Chapter Text
Rory was in his twin sized bed, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered to his ceiling. He couldn't focus or sleep when he felt his home shake, along with a headache inducing crash. He jolted up and looked around, petrified. Slowly but surely, Rory managed to swing both his feet over the bed and jump down. He grabbed his tiny blue flashlight and ran downstairs. He was home alone- his father took on any shifts he could, including night shifts, and his mother only returns occasionally- usually violent. Rory was the man of the house. Peeking his head outside, he didn't see anything out the front door. Making his way to the back, he heard faint noises of coughing.
Rory didn't dare open the door. "Who's out there?" He yelled, in a higher tone than he'd like.
He heard shuffling, then a thud.
"I'm the Doctor. And who are you? Where are you?"
The blond hesitantly cracked the back door open, keeping his flashlight on and his senses aware. "I'm Rory."
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, disembodied voice! Didn't think your kind were around in England."
This confused Rory, and he completely stepped out into plain view. "I have a body." He looked to see a tall man, disheveled and raggedy, standing tall next to a crashed police box. The Doctor, he called himself.
"Oh, only a tiny one. How old are you, Rory?"
"I'm eight. Are you the police?"
"No, why would I be? Are you in trouble, little boy?" The Doctor wrung his hands.
"Well, I'm scared my mom will come home again when I'm sleeping. I can't sleep, just in case she does."
The Doctor tilted his head. "Do you have food? Tell me about this over a good apple. I love apples."