In 2011, the girl named Atlanta stumbled over her own feet walking the short distance to her house. The late August night's air was bitterly cold, but Atlanta hadn't remembered to retrieve her no doubt bloodstained jacket from the community centre, and she refused to go back. Not to that place of death. Never again.
Atlanta quietly let herself into her home. There was no one to tell about her being home. Her parents were long gone. Her sister, Natalie... even her old male cat had abandoned her, deciding that he might as well fend for himself in the suburban area. Atlanta hadn't minded at the time, so much...
But now she'd lost Natalie, her sweet, good-tempered sixteen-year-old little sister...
Even more quietly, Atlanta walked towards the kitchen, not bothering to turn on any lights even though it neared ten at night. Her breathing became ragged as she opened a rather dirty drawer. She located a reasonably sharp knife, and gripped in her left hand. Why suffer any more? She would die, as her friends had died. Better to die of her own accord than at the hands of idiotic American soldiers.
As soon as she had made this decision, Atlanta dropped the knife. Its loud clatter on the floor changed Atlanta's mind completely. There was nothing better about giving up!
Atlanta trembled as she collected the knife and placed it gently back in the drawer. Closing the drawer, Atlanta wondered what she could do. Everyone was dead. Natalie. Aaron. Everyone she'd ever known. Seemingly, everyone she hadn't ever known. Cunning move of those disgusting Americans. She was driving herself insane.
Atlanta dragged herself outside into the freezing cold air through the back door. She fell in a heap pathetically on the grass. It was wet from the rain throughout the day, and the mist that currently enveloped the city.
Atlanta couldn't be bothered to get up. Staring dazedly at the stars above her head, she wondered if she would, perhaps, freeze to death. In a sickening fashion, it was a comforting thought, one which carried Atlanta right off to sleep.
As it grew near to six in the morning, an unknowing Atlanta grew colder and colder. Contrary to what her shocked, depressed state the night before had suggested, Atlanta hadn't really intended to kill herself, but it was a goal she was close to achieving as the temperatures plummeted towards 0 degrees.
Luckily for her, a loud whirring noise stirred her. Atlanta blinked and tried to get her eyes into focus. When she did, she found herself staring into the eyes of a stranger. A certain curly-haired, scarf-wearing, seven-hundred-and-fifty-seven-year-old stranger (though Atlanta wasn't aware of the last part yet).
"Who are you?" she demanded accusingly. "Are you here to take me away?"
"I'm called the Doctor," the Doctor grinned, "and as a Doctor, I was wondering what you were doing lying in the grass, nearly in the dark, at such cold temperatures."
"You're English," Atlanta blurted out, before she could stop herself. "What are you doing in Australia?"
The Doctor was quite indignant. "Following your orders, as a matter of fact!" he told her.
"My orders?" Atlanta asked. "I... I've never seen you before."
The Doctor grinned. He much preferred it this way than when Atlanta had been the one with the knowledge of him. "I've seen you, you know," the Doctor told her.
"Probably," Atlanta waved a hand. "I have the unfortunate habit of turning up wherever I'm in danger of being arrested."
"Me too!" the Doctor grinned.
Atlanta pulled a bemused face. "My name's Atlanta, by the way," she told him.
"I know," the Doctor told her.
"You can't know," Atlanta protested, "I hadn't told you yet."
"I can travel through Time," the Doctor told her. "I bumped into your future self in... uh, the 2090s. I think."
Atlanta stared at him in disbelief. "Do I really live past my hundredth birthday?" she asked curiously. The Doctor grinned.
"I don't know," he confessed, "and even if I did, I shouldn't tell you."
"I doubt I'll live that long," Atlanta told him. "I barely lived past last night."
"I know," the Doctor grinned.
"I don't see what you're grinning about," Atlanta told him grumpily. "Everyone I know died. My friends. My sister. Aaron."
The Doctor nodded knowingly. "I've seen death as well," he told her. "I can never really get past the feeling that somehow, I failed. Except, of course, when the evil genius who's usually spent the whole trip trying to kill me dies."
Atlanta tensed up. "You speak lightly of death!" she screamed at him, reminding the Doctor horribly of Leela. Why had he been so reminded of Leela recently? He hadn't thought about her much since leaving her on Gallifrey six years ago.
The Doctor's musings were interrupted by Atlanta. "If you saw what happened, you wouldn't speak lightly," she told him.
"Maybe not," the Doctor agreed. "But how are you?"
"Fine," Atlanta waved him away irritably. "I wish I wasn't. I wouldn't feel so guilty, then."
"You can't single-handedly stop a massacre, Atlanta."
"I could try," Atlanta replied fiercely.
"You'd just have been gunned down as well. No point in needless death – that's why it's needless, you see?"
Atlanta bounded up fiercely. "My sister has died!" she screamed.
"Yes, I know. You told me already," the Doctor pointed out, a remark to which he earned a slap. The Doctor rubbed the side of his jaw crossly. "You just slapped my face," he told her icily.
"I know that!" Atlanta yelled. "Well, why are you here, anyway?" Glancing around the backyard, Atlanta noticed a large 1950s-style blue police box near her old Dad's shed. "And how did that get there?" she added, asking no one in particular.
"I brought it," the Doctor grinned.
"I don't even know who you are!" Atlanta snapped icily.
"Now, really. I know your sister died last night, but that's no excuse to be rude."
"Well, what is it?" Atlanta asked.
"It's a TARDIS," the Doctor explained unhelpfully. Luckily for Atlanta, the Doctor continued with some information that was a bit more useful. "It's my preferred mode of transport. Takes me anywhere in the Universe I'd like." The Doctor coughed. "Well, most of the time. And it can travel in Time, as well."
Atlanta made a face. "It's a blue shed, Doctor."
The Doctor pulled a face in return. "That's my TARDIS you're talking about!"
"I'm aware of that. And it's a blue shed."
"No it isn't!" the Doctor insisted rather protectively. "I'll show you." He opened the TARDIS door for Atlanta. Looking inside suspiciously, she confirmed with disappointment that the Doctor was right. Not so disappointingly, though, Atlanta saw a robot dog. K-9, in fact.
"Hello, doggy," Atlanta grinned at the metallic dog with K-9 printed on its side. Forgetting that she was supposed to be mad at the Doctor, she stepped into the TARDIS.
"Greetings, Young Mistress," K-9 told her, which took Atlanta by surprise.
"No no no," Atlanta corrected him hastily, "my name's Atlanta."
"Correct, Young Mistress."
Atlanta sighed. "So what's your name, eh?"
"I am K-9, mark two."
Glancing at the letters "K-9" printed boldly on K-9's side, Atlanta commented, "how original."
"I do not understand, Young Mistress."
"Now now now," the Doctor attempted to wheel Atlanta out of the TARDIS. "That's quite enough excitement for one day."
"But – I -" Atlanta protests were not obeyed as she was basically pushed out of the TARDIS, the Doctor following. "Fine," Atlanta sulked. "I believe that's a silly spaceship now. But why are you here?"
"I told you. Obeying your orders."
Atlanta sighed. "All right," she agreed. "What were my orders?"
"To defeat the Americans," the Doctor told her simply. To his surprise, Atlanta laughed.
"You, on your own?" she snickered.
"Not on my own!" the Doctor insisted irritably. "I have K-9. And I rather hoped I'd have you, too."
"What, join in on a suicide mission with a strange man with a spaceship and his robot dog?"
"Yes."
Atlanta grinned. "All right. Beats sitting around all day."
