Author's Note: YAY, another chapter! UGH, original characters... I know. I hate reading them too. They are a little bit hard to avoid in a fandom like Doctor Who though, so do bear with me. I hope everything works here. I did my best to keep things clear, and if it's not explained here it's likely explained later. But if you feel I've missed anything, do let me know. Also the Jack in this story is not Captain Jack. Sorry. Alrighty, enjoy the latest update!

Chapter 2- Whiteout

He was cold, so very cold. He wasn't sure if he had ever known cold like this before. All around him the world was white and the wind whipped at his skin like an icy lash. In no way was he dressed for this kind of weather, the grubby little track suit providing little protection. How was he supposed to know it was going to be this bloody freezing?

He couldn't remember much; who he was or where he was or how he had gotten there was a complete mystery to him. His head felt... fuzzy, and the cold was doing nothing to help his mental processes. The last thing he could remember was... being frantic and in a lot of pain. That wasn't good. There was something he needed to do though, something very important. If only he could remember what...

That wind was wicked. Another gust nearly blew him over, and he was shivering quite violently now. He found himself on his hands and knees, the wet snow soaking his legs through his sweatpants and freezing his bare hands. The world began to spin about, faster and faster and making him feel nauseous. Seeking shelter didn't occur to him, but he really hoped he wouldn't pass out.

"Good Lord!"

A new voice, distant and female, called out, her words swirling about in the violent wind. He could feel a pair of small hands grab him around the shoulders and lift him off the ground. His arm was now draped over a narrow set of shoulders and he was being supported, quite awkwardly, by a figure who was a fair bit shorter than he was.

"Come on, come on," the voice urged, still sounding oddly distant. "Move quickly now. We have to get you inside. Just stay awake please, I don't think I could support your dead weight. Keep going, keep moving..."

The girl chattered away, perhaps hoping that if she kept talking he would hold consciousness. Instead he tuned her out, focusing all of his attention on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to get to wherever she was taking him. Before he knew it, he found himself in front of a door. The girl shifted his weight a bit, fiddling with the doorknob, and at last the door swung open. The warmth hit him head on, washing over his freezing body and providing a more than welcome relief.

Finally, he forfeited his losing battle for consciousness and allowed himself to pass out just past the threshold.

"I can't do it."

Two figures stood outside the Lord President's chamber, frantically urging the other to knock.

"Look, I won, you lost, fair and square. We don't have a lot of time left, just do it."

They were the same two young Time Lords who had been escorting the Master to the Infinity Chamber, and they had some very bad news for Rassilon. Neither of them wanted to deliver it, because they knew what happened to the unfortunate souls who made the President unhappy. No, they didn't want to have to face that, thank you very much, even if they were going to die very soon anyway.

"I just... I can't, OK? Please can you do it? Please? He always liked you better than me."

It wasn't fair. How had they gotten themselves into this again? When the War had begun, they were both very near graduation from the Academy. They could remember the recruitment drive, promising them eternal glory if they signed up to help the Time Lord cause. It was such a romantic notion in those days – defeating the Daleks and saving the universe would earn you a prestigious place in History amongst great men. That what when they had expected to win. Nobody had expected it to turn out like this. The only reason these boys had made it to the end of the War was because they were helping the Council and not out fighting on the front lines. It hurt to think of their classmates who had been selected for that unforgiving job.

"Oh please, he never liked me. Look, it won't be that bad. I mean, it wasn't our fault... was it?"

The details of the Master's escape were unclear, but they had woken up and he was gone.

Perhaps they would have been better off on the front lines after all. At least then they wouldn't have to deal with Rassilon's wrath.

The Time Lords were not a particularly emotional people. They were observers and thinkers and protectors, but they were always rational. Some went so far as to call them cold. The Time War was bringing out the worst in all of them and, try as they might, even the most stoic of the Time Lords were being torn apart by the War. Families destroyed, legacies incinerated and friendships annihilated in the wake of the battles raging all around. Today it was all going to end.

Today Gallifrey would burn.

"It might interest you to know," came the voice of the President, "that I can hear every word that you are saying."

The boys looked at each other, dumbstruck. They had started out speaking in hushed tones, but the must have raised their voices as they went. Either that or the Lord President had supersonic hearing, which they wouldn't have put past him.

"What are you waiting for?" Rassilon demanded. "Enter."

Shaking a little, the two entered. The chamber was dark and dominated by a large, ornate desk, behind which sat the Lord President. He wore the traditional Presidential robes and was perched upon his throne, looking as though he was preparing for something.

"What is it you want?"

One of the boys pushed the other one forward, who gulped. "Well-" he choked, throat dry. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he tried again. "Sir, we're so, so sorry but – and I promise you, it wasn't our fault – but the prisoner has escaped. The Master is gone. We can't find him anywhere." Immediately he cowered, preparing for the worst.

What he was greeted with instead was a wry smile and dark laughter. "Excellent."

"I'm s-sorry, sir?"

"You may leave," Rassilon commanded. "Go on then, make yourselves comfortable and prepare for the end. This world is not much longer for the universe, and I have some preparations to make. Be gone!"

The two young Time Lords obliged. They were baffled by the President's reaction, but they decided it was best not to question it. Who were they to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Meanwhile Rassilon sat at his desk, a sick sort of glee rising inside him. The Master had escaped the Infinity Chamber, but he would be facing far worse at the Lord President's hand. He hoped that this would happen, predictable as the Master was. Rassilon was going to escape the Time War, run the universe on his terms, and make the Doctor suffer for all he had done to destroy everything he had worked for. Having the Master there as well would be the perfect bonus.

Plan A, the Ultimate Sanction, had failed, but Plan B would not. He would unlock the Time Lock in a moment and take his place in the universe; then everything would fall neatly into place. The Master would find the Doctor and then they would both be in the same place, his pawns behaving exactly as they were meant to. Of course they wouldn't make it too easy for him, sure to find a way to fight back as they had so many times before. The Master and the Doctor working together would give them a fighting chance, which made things so much more exciting for Rassilon.

The final true Time Lord would take his rightful place at the top of the universe.

Leah was pacing about her living room, gnawing on her fingertips since she had successfully reduced her nails to jagged little stubs. OK, so there was a strange man lying on her couch, unconscious, and she was home alone with no idea what to do with him. He had been out cold for at least twenty minutes now, and she had only just phoned up Jack to come over and figure out what to do. He was the only person she could think of to call. Mom was at work so she wouldn't do, and she always did have something to say about the boys Leah brought home. This one was about twice her age, and Mom would start lecturing before Leah even had the chance to explain why he was there.

The man hadn't moved a muscle since he collapsed in her doorway. With great difficulty, Leah had dragged him to a couch in the front room and piled blanket after blanket on him. It was about ten minutes before she had even thought to check his pulse. Sure enough he was alive, but his pulse was slow and weak.

Leah herself was in a little bit of shock. She had no idea who this man was or where he had come from. He certainly wasn't from around here; anyone familiar with Alberta winters would never dare venture outside dressed like that. Maybe there was someone they could contact to take him off her hands, but with no identification she didn't know where to start. He didn't seem like he had been outside very long, so where had he come from, and how had he managed to get as far as he did dressed like that?

She almost jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. Right, she had almost forgotten that Jack was coming over. She couldn't help but wonder why he even rang the doorbell anymore. He had a spare key and even if he didn't, Lakewood Hollow was one of those towns small enough that most people didn't lock the door that often, especially when they were expecting company.

Jack was an interesting sort of fellow. He lived just down the block from Leah and the two had grown up together. They were practically brother and sister. Jack was fairly good-looking – tall and lanky with dark hair and brown eyes – and he could have any girl he wanted if it weren't for his strange obsessions. Even Leah thought they were embarrassing.

Actually, she thought he was a nutjob.

Jack was an avid follower of and firm believer in conspiracy theories. Many things – Sasquatch and the Yeti for instance – he admitted were complete hoaxes, but there were other urban legends that he insisted were real. The world had seen aliens, or at least the United Kingdom had, and Jack believed that the universe was hiding so much more from the human race than they could possibly imagine. He also spoke of a strange fellow, some sort of physician, who kept their planet safe and travelled about the universe in a little blue box.

Yeah, he was definitely crazy. Any time he brought up the subject, Leah rolled her eyes and told him so. He just rolled his eyes back and called her narrow-minded and dull. They had these arguments a lot, and most of the town wondered why the hell they didn't just shut up and kiss already.

"Oh thank God you're here," said Leah. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. He hasn't moved for twenty minutes, is that a long time? Should I call an ambulance?"

"Calm down, Leah," Jack said gently. "Where did you find him?"

"Just outside my house," she replied. "He wasn't dressed very warmly, it's a wonder he didn't freeze to death. I donno, I thought he might have been drunk or something. I know it's only noon on a Wednesday, but let's face it, in a small town right before Christmas that's not so strange. Actually, that's pretty normal any time of the year..."

"Wow, he stinks. Where do you suppose he came from?"

"He looks like one of the bums from the city," Leah mused. "Most city folk don't come 'round here though, not unless they've got family out here. He would've had to walk if he really was a hobo, and he would've frozen to death on the side of the road."

"OK, well, you're doing fine," Jack assured her. "Just relax, we'll figure this out. I'll go make us some coffee and then we can decide what do with him."

"Alright."

Jack wandered off into the kitchen and Leah returned her fingers to her mouth. She felt like an idiot. When things went wrong, she was utterly useless. It was a wonder she had done this well. Even getting him to the couch had proven to be something of an achievement. Should she have called an ambulance or sought medical help? Did he have hypothermia? How did you treat hypothermia? Was he insane? How did you treat insanity?

From the couch, the strange man stirred and Leah's eyes widened. She rushed forwards and crouched down near his head while he turned to face her. Leah hadn't really had the chance to get a good look at him before but she couldn't help but notice, now that they were face to face, that he was really quite good-looking. At least, he was handsome in sort of an old guy kind of way. At first glance the man was scruffy, his features obscured by a few days of beard growth, but she imagined he was the kind of man who dressed sharply and looked good in a suit.

Her train of thought was derailed by a soft moan from the man, which was all well and good because she was starting to wonder if she was really that desperate.

"Wh- where am I?" Leah could barely make out the words through his weak voice and his British accent. "What happened?"

"Shh, try not to talk," said Leah, fingertips gently brushing his cheek. "You were outside in the cold. You should rest. Jack's got a pot of coffee on, and we'll get you back to normal in no time."

A scowl creased the man's forehead and he blinked a few times in confusion. "Cold?" he paused and looked around, thinking for a moment and trying to remember something. "I need to..." He bolted upright, eyes wide. "Ooh, head rush... Hold on!" he exclaimed, his voice now strong and steady. "What day is it? Where are we?"

Leah spoke slowly in an effort to jog his memory. "You're safe now, don't worry. You're in Lakewood Hollow in Alberta, Canada. The date's December 23, 2009. Not the right time of year to go out dressed like that, it's nearly minus thirty! Do you know what you were doing out there?"

"Canada?" he repeated. "Earth... December 23? But that means..." He trailed off, trying to remember something again, searching for something. Suddenly, he locked eyes with Leah, looking frantic. "We need to get to London!"

Leah shook her head. "No. You need to rest"

The man grabbed her shoulders. "You don't understand. I need to be in London by Christmas Day. I..." He paused, chewing his lip as he drifted off into thought again. "Look, I don't know why, I just know that I have to be in London. We need to catch a flight right now."

"OK, calm down and slow up a little," said Leah, prying his hands off her shoulders. "We'll figure something out but you need to talk to us first and explain what's going on before we do anything."

The man let out a sigh as he slumped back against the couch, a vacant expression glazing over his face. Jack walked into the living room, carrying a tray containing cream, sugar and three cups of coffee. Leah thought she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes for just a brief moment, but he shook it off and carry on.

"Right then. Good! He's awake." Jack pulled up a stool next to where Leah was crouched and placed his tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. "So. First thing's first. How do you like your coffee?"

The man's eyes flicked toward the steaming mug. "Black. Black is fine." He took the mug, nodding in thanks, and just held it, not taking a sip.

"Next order of business would be introductions. I'm Jack, this is Leah, and you are?"

The man stared at the coffee a while as though the answer to that question was hiding in the rich brown liquid. "Harold," he finally answered. "Harold Saxon."

Leah, who still thought Tony Blair was the British Prime Minister, didn't bat an eye at the name.

Jack, who was a little bit more worldly than his sheltered compatriot, stiffened.

"Ah, that's wonderful. Do you go by Harry, or would you prefer Mr. Saxon?" asked Leah, blissfully unaware of Jack's tension. "Or is just Harold fine? I donno, I'm eighteen now, so I'm technically an adult, but when do you reach the point where you get to call other adults by their first names? I'm so used to saying Mr. or Mrs. whoever. It all seems a bit vague if you ask me."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Saxon, it really is-" said Jack before he was cut off.

"Harry's fine," the man said absently.

"Yes, right, lovely to meet you Harry. If you'll just excuse us a moment. Leah?" Jack grasped her wrist. "Can I talk to you in the kitchen a moment?"

"Jack, we really shouldn't leave him-"

"Now. It's kind of important."

Leah rolled her eyes and set down her coffee (four sugars, three creams). "Be back in a mo'" she assured her guest, and followed reluctantly behind as Jack steered her into the kitchen. "What?" she snapped impatiently as they arrived at their destination.

"Leah, that guy in the living room? He used to be the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom."