was stained in death. Then again, it's kind of hard to fight in the grandest war of them all and come out unscathed, as it is to travel through time and space and not get a bit of blood on your clothing. History can be a sepia-toned smorgasbord of suffering and sorrow, cleaned up and airbrushed for future posterity.

When faced with this guilt and the sobering knowledge that comes with both warfare and time travel, he often retreats inward or uses humor to diffuse the situation. Here, another older habit comes into play: He and his friends have just exited a chaotic scene and have no idea what they are getting into.

They exit the blue police box, surrounded by residential buildings in a walled city. As they conversed, they absentmindedly explored the area, in case something stood out. "I don't see why we have to leave the Maldovarium. I could go for a nice drink. That one chap almost bought me one." Complained a former time agent with missing memories and a little black book that would make Casanova blush. He was followed by a young, blonde cockney woman, who responded rather matter-of-factly after escaping the scene they just fled. "Well the bloke was married to that weird lady in the catsuit. I don't think she took too kindly to that." Rose certainly wouldn't.

"How was I supposed to know he was married to a Drahven General?" The Doctor, clad in his leather Jacket and a dark blue jumper, rolled his eyes at the Captain's penchant for boozing and bedding. "You would flirt with a Rutan while you're sober. We don't need alcohol involved, Captain, especially when there are things you can't remember as is, but people who certainly remember you."

Rose chimed in enthusiastically. "Like that frog faced bloke with the cigar. He didn't seem too thrilled when he heard your name either, Doctor." The Time Lord stood with his hands in his pockets. "We have a bit of a past, me and that one. Best not get into it. Or the talking penguin." His young blonde partner in crime laughed with a mix of amusement and confusion. "Your life makes no sense sometimes." He retorted with his infectious grin. "More fun that way. Not used to it yet?" "Of course. Wouldn't change it for the world. Any of em." The 19-year-old girl chirped happily to her temporal chaperone. "If you two are going to flirt, at least save some for me." Jack winked.

" Just saying though. Maybe we could go to Boston next time. I could go for a nice Irish Car Bomb." As if on cue, an explosion goes off within shouting distance of the trio. "What the hell was that?" exclaimed Rose, who nearly rocketed out of her trainers from the nearby bomb. The Doctor turned to his newest traveling partner. "Jack, could you kindly shut up?" The ex-time agent with the American accent stretched his arms out in an appeal to his Gallifreyan friend "Jeez. Like I could expect an explosion. Just shoot me already." And as if on cue, shots rang out, followed by panicked screams. It really wasn't Jack Harkness' day. The Doctor looked at him with sarcastic astonishment. "Anything else?" Rose suggested as the unease of their situation set in. "We better get out of here before this trip goes up in smoke." This idea was met by convenient gas grenades, courtesy of the British Government, prompting coughing and choking from the three companions. "Please the both of you. By all mean. Continue." More gunshots followed, this time, they were a lot closer. "BACK TO THE TARDIS! NOW?"

Before they could exit the scene and move on, soldiers showed up and aimed their guns. "Don't move!" "Run!" The Doctor, Rose, and Jack made a break for it, but it was utter chaos, with people being killed around them by the authorities. "Why don't we just head back to the TARDIS?" "I would rather not turn my back while guns are aimed at me, thank you very much. We'll return once it dies down." Unfortunately, it soon set in where and when they were. The Doctor stepped on a damp newspaper. The date: January 30th, 1972. They were in Derry, Northern Ireland. It was Bloody Sunday. The second one anyway.

"So, are we going to face Daleks or Slitheen or something? Is there some, like, Alien plot here?" "Nope, just human beings being stupid apes as usual. You lot and your propensity for bloodshed." The Doctor supposed he was just projecting. He did have a fondness for humans, even if they frustrated him too often. Perhaps it was still lingering guilt for his people's actions. Perhaps this in a morbid sense, gave him nostalgia for when he and his older companions got wrapped up in Earth's history, with no extraterrestrial interference or anachronisms. It was a simpler time, when sometimes a historical event was nothing more than that. Where the Doctor could just get lost in it all and just drift away afterwards, like a tourist. Of course, on the flipside, human beings had nobody to blame for their actions but themselves.

In the confusion of this attack by government upon its people, there was bedlam, and bloodshed. The parachute regiment of the British Army told them to stand down or they would shoot. Unfortunately, this meant the TARDIS crew had to scatter for the time being, but assuming neither of the Doctor's friends were among the casualties of this event, they should see each other before too long. Then they could return to the TARDIS and leave as if they had never entered, as fleeting and immaterial as ghosts, which was sadly befitting the situation. After all this, maybe a trip to the pub wasn't too bad an idea, if they all made it out in one piece. No. Not if. It was a matter of when. The Doctor may not have been able to change the course of these events without repercussions, no matter how much he might want to. But he would be damned if his friends would be counted among the casualties. He had travelled far and wide, but he wasn't going down that route again. Not today.

Rose and Jack found each other quicker than expected, but regardless, they were just happy to have found each other a few blocks later. Now they just had to find their Time Lord friend. Instead, they were found by other panicked souls. "Quickly, in here." Whispered a woman in her thirties. The former shop girl and the ex-conman weren't about to look a clichéd equine in the mouth, so they hurriedly entered the woman's house, so that they could regroup, find their friend, and leave. Rose had a sinking feeling this would take a while though.

So it has been way too long since I have written anything, but I want to blow the dust off and grow as a writer and become better than I was in the past. I have had several ideas I have wanted to explore for some time and this is one of those ideas. I feel a pure historical, if done well, could be pretty cool in modern Doctor Who, if not risky, as it would probably be felt that Daleks or something are needed to spice it up. The IRA Troubles seem like an interesting, if not bloody and tragic period to explore, through the eyes of the people there, but also these time travelers. I wanted to do a bit of a character study on how being there would impact the Doctor, Rose, and Jack. The 9th Doctor seems like the best fit for this in my opinion, since he is fresh from the Time War in comparison to his replacements. I just hope I can not only grow as a writer, but entertain and engage my audience. I also want to do the characters justice, so if anything seems a bit off, feel free to point it out, especially in regards to Rose. She's not exactly my favorite but I want to do right by her here.