A/N: Hihi! Thanks so much for sticking with this fic, and double thanks to Dreamcatcher49, Imitierte Identitat and ffreviewer for taking the time to write such nice things, and more than once too! It's so encouraging and so kind of you! Here's Chapter 4, I hope it's okay and that you enjoy it! Sorry about the overuse of exclamation marks but I just finished my exams and am in a supergood mood. Before I forget, there's one kinda bad word –it's not one of the bad four letter ones, but it's not very nice either, so if it offends you, sorry! Oh, and before I forget again, I don't own Doctor Who so please don't sue me. Finally (I'm honestly stopping now) if the rating needs to go up tell me, cause it's pretty dark, but no one is sleeping together or getting graphically tortured, so…
The low building, Rose quickly discovered, was a train station. As they waited for it to arrive, the villagers were packed into a tiny cell overlooking the railroad tracks. Really, Rose mused, this was getting ridiculous. With all this open land you would think they could make these cells a bit roomier. And the smell! It was enough to make her gag. Mind you, at least it was dry, and relatively free of infestation. In the Rose Tyler Book of Prisons, it got a four. Maybe a five. Her thoughts were cut short by the clacking of boots against concrete, which heralded the return of the officer and his men.
"By order of great Comrade Stalin," he said in a bored tone. "You are all to be deported to Siberia, where you will work without trial until we believe that your Trotskyist tendencies have been dissolved and you once again fully support the great Communist Revolution. A train will come shortly to collect you and transport you to the labour camp. That is all." Rose stared at him in disbelief. As he turned to walk away, a young woman pressed up against the bars reached out and desperately grabbed his ankle. Her blond hair stuck wildly about her face, and her brown eyes were wide and terrified.
"No! Please!" she begged. "I'm not a Trotskyist, never was, I swear it. I just want to go home. I have three children." She gestured desperately behind her. "Please!" The man regarded her coolly, then shook her off his ankle and began to stroll away. "No! No, please!" the woman shrieked, her voice rising to hysteria. Get back here! You bastard!" The officer stopped. He slowly turned around, and crouched down in front of the bars, grasping the woman's chin and looking her straight in the eyes.
"And you," he said too calmly. "Are a liar. You are a Trotskyist scum and a liar. And you know what we do with liars." Very deliberately, he reached his hands into his belt and withdrew a pistol. The woman's eyes widened.
"No," she whimpered. "God, don't. Please." The man's lips curled as he rested the gun to her head. Rose squeezed her eyes shut. There was a bang, and a wrenching scream. Then silence. The guard stood up, swinging the pistol around his finger.
"Anyone else innocent?" he asked.
Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor swung round the control panel, manically flipping levers and depressing buttons.
"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath. A bell and a flashing light confirmed that the TARDIS had locked on the Rose's key. "Yes!" he shouted, grabbing onto one of the coral struts as the TARDIS began to dematerialise. Hold on Rose, he thought. Just one minute more.
Rose started as the train pulled into the station. When the cell door slid open and the villagers began to walk out, she began to panic. The station was not far from the key, but if she got on the train, she would vanish into the Russian wilderness. The Doctor would not know where she had gone. He might never find her. Rose tried to fight against the crowd, but a guard saw her and levelled his rifle at her. She had no choice but to shuffle along, following the other women to the front of the train. The men were led towards the back. She filed into the wooden carriage, tucking herself into a corner and sliding down against the wall. She was dimly aware of the sound of hammering, as the door to the compartment was sealed. Rose let out a dry sob. Suddenly, hands grabbed her jacket and pulled her to her feet, shoving her hard against the wall. Rose found herself staring into the furious eyes of Alyona.
"What the hell are you crying about?" she hissed. "It's your fault we're here. If you had kept your ugly hands to yourself, I'd be dead and they'd be safe." Despite herself, Rose felt anger bubble up in the pit of her stomach.
"I wasn't the one making stupid comments." Alyona's eyes narrowed. Drawing her hand back, she slapped Rose hard against the cheek. She tightened her grip on the jacket.
"I have fought every day to feed my family. I have dug in the snow for hours to find enough food to pay for our house. And you! You just waltz in here with your fancy shoes and thick head, and expect us to follow your childish rules! You dare blame me for this." She drew her hand back again.
"That's enough Alyona," a firm voice said. An old woman stepped forward, pulling the two apart. "They would have taken us anyway. These men need no excuse." She turned to Rose with a small smile.
"I apologize, stranger. We know you meant new harm." Rose gave her a shaky smile.
"'S okay. I have this, this friend yeah? When my Mum met him she gave him a mean slap, but they're mates now." She knew that this was something of an exaggeration, but the way Alyona was looking at her made her want to be as friendly as possible.
"Where do you come from?" the woman asked. "It must be far, as you are clearly ignorant of the way Stalin's men work." Rose nodded.
"Where I'm from –London, that is, there ain't people like this. We moan about the government the whole time." The villagers stared at her.
"Tell us more," the woman said. Rose smiled.
"Don't want to bore ya."
"Do you see much else to do?" Rose looked around and made an 'o' shape with her mouth.
"Well, London's a big place. It-" Soon she was immersed in her storytelling, lost in a world she might never see again. So when she heard familiar grinding sounds, she put it down to the wind howling against the train. And so much so that she didn't notice the poisonous glances Alyona shot at her as the train lurched into life.
The Doctor stood alone in the snow. The icy wind whipped past his cheeks, stinging him with ice, but he did not notice. He stared at the key in his hand, tracing the frozen blood with his fingertips. Tiny strands of purple fabric stuck to the metal, the remnant of Rose's glove still attached to her key. She was gone. His Rose. No. He curled his fingers around the key, letting the teeth dig into her skin. They had taken her key and she had put up a fight. Nothing more. He would not give up on her, not now, not after all they'd been through. In the distance he could make out a low building. The Doctor started to head towards it, when he heard a rumbling sound and saw a truck emerge from the gloom. Slipping behind a snow-drift, he closed his eyes, focusing his Time Lord hearing on the conversation that they were having.
"It's a shame," one man said. "She was a pretty thing. Young too. We could have made use of her." The Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. He edged closer to the approaching truck, straining his ears.
"Her own fault," said an older, gruffer voice. "She tried to resist. The captain doesn't put up with that nonsense. He doesn't like spirit." No, the Doctor thought. Rassilon, no. He heard the truck roll past, and unable to stop himself, he stumbled out into the open, staring at the retreating truck. The back was roofless. A prone figure lay on the floor, almost completely covered. Just her blond hair fluttered out behind her, caught in the frigid wind. The Doctor felt a tear freeze on his cheek. Oh Rose, he thought. Oh Rose.
A/N: I know that was a boring chapter and I'm really sorry, but I wanted to establish a few things like where they were going, what they were doing, and more about Alyona and Rose. I SWEAR this will be the last chapter like it though. Please stick with it! I promise it will get better! And for those who maybe weren't sure, a Trotskyist was someone loyal to Stalin's enemy Trotsky, and apparently was therefore evil and deserved to die (not my opinion, Stalin's.) Please review and tell me what you think! Also, I realised I used no, yes and please quite a bit. They're irritating cause they don't have synonyms.