The Doctor stood with hands clenched, head bowed. Pain etched itself on his features, and old and ancient pain, from so far back in his past, he’d thought he’s rid himself of it. “Nine hundred years,” he thought, ‘nine hundred years, and still I can’t escape it.” He swallowed and looked as if he was going to be ill. A full range of emotions rippling through him: shame, hurt, loneliness, sorrow, confusion, and the worst of all, fear. He’d thought, after all these years of traveling and trying to save the universe from itself, he’d run away from all this. But it came back in on him, right in his face when he’d least expected it. He felt sick inside himself, like he’d felt….like he’d felt when he’d lost Rose–only ten times worse. Marie pulled back into the sofa and drew herself up even further, a sad faraway look upon her face. “I’m sorry”, she whispered, “I didn’t know.”

He turned and looked at her. Finally, the Doctor understood the familiar sensations he got when he was near her. She was very much like he’d been once, still was in many ways. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes. After a moment he said, “It’s alright, Marie. Everything’s alright. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” He looked out the window at the night. A sister, he had a sister. Well, half-sister. He gave a resigned shrug and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He supposed if he could live through losing Rose, he could get through this as well. Making a decision, he reburied his pain deep inside his mind. Then he turned and held out his hand to Marie. “Come on then, come over here and give your big brother a hug.”

The Doctor and Marie were once again seated on the sofa. After a while Marie had gone back in the kitchen and put more hot water on for tea. The Doctor was wondering where on earth Uncle Tobias had got himself to. “They don’t like the light, Marie said, “it’s when the moon is gone that he comes out of his room. I hide. He doesn’t know about the tunnel. I found it by accident.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his cup. “Yes, you mentioned something about that before, that they don’t like light. There are only just so many creatures that fit that description.”

“Like who?” Marie asked. “Well…” The Doctor said expansively, “There’s vampires for one. And there’s the shadow creatures, and let’s see…oh–about a few hundred more that I can think of…not very many at all, in the scope of the universe. Let me think. He cocked his head at her. What do we know, so far, eh, Marie?” He said, looking at her expectantly.

Marie bit her lip. “Ummm–they don’t like light, they kill people, ummm–I’ve seen the blood, from the animals, but the bodies disappear. First it was the chickens, then the goat, then, today, the cows and…and…” She looked away and tried to hide her hurt. He felt her hurt–not just imagined it…truly felt it. Inside himself, and he wasn’t sure how to take that. Hesitating only a fraction of a second, he reached over and hugged her again. “I know, really I do.” He drew back and looked thoughtfully at her. “Hang about, what was that you said before, about a tunnel?”

“I found it, one time, when I was moving the old ice box in the corner of the kitchen. I’d dropped a recipe card behind it. There was a trap door underneath it. I think it is very old. I remember my teacher at school once, talking about the Underground Railroad being around here. That’s when they hid slaves running away to Canada, back before the Civil War. Maybe it’s from then. I don’t know.” Without warning, one of the dogs began barking, followed by the other two. Then, they all three yelped in terror, and were suddenly silenced. The Doctor got up swiftly and crossed to the window. The sky was black as pitch. The moon had gone in. “Ah. I think Uncle Tobias is home.”