"No, no, no! I wanted to go to Barcelona! You know, the planet, not the city! With the noseless dogs!" With querimonious groans, he circled the TARDIS console and began to trip various levers and handles. The TARDIS moaned back in retort to his button pushing, but didn't move, through space, or time. Perhaps slightly to the left; but a slight left alignment really was of no importance. What was more important at the moment was the fact that he began questioning if he'd ever get to Barcelona.

He brushed his coat down and adjusted his collar before approaching the TARDIS doors, with a sigh, he pushed open the door.

The room was impossibly dark, all curtains closed. The roof was severely sloped and it seemed that the TARDIS had found herself in the only possible allowed space in the attic for her size and shape. The Doctor frowns, then locks the TARDIS door – manually, at that. Locking the door with the beeps seemed… out of place. Unsuitable for the ubiquitous shadowy and negative atmosphere that pervaded the place.

He walked to the window and shifted the curtain opening by a few centimeters, allowing a fragile stream of light to drift into the room. The wooden floorboards showed up as slightly rotting and probably horrific to walk on in barefoot. He closed the curtain and ran a hand along the wall quietly. The wall was chilled with night air, and in stark contrast to the floor, it was damp and he pulled his hand away immediately. With a deep frown, he found the air to not only be embellished with the cold, but also… fear. A lot of fear.

The humming of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver shifted through the silent air as he began scanning, curious. He looked back towards the window, before a door opened behind him, and a young girl tapped on his shoulder.

He turned, but before he could process it, he was quickly knocked onto the nearby couch with a large book. It seemed that no-one else in the house was awake, as one would assume someone else but a young girl would have been sent to deal with an assumed burglar.

He woke up a few minutes later, having been only stunned but not particularly knocked unconscious, he was faced with a girl, only 13, 14, but who exuded the air of someone much older. She leaned forwards, hands on her hips and a pout on her face.

"Who are you? And what's that?!" Her finger pointed towards the TARDIS, her voice heavily inflected with Dutch and German. The Doctor lifted an eyebrow, before realizing who exactly had just hit him with a large book. She seemed to speak in a very low, harsh whisper, as if she wasn't trying to be heard.

"Anne Frank…"
Her eyes opened wide, and she bared the book again. "Who are you?!" She repeated.

He moved backwards slightly. "No, no that doesn't matter. Look, I need to go. I can't be here." He returned the whisper, but it was urgent sounding. Desperate.
"Then why are you here?!" The book glinted dangerously in the twilight, and the Doctor gulped as he saw the golden lock and the red and white tartan pattern that made its covers as he found it truly was her diary, sat upon another, larger book – an Encyclopedia of sorts, one assumed. Anne stopped, suddenly, as she heard footsteps outside. Her entire personality shifted, and she breathed deeply before stepping back and pushing the Doctor back into the couch. "Don't speak." Her voice was just as desperately quiet as the Doctor's, now.

The Doctor, understanding the situation, kept quiet until Anne pushed herself off of him and glared.

"Are you a Gestapo?"
"No… no, god no. Of all things I am I am not Gestapo."

"Then what are you?"

"…a Doctor."
"What's your name, doctor?" He was silent. "Tell me!"

"...The Doctor."

"…Sorry, what?"
"…The Doctor."

"Doctor… who?"
"…Just, just The Doctor. Look, I can't stay here. I need to leave."
"How?!"
"With the blue box, right over there." He nodded at the TARDIS. Anne scoffed.

"You can't just turn up here… did you come in through the bookcase? Did you get told how to find us?"

"Actually, I was more forced here." He cast a wary glance at the TARDIS.

"…Okay. Go. Get out."
"...wa-"

"And shut up!" Her whisper was a stubborn hiss, now. She could hear people passing by the window again. The Doctor shifted out from under the young girl and moved with silent purpose to the TARDIS, putting in the key. Lights flashed through the window as cars passed them by. Eyes wide, Anne shifted backwards just as the TARDIS door was opened. Tripping on the splintering floor boards, her and the Doctor both fell into the open TARDIS. The Doctor jumped up immediately as he tried desperately to get Anne out before she noticed… but it seemed it was too late.

"…It's…"
"…yes?"
"…It's… rather spacious, isn't it? For a blue box?"
"…you didn't say that right."
"How was I meant to say it?"
"Go on. You can figure it out."
"…It's… smaller on the outside?"
"Oh, close enough. "

"What exactly is going on?!" Her voice was still gratingly quiet. The Doctor closed the TARDIS door.

"It's okay," he continued, his voice at a much louder volume now, "they won't hear you in he-!" He was stopped by Anne putting her hand over his mouth roughly.

"Dummkopf!" She lost her own control, and shouted this. Her shout echoed, and she stood back, waiting. But nothing happened.

"I told you. We're fine in here."

"What are you?" She asked, hesitantly.

"I'm the Doctor, and you shouldn't be here."
"Why not?"
"Because, you're you, Anne. Because without you, a lot of things would be very, very different…"
"Pardon?"

"…Anne?"
"Yes?"
"…do you want to find out why?"
"Why what?"
"You have to go."
"Yes."
"Come along, then." He offered a meager smile, and then paced the TARDIS controls in a much more reserved manner. The TARDIS's creaking noise reverberated around them, and just like that, it was gone.
"What exactly is going on?"
"This is the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space. It can travel anytime, anywhere in the universe. Where ever you want."
"Anywhere? You could take me to Paris? To London?"
"Bigger. Better."
"…America?"
"Even bigger."
"The moon?"
"Oh yes. And Neptune, Venus, Pluto, Midnight, the Diamond planet… Actually, maybe not that one… bad idea, that."
"Pluto? …And I'm not even going to attempt that last one."
"You'll hear about that soon. Already been discovered, you know. What year is it?"

"1944… what other year could it be?"
"I've already told you, time machine! What month is it?"
"July… a time machine? You could take me to the end of the war?"
"I don't know… I don't think so. Not you, Anne. Not you…"
"Why?!"
"You're important. You're special… I want to change it, but I can't…"
"How?!"
"We're here." The Doctor said.

"We're where?"
"Where you need to be." The Doctor ran to the door and opened it, revealing the bustling streets of London. June 12th, 2013. Cars passed by, and tall, thin, buildings stretched upwards gracefully.

"This isn't Amsterdam."
"No, it's London."

"Should we be here?"
"It's fine. It's 2013."
"…that's not too far ahead, is it?"
"No, not really… well, sort of… well… well." He stopped.
"Why did you take me here?"
"Let's go on a walk."
"Walking where?"
"Just the streets. Come on, it'll be fun."
"Okay."

The streets of London provided the perfect backdrop for the Doctor and Anne. The two walked, at first somewhat awkwardly, and just… talked. He told her about the world as it is now; how Hitler's regime was frowned upon. How the Jewish people bounced back from their persecution… but everytime he neared any information about her, she found him quickly evading the subject. He would not answer any questions about her, her family… except, in some brief manner, her father?

And then he started speaking about himself. She pursued questions with him, too – of his adventures, his travels. His companions came up, but that also seemed a touchy subject with him. He didn't speak much on them, she just knew that he was lonely. That he was surrounded by a deep sadness she could, rather surprisingly, sympathise with.

She frowned.

"The world seems much nicer, now…"
"It does, and it is. Sometimes."
"And the universe is much bigger than I thought it was…"
"Anne?"
"Yes?"
"What do you want to be, when you grow up?"
"I want to be a journalist. I know I can write… I write a lot, you see…"
He laughed. "Really?"
"Ja." She smiled in return. "But…"
"But?"
"I don't know if I have any talent for writing. If I have any potential for it… I don't want to fade into obscurity. I want something else… to dedicate myself to, than just having a husband, and having children. I want my writing to be relevant; I want people generations in the future to read it and think, "Yes, Anne Frank… she was a great writer. She left a mark on the world.""
The Doctor had since slowed down, and Anne with him. The deep sadness returned.

"Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"You've been evading the question for so long… but… it's the future?"
"It is!" He grinned.
"…Doctor…"
"Go on…"
"…What happens to me?"

The Doctor stops in his tracks, then shakes his head. Taking Anne's hand, he lead her back to the TARDIS. He sighed.

"You said I was important. That I was special, Doctor. What. Happens. To. Me?"

A sad smile crosses his face. "Anne, if you were anyone else, I would have offered to take you with me. To see the universe, the stars. The beauty that is in the universe…"
"Why not me?"
"Because, Anne, you're a fixed point in time. Time is wibbly and wobbly and can be re-written and edited and changed… but sometimes, some points in time are just… impossible to adjust. You're one of them."
"Why?"
"Because your writing left such a mark on the world, was so relevant… that if that changed, the world would be so different, so… unlike it is now…" He smiled softly, and pressed her shoulder reassuringly. "Your writing… changes lives, Anne."
"Really? My writing?"
"Yes."
"I don't know what to say…"
"How about… you just head back home." He said this with an overbearing sadness. She could feel his wanting to change, his desire to adjust, but somehow, she understood that it just… couldn't work that way.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"No, Anne. Thank you." His gentle eyes looked soft in the pervading darkness of the annex.

"Doctor…"
"Yes?"
"Will I die?"
"Everyone does. In the end." He pulled her into an embrace, but the two were immediately wrenched apart by the sound of a motorcycle. He smiled at her, and she returned it, before stepping back and waving him goodbye. He nodded, then stopped, just before fully closing the TARDIS door.
"Oh, and Anne?" His voice was a whisper again.
"Yes?"
"Get those floorboards fixed." He laughed, and Anne smiled, before the door was closed, and the TARDIS was gone. Anne sighed gently and sat down, diary still in hand. She recovered her pen, and with slight hesitance… she began to write.