Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter One: Travellers

It takes a lot to realise that there are two sides to everything.

People aren't always what you expect them to be. Gradually, one by one, humans are starting to prove that to me. London is the place that has taught me that.

It is a simple city. It isn't very remarkable, it isn't extravagant, it doesn't need to show off its wealth to every pitiful nook and cranny. No amphitheatre stands in the centre. No temples tower over the dwellings of mortal men. No frescoes or tapestries adorn the walls. And yet, somehow, it still manages to appear beautiful to the eyes of a traveller. A silent, simple beauty.

The streets are empty at night, for no-one dared to venture out. They are afraid — fraid of the bombs. However, this does not stop the locals from venturing out to quiet bars for a break from the nightmare of a world at war.

—

That is were my night begins, surrounded by gossiping patrons and cigarette smoke. The band plays softly in the background, the singer's smooth voice filling the room with a lilting melody. I take a long sip from my glass, allowing my gaze to travel across the small stage. Until a man catches my attention.

He stands by the back exit, leather-clad arms folded across his chest. There is something about the way his eyes scan the crowd. Something strange. He regards the people with masked pain, a look that seems almost longing as he watches them chat amongst themselves.

He finally matches my gaze. Lips twitching into a friendly but awkward smile, he nods his head once in greeting before turning his attention back to the band. Applause rings out as the song ends, and I watch curiously as he jumps onto the stage.

"Excuse me!" All eyes fixed upon him. "Excuse me, could I have everybody's attention? Just for a mo. Be very quick. Hello! Um..." the microphone squeaks shrilly as he stammers his way through the announcement, "might seem like a stupid question, but has anything fallen from the sky recently?"

Silence.

Finally, a bout of laughter comes from the audience in reply. He hadn't been wrong, it is a stupid question. And yet he doesn't seem to understand why.

He frowns. "Sorry, have I said something funny?" He receives no response. "It's just... there's this thing I need to find. Would've fallen from the sky a couple of days ago."

The mournful wail of a siren sounds and I watch, amused, as everyone around me hurries for the exits.

"Would've landed near here, " he turns his gaze towards the ceiling as the sirens continues, "with a very loud..."

The propaganda posters catch his eye.

"Bang."

—

I follow him down the street, tugging my thick coat around myself as a particularly harsh wind forces against me. My feet ache from running. If I had known that this would happen, I wouldn't have worn heels.

"Rose!" the man yells, racing down the alley. It is empty, save for a stray kitten curler up in a crate. He sighs and carefully lifts it. "You know, one day... just one day, maybe, I'm gonna meet somebody who gets the whole 'don't wander off' thing. Nine hundred years of phone-box travel, it's the only thing left to surprise me!"

"Might I say, you don't look half bad for your age."

He freezes. Placing the kitten back down, he watches tentatively as I emerge from the heavy shadows. His eyes scan over me with a deep interest and curiosity. "You were in the bar. Wait, shouldn't you be in the shelter?"