Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who

Pairing: (Doctor/OC)

Summary:

Before the Doctor left Gallifrey, before he stole a wonderful blue box and fled to the stars, he had to learn. And that was where he saw her. Bright, infectious and captivating, from the very first time he saw her in the Academy Halls barely out of his 100's, she'd captured him.

The universe knows him as the Doctor. The man that never stops running, never stops fighting, descending on a planet and effortlessly altering their entire history and direction. But not her. To a man who is always his human companions' whole world - unachievable, totally beyond their grasp, incapable of ever truly calling their own - when she comes hurtling through the portal on that day the Master follows the drums back to Gallifrey, unwillingly propelled forward by the countless soldiers under her command, determined to see their debt to her repaid, to save their Commander…the Doctor's life changes.

To the universe, the idea that the Doctor was ever unseen, overlooked, unknown, is inconceivable. But that's exactly who and what he is to her.

A stranger.

Brilliant and bright, she never saw him looking when they shared the halls of the Academy; never saw anything more than a useful advantage in the War against the Daleks.

Until now. Until it's only the two of them left.

The last two children of Gallifrey.

…

*The End of Time*

"Think about what you are doing."

The furious, desperate look in Rassilon's eyes did nothing but tighten The Doctor's grip on the gun's trigger.

"There is but one of him, we are many," Wearing the blood red robes of his office, the leader of the Time Lords made an intimidating picture with his back to the blinding portal, but ceremony meant nothing to The Doctor.

"Yeah," The Master interjected swiftly, his cajoling encouragement plain at his back, "but he's the President," he hissed, as if sharing some great secret. "Kill him, and Gallifrey could be yours!"

With great effort, The Doctor swung round, keeping his arm steady as he aimed the gun, the effort it took to remain standing sending shocks of pain across his chest.

Blue eyes immediately widened.

"He's to blame, not me!" The Master shouted, throwing his arm towards the figures he'd turned his back on in helpless fury, his expression caught between true fear and rage.

Loud, long churning suddenly moved behind him, but The Doctor caught himself before he could turn, knowing whatever it was would have to wait, that it didn't matter, only one thing did.

"Get out of the way," He growled.

It took The Master but a second to understand, and then he was diving.

He fired.

"Go, go! Hurry!"

As bullet met machine, ripping through the fragile link tying Gallifrey and Earth together, the panicked shouting drifting through the still open portal was ignored by all. All eyes focused on the sparking destruction in front of them.

"What are you doing? What do you think you're doing?!"

"It's closing, I can already see it closing!"

"Get out of the way," He barely had time to register the low command before the energy was already manifesting between The Master's palms.

Uncaring of the damage to his already battered body, The Doctor threw himself out of the way, the heat of energy burning his skin as his former friend threw forward his attack.

"Graham…Graham, no! No!"

And, yet, despite the deafening noise and chaos, all manner of eyes watching Gallifrey's one chance of escape reducing to ash, The Master's hateful snarl hurting his hearts, something about that last, piercing scream had The Doctor turning his head.

"There's nothing more you can do Commander! We are lost!"

"You did this to me!" Stalking forward, spittle flying from his mouth, there was no hesitation in The Master's attacks, no respite as he aimed blow after lethal blow at the President, following him back towards the portal. "You! You used me!"

"But God help me, we will save you!"

"Three," The Master spat, eyes dark.

Throwing a desperate look over the chaos in front of him, The Doctor felt the air leave his lungs as his Mother gave him a single, tear-filled smile, love shining from her eyes.

No.

"No, don't d-!"

"Four," And with that final count, horrible satisfaction twisting his childhood friend, robed bodies began falling back into the shining portal, back into the Time Lock.

Back to Gallifrey.

Without him.

"Throw her through! Now!"

It shouldn't have been possible, but as those last, roaring orders trembled over the barriers between worlds, as all those of his kind standing before him were sucked back into the horror of the war, one body came sailing out.

Just one.

And with its appearance, the expression on The Master's face abruptly froze, his eyes fixed on nothing but the graceful arc of the person's fall. Horrified realisation pushing aside all anger, all hurt, until all he seemed to see was them; one, last, whispered word escaping his lips as Gallifrey pulled him unmercifully back.

The portal vanished.

Braced against the floor, his body aching with pain, The Doctor couldn't pull his eyes away from the last place the door between planets had stood, new, familiar devastation choking him.

Again.

He'd sentenced them - his people, his planet - to the horror of the Time Lock…again.

"I'm alive," He breathed, hardly able to grasp the concept past the pain in his hearts. "I'm alive."

Four dull knocks suddenly echoed around the destroyed hall, sending ice through his veins.

The bitterness that ripped through him as he staggered to his feet, gaze locked on the reality of Donna's grandfather trapped in the glass booth before him, was frightening. Especially in a man such as he.

"No," Wilf whispered, horror-struck as he watched The Doctor's slow approach, "No, I'm an old man. I've lived my life. I'm done. Leave me, Doctor!"

If only it were ever that simple.

As if he would ever be able to live with himself if he did.

Feeling the dark, self-depreciating smirk pulling up the right side of his mouth, when Wilf spoke his next words, nothing could have shocked him more.

Because he'd forgotten.

"What about them?!" Wilf screamed, pointing frantically to the side. "I saw them come through the portal, Doctor, I know where they must come from. I know who they have to be! What they must be! You can't just abandon them!"

But he wasn't hearing Wilf's increasingly desperate words any longer, shock rendering him immobile.

A body. He'd forgotten about…

With a speed he hadn't known his battered form still capable of, The Doctor spun, eyes frantically scanning the marble floor, looking for the evidence, looking for what he knew he'd seen escape the portal but didn't dare hope for, his heart's stopping when his gaze finally fell on the unmoving figure laying awkwardly against the cold ground.

"You're not alone anymore, Doctor," As if sensing the profound impact the sight of one of his people was having on him, Wilf ruthlessly pressed his advantage, speaking quietly through the glass that trapped him. "That person, right there, they need you. I didn't hear much, not over everything that was happening here, but I heard enough to know that that person there did not expect to come through the portal."

But The Doctor's lightning-fast mind was already eons ahead of the well-meaning human, running over every snippet of dialogue he'd managed to decipher in the chaos, his mind whirling as a terrible hope began to build in his chest, hurting.

The Time Lord's voice…he'd said Commander.

Commander…the highest military rank one could achieve without political power. Never more than five, never less, everyone on Gallifrey knew the Commander's names. They were the five that decided everything. The High Council might have dictated the war's goals, areas they wanted captured or attacks they expected to be launched at the Daleks…but it was the Commanders who decided everything else.

He should know. He'd been one.

"You see, Doctor?" Wilf laughed humourlessly, hands pressed against the glass door, watching him watch the only other Time Lord in existence, "You can't die. You can't die, because whoever they are, they'll need you."

Swallowing, The Doctor walked slowly towards the unconscious figure lying on their side, face hidden behind their exposed back.

It could only be four people.

Only four.

His breathing quickened, becoming laboured as he slowly closed the gap.

"Doctor?"

He didn't know if it was hope, horrible, terrible hope, or something else, but the obvious loyalty in that soldier's voice as he'd disobeyed his superior in an effort to throw them free of the lock…it could be…she…it might be her. It might really be her!

"…Doctor? What's wrong?"

Now kneeling beside the fallen figure, his hand shook as he reached out to grasp their shoulder, hearts now pounding as he glimpsed a shock of platinum blonde hair fanning out across the floor.

"Doctor?" Wilf breathed, almost like he could feel the air's heaviness, the importance of this moment, unable to break it.

It took the barest touch against shoulder to turn them, a pale, dirt-smudged face rolling towards him, but it was enough.

"…Jana," The longed-for name escaped his lips much as it had The Master's. With wonder.

He didn't know how long he spent watching her, taking her in with hungry eyes, but when his mind finally managed to escape the maelstrom it was caught in, he was on his feet and crossed the auditorium with determined strides, eyes locked on the control panel that he needed to release Wilf from his glass prison.

"Doctor?" The ageing human called hesitantly, watching his blank, iron expression with wary eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting you out," He answered crisply, unwilling to delay.

"But you can't!" Wilf gasped, horrified, shying away from the glass as if that might somehow keep him from rescuing him and taking his place within the radiation as he's only explained to the man minutes earlier. "You'll die, Doctor!"

His hand paused in its reach for the lever.

Glancing up at Donna's grandfather, seeing the truly wretched look in his eyes, he couldn't help looking over his shoulder at the body still lying, unconscious, against the ground.

"No, I won't," He countered softly; cold determination filtering through his veins, darkening his expression to one of such dangerous seriousness, Wilf actually took a step back. "I don't care what the prophecy says. Everything changed the moment she came through that gateway…I'm not going anywhere."

And for reasons Wilf couldn't understand, he found himself nodding, believing the Time Lord. It was impossible not to, not with that look in his eyes.

"The radiation will weaken me to the point of death," The Doctor spoke quickly, unable to keep from shooting the body behind him constant, worried glances, "but it will take time for the regeneration process to kick in." He pierced the human with his gaze, holding him prisoner. "Even if it's only three minutes, that's three minutes I won't be able to protect her if something happens…I need your word."

He could see the confusion in Wilf's features plain as day, and irritation shot through him, a sense of urgency taking over.

"I need to know that she will be safe, Wilf. That you will protect her. With your life," He demanded seriously, unwilling to open that door until the man understood exactly what he was entrusting to him. "She and I…we're the last."

Understanding, followed swiftly by fierce determination, flooded Wilf's eyes, and the human gave him one, single nod.

"On my life," Donna's grandfather vowed. "You can trust me, Doctor. No harm will come to her."

"…Good."

And then, he yanked open the door, no hesitance in his actions. Something far more important entirely dwarfing fears that had seemed so real, so important, only hours before.

…