Chapter Text
Jenny was cold. That was all she was sure of, all she had been sure of for a very long time, really. Somewhere deep inside she knew she wasn’t safe, and she knew she hadn’t eaten in a very long time, but she didn’t really care; she hadn’t been hungry is a long time either. The cold of the cobblestones seeped through the thin, tattered barrier of her worn clothing, and into her bones. Distantly, she realised that it should bother her, or cause her some discomfort, but somehow it didn’t. She could barely feel the rough stone against her cheek as she lay down, huddled as far into the corner between a building and the street as she could be. She heard voices and, with no energy for anything else, she listened to them, as though they were an anchor to the reality she could feel slipping away from her.
“So you see,” a man’s voice, “they’re everywhere. All through the universe, and in every time, even here, there are races trying to wipe out humanity.”
“Why should I care?” A woman’s voice, too, with strangely emphasised w’s. Not a woman’s voice, a lady’s, Jenny corrected herself. She spoke too clearly and carefully to be anything less.
“That’s why I took you with me. To show you the threat. And you know where they end up, scattered across the universe-”
“Like vermin,” the lady interrupted.
“No, not like vermin at all.” Jenny wondered if the man was getting angry, but she couldn’t really tell. She had no idea what they were talking about, and what she could hear reached her as though she was at the bottom of a very deep well, hearing echoes rather than clear voices. At the end of the street, she saw two figures round the corner, and realised that belonged to the two speakers.
“They are a race of great potential, even matching your own. A younger race, yes, but given the same time that Silurians had to develop, they might surprise you with how far they go. One day they will colonise the universe. But only if I can keep them safe. You could help me.”
Neither of them noticed Jenny as they walked towards her. Why would they? She was just another of London’s many homeless, poor, starving children.
“It’s your choice,” the man continued, “Of course it’s your choice. I could take you back in time, drop you off among your own people, and you’d not have to witness what happened again. It would still happen, though. Or I could take you anywhere else on this world or another. One day in the future, your people will wake again, and they will share the planet with its current inhabitants. But only if the planet is still here to be shared. You’ve done enough damage here. If you choose to stay, do what I do, what I’ve always done, to atone for what I did to Gallifrey and my people all those years ago. Help them.” The urgency in those last two words surprised Jenny. They surprised the man’s companion too, she could tell.
“And my people will rise again?”
“And be stronger than ever before,” the man agreed. They paused for a moment, and the woman seemed to decide something.
“You have taught me of their society, of how to fit in. I will stay here. I will help,” she said, her words carefully measured. The man seemed to burst with excitement, bouncing up and down on his toes before catching himself, and trying to act proper again.
“Splendid!” He burst forth in a babble of excitement, but Jenny was too tired to listen anymore. They didn’t see her as they passed, hidden in shadow as she was, but the woman’s dress stirred up the dust, and she coughed weakly. Both figures jumped, surprised. Jenny tried to apologise for disturbing them, but found she didn’t have the strength. The man knelt down beside her, and waved a shiny stick in her face. The light hurt Jenny’s eyes, but she knew if she closed them she wouldn’t have the energy to open them again.
She wouldn’t have cared, living on the streets wasn’t exactly the height of luxury, but there were worse places to be, and she wouldn’t let herself be taken to them. She was a child of London, she knew how to defend herself, at least a little. Realistically she knew she wasn’t a match for a grown man, not even one as skinny and lanky as the one who was peering into her face, not anymore. But she wouldn’t go down without a fight. He was a toff, anyway, he couldn’t be too strong. Then the man sighed, like Jenny made him sad, and he stood up, apparently disinterested. Jenny blinked in surprise.
“Well?” She wasn’t sure who he was asking, her or the woman, or what the question was.
“What?” The woman with him made a strange hissing sound.
“You don’t have to start until you’re ready, of course. But if you don’t…” The man shrugged. His companion hissed again, and then sighed like she was going to do something she’d regret.
“I don’t suppose one little ape will hurt,” she muttered, and bent to pick Jenny up. She was much stronger than Jenny had imagined any woman could be, at least one who didn’t have to work to keep herself. Her head lolled, like her neck didn’t have the energy to keep it upright, so she couldn’t get a good look at the faces of either of her… saviours? Captors? She wasn’t sure, and she wouldn’t have seen much anyway; colours were blurring across her vision and they wouldn’t condense into one image. Then there weren’t even colours anymore, just darkness, and Jenny passed out.