A/N: And (yay) another update. Quite possibly the last one for a very long while - I'm going to China in a week, for a month (which will give me a lot of writing opportunity - so it'll probably all be on paper by the time i get back (oh joy - i love typing things up...)). But anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

The Doctor knew that the darkness was their only protection, and that they were practically invisible in the pitch black of night. But it would only take a matter of minutes before the Daleks realised what had happened, and continued their way to Arcadia.

Thankfully though, the soldiers understood their current advantage, and were making as little sound as possible. Maybe, the Doctor thought, just maybe, they would survive this deadly race.

He put on a burst of speed to overtake those jogging in front, until he caught up with Voraynil.

"The TARDIS-fields. Go through the TARDIS-fields," he panted. "It's the quickest way."

Voraynil nodded; not wanting to waste energy on words.

The Doctor pointed somewhere slightly left of where they were running. "They're over the hill. Lead them." He jerked his head back to the soldiers following, before slowing down to bring up the rear once again.

They soon reached the hill, and, much to the horror of the group, began to hastily scramble up it. They were nearing Arcadia though – it was only a short journey after the hill through the fields. Five minutes at most.

The Doctor almost ran into the back of the soldier in front. The group had come to a complete stop.

What the hell?

They'd just got to the top of the hill – they couldn't stop now!

"We can't rest here. We need to keep moving," he said. But no one was listening. Their gazes were fixed in front of them – a look of shock on all their faces.

What was going on?

He pushed through the crowd; shoving them all out of the way to see what they were looking at. They all moved out of his way, unresisting, until…

Oh.

He was standing at the top of the hill, surveying the scene below him.

The TARDIS-fields had been destroyed.

They'd been set alight, but the fire had long-since died – along with all the TARDIS seedlings.

His eyes brimmed with tears.

"No," he whispered. "Please no…"

So much love had gone into their creation… And it had all been destroyed.

But none of them got a chance to mourn the loss, before a blinding white flash lit the area.

The Doctor immediately realised what had happened – the Daleks had used some sort of flare… And now they were all in plain sight.

"Life-forms detected!" the Dalek's screech came echoing over the grass. "Destroy them all!"

"We need to go. Now!" the Doctor yelled to the unresponsive soldiers – their eyes still locked on the dead remains of the young TARDISes.

"Move!" he screamed, shoving the soldiers nearest to him down the hill.

They snapped to their senses and began racing down, silent, save for heavy breathing – words were not enough to express their anguish.

The light of the flare was fading now, but the damage had been done – the Daleks were coming.

They hurtled through the fields, clambering over blackened wood, and leaping over charred plant life. The Doctor felts his heart crack at the death that surrounded him, and knew that he would make the Daleks pay for this.

The lights of Arcadia that had seemed so distant before, were getting closer and closed… And yet so were the Daleks – it was only a matter of time before they began firing. And the Doctor knew that if that began, there was no hope for this small group of survivors.

If they could just get to the outer wall…

"Exterminate!" there was a cry behind him, and a short of green light flashed, before it hit a soldier in front. He went down with barely a moan.

"RUN!" the Doctor roared; but the men needed no encouragement.

Before the body had even hit the floor, they were all hurtling full pelt towards the city gates. They were barely a minute away. Maybe they could do this…

Then a thought struck the Doctor. The gates would be closed – locked against the invading Daleks. What if there were no guards there to let them in? They were doomed.

The Doctor rid the thought from his mind – he just wanted to concentrate on getting there.

"Almost there," he panted to whoever could hear him.

By this time, the Daleks were letting loose a whole barrage of deadly beams, and over half were hitting their targets.

"C'mon," the Doctor's muscles screamed as he sped up.

The Daleks were almost upon them.

YES! They were there! His fingers ran over the rough stone; almost caressing it.

"The guards," he gasped – too exhausted to explain.

He heard Voraynil beside him, shouting up, "Open the gates!" his voices desperate as he screamed the words over and over again.

And all the while, the Daleks were getting nearer and nearer. And more bodies were falling, lifeless, to the ground.

There was no reply. The Doctor almost collapsed against the wall in despair. It was over. They were all going to die…

There was a scream of pain as a beam hit the person on his left. Their body collapsed against the Doctor's side; the head tilting so the Doctor could see who it was.

The young girl he'd met earlier – the one who'd organised the building of the barricade.

He hadn't even known her name.

She was too young to die…

Suddenly, there was a groaning sound as the rock beneath his palms began to rumble…

The gate was opening!

Agonisingly slow, the rock began to slide, and, as soon as the gap was wide enough, the soldier began squeezing through in a frenzy.

And meanwhile the air was thick with blasts from weapons of both sides.

"Go, Go, Go!" the Doctor shoved the soldiers through the gap; determined to be the last man through, and not leave anyone behind.

"Voraynil. Quick!" He yelled.

Voraynil gave one last burst of fire from his weapon, before slipping through.

Just before the Doctor slid through, the turned to give the Dalek army one last glance. Quite by coincidence, his eyes sought out that same red Dalek. He ducked his head back just in time to avoid its lethal beam.

"Close the gate!" he bellowed skywards, and a moment later, they began to grind back into place.

The Doctor fell back against the wall; the cool rock soothing his skin as he gasped for breath and as his hearts began to slow down to their normal pace.

"Doctor?" an official-looking pale-skinned humanoid appeared in front.

He lifted his head wearily as the newcomer continued.

"Orders from the top – you must meet the president immediately."

"Romana!" he gasped with relief. "She's alive?!"

The official inclined his head. "Please – we must leave now."

"And what of my men?" the Doctor's gaze swept over the small group of exhausted soldiers – the only survivors of their encounter.

"They will be escorted to the barracks where the rest of the troops are. There they will rest wash and feed until more orders are received."

"Very well. Lead the way."

And so the Doctor was taken to meet the generals that survived.

As they twisted and turned through the winding streets, the Doctor was overcome by a strong sense of nostalgia. This was where he'd been born; where he'd been raised. Why, it was just down that street where he'd spent most of his childhood.

"Excuse me?"

The official stopped and turned; raising a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, but there's just something I need to do. Just quickly. Please…"

"But the President insisted…"

"I'll barely be five minutes… I won't tell if you don't."

The official gave a resigned sight and nodded.

"Thanks," he beamed. "Wait here." And with that, he bounded down a side-street.

Barely ten seconds later, he found it.

His house.

He stood outside the front door, running his fingers up and down the wood.

So many memories…

So much happiness; sadness; anger; fear; excitement; love; hate.

He was so old now. He'd lived through so much – nine hundred years of pain; of joy; of tears; of laughter. And this was where it had all begun.

Of course, another family would've moved in since those naïve days. His father had long-since died, and he'd never been allowed to see his mother – much to his father's anguish. It all boiled down to the simple fact that she'd been human – and the high council disapproved of any Gallifreyan relationship with humans.

But his father had shown him a picture of her. And when he'd been sad as a small boy, the Doctor would take the picture and curl up on his bed; his body wrapped tightly around its frame as his tears soaked the pillow. He could just about imagine her there by his shoulder, smiling that beautiful smile of hers and telling him everything would always be alright.

He pushed open the door…

It gave a small groan as it swung open; the moonlight from above lighting its interior.

The house was deserted – the family had probably been evacuated long before. They were one of the lucky ones, the Doctor knew – not all of Arcadia had been able to be flown to safety – there just hadn't been enough time.

The Doctor moved cautiously across the floor – all too aware that this was someone else's house now.

But… he just wanted to see it… See the room from his childhood.

He made his way to a door in the corner. Be brushed his fingers against the handle – remembering – before slowly twisting the handle and pushing it open.

His room…

It hadn't changed much – of course, all his furniture was no longer there. But it hadn't been replaced either – this family obviously had no need for this room. The Doctor felt both sad and oddly pleased about that for reasons he couldn't quite fathom.

He crept over to the back wall, wondering if it was still there…

And there it was – he could just make it out through the gloomy light.

Small shaky Gallifreyan words.

He traced the jerky circles, and his memories overtook him.

There he was; a tiny boy with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. Alone in the house.

Flash!

A knock at the door; and his small ears perk up as a smile lights up his face – his father is home. His daddy!

Flash!

He opens the door… Not his Daddy.

Two men. Sombre.

No smiles.

Flash!

"I'm sorry…"

"There was an accident…"

The words echo around the small boy's head, barely making sense.

Daddy's gone. Daddy's gone forever.

Flash!

"You need to come with us."

A kind hand on his shoulder.

Tears and screams and bites and kicks and refusal.

Flash!

The men have gone. Now there's a nice woman cooking something for him.

"Just one night little one – then you must leave."

One more night at his home.

Flash!

The boy is numb – but that doesn't stop the steady flow of salty tears.

He is alone now. Forever.

"You are not my Mummy."

And he slams his door shut.

Flash!

He lies on his bed, too exhausted to do anything but cry.

Can you be too tired to breathe?

He rolls onto his side.

He wants to remember this day forever – the day he didn't belong to anyone anymore.

Flash!

He takes his Daddy's special knife – the one he'd given to him on his birthday – and begins to etch into the stone of his wall.

He carves a simple message into the stone, and into his mind; his shaky nine-year-old hand making the symbols almost illegible.

But he doesn't need to read them to know what they say:

"I love you Mummy and Daddy."

And he drops the knife to the floor, curling up on his side.

He doesn't get any sleep that night…

The Doctor jerked back into reality, realising the tears pouring down his cheeks. He roughly brushed them away, taking a deep shuddering breath to calm himself.

"Enough," he breathed before hurrying from his room and out the house.

The cool night air soothed him somewhat, but the image of his child-self writing into the eternal stone, tears silently streaming down his face, never left his mind.

He slowly made his way back through the small twisting streets and alleys until he found his guide once more.

"Thank you," the Doctor said softly before giving a false smile. "Shall we continue?"

A quick nod of the head and they were off again.

A/N: Like I said - I love reviews :D