I Still Believe—

Doctor Who

In which the Doctor visits Anne Frank.

Summer 1942, Nazi-inhabited Netherlands. It was certainly a time and a place to remember. It would be forever burned into my memory, like the disappearance of the Lost Moon of Poosh, like the Angels' invasion of New Earth, like the creation of Raxacoricofallapatorius's twin planet Klom.

Yes, the summer of 1942 in Nazi-controlled Europe. That was a time for the history books, it was. More specifically, it was the people whose stories started in that summer that really made it one for remembering.

I distinctly recall Anne Frank's family. July 6, 1942. The day was hot, so hot, but Anne, Margot, and their parents were all covered in layers and layers of clothing. They didn't want to run the risk of being spotted with luggage. They trekked for quite a long time, finally arriving at the Secret Annex.

But enough about their journey. I remember a different occasion, Hitler's Machtergreifung, or seizure of power. He grasped the position of Chancellor of Germany in early 1933. Anne had been three years old then, and Margot was six, and their parents thought the suppression would pass. Most of Germany did at that time.

The Franks fled to Amsterdam in 1934, thinking they'd be safe there. I don't really know why I'd followed them so much. I felt an attachment to them, specifically to Anne. It always surprised me every time I saw her words:

Despite everything, I still believe people are really good at heart.

And I spent an eternity (quite literally an eternity—I was stuck in the void for quite a bit and trying to occupy my time) trying to figure out just exactly how it was possible for her to have so much hope, so much faith in humanity, when I myself have lost it so many times.

And so, I watched her. I watched Anne and her family; I gave sideways glances at the building that contained the Secret Annex, occasionally slipping into the bottom floor at nighttime and listening to the sounds of the families breathing upstairs. In a few years, all the inhabitants of the Annex would be killed. Otto Frank would be the only one to survive the war.

I wanted to help.

Please, believe me.

I wanted to save Anne and Margot and Peter and give them the lives that were wrenched away from them. I wanted to stop Anne from dying, and I wanted to watch her grow up. She always wished to be a journalist, and I wanted to give that to her.

But I couldn't. I couldn't save Anne. Her death was a fixed point in time and I was powerless to help.

Of course, I usually find a way around these things. A loophole, if you will. Even though I could not save Anne's life, maybe I could save her hope. Maybe I could preserve her memory. And so I listened. I listened to the frightened whispers of Miep and Jan Gies, those who helped hide the Annex, and when it seemed like Anne was losing it, I interfered.

Silence was important, of course. Even though I loved the sound of the TARDIS, I had to turn the damn brakes on (River would be delighted) when I visited the Annex. The TARDIS made a hushed landing in the middle of the main room, and I crept towards the door to Anne. It was slightly ajar, enough for me to slip through. As I'd imagined, Fritz Pfeffer was snoring in bed, but Anne was wide awake, clinging onto the edge of her bed.

It took a few minutes for her to realize I was there. She jumped, but she instinctively made no noise. A few years in hiding will do that to you. "Who are you?" Anne Frank whispered, clutching her blanket to her chin. I could see her eyes frantically searching the room for anything to use as a possible weapon—and frankly (pardon the pun) I don't blame her. Madman in a bowtie shows up in your room in the middle of the night when you're supposed to be hiding from the Nazi Party—hey, I'd freak out too. Especially if I were a 14 year old teenage girl. Which, I'm not. Usually.

I was about to explain myself (dear god, imagine what a mess that would've been) but Anne suddenly stopped panicking. Recognition flashed in her eyes, surprising me. Well, I had been watching her family for a while, and it was possible she might've seen me—

I'm not a stalker, I swear!

I didn't say it, but I was thinking it.

To my surprise, Anne smiled. "I knew you'd come," she whispered. Her hand dropped the blanket and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up silently.

"Oh—?" I managed. "Really, now?"

"You've been watching us. I see you sometimes, out the window. You and that box," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There's something off about it. It doesn't belong here." She looked past my shoulder, into the moonlit room beyond and my TARDIS standing there.

"Oh." I should probably work on my nonexistent stealth skills.

"Can I see?" she asked, eyes lit up with that familiar curiosity and wonder I'd heard about, and now witnessed firsthand.

I didn't say anything for a long time. I really should think these things through. What the bloody hell was I thinking? Sometimes I think I just BS my way through being a time lord.

"'Course," I said, stepping back. I walked over to the TARDIS, unlocking her and beckoning the girl to follow.

"How'd you get that in here?" She stood up and followed, standing in front of me and trying to peek past me into the TARDIS.

"It's a long story. Come and see?"

Eagerly, she pushed past me, into the control room. Her eyes widened and she pivoted around on her foot, her mouth hanging open in surprise. I smirked.

"Go ahead, say it. They all do."

"It's—it's bigger on the inside," she whispered, voice cracking with awe. She turned to me. "What is it?"

"She's called the TARDIS. Time and Relevant Dimension in Space." I reached out, closing the door behind us. "She's a time machine. She can go anywhere in time and space. And she's mine."

Anne mouthed the word TARDIS, running her hand along the main controls. She laughed, then clamped her hand over her mouth, looking at me in fear.

"Don't worry, she's soundproof."

Her hand fell away.

"Why are you showing me all this? Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, and— "

"Doctor who?"

"Just…the Doctor. I want to show you something. Think about the thing you want most in the world right now."

She considered. I could see the wheels in her head turning, and she blushed sheepishly. "Well, Peter—"

Exasperated, I cut her off. "No, I mean more than that. Deeper than that. What do you want?"

This time, she took longer. Anne's face creased with concentration, and she absently scratched the back of her head. I do that too.

"I want to know that all this is worth it. Does the war end? Will we be okay?"

I smiled. This is what I wanted to hear. Springing to action, I allowed my hands to fly over the controls (remembering to keep those damn breaks off! Again!) and fast-forwarded to June 1945. That was another time to remember—the Allied forces and the Soviet Union had finally gotten the Axis to surrender. 20,000 concentration camps were discovered and liberated throughout Europe, along with the unearthing of over seven million 'accidents.' This was what I wanted her to see.

We landed in Berlin. I opened the door and tilted my head. "Go on. Take a look."

Skeptically, she walked towards the door and hesitantly stepped outside. I allowed myself a smile when I heard her gasp of surprise. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice carrying on the gentle breeze.

I followed her out, shutting the door behind me, and squinted my eyes against the sun. "Berlin, 1945. The Nazis are defeated."

The look on her face was priceless. I watched her spot a discarded newspaper on the ground and run over to it, picking it up. She read the date and the headline, and turned to me. Tears were now cascading down her cheeks. "What did I tell you?" I said.

She dropped the newspaper and ran to me, throwing her arms around my body. "Whoa, easy there," I said, but I hugged back. She squeezed harder.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said.

And I think she understood.

I think she knew that she couldn't stay here, and that this was a long way off. I think she knew that I was showing this to her, of all people, because she wouldn't get the chance to see it later. How she was able to understand all that and still remain grateful, I'll never know.

It surprises me what humans can do.

Anne pulled away eventually, leaning against the side of the TARDIS. There would be more troubles to come for the world, of course, but right now I'm certain that all she could see was the words of the headline, printed across her vision, saying that the war was finally over.

"I'm ready to go back now," she said after a while. She looked up at me and smiled a smile so sad and so knowing it tore my hearts in two. I still can't believe how she, a 14 year old girl, was able to accept the fact that she wasn't going to live.

I don't think I would be able to.

We both reentered the TARDIS, and I landed back in the room in the Secret Annex. A few minutes had passed, at the most. We both stepped out, walking over to the room where Fritz was still snoring contently. She pulled her diary out from underneath her mattress, and in the darkness of the room, she began to write.

I know which line she was putting down at that exact moment.

I know.

You know.

She knows.

I left her to her writing, walking back to my TARDIS. I cast her one last longing look before I closed the door, and as quietly as I could, steered away from Amsterdam, 1944.

I've been told that the sound of the TARDIS brings hope to people. That whooshing, whirring, mechanical sound of her landing and taking off gives people the faith they need to move on.

But with Anne, it wasn't needed. The silence was enough.

Anne, the boisterous and energetic little girl, who had accepted her death in silence. Who had seen the ending of the war and responded with quiet tears. Who quietly wrote in her diary at night, crafting the words that would hold her memory for centuries.

I've done many things I regret in my long life, but among them there are the scattered moments when I accomplish something great. This was one of those moments. It's hard to believe that I myself really am good at hearts, but sometimes, I think, it's all worth it.

And if Anne still believed, then, I guess, so did I.

A/N: I got the idea for this from a short headcanon by a tumblr user, but sadly, I have no idea who the person was. If any of you know who originally wrote the headcanon, please let me know so I can give them credit ^_^