I want to thank all the lovely Time Ladies from the Time Lord Registry who let me bounce ideas off them and who helped me round out this story. You guys are wonderful.

Disclaimer: In no way do I own Doctor Who or anything affiliated with it. This is purely for fun.


The Doctor rushed headlong into the TARDIS, hearing his girl hum in excitement. He could feel the air within his beloved time machine charged with energy; she seemed just as anxious as he felt. He bounded up the stairs and began to flip switches and pull levers, but she suddenly lurched to the side before he could properly set the coordinates for Florida in 1969.

"Oi!" he yelled, clutching her console for dear life. "What are you doing?" He grabbed for a lever and used it to pull himself toward the proper buttons as the TARDIS spun and tumbled through the Time Vortex like a ball rolling down a hill. The console sparked violently and he had to duck to avoid the shower, lest it singe his precious tweed jacket. The machine suddenly ground to a halt, thudding on what he assumed to be solid ground. He pulled himself to his feet and let out a loud huff of air. He pulled the moving screen toward himself, then frowned as he read the symbols.

"This is not 1969!" he declared grumpily. She did not dignify him with a response, only threw open her blue doors. He quickly scanned the environment and found that he was indeed on Earth, just in the wrong year. It was early 1942 and he was somewhere in northeastern Germany, likely near Berlin. "Perfect," he grumbled, then rushed down the TARDIS's steps, outside and right into a battalion of Nazi soldiers.

"Oh," he said softly, watching the group of men stand and arm their very not nice looking guns. "Um, hello!" He managed a decent smile and reached backward to shut the TARDIS doors. One of the men, whom the Doctor assumed was the leader of the troop by the many medals he had pinned to his uniform, stepped forward and began to speak. He had a clean shaven face, set upon a head that was rather box-shaped. His dark hair was short as was his height and he held himself in a manner that betrayed both self-importance and condescending intelligence.

"Doctor," he said in a surprisingly light German accent. "I am Friedrich Jeckeln. We have been expecting you."

"Well that's rubbish," the Time Lord replied. "How am I supposed to surprise people if they expect me?" He placed his hands on his hips in a faux angry gesture, but the man didn't buy it. "...Why were you expecting me again?"

The man raised his head a fraction in impatience. "Please, Doctor. Follow me."

The Doctor dropped his hands and looked around at the group of soldiers. They all looked very young, the oldest not past his twentieth year. There was an odd smell in the air, something that he could not place. It seemed familiar to him, yet not at the same time. He eyed their guns with distaste, but thought it wiser to keep his mouth shut for once and follow the man in charge. Not that he had a choice, of course.

As they walked, the Doctor noticed a previously hidden badge of sorts on the man's shoulder, displayed proudly on his uniform. It was a black rectangle with what looked like two white lightning bolts stitched prominently in the middle. His countenance turned dark. The man was a member of the Einsatzgruppen, the organisation that had been responsible for many of the mass murders during World War II. It confirmed his suspicion that he was indeed somewhere in Berlin, as they had a headquarters somewhere in the city. He felt like reaching out and ripping off the patch, but he thought better of it. The young boys with guns were following them as an escort of sorts and he didn't particularly feel like regenerating today.

"Jeckeln," the Doctor said conversationally, hoping that speaking to the man would take some of the edge from his persona. "You should be in Latvia right now, what are you doing here?"

Despite his stoic mask, Jeckeln turned his head to eye the Doctor suspiciously. "How would you know that?"

"I know a lot of things," he said simply. Their footsteps echoed annoyingly on the concrete floor and he wanted to yell to relieve the monotony.

Jeckeln fell silent for several moments. The Doctor was about to accept that the officer wasn't going to divulge the information, but then his deep voice reached the Doctor's ears. "I am to be awarded. The War Merit Cross." His voice was full of pride.

The Doctor's smile disappeared. "Rumbula," he said softly. Rumbula had been a two day massacre, he remembered. This man had killed 25,000 people.

He grinned, the first smile the Doctor had seen on his face. "It was glorious," he declared.

The Doctor's face grew dark like a thunder cloud. "You've lost the right to talk to me." Jeckeln did not seem intimidated, but fell silent all the same.

Jeckeln led the Doctor through hallway after twisting hallway. The Time Lord made a point to remember any and all defining characteristics of this dull, concrete-laden place. Every hallway and door looked the same with few exceptions. He almost yawned when Jeckeln stopped in front of a large metal door that did not look like it belonged anywhere near 1942. The Doctor reached out to touch the metal, then brought the finger to his mouth. "51st century... Where did you-"

The door suddenly shuddered and slid away with surprising speed, considering its size and how heavy it must weigh. Beyond, there was a control room that definitely did not belong here. It flashed and beeped, recording and re-recording anything and everything that went on in the facility. "More 51st century! Did you lot decide to go time shopping?"

Jeckeln sent the Time Lord an irritated glance, then led him into the room. The wall to their left was covered in surveillance screens, thoroughly surveying the compound. The wall in front of them was bare, but it seemed to be the platform for a holo screen. The room was dimly lit with just a single light in the ceiling, accompanied by the light from the screens and control panels.

The only other person in the room was a woman, sitting far to the right in a desk that seemed out of place in the technologically advanced control center. As soon as the Doctor saw her, he bristled and his face contorted in rage. Ignoring the soldiers, Jeckeln, and the surprise he should be feeling, he marched up to the desk with a fire in his eyes that could burn the brightest galaxies. He slammed his hands down on the wooden object, leaning dangerously close to the woman who hadn't moved an inch. "Where is she?"

Madame Kovarian, who had been scribbling down a bit of information on a piece of paper, nonchalantly raised her head, staring down the Time Lord with one, beady eye. "Where is who, Doctor?"

The Doctor drew himself up to his full height, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. "You know very well who." He quickly scanned her, in case she decided to pull something else on him. "You aren't flesh," he said, surprised. He put the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket before someone decided it was prudent to take it away from him.

"Why should I be?" She set the pencil on the table and folded her hands like a patient teacher with a frustrating student. The soldiers behind the Doctor were standing at the ready, waiting from any sort of signal from Madame Kovarian.

He shrugged. "Once a coward, always a coward."

She bristled. He smiled.

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you, Doctor." Kovarian stood from her chair and slowly walked to her right, toward the giant console full of buttons and levers. It was far less interesting and fashionable than his TARDIS, the Doctor thought. He watched her carefully, eyes locked on her form as she walked. "You have much more to worry about than the child."

"Her name is Melody," he replied icily.

Kovarian pressed a red button and the holo screen brought to life a scene of a white room. A woman that the Doctor had never seen before was sitting in a wooden rocking chair, gently rocking a bundle in her arms. The only other object in the room was a plain, wooden crib. The walls were completely unadorned with no windows and only a small light in the ceiling. "She is being taken care of."

"Being taken care of without love isn't care at all." His eyes narrowed at her. She seemed completely unconcerned by his words. He was happy that Melody did not seem much older than when he had lost her at Demon's Run, but she really was not getting the loving care that she needed.

"As I've said, you have much more to worry about, Doctor." She reached over to yet another button and the picture of baby Melody disappeared. It was quickly replaced by another image.

The Doctor's throat went dry. The screen presented him with a dozen Nazi soldiers and their captain, marching down the snowy streets of Chiswick in Amy's time. He recognised the street and the houses that seemed to leer down at the men and their weapons. The street was deserted except for the soldiers and he watched the screen in horror as they approached the one house he did not think he would ever see again.

The soldiers kicked down the door and burst into the house. He could not hear anything, but he could imagine what was happening. After almost exactly a minute, two of the soldiers returned to view, dragging with them a kicking, screaming ginger, followed by a dark-skinned man who was doing quite a bit of yelling himself.

The Doctor stared in shock and sorrow, letting the woman's name fall from his lips like a long forgotten dream.

"Donna."


Fact: Friedrich Jeckeln was a real officer in the Einsatzgruppen. He was captured by the Soviet Union's Red Army at the conclusion of World War II. Jeckeln was found guilty during a military court proceeding and was hung on February 3rd, 1946 in Riga, Latvia.

Jeckeln: http : /en . Wikipedia . org/wiki/Friedrich_Jeckeln

Rumbula: http : /en . Wikipedia . org/wiki/Rumbula_massacre