Iota knelt down on the floor of their makeshift home so she was eye to eye with Viram. The toddler looked back at her solemnly.
"You stay here," she told him. "You gotta watch Tianna while I'm gone, okay?"
He nodded mutely, patting her cheek with a grimy hand. She tousled his hair before standing back up and heaving the rifle over her shoulder. It was a miracle she could even carry it – the weapon was almost as long as she was tall.
Really, there wasn't much she could even do. They needed food, but the rifle had finally fizzled out and died a few days ago so they had no way to catch anything. Vegetation was almost entirely non-existent despite the slow return of the grass and they would starve if she didn't try.
Scurrying out into the dim outdoors, she made a beeline for the remnants woods and tried not to think about how much brighter it was back by their fire. Out here it was dark, and the sky above her was like nothing she had ever seen. It was too still, too quiet, it was endless and empty and vast and it terrified her. She was so hungry.
The trees seemed to mock her. Every shadow was a Dalek, every crackle of the twigs underfoot and every faint rustle of the wind was something right behind her shoulder. The rifle in her hands was useless, even if she could aim to begin with, and by the time the den disappeared from sight behind her she was shaking like a leaf. She tried not to think of Viram, alone by the fire, tried not to think of how far away she was from anything resembling help.
And three things seemed to happen at once.
Off in the distance, a bird let out a loud caw that had her nearly jumping out of her skin. At the same time, she stepped on a stick that broke with a crack and she would probably need to pull splinters out of her foot later, and what could only be described as a feral roar seemed to echo all around her.
She screamed and gripped the rifle tightly in both her hands, looking around frantically. Her breathing came in shallow gasps and she couldn't find the source of the noise- what was it, where was it? The roar sounded again, and she was stunned into mute silence, struck dumb in her terror. There was a blue box slowly materializing on the opposite side of the clearing.
That was where the roar was coming from, it sounded in time as the box faded in and faded out of existence. Iota stumbled backwards until she was next to a tree at the opposite side of the open space, ready to bolt at a second's notice and grab Viram and Tianna and run. Fear clawed its way up her throat.
The box landed with a thud. There were squiggles written around the top, and on a square white panel and a round panel on the front. The windows, the entire box seemed to glow, emanating light, and it scared her. What if the Daleks were back-? But they couldn't be, they were gone, they were gone, Tianna had said so- and the doors were opening, and she shrieked, bringing the rifle to bear, forgetting for a moment that he provided her less protection than the tree next to her.
The man in the doorway of the box froze in midstep and held up his hands, quickly saying something in a language that she didn't recognize.
Sucking in a deep breath, Iota adjusted her grip on the rifle.
The man didn't look Dalek, but the Daleks had puppets and you never knew they weren't actual people until the programming broke. He had a strap of fabric tied around his neck and a purple coat and pants that didn't quite reach his ankles, and the attire was a far cry from the red Gallifreyan robes that were so common among the population.
But the man's face seemed to shift slightly, softening into a warmer expression.
"It's okay," he murmured soothingly. He spoke Gallifreyan, and she could understand what he was saying now. "It's okay, don't shoot. My name's the Doctor, I'm a Time Lord. Like- like you."
She shifted slightly, not moving from her spot opposite him. "You're... you aren't... you're... not Dalek?"
Iota could have almost expected him to be offended, but he just shook his head. "No. No, never."
And it was most likely sheer desperation and exhaustion from hunger that caused her to drop the rifle right then and there and all but run over to him, clutching at the hem of his long coat in her hands.
"No, but please, sir-" she begged, stammering as she spoke too quickly. "Our friend- she's sick, we don't- please, sir-"
"Breathe!" The man gently removed her hands from his jacket, kneeling down in a way similar to her interactions with Viram just a few hours ago so they were eye level with one another. "Just breathe, it's okay. Can you tell me your name, child?"
"Iota," she told him rapidly. "And my friend is Tianna, and Viram is with her, and please, sir, we can't get back to the city, it's too far, it's just us-"
"Iota." The man interrupted her, but his voice never left that same, gentle tone. "Iota, I can help. Take me to them.
The Doctor had intended to land somewhere inside either Arcadia or the Citadel, preferably where his TARDIS wouldn't attract too much attention and then make his way to pay a visit to the High Command from there. He was intending to deal with Rassilon, should the occasion call for it, and intended to deal with all the other madmen that had taken the reins during the last days of the war. He intended to have to deal with the Master at some point. He wasn't really expecting that much of a warm welcome, considering the interactions he'd had with Time Lords in the past. They'd never cared much for him, he'd never cared much for them.
To be fair, he had just saved the planet, so they probably owed him a little bit of leeway, but he'd prefer to stay on their good side for now.
The Doctor hadn't intended to be held at gunpoint, and certainly not held at gunpoint by such a scrap of a girl. Of course, he never did intend to be held at gunpoint, yet he always seemed to manage one way or another...
She was tiny, looking the human equivalent of five or six, covered in soot and dirt, wide brown eyes peering out from a gaunt face.
"Don't shoot!"
And there really was a problem when that was starting to become instinct to say.
The girl just continued shaking like a leaf in the wind, and she didn't seem to understand.
A young Gallifreyan in the Time War. Most likely never seen into the Untempered Schism, almost certainly hadn't been taught anything beyond the basics of Gallifreyan phrases, and if she was out here, an orphan who had no parents to pass their knowledge down to her. Who would bother to teacher a child English in the middle of a war.
"It's okay," he said, the Gallifreyan feeling wrong on his tongue. Had he even bothered to speak his native language in this regeneration?
And as soon as the girl had been assured that he wasn't with the Daleks, she was practically on her knees, clutching at his jacket and begging him to help her. Her hands were tiny, hardly wider than two of his fingers together.
"No, but please, sir," she begged, looking up at him. "Our friend- she's sick- we don't- please, sir-"
"Breathe!" His hearts ached at the wretched sight. "Just breathe, it's okay. Can you tell me your name, child?"
"Iota." She was speaking too quickly, and he could hardly hear her. "And my friend is Tianna, and Viram is with her, and please, sir, we can't get back to the city, it's too far, it's just us-"
The shelters were some of the first things to go in the war, the first things the Daleks attacked. Millions upon millions of families were killed, and millions more children were orphaned. Crowds had flocked out of the city to forge their way in the wilderness, except when the Daleks began planetary bombardment there was really nowhere that was safe.
"Iota, Iota, I can help," he assured her. "Take me to them."
She started pulling him along by the hand, leaving the rifle forgotten in the dirt behind them. They followed a seemingly random pathway, no obvious landmarks to indicate where they were going. He hadn't thought about the state his home would be in, but he saw now. The earth was charred and black, and it took far longer than it should have to realize that they were in a forest. Or, at least, what remained of a forest – the burnt stumps and jagged pieces of wood could hardly be called trees.
"Iota, where are we?" he asked. He had an inkling in the back of his mind, especially since he could see the Citadel far off in the distance, but he didn't want to believe it.
"The Forests of Prosperity," she told him without looking back. "Or what's left of it, I guess."
Even expecting the news, he felt the need to stop and take a moment to sit down. It seemed impossible for this place to be those forests. They weren't even in a forest, there was hardly evidence of a forest ever being here to begin with, and weren't there some distant, long-forgotten memories of a family and children running every which way as they played in the woods on their property?
She kept pulling him along until they were flat-out running across a plain, stopping when they came to what he had originally thought was a crashed ship but was in face scrap metal piled and stacked together to make a temporary hut.
A boy was playing in the dirt, half the size of Iota and wearing cobbled-together rags for clothes. He looked up at them as they rushed forward, standing and toddling over and grasping Iota's other hand, staring at the Doctor with wide eyes full of amazement.
"You... live here?" the Doctor asked weakly.
Iota tugged at his hand, nodded. "Please, sir, she's inside by the fire. You have to help her."
"I'll help her, Iota," he promised, walking inside. The two hesitantly followed. "I'll help her, I promise."
The Doctor's back, but he's gotten a bit sidetracked. More familiar faces make an appearance come next chapter, so stay tuned. As always, I hope you enjoyed reading, and feedback is immensely appreciated!