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awindylife-writes · 6 months

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This Time Around (Chapter 10 rewrite)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, (here) (ongoing)

Relationships: Third Doctor x reader

Summary: The Doctor and you talk in the infirmary. There are a lot of feelings on both sides, not all of them pleasant. He stands with you through the storm.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and physical violence, but nothing graphic.

Author's notes: What can l even say. This took so much from me, and l'm immensely proud of it. I'm going to carry this project through, l just don't know in what timeframe. I hope you enjoy:))

(The concepts of bond-mates and visible personal timelines belong to @inthisformiambadwolf.)

The Doctor held you. It was a world where nothing could hurt you, nothing could reach you. A world of open peace and gentle comfort. There was time to stay still.

He held you. Everything that was were the two of you. You could breathe, you could find your feet again. You knew where you stood, and you didn't stand alone.

He held you. You saw him, you'd let him come closer than you had ever allowed anyone to be. The trust you had in him was bigger than you, and you were safe.

The awe of this place never left you. You felt the Doctor like cool raindrops on your skin, the mountain wind in your lungs. Something wild, rebellious, rushing, velvet to the touch. You were allowed to hold him.

You could have sung from the joy of looking at this person who meant the world to you.

He was different. Ten was a colossal storm, a swirling galaxy, so vast compared to you. Three was a giant too, but smaller. You could just see the beginnings, which branches of his personality would grow and what he would grow into. His underlying edge would sharpen, temper shorten, ego grow; kindness would spread out into a world of its own, permeating his every part...

You wanted to know him now. You needed to know him now. God, you could just glimpse where his thoughts wove themselves in the distance, where his memories compiled, where his dreams hid far, far away...

But you couldn't look that deeply. You didn't have his permission and there wasn't time for that. You had too much to do, too much to find out, too much you didn't know about the place you'd found yourself in.

A breath. Gentle and careful, you started to pull back, untangling your thoughts from his.

He loosened his hold on you in turn.

You had dropped your shields when you'd clung to him in your panic. Now was the time to put them back up, so you brought the firm layers forward one by one, shutting the Doctor out with a stab of regret.

You hoped you would come back to this place. You hoped you would be allowed to hold him like this again.

When you opened your eyes, you had a moment to appreciate just how beautiful this version of him was, in private and up close. (He wasn't Ten and you'd deal with that train of thought later. But.)

Another wave of awe crashed over you. He was the Doctor, new, teasing, breathtaking and you wanted to look forever. Inside and out. Trace the lines on his face, cup his cheeks, how did his lips feel? Was his white hair as soft as it looked? Just how deep was that blue in his eyes?

There was so much to discover it made you greedy. Your hands itched to reach out, hold, explore. You thought about the rest of his body for two seconds max and there was that familiar heat already. Just looking at him made your nerves spark.

It's you, it's you, it's you... How could you resist this?

Then his eyes opened too and he smiled softly.

It snapped you back into your body. Reminded you that you were exhausted like a wrung out cloth, dirty along with greasy hair, aching all over besides your throbbing temple, and a stranger to him.

Alive, you were alive.

You couldn't help but smile back.

When he pulled away, the Doctor let go of your cheek and your hand, leaving the cold behind. You felt a pang in your chest at the loss.

Still, what he'd given you was enough to go on.

"Thank you," you murmured from your beating human heart.

He shook his head with gentle eyes. "There's nothing to thank me for." His eyebrows pinched together just a little, but you didn't notice it when you looked down at your lap.

His new face was distracting and you had to get a hold of yourself if you wanted to carry a coherent conversation.

"I think there is," you quietly countered.

For a moment, you saw your stinging wrists wrapped in gauze. Tired, aching hands. Blood and dirt under your broken nails. They reminded you of what you were capable of, and your sore shoulders relaxed.

You raised your eyes again and began with a tentative smile, shrugging. "Where do we start?" Your hands leaned on the edge of the bed so your scabs smarted, but you were glad and brave and open.

You saw stubble, a glint in his eyes and his lapel had a muted red edge. You'd missed looking at him. There was so much you wanted.

The Doctor loved the sound of we when it meant the two of you. Cocking his head, he gave you a warm smile. "Well, perhaps you could tell me your name?"

Oh, that hurt.

But it was kind of ironic too.

When you told him, he repeated it to taste it in his mouth. There were so many questions left there. When did we meet? Where? How much sugar do you take in your tea? Do you even like tea? Where did you grow up? What date is your birthday? Who the hell caused those bruises? May l hold you?

You let the way he said your name reverberate through your bones. You loved how it sounded in his voice.

Wait, does he know...? It wasn't like your marriage bond was a blinking ad sign, you had to be completely sure. "You-- You do know who l am to you, right?"

The Doctor grinned so wide it reached his dazzling eyes, and nodded. "I do."

That made you smile truly, you let out a relieved breath with a soft, "Okay."

Your curiousity woke. "How did you find out?"

"Ah..." His forefinger came to rub his jaw when he pressed his lips together, sheepish. "I accidentally brushed your hand when l came to see you. With that activation energy, our marriage bond was strong enough to circumvent all the temporal interference that stood in the way, and l knew," he shrugged.

Marriage bond. Our marriage bond. His awestruck joy lit him up like a sun. He wanted to cup your cheek again, but only his eyes stayed on you.

"Good," you nodded, certain. "I don't know what l would've done if l'd woken up in this..." Remembering you were in a room, you looked around despite your pulsing temple.

Curtain dividers on both your sides, around the edge you could just see neat beds parallel to yours, a writing desk with a chair by the wall... Was this a hospital?

"Where even are we?" You looked up at the Doctor again, eyebrows raised. "When are we?"

Your choice of words made him shake his head with a quirk of a smile. "These are UNIT headquarters, 1982, and--"

"UNIT." You grinned, incredulous. "I landed at UNIT of all places in the universe. Seriously, UNIT?!"

The room you saw was much more interesting now. You'd gone from a level 8 industrial planet to the 80's take on UNIT.

With all that looking around, you didn't notice the Doctor hadn't glanced away from you from the moment he'd pulled back. He knew this very much counted as staring and he didn't want to be found out.

It was just...

There was an expanse in your eyes, a vastness deeper than any sea and freer than any sky he'd ever seen. He didn't want to stop looking. He considered how to tell you, he thought of what he would give only to have the freedom to look at you. Just look at you for however long he wished.

Cocking his head, he managed a kind, "I'm as surprised as you are, my dear."

Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. You knew this regeneration of him had spent most of his time in the 70's and 80's, mostly involuntarily, and you could see how their way of speaking had rubbed off on him. Proper British accent and everything. You couldn't wait to hear more.

"I mean..." You tried to focus back on the topic and amended with a slight smile, "It's as good a place as any, l'm just..."

A sigh escaped you as the situation fully sank in.

UNIT.

1982.

Paradox.

"I don't know how l got here." Eyes closed, you rubbed your face with your palm while careful of your scabs. "Didn't mean to," you mumbled and dragged your hand down your face, drained.

The Doctor frowned as he cocked his head, imploring you to go on.

Your hands swung out in an 'l don't know' gesture. "l was locked on the TARDIS, the future one, but l was so tired."

Looking down at your lap, you remembered the stitches on your smarting temple and laughed. "And bleeding. And, like, the command centre was on fire, so," you shrugged, shoulders protesting, "I probably didn't check the landing fix again, l just jumped."

The refinery switch boards had flamed so hot you'd feared your face would be burned.

"But after that..." Your brows furrowed when you tried to look at the hazy past.

A cracked helmet. Monstrous fire. Noise.

That's it.

"l don't even remember leaving, or materializing..."

"No?" The Doctor looked you over, inquisitive.

Your gaze was back on him when you shook your head. "No."

A corner of his mouth pulled up as he tucked his hand in his pocket. "That's odd, since you landed in my laboratory, recognized me, and only then passed out."

A smile overtook your face at that, wide and warm as your cheeks heated up. Well, of course l did.

"Makes sense to me," you shrugged. "l'd know you anywhere."

You didn't need a bond to recognize him. You'd spent weeks, months, years drawing closer to him and bringing him close to you. Years in which the two of you had made a home in each other, secret by secret, shame by shame. Your bond was just its door.

And that was the crux of it. He was your Doctor, but younger than you'd ever seen him, new and tantalizing, there for you to come to know him all over again. You wanted to look at him forever, to ask him a million questions, laugh with him, run with him, fight him, hold him, you wanted time.

You wanted to kiss every wrinkle on his face.

The Doctor felt how your look reached for him, open, content and impossibly soft. It made him falter because everything he was turned forward to run to you.

There was something he'd been starving for. It made him feel the air around him, inside him, it enveloped him like the walls of a home and he was understood.

More. Only more of this. Please. He'd just discovered that he could breathe.

Oh god, you were staring--You're a stranger, a familiar stranger, even if he knows about your bond!

You snapped out of the reverie, grasping for straws, "And-- And, my manipulator was broken too! So..."

You went on with an awkward smile, "It's not all my fault..."

The Doctor blinked a bit dazedly, nodding with a frown, "Right," but you realized that your salvation wasn't on your wrist.

"Wait... Um, where is it?" You looked yourself over, then focused on him, "Do you know...?"

You had subconsciously reached for your neck.

Empty neck.

"Key-- !" Your ears rang. Horror rose like bile in your throat.

"Doctor, they TOOK MY KEY!" Your eyes stung with tears, you'd lost it, you'd lost it no matter how hard you'd tried to hold onto it, your thread leading home was gone because you'd been careless--

"No, no-no-no, l have it!"

He hurriedly pulled your glinting key from his pocket to show it in his palm. "I have it, look!"

You snatched it from his hand, lightning-fast, and gripped it as tightly as you could because you needed the pain from the cut in your palm to believe it was really there.

Your eyes shut against the swell of tears. You clutched your necklace like a lifeline in a seastorm, taking measured breaths.

It had been a mess of an uprising, and you'd kept your key hidden. From that market place to the stale shafts, the cells, the bright and sterile meeting room and the command centre of hell, you had guarded it. Never spoken of it, but had checked again and again if it was still there, as if it would have vanished like a wonderful dream. Your key was home and promise and love and the mere thought of losing it made you sick.

He'd kept it safe.

Your stinging eyes opened. "Thank you." Your murmur was more fervent than you'd meant it to be. You were so thankful it almost hurt.

The Doctor shook his head with a crease in his brow, lost. His answer was a soft murmur, "Again, there's nothing to thank me for."

He couldn't understand why you'd be grateful for so little. Worry was born like a cobweb in the corner of his mind at your repeated thanks for his care.

You pressed your lips together, attention still on your clasped hands. "I'd beg to differ." A quiet opposition.

Your eyes were watery but you raised them to his. Strained, fierce, your voice betrayed your pain, "If they'd taken it, or if l'd left it there, l'd never forgi-- !"

"Where is 'there'?" the Doctor demanded as he stepped towards you. The sight of tears in your eyes had snapped something in him. "Where did you run from?"

He wanted to hold you in his arms, make sure that you were with him, safe and whole.

Your mouth opened, but you faltered.

Your blurry gaze dropped down to your aching hands again and you rubbed your eyes. "No. No, it's not important," you shook your head with vigor, "I'm not--"

You wouldn't drag that burning wreck into this blue day. Not now. Not yet.

It wasn't that you were sorry for it. It had hurt, sure. Volonel IV had pounded you with its fists and its loneliness. But when you turned your feelings over like cards on the table and looked at them before you, you just couldn't find regret there.

You knew you would've done it again. Differently, perhaps, but...

Those people had needed help, and anything was worth the way Sava's mechanical pupils had widened when she'd realized that there was hope.

You just knew him. The Doctor always took responsibility for what he did and often also for things that weren't his fault. He put his needs aside to help others and he always thought he should have done better. You didn't want to explain what had gone wrong, the complexity of it all, if he'd just blame himself on principle.

And his resentment of his other regenerations would come up one way or another. He'd met himself, just once since you'd started travelling with him, and it had taken the two of them exactly three minutes and a half to start verbally tearing each other to bits. You'd managed to stop them; but now your body weighed you down, your head throbbed and you thought you'd just cry if you had to counter him.

You would have to remember everything for that.

You couldn't do it now, not when the two of you were still at the start (and why did he leave me, why the hell did he have to wander off and leave me-- running, can't breathe, cold, the cuffs slice your wrists, they are BEATING you, please, l can't, please NO, stop, STOP, STOP-- rushing, smoke sears your throat, your eyes burn, get out, run NOW, you're going to die-- )

"Please," the Doctor pulled you out of it. Of course he did.

How rare it was for him to say that word.

When you looked up at his face again, his wrinkled frown and his sky-blue eyes made your chest tight. You'd managed to stop your tears from falling but your nose was full now.

It was all you could do to look back. Not budging, but not unmoved either.

He tapped his thigh with his knuckles. Something rolled in his face, stepped back but magnified.

He spoke in a murmur. "I-- l won't insist that you tell me," he nodded, "but l'd very much like to know who did this to you."

Who did this to you. You heard a familiar anger in his words, like magma under thin ground that was writhing for the surface to crack.

It was so much like him, it soothed you. You were tied to this place with that mooring line.

Looking down at the key in your hand, you turned it in your grip as you swallowed. "I got out of there, there's no point getting into it now." Ask me again later, and you'll have it. Soon.

His shoulders gave in. He sighed, then nodded. "Alright."

You didn't know how to read him yet, you tried to look for signs that he'd heard what you'd implied. You opened your mouth--

A throat clearing behind you, "l hate to interrupt--"

Your whole body flinched and your head whipped around to stare at the stranger. In the same half-second, the Doctor turned so he was in front of you, partially hiding you behind him.

Neither of you noticed.

Dr Richards did.

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riversofmars · 7 months

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Me writing Doctor Who fanfiction like

#doctor who #fanfiction #dw fanfiction #writing life #neil patrick harris #the celestial toymaker

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serpercival · 10 months

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I both love and loathe writing for Six because he's incapable of turning off Talking Like That.

#doctor who #sixth doctor #dw fanfiction

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piecesofyouth · 11 months

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As a sapphic, I am begging for the talented writers of this fandom to write more wlw TenRose fics and fanart. The lack of it is utterly disturbing.

#i’m only half joking #tenrose #ten x rose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #doctor who #dw fanfiction

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pia-writes-things · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor & Missy Characters: Twelfth Doctor, River Song, Missy (Doctor Who) Additional Tags: Not Beta Read We Forgot Like Donna, Written from the prompt ''characters discover fanfic of themselves but with slow burn", the fanfics are featured but not really focused upon, i also kinda forgot about the slow burn part, and it's way angstier than I intented at first, because our two idiots just don't know how to communicate, Missy is stuck in the middle of a domestic quarrel, she actually kinda enjoys it, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant Summary:

River lives with the Doctor after Darillium while he tries to teach Missy how to be good. She discovers fanfictions written about them by the students. Chaos and miscommunication ensues.

“Because!” River exploded, “Because those students that know nothing about philosophy, or literature or good writing according to you, those students write the most beautiful love stories I’ve read about us! Because, of all the stories I’ve read, those are the one that are closest to what we are. To what we should be. To what we promised we would be. And they write that even though they only pass us by in the corridors once a day. Do you even realise what that means?”

So, I wrote a thing. It’d been a while ^^

Hope you’ll like it 😊

#pia's oversharing #Twelfth Doctor/River Song #Twelfth Doctor & Missy #Twelfth Doctor #River Song #Missy #Gomez!Master #doctor who #dw #doctor who fanfiction #dw fanfiction #peter capaldi #alex kingston #michelle gomez #writing #my writing

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soft-and-exhausted · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Words: 1343

Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), Thirteenth Doctor/Yaz, (All relationships are implied & subtext only) Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, The Master (Dhawan), Yasmin Khan (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Regeneration, Regeneration Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, author is very sad, Thirteen doesn't want to regenerate, Canonical Character Death, ish, you know how it is

Summary:

The Doctor is regenerating, but she's not alone. Even if her friends are gone.

"Hushh", the Master hummed when another sob broke from the Doctor.

#thoschei #master x doctor #master #dw #doctor who #thasmin #dw fanfiction #fanfiction #dw fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #the master #dhawan master #just sad regeneration stuff #shit i write #my fanfiction

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evviejo · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan Characters: Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor Additional Tags: post-tpotd, Closure Summary:

Yaz is trying to settle into her post-Doctor, UNIT life.

#my fic #thasmin #dw fic #dw fanfiction #ugh i don't know if it's the right idea to post it now but i am emotional #might revise it a bit later

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the-boy-who-waited · 1 year

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Pond Investigations

takes place shortly after the Angels Take Manhattan (so spoilers for that episode)

note: this is a long shot but genuinely if anyone wants to do fanart for this i will love you forever

Cyborgs in Manhattan

Prologue

Things have been happening here since we created the paradox. Manhattan feels like its own little world now, almost closed off from the rest of the Earth, except Rory and I are the only ones who can’t leave. But that’s okay, I think. We’ve created a life here together. I’m a publisher and writer, he’s a doctor, things are good. But like I said, it's still hectic. The angels are gone for now, but other stuff has been going wrong. People going missing, sightings of strange creatures roaming the city, that stuff. And luckily, Rory and I have some experience with this sort of thing. You’re welcome, Manhattan.

“I’ve missed this. Haven’t you missed this?” I ask, glancing up from the manuscript lying limply in my hands.

“Sorry, missed what?” Rory groans, sitting up next to me. The bed creaks as he leans over to turn on his bedside light.

“This, the adventure,” I reply smoothly, taking off my reading glasses to look at him. “Or the anticipation of adventure, more like.”

“Mm, yeah. I guess. Glad we have a more normal life, though. Settling down a bit.”

“You call this normal?” I laugh, gesturing to the room around us. “We were sent back in time to 1938 New York by weeping angels, we can’t leave, and people are going missing!”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he scoffs in response. “Not going on crazy adventures for weeks on end, you know?”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you really don’t miss that, though. Come on, it’s exciting!” He gives me a weary but longing look. I sigh.

“Okay, yes, I’ve felt a bit empty without all that going on,” he chuckles.

“Exactly! Thank you! So you agree now that we have to figure out what exactly is happening?”

“Are we really the only ones who can?” Rory asks tentatively. I give him a sly smile and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. He sighs and rolls his head, but a grin plays at his lips.

“So then tell me, Mrs. Williams, how are we going to solve these mysteries all on our own?”

“We won’t be completely on our own, my dear Mr. Pond.” I hold up the cover of the manuscript I’m proofreading. “We have-”

“Melody Malone…”

--------

Chapter 1

Over the past few days, we’ve been silently taking notes on all the disappearances happening around us. So far, we have:

Some victims have been disappearing and popping up a few weeks later, looking exactly the same as they did when they went missing

Many who came back do not remember anything about the time between their disappearance and their reappearance

People have been reporting sightings of small robotic shape-changers. We haven’t seen any yet, nor have we ever heard of them

Most of the people who went missing have not yet reappeared, and traces of them seem to be slowly disappearing as well (memories, objects, sometimes entire houses)

I’m surprised we haven’t come across any of the robots ourselves yet, considering our repertoire with aliens. But our eyes are peeled. The moment we see one of those little buggers, our work begins. And I have a feeling that said work will be cut out for us.

“Amy?” Rory calls my name from down the hall.

“Yeah?” I pipe back.

“I think… I think you might want to come look at this…” he says, his tone a bit unsure.

“What is it?” I ask as I make my way down the hall.

“Be slow. Don’t want to spook it,” he replies, now whispering.

“Rory, what is i-” I stop just as I’m rounding the corner. A small metallic bird, about the size of a standard adult human head sits very close to Rory’s feet. “Oh.”

“Is it- It’s not one of the robots people have been talking about, is it?”

“I don’t know!” I exclaim in a hushed voice. “I mean, probably, what else would it be? Not like robots are a common occurrence here, yeah?” I crouch down closer to its level and slowly move towards it.

“D’you think that’s the best idea?” Rory whispers.

“Got a better one?”

“Yes, actually! Multiple! We don’t know what this thing is, or does, or-” Before he can finish his sentence, nearly at the speed of light, the robot changes into a hand, a needle shoots out of one of the fingers, and barely in a heartbeat, I am gone.

I don’t know where I am. I can’t see. Are my eyes closed or am I blind? Ohh, I really hope it’s the former. I groan and try to sit up, but I’m held down by something. Clamps?

“I told you the human would try to escape,” an exasperated, raspy voice scolds from beside me. I jump.

“I never disagreed with you!” another voice says from the other side. It sounds offended.

“Will you stop bickering and let me out?” I grumble.

Silence from both of them, then they begin hastily whispering.

“She’s not supposed to do that, is she? Why can she talk?”

“I don’t know! I made sure to put that in the medicine, I don’t know why it didn’t work.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, hi, I can hear you. At least let me see, will you?” No reply.

“I mean, she can be allowed to see, right?” the mellow voice finally whispers.

“Yeah, if you want to risk getting killed, sure.”

“I’m not going to kill you, calm down. Not if you do what I ask,” I mumble.

“Is that a threat? Might not be the best choice in this situation, dear.”

“Give me back my vision and I won’t move a muscle,” I bargain.

I hear a grunt next to me, and angry muttering.

“Better not be lying, human,” the angry voice growls. There’s rustling beside my ear, then light enters my eyes. One overhead light, kind of dim, shines on me. Peering down are two blank faced individuals, both of their skin a musky gray. Their eyes are too cold for them to be fully living creatures. Cyborgs? Probably. Most of their bodies are encased in shiny silver armour, except for their joints, similar to medieval knight’s armour. There’s foreign writing on both of their shoulders. Entirely unrecognizable, clearly an alien language. I squint at it, forcing the blur away. The characters slowly morph into something more readable. Lucky me, the translation effects of the Tardis still work. The writing on the tags read ‘Burol’ - the angry one to my right - and ‘Oscan’ - the mellow one to my left. Based on their dressing, they seem to be warriors.

I clear my throat. “Thank you. Now, what are you?”

“We are the Strox, Miss Pond.”

“Oi, Mrs. Pond to you, wire-brains. What do you want with me? And… how do you know my name?”

“We receive data from each human we collect. But why should we tell you what we want? That wouldn’t be very smart now, would it?”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t, Burol,” I say, smiling.

“You understand Strox?” he asks indignantly.

I pause. Which would get me more likely to get information out of them? The truth - I spent a long time in a Tardis with the last remaining Time Lord - or a very blatant lie - yes, I can read Strox? I shake my head.

“Yeah, I can. Well versed in alien languages, as a matter of fact.” The lie seemed better. Knowing the Doctor’s reputation with getting all creatures everywhere to hate him, this seems like a better bet at avoiding death.

“Hm. Impressive,” Oscan ponders. “And where did you gain this knowledge?”

“I… traveled a lot. Learned a lot of different languages. Had to, you know?”

Burol pulls his comrade aside and they begin harshly whispering. I don’t know if they know I can still hear them.

“She could be useful. What if we kept part of her essence for later? Not an entire vessel, she’d still have her values, but all morals and human decency would be gone, yeah?”

“That,” Oscan replies after a moment, a smirk audible in his voice. “Is brilliant. But how would we do it?”

“Just a moment.” They walk back over and Burol picks up a syringe.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing? Hold on-” I gasp, struggling to break free from my restraints.

“Simply going to put you under, dear Pond. You won’t feel a thing,” he explains, stone cold.

“No, why, what do you want?” I prattle. But he simply ignores me. I don’t have much time until it’s prepared. I need to do something, anything, now. I frantically dig around in my pocket as stealthily as I can, looking for something, anything I can use. My fingers graze a pen, ballpoint.

“Hurry up! Now, do it now!” Oscan yelps. “Before she escapes!”

Panicking, I force my hand through the cuff and jab Burol with the pen in a vulnerable spot on his elbow, catching the syringe as it falls out of his hands. He stumbles back, more surprised than hurt. Syringe still in hand, I attempt to force open the other cuff to no avail. I’ll need to put something together when I get home. I grit my teeth. I better get home.

“Let me out,” I order, holding my weapon pointing directly at Oscan. “I’ll have you know, I am very good at darts.”

Unsure of what else to do, he nods and releases me via a control panel tucked away into a small corner of the metallic room. I give a sigh of relief and defensively swing off the bed, glaring daggers at the Strox. But my anger quickly dissipates and morphs into fear and… sadness. Ahead of me are dozens of beds similar to mine, with motionless bodies lying atop them.

“Are they… dead?” I ask hesitantly, walking slowly towards them.

I turn to face the Strox. Burol grunts, holding his elbow. Strox flesh is very vulnerable, noted.

“What use would dead humans be to us? We’re not disgusting, we don’t leave corpses down here strapped down to beds as if they’ll come alive,” he growls mockingly.

“I beg to differ. You are pretty disgusting. Are you experimenting on them?” I ask. No response. Of course they are. They themselves are cyborgs. Light shines off metal on the bodies, bouncing around the cavernous room. No, not experimenting - changing them, modifying them. Making them into warriors just as they are. Is there a war? No…

“You were talking about my essence and using me as a vessel. What does that mean?” I demand.

“Look around you, Ms. Pond, what do you think?”

Motionless bodies being turned into cyborgs. ‘Essence’. ‘Vessels’. I groan.

“You’re creating an army,” I reply simply. “And you’re using human bodies as your soldiers. And… you want me as one of them.”

Oscan chuckles. “Smart girl. You were right,” he says to Burol. “She could be a very valuable asset.”

“Not a goddamn chance,” I snap back.

“Feisty one, eh?” Oscan laughs. “Admirable of you to think you really can do anything to keep yourself - or any of these humans - safe. Don’t understand what you think you can do.”

“Oh, you will,” I laugh.

“And why is that?”

“I know why you’re here. Why you started here instead of anywhere else on Earth. The paradox, yeah? Well, guess who created it!” I point to myself. “Might just be a human, but I am one hell of a woman.”

“Ahhh, I see.” Oscan grins, satisfaction on his cold face. “Just another reason why we could use you,” he purrs.

“And a reason why you won’t. I am getting out of here and if either of you try to stop me, I will use these.” I brandish the syringe in one hand and pen in the other, reminding them of what I have.

“Either of us, sure, but what about the rest of them?”

I freeze, and slowly turn around. The people that were once lying down are now standing, the same blank expressions on their faces as the Strox. Each of them are in various states of disarray, some barely even human at this point. Home feels a little further away right now.

--------

Chapter 2

“Amy! No!” Rory cries out, grasping at the air as his wife disappears in front of him. “Not again, come on… Why take her? You were so close to me, so why her?” He smacks his hand on the cold wooden floor, exhaling angrily. “I am not letting this happen. I’m coming for you, Amy, I promise.”

Rory stands up shakily and runs his fingers through his hair.

“What do I do? God, what do I do?” he mutters frantically. His boots clunk on the floor as he paces back and forth, then stop suddenly, almost stumbling backwards with the force of his realization. He rushes to his room, tearing the sheets off the bed, rifling through each and every drawer.

“There, yes, thank God,” he pants, yanking out Amy’s manuscript from beneath a pile of papers. “Please have a number written on here…” He flips to the last page, unconsciously crossing his fingers. A number is written on it, scrawled in black marker.

“Okay, okay…” he mumbles, rushing back to the living room, manuscript in hand, and dials the number. “Please pick up, River, please…”

Melody Malone sits in her dimly lit office, comfortably awaiting a phone call. Her silvery stilettos rest on the desk in front of her as she leans back in her chair, skimming a newspaper. An unlit cigarette hangs limply from her lower lip - she prefers not to smoke, but she does like the aesthetic of it. Especially in the mid 20th century, when everyone smokes. She taps her nails on the desk, swinging her legs down, just as the phone rings.

“Angel Detective Agency,” she answers.

“Melody- River- Melody,” the voice on the other end practically yells into the speaker.

“River, yes,” she replies coolly.

“This is, uh, Rory, sorry, hi. Amy’s gone missing, you know those robot… things? We found one today, in our house, and it took her and I don’t know where-”

“Yes, I know,” River chuckles, fiddling with a cuff on her wrist.

“Well then I need you to come over and help me get her back, and preferably fix this once and for all- hello?” Light flashes in the office, and River is gone, leaving the phone barely hung up.

“Did she just- hang up on me?” Rory asks himself, more confused than anything.

“Well, yes and no,” River’s voice rings out through the door. Without a word, Rory opens it, a look of astonishment overtaking his face.

“Vortex manipulator. You may not be able to time travel or space travel, but I can. Easy,” she explains. “Now, what do you suggest we do?”

“Probably… find another of those robots, yeah? Let ourselves be taken and find our way back with Amy, while also defeating whatever’s doing this, or something.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. As a matter of fact, I have one with me. I temporarily shut it down, but that can be fixed.” She reaches into the pocket of her trench coat and pulls out a sonic screwdriver.

“Did the Doctor give you that?” Rory asks as she works on restoring the robot.

“He will. It should work now. Let it prick you, it’ll do everything else on its own from there.”

Rory shudders. “Have you been studying these?”

“Just this one. Only one I could get my hands on and control without getting taken myself. It should activate any minute now, get ready.”

Exactly as she predicts, it transforms into a hand, just what it did for Amy, and shoots them both with needles. They disappear with a flash, and the house is empty.

--------

Chapter 3

“Stay back!” I yell, wielding my only protection at arm’s length.

“Or what?” Burol replies, grinning as much as an emotionless face can.

“Yes, or what?” the emptied people repeat, all in unison. A hivemind. That’s not creepy at all.

“Or…” I clear my throat. “Or I will attack!”

“And what good that will do, right, Amelia?” A shiver runs up my spine.

“Don’t… call me that,” I order.

“Ooh, hit a nerve there, mm? Is that not your name?” Oscan asks softly.

“Not anymore. Not to you,” I growl, hiding my fear behind a brutal wall of anger. But they’re moving closer and I am surrounded. There is no possible way that I can escape. Mass of cyborgs on all sides of me, except behind. Which is backed up by a thick metal wall. Or a door. God, please be a door.

Before I can check, a robotic voice comes over the intercom.

“New life forms detected. Dissertation: Human. Please stand by, collection will begin shortly.” Momentarily, all the cyborgs stop and stare at the Strox.

“AMY!” a voice yells from the other side of the wall. Rory. Oh thank God.

“Do not let them open the door,” Burol snarls at Oscan. He nods.

“Shouldn’t have let me know that this is a door,” I chuckle. “RORY! OPEN THE DOOR!”

“Do NOT let them open it!” Burol yells again, louder.

“ON IT!” With a shriek, it slides open behind me.

“See you on the other side, suckers!” I yell triumphantly, falling backwards into the next room. The doors close automatically, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Amy! You’re okay, oh my God, you’re okay,” Rory says, his body relaxing a bit more when he sees me. He helps me up and I pull him into a quick kiss.

“Ohhh, I missed you,” I mumble, holding him as tight as he’s holding me. High heels clack from behind him and I peer over his shoulder.

“Hello, River,” I gasp. Now is not the time for smiling, but I can’t help it.

“Very glad you’re safe.” I break away from Rory to give her a warm hug.

“So am I.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and turn to face the door.

“What… are those things, exactly?” Rory asks abruptly.

“Strox,” River and I say in unison.

“You’ve heard of them?” I ask her.

“Briefly. Heard their name spread around the galaxy, used to hear stories about them. Used to be an incentive to keep kids good - ‘if you’re not good, the Strox will come and conquer!’” she quotes.

“Well, what do they do? What do they want?” Rory questions.

“From what I could gauge, they want to colonize Earth. I’m assuming they feed on paradox energy or use it as some other source of strength - and we all know this city is full of it. They’re cyborgs trying to turn other people into cyborgs. And taking out all human essence to… empty the bodies for good use.”

“Empty the bodies… what does that mean?” Rory inquires.

“Well, I think by ‘essence’, they mean the soul. They mentioned doing it to me but only removing my morality. So essentially, to have the perfect warrior, they take out the soul and leave the body empty for something new to put in.”

“Like daleks or cybermen,” River interjects.

“How much time do you reckon we have?” Rory mutters, leaning back against a wall.

“Well, judging by the noise they’re making out there,” River raises her eyebrows. “I’d say about ten minutes.” She turns to me. “Estimate of how many there are?”

A pained expression takes over my face. “More than 20. All in varying states of robot.”

Rory groans and puts his head in his hands. A visible chill runs up River’s spine.

“Okay. Okay, well, what do we do? How do we- how do we stop them?” Rory rambles.

“I… have no idea. But we must do something, right? We’ve seen our future, we live after this, so we don’t die here or now. And if we don’t die now, that means no one else does, right?”

“But time can be rewritten,” he mumbles.

“Only if we want it to be. So come on, think!” I rub my temples, pacing back and forth, ignoring the pulsing pain in my hand. “We can’t use time travel, I doubt we can fight them by hand, so what else can we do? What other options do we have?” I mumble.

“Well… I have a sonic screwdriver. Probably should have mentioned that earlier,” River chimes in, holding up her sonic.

“Do you think it could disable the technology of the Strox?”

“Not for very long, but yes.”

“Perfect. I have a plan,” I say, grinning.

--------

Chapter 4

“When the door sounds like it’s about to burst down, get ready. River, you sonic the two Strox, it’s a hivemind so I think they control the people. Rory, you come with me to the control panel and keep an eye on all of them. Finding out how to shut everything down shouldn’t take too long, if I press enough buttons it’ll probably ruin the system. Let me know if they start waking up. If they do, we run. If they don’t and I get the systems scrambled in time, we can probably take control of the mechanics and therefore the Strox, and get them to return all souls back to the people down here.” I pause, and take a deep breath. “If that’s even possible.”

River and Rory nod. The banging on the door grows louder, then stops altogether. Eyes wide, my gaze meets Rory and River’s.

“What are they do-” River begins, rudely interrupted by the metal melting rapidly into a puddle on the floor, hardening just as quickly. “Ah. Will this still work?”

“Well,” I chuckle nervously. “We better damn well hope so. Go!”

River sprints towards the Strox, sonic screwdriver held at arm’s length, at full power. As she nears the Strox, the cyborgs all shut down at once, twitching.

“Yes! Oh, I am so glad that worked,” I laugh. “Okay, Rory, with me.” He nods, and I grab his hand, pulling him along. We shove through the mob of cyborgs to the control panel and stand back to back. “Alright, how does this thing work?” I mutter. “Really wish there were big red buttons on things…” I take a deep breath and begin pressing buttons, completely at random.

“You’re sure this will work?” Rory mutters.

“First thing I learned from the Doctor: always press buttons. Something’s bound to happen.”

“Amy, they’re waking up,” Rory whispers shakily.

“No, no, no, not yet, please…” I mumble. I smack the side of the console and groan. “Hold on- there’s a button down here.” I run my fingers along the edge of it and clench my fists before furiously pressing it. All at once, everything shuts down - the cyborgs stop once again, the internal locks click open, lights turn off. It seems like, out of all the technology here, the Strox are the only ones still functioning.

“No! What have you done?” Burol yells.

“Stopped you little buggers, that’s what we’ve done,” I reply. “Now, you’re going to tell me how to restore these people, if it’s even possible.”

Burol sighs. “If we return their souls to them, there is a chance that they will die. And do you really want that, Amelia Pond?”

“Well, what’s the other chance?”

“The robotic parts will cease to function and their organic bodies will be restored. But it is a much smaller chance.”

“I’ll take it. Better than letting them just die without even trying to do anything. So do it.”

Burol cocks his head at us questioningly, as if to challenge us. River clears her throat and brandishes her sonic screwdriver. It glistens in the light. He meets her eyes for a moment, then surrenders.

“Come with us.”

“Good. But you are going to be very closely monitored, got that?” I warn.

We set off, both of the Strox closely tailed by River and Rory.

We come to a door at the end of a long hallway, and it opens seemingly on its own.

“In here. Keep them in bottles,” Oscan introduces.

“How do we get them to their rightful places?”

“They’ll know where to go. But remember, if they all die, it will be your fault.”

I scoff. “Life is full of hard decisions, this is just one of the harder ones. I know what I’m doing, now shut it.”

I gingerly pick one of the bottles up and examine it. It’s tightly sealed with a cork. Slowly, I open it, and a blue mist seeps out, making a beeline down the corridor and back to the cyborgs.

“If this works, you two leave. I know you have some kind of technology in you. Cyborgs usually do,” I growl at the two Strox. They nod.

I make sure Rory and River still have the Strox trapped with the syringe and screwdriver, then chase after the light, just in time to see it enter the body of one young man. A glow emanates from under his skin, and he straightens up with a loud gasp, then collapses.

“Don’t die, please don’t die,” I whisper, rushing over to him. Slowly, the metal unattaches itself from his skin, and his body repairs itself in the places that it was modified. I lower my head to listen. He’s breathing. Oh thank God, he’s breathing. I let out a sigh of relief and stand up.

“It worked!” I call out. “It worked… release the rest of them!”

The first sound that reaches my ears is a loud zap - the Strox leaving. Then the distant sound of corks popping out of bottles. I smile. Did we just… save Manhattan? No, don’t get ahead of yourself, Amy. We still have to make sure the rest of them are okay. Blue light streams in, illuminating the dark room with a soft glow, and gradually, all of the cyborgs regain their humanity. The last cork pops as the last bottle is opened, and Rory and River run in, now on their own. I look behind me and meet their eyes with a soft, triumphant smile.

“It’s… beautiful,” River whispers.

“It’s life,” I reply. “I suppose that is beautiful. Did you know that this is what life looks like?”

River walks up in front of me, staring wistfully at the light. “Yes. 200 years, I’ve had the chance to see life itself, yet it never fails to amaze me. You can hear them. Their souls, their essence, their… hope. Each and every individual.” She pauses. “The first time I saw it was with the Doctor. In a situation similar to this, I think. He was astounded, as was I. 2000 years, and yet it never failed to amaze him as it did the first time. He’s funny like that, you know. Sees every experience as something new and beautiful, even if he’s seen it a hundred, a thousand times,” she continues.

Slowly, the last of the light reenters the last of the bodies, and she turns to face us. I look down at the ground and sniffle. Am I crying? A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it off. I suppose I am. Was. I clear my throat and turn away, not letting River see.

“Well. We need to get back up. River, can you scan for an internal teleport?”

“Yes.” She switches on the sonic and scans the room. “That lever, I believe, turns it on. If I can modify it, it should take everyone back to where they need to be - namely, these people.”

River walks up to the control panel and briefly studies the lever, then sonics it.

“Ready?” I ask.

Rory and River nod, and I pull the lever.

It’s dark out now, which is probably best, considering we just appeared out of nowhere.

“We ought to go. New Yorkers may never sleep, but I’ll be damned if they’re not diligent,” River mentions.

“You can come back to our place, if you like. Relax a bit,” Rory offers. I nod.

“Thank you, but I must be going. Places to be, men to see.”

I laugh quietly. “Tell him we say hi,” I whisper. “Thank you for helping us. Don’t be a stranger.”

She gives each of us a quick hug, then flicks a switch on her Vortex manipulator and disappears. I sigh and grab Rory’s hand, holding it in a firm grip. We walk under the dim streetlamps towards our apartment complex quietly. It’s not so bad being stuck here, not with him. He makes it all better.

taglist (ask to be added): @riddlersboyfriend @totallyeuphoric

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Hello! I was wondering if I could request a little something about the Doctor. I was thinking something along the lines of the Doctors first kiss with the reader, their first ‘I love you’s, first hugs and maybe like first time opening up to each other to have that bond? Obviously not in that order lol just regular fluff and happiness with the Doctor! Thanks!

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Milestones" - The Doctor x Reader

A/N: written with 11 in mind bc he's my favourite but honestly picture whoever you want

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

First hug

"Hey, you doing alright?" you asked quietly. Honestly, you knew the question was more than ridiculous - it was just an inelegant, slightly awkward icebreaker after what you've been through. Although it hasn't been long, barely a few hours, you've quickly learned that he was a prodigy at putting on a brave face. Someone so adamant about making sure everyone lives couldn't just brush off the abrupt end of innocent life. It simply didn't make sense.

"Yeah, sure, I'm doing fine," he answered in a reassuring and lighthearted tone. "Are you okay?"

Despite his best efforts at appearing completely unmoved, you could easily tell he was being dishonest - there was that haunted look in his eyes as if the moment he remembers he was an intelligent entity cursed with compassion and melancholy his tears would melt away his corporeal form. It was like capturing a storm in a plastic bag.

His eyes met yours in a questioning manner: he really was more interested in your well-being rather than the albatross hanging from his neck. It was a strange moment to choose selflessness. After a moment of silence, his stare went back to the console and the buttons he was pushing. You continued to watch him, thinking about the hypothetical sorrow gnawing at his thoughts. Maybe you didn't know him for long, it was difficult to claim you'd known him at all but he definitely didn't seem like someone heartless; the Doctor was many things but cold-hearted was not one of them.

The Doctor looked at you again but for a significantly shorter period as if he could tell by your expression that you weren't buying his facade. Consciously or not, his expression fell, revealing the somberness he tried to hide away.

"Come here."

Pulling him by his arm, you engulfed the Doctor in an embrace. Immediately, he tightly held you close to him, his hands fisting the material of your sweatshirt. It was a strange thing that people let go when they're holding on to someone.

"It's not easy, so don't pretend like it is," you quietly said against his shoulder. The tweed jacket was slightly coarse against your skin, pleasantly keeping you aware of the present moment. "You might not be human but you sure are humane. I know that."

He didn't answer but truthfully, he didn't have to - you knew exactly what was going on when his arms shifted around you, still holding you as close as one holds a fleeting dream of a love long gone.

Opening up

The Doctor was fixing something under the main console. Cables dangled around him, sparks of electricity revealed that the current was still on and any unwise move could have catastrophic consequences. He, however, seemed to be unfazed. It was an impression of him you were still getting used to - a man both hot and cold, simultaneously emotional and rid of all passions.

"Do you ever get scared?"

Momentarily, the Doctor stopped whatever it was he was doing. He looked at you with a grimace of confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, running around dangerous places, getting stuck at the end of the world in hopeless situations. Do you ever get scared?"

"Sometimes, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just..." For a moment you considered dropping the subject. Would your worries be a little too human, a little too mundane, for him to understand? "I know I get scared, don't even need aliens for that to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I love travelling with you but so many times I find myself in situations where I don't know what to do, I just want to close my eyes and wish the danger away. If you too get scared then maybe I'm not as wimpy as I thought I was."

"Wimpy?" he asked. You gently nodded your head. "Wimpy?" he repeated louder and with more confusion resounding in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows not understanding what he was getting at. "You're not wimpy, why would you think that?"

"Because I get scared?"

Something about your statement must have struck a significant string in his heart as the Doctor got out from under the console and stood up. His eyebrows were furrowed and you knew that he was adamant to get to the bottom of whatever snake what biting at your heels.

"Scared is good. Scared means you care. You have something to lose. It's very human of you actually."

"When you're scared you never... look scared, at least I can't tell. You just do what you have to do and save the day as if it was just a walk in the park. How do you do that?"

"Because I have something to lose," he answered with a shrug before examining something on the top part of the console. The clicking of buttons echoed throughout the room.

"Which is?"

For a moment he didn't answer and just tapped away on the various controls and keyboards only he could understand. Slowly, his actions came to a halt. The Doctor turned his head to look at you, brave enough only to say one word before going back to fixing some failure in the machinery:

"You." He had that melancholic look in his eyes that he so often wore when he revealed some of his hearts' content. The Doctor's answer surprised you. It seemed so... simple. Mundane to the point of being strange.

Maybe you too had a good reason to both be scared and brave.

First kiss

"You're not actually considering going down there," you said as you looked down the maintenance shaft. It was so dark one could only wonder how far the bottom was. A low groan echoed throughout that seemingly endless metal pit.

"We're kind of out of options. Come on, it's an adventure! I'll be fine."

You weren't sure if his lighthearted mood was a sign of confidence or stupidity - a certain lack of realization of his chances of survival.

"Looks more lik a one way ticket to me."

"Nonsense," he dismissed your worries. "It's just a dead-end road. Have to make a U-turn at the end and you're on your way home. Easy-peasy!"

It was quite clear he wasn't going to negotiate his own plan filled with insanity and a ridiculous amount of sheer luck.

"Just..." you began but promptly stopped, momentarily overwhelmed by the very real possibility of him not coming back. And what were you to do then? A deep sigh left your lips before you finished your thought. "Just come back to me."

Without thinking much, realizing that this could very well be the last time you see that madman, you grabbed his clothes and pulled him in. His lips crashed against yours and the joy this passion brought was very much like fireworks: intense and burning but over a little too soon for the desperate heart to satisfy its yearning. You feel the same longing in his own movements, although it's significantly more reserved as if he was holding back, not yet ready to let the addictive feeling consume him.

"Well, now I have to," he murmured under his breath.

First "I love you"

"Alright, so what do you need?" you asked in a hurried tone. You were running out of time and the alarm siren did not make it any easier to focus on the task at hand. In fact, the longer you were inside the engineering deck, among red emergency lights and deafening sirens, the more you began to panic. The water flooding the ship made you aware of your own mortality with each wave brushing against your legs.

"I'd need another one of those gem things, the internal structure of the crystal makes it an excellent electricity conductor."

"Like... graphite?"

"Yes! Like graphite!"

Suddenly, you became aware of the rumbled sudoku notebook in the back pocket of your jeans. You shoved it in there along with a pencil when the Doctor flew right by you yelling at you to start running. It was fascinating what kind of pastimes travelling with the Doctor made you pick up.

"You're not going to believe this," you told him between chuckles. As if you were pulling a rabbit out of a magician's hat, you showed the pencil to the Doctor.

His face immediately lit up. He grabbed your face before kissing your forehead. "I love you!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

Then he snatched the pencil from your hand and turned around to run in the direction of the engines. The Doctor ran maybe a few meters before making a sudden turn - for some reason, he had to return to you. There was something strange about how he looked at you as if he saw something more than you; like he had life-changing knowledge he never dared to share with you.

"I mean it," he said in a serious tone while vaguely pointing his finger at you.

Before you could answer him or even ask for clarification, he was already back on track with his near-miraculous plan of saving the day.

"Right back at you, you crazy old man," you said under your breath.

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hacked-by-jake · 2 years

Note

Funny that episode 10 went almost exactly as I had imagined it in my head, from the culprit to the ending. With the exception that the culprit's relationship with Hannah and his personality was much more sinister in my imagined version. I want to write it down to make it darker, (because the feelings I have for ep10 is really igniting my creative juices) but I worry I will disrespect ep 10 :/

Jaa, same. I actually expected some more confused ways and connections between Hannah and the MWAF but nevertheless it was super interesting and therefore surprised me once again that it ended this way. In my opinion, Everbyte still managed the perfect turn to surprise us.

But please don’t say you could disrespect episode 10, that’s not true, absolutely not, if you want to write, do it! And don’t let that stop you. Otherwise I would not write any more because my personal opinion would be that I then insulted the whole game in which I wrote and posted my fanfictions. xD But really, please don’t say that and if you want to write something, do it! Fanfictions are wonderful. Because we write down our thoughts and there can be absolutely nothing wrong with it!! Do it! :D

And I’m so sorry that I’m only answering now, I hope it’s still a topic for you. But I meant it, if you want to write something, do it. <3

#dw anon ask #hbj answers #dw fanfiction #dw episode 10 #<3<3<3<3<3<3

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theangelshavethephonebox · 2 months

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hurt/comfort with 11 and Dhawan!Master for your drabble prompts? pretty please?

Of course my liege *bows* as you wish (:

Tweed and purple running side by side, dashing past the laser-shots. Tweed was always faster than purple.

“O? O, where are you?” He was hiding behind a dumpster, waiting, then — “I’m here, I’m here” He crashed into the other man as he dove for cover, and their minds connected in a flash of whirling colour.

“Oh” “That’s my name, don’t —” He began, then stopped, knowing the jig was up. “It’s really you” “Not the last anymore. Not that you ever were when we ran” The Master joked, but it came out hollow.

“I never meant to leave you behind”

(100 words isn’t enough but like. You can ~imagine~ the comfort that follows! Or more pain. Sorry. I can write something longer if you want) (I'll post this on AO3 soon too)

#dr who #dw #doctor who #the master #the doctor #dhawan!master #spydoc #dw fanfiction #thoschei #doctor who fanfiction #drabble #the eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x dhawan!Master #11/spy #11/Dhawan!Master

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riversofmars · 2 years

Text

Time for a new A Numbers Game chapter and I finally got around to making a proper poster for the fic as well!!

Chapter 18 under the cut or on AO3 <3

Emotional climax. Heart warming resolution. Sweet catharsis. If the only point of the story had been to fill you in on how Helen and I finally took a leap of faith after skirting the edge for so long, you could say we have reached something of a conclusion. It has been quite the story and I have kept you for a long time already but I would ask you to stick with us a little longer. There are matters that have yet to be resolved: the issue of the Daleks’ hold on planet Earth for a start, the problem of us being stranded in the twenty-first century and, unfortunately, the issue of Helen’s inexperience and self-consciousness about following her heart.

While I lack the words to describe how happy her decision to explore our romantic feelings for each other made me, it didn’t take away the stab of pain I felt when she hurriedly pulled away to the sound of our friends returning. Surely the Doctor and River were the last people she needed to worry about as both of them were well aware of the feelings I harboured for her, but her reaction was so quick that it seemed instinctual. It made sense. It would take time to unlearn her fears and worries, and while I would give her all the time in the world to figure things out, it didn’t hurt any less.

“How are you two getting on?” River questioned upon their return.

“Fine. Helen is about to learn a thing or two about sutures.” I judged it best to see to what we should have dealt with already: my other more severely injured arm. I sought to meet Helen’s eyes but she kept them cast down, fumbling with the first aid kit to look busy. Her cheeks had pinked with embarrassment and I ignored my own emotions for her benefit. I pulled the medical supplies away from her with my bandaged arm and started looking for a suture kit.

“I could give you a hand if you’d rather, it certainly wouldn’t be my first attempt,” River offered off-handedly and while I was in no way surprised that River Song had had need and opportunity to suture someone - or possibly herself -, I could do without her getting more practice in on me.

“I’d rather do it myself, thanks,” I answered, focused on the equipment in front of me.

“Suit yourself,” River hummed as she circled around the table for a better look. “But you may need someone to prepare the needle for you,” she hummed and I rolled my eyes.

“Helen, could you…” I pointed out what I needed help with and Helen blinked, startled out of her stupor.

“Of course,” she offered hurriedly. I exchanged a glance with River who seemed to sense there was something going on. As with so many things, she likely had a sixth sense for it. She didn’t comment, even as Helen proved clumsy with the needle and thread.

“Find anything interesting?” I asked to steer the conversation into safe waters while I struggled into a rubber glove with my right hand. I tried to muster my professionalism and ignore the pulling pain on my bandaged arm with every movement of my hand.

“Certainly not the worst place to crash-land in,” the Doctor answered and dropped an armful of equipment - all manner of technology: computer parts, comms equipment and tools - onto the other end of the table. I frowned at the mess, confused about its purpose.

“As we had hoped, there are several military vehicles around,” River added.

“Unfortunately, they’re bust. We will need to see what we can salvage to get one to work. So once you’re done in here…” the Doctor carried on almost absent-mindedly as she started rummaging around the pile of spare parts.

“Nothing would make me happier,” I answered sarcastically, drawing up a syringe with local anaesthetic, a neat one-handed trick any med-tech who’d ever worked in in emergency care had to have down. “And what will you be doing?”

“Well, while you try to get that car to work, I’m going to need to build a new dampener, something to hide us. Cover of darkness will not be enough,” she explained as she started pulling apart radio transmitters.

“Hope it works better than the last one,” I huffed with the intention of distracting myself as much as I could without losing my professional focus. Helen, meanwhile, grimaced as I injected my arm with anaesthetic. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience but it would be far better than suturing without it.

“I’m sure we will figure something out,” River smiled. “We ought to be on the lookout for Dalek patrols. I imagine we will be safe here for the time being but we shouldn’t take any chances. I’ll take the first watch?” She offered, looking around expectantly.

“We have a good few hours till nightfall,” the Doctor added.

“Plenty of time then,” I concluded as I took the needle to my skin. Helen reached out, grabbed my hand to steady the injured arm that I’d twisted around for a better view. I glanced up for a moment and while she looked insecure and awkwardly avoided my eyes, her fingers brushed mine in a gentle, reassuring caress that did plenty to put me at ease.

—

We all set about busying ourselves: River had gone outside to scout the terrain, the Doctor was making something out of nothing, cannibalising every item of technology she could find and Helen and I finished the task of seeing to my wounds. Once I’d got going, the suturing took no time at all, and shortly after Helen was wrapping up my arm in another bandage. While I was quite the sight with my matching bandages, I felt a whole lot better than before. The sting had lessened and the dressings were doing their job. Given the fact we heal quickly where I’m from, it would probably only be a few days before I’d see significant improvement and be back to normal.

“Right, let’s see about a car…” I stood and the Doctor looked up.

“Just out the back, there is a little courtyard between the building units. There are several old trucks and such by a garage, plenty of tools too, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ll come and help once I’m done with this,” she explained and as if on cue, the device she was putting together shot off sparks.

“I imagine I’ll be done before you are at this rate,” I commented in amusement and exchanged a look with Helen who chuckled.

“And I guess I’ll gather provisions for the onward journey,” she added and we all nodded in agreement.

Thus we went our separate ways, setting about our allotted tasks and I found myself alone with my thoughts at last. As I looked for the way out of the barracks, my brian finally caught up with the fact that Helen and I had discussed and acted on our feelings that were far from one-sided. I could have jumped for joy and did my best to reign in my emotions to a joyful grin. Even if I was still sad about the way Helen had pulled away the moment our friends had returned, one important fact remained and overrode any negative emotion the longer I had to think on it: Helen was in love with me. She had said it, clear as day, laid her heart bare and allowed me to understand the things I had struggled with for so long. We had a chance. Finally. We had kissed and my lips tingled at the memory. It was difficult to turn my mind to the job at hand when I got to the courtyard the Doctor had described.

The sun stood much lower now with evening approaching, but dry desert heat remained once I stepped outside. We had crashed in an open area that was mostly classic sand and tundra, an open plain, and the heat was a lot less humid than it had been in the jungle and therefore far more pleasant for me. It was quite similar to Kaldor and I was pleased to find that it wouldn’t be a bother as I found the broken down cars the Doctor had referred to. They were trucks rather than just cars, big and bulky with obvious damages. Luckily, twenty-first century technology is relatively easy to figure out and as the Doctor had promised, there were a lot of tools and equipment about.

There was one big downside however…

“Ouch! Bastard!” I swore under my breath and dropped the wrench. It nearly hit my head as I was lying under the truck to effect repairs and had lost my grip on it. I groaned exasperated and closed my eyes for a moment while taking a deep breath. My forearms were protesting in the strongest terms. They didn’t do well under the strain and I was worried about tearing my stitches. I had gotten as far as to work out which truck was in the best condition, what needed fixing, even had the spare parts but doing the repairs included accessing the underside of the car and wielding heavy tools, something that was quite the challenge in my current state.

“How are you doing down there?”

The voice came out of nowhere and made me jump. I jolted upright and - of course - knocked right into the underside of the car.

“Fucking hell-!” I cursed and groaned. That was all I needed. I rubbed my head, a dump already forming under my hairline, as I pulled myself out from under the truck.

“Oh God, Liv, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Helen had clasped her hands over her mouth, looking extremely guilty when she laid eyes upon me.

“It’s fine…” I sighed as I couldn’t really be mad at all. I would have startled either way, no matter how she had made her presence known, and the expression of concern on her face was utterly endearing.

“Let me have a look…” she offered and knelt down beside me where I sat up. She reached out to brush my hair back before I could protest.

“Just 'cause you got to do first aid once-” I retorted teasingly but didn’t object. Her hand felt lovely in my hair and made me forget all about the small incident. “I’m fine,” I assured her with a smile. It was quite remarkable how the tension that had existed between us for days had dissipated entirely. With the air cleared and consensus reached, we fell back into the comfortable rhythm that had made us grow close in the first place.

“Are you sure about that?” She frowned with genuine concern and her eyes turned from my head to my hands. I followed her glance and realised what she was referring to: Blood had come up in dark splodges in several places across my bandages. It wasn’t exactly surprising, given the discomfort my efforts had put me in.

“Okay, that’s not… damn…” I huffed, annoyed more than concerned. It was an inconvenience. The healing process would take longer if the cuts kept opening. “Think I nearly ripped my stitches…” I turned my left arm and was pleased to find that the dressing was still relatively clean. If the stitches had ripped, I would have been able to see.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Helen asked, turning her attention towards the truck.

“Not got much of a choice. We have to get going at some point. I can fix it, it’s just… my arms…” I gave a sigh of frustration. There wasn’t even that much to do still if I could will my arms into holding up the tools properly.

“Can I help?” She offered after brief consideration and I raised my eyebrows.

“Do you know anything about fixing vehicles?” I questioned, knowing full well that that would be a ‘no’ but her answer was far more determined than I had expected:

“No but I didn’t know anything about dressing wounds until earlier either,” she pointed out and I was ever so glad to see her confidence returning, her quiet strength that I would so gladly submit to. “You’ll just have to tell me what to do. We can do it together.”

“Alright,” I smiled and she did too. When she set her mind to something, who was I to argue? “Together then. Let me show you where I got up to.” And with that I leaned down once more to slide back under the car. Helen joined me without delay or complaint.

As with most things, she was a quick study. All I had to do was point her in the right direction and she took to it like a fish to water. The space underneath the car was cramped, hardly made for two people but we made do. It was a lovely feeling to be working on something together, each of us contributing in our own way. We work perfectly as a team, we always have and that was further proof.

—

“That should do it,” I grinned and nudged Helen affectionately as she lowered her tools and took a deep breath. It was incredibly hot underneath the truck and about time we came up for air. I pushed myself out from under the vehicle first, making room for her as she followed suit.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she commented with a sigh of relief, emerging the conquering hero as she pulled herself out from under the car. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead in an effort to rid herself of the sweat that had gathered there. As I helped her to her feet I could - and should - have told her that she had just smeared motor oil all across her face in the process but I wasn’t entirely in possession of all of my faculties if I’m being perfectly honest. There is something incredibly attractive about a capable woman getting hot and bothered while repairing heavy machinery. I am only human and Helen is an incredibly attractive woman. I might have been staring.

She was fanning herself some air and my mind jumped to how I would have liked to help her out of the blouse that was sticking to her, but I feared that would be crossing lines too soon. So I opted for handing her a bottle of water instead that she had brought along earlier.

“Thanks,” she smiled and gestured for me to inspect her handiwork. “Try it out?” She prompted me out of my stupor of admiring her and started unscrewing the bottle. I jumped to action - if somewhat haphazardly - and climbed into the driver’s seat.

To my delight the motor started up when I turned the key. We had done it! It was one worry off my mind and I breathed a sigh of relief. While we were safe for the time being, we were no help whatsoever to our friends in London and the rest of the world. We had to get back as soon as possible. I cast my eyes out to the horizon across the desert. The sun was setting. It would be dark soon. We had made the repairs just in time and should be able to leave in a few hours at the latest. The Doctor would be pleased.

I gave Helen a grin and a thumbs up before turning the truck off again.

“Well done, couldn’t have done it better myself,” I complimented her and she blushed but smiled.

One thing you should know about Helen Sinclair is that for a long time, she never thought herself good enough. I think it has a lot to do with the time and place she was raised in and the way her father, in particular, treated her and her mother. In the 60s women were not considered capable of so many things, which seems utterly ludicrous to me; Helen is one of the most intelligent, capable people I know. It took her a long time to realise that her contributions were welcome, and that she was as much a member of our team as the Doctor and I. She always tried so hard to do right and fit in and pull her weight, unable to see her own worth and that fact that she was doing brilliantly. She was wanted, appreciated and accepted, and above all: she was enough, just the way she was. I always, still, feel a little sting of sadness when I witness her putting herself down or find her unable to take the credit she is due.

Perhaps, I considered, it was part of the reason why she had never been able to speak up for herself with me, even once she had figured out her feelings. Maybe she just didn’t feel worthy of the same love and attention as other people and the thought twisted up my insides, bringing a wave of nausea and worry. I wished she could see herself the way I did: as utterly brilliant, beautiful, funny, capable… and quite simply worthy of all the love and adoration I could possibly give her.

I swung myself out of the truck, jumped down in front of Helen and didn’t waste another moment on thoughts of concern. I grabbed hold of her hips and manoeuvred her around, gently but urgently, and she gave an endearing gasp of surprise when her back collided with the truck. She looked at me wide-eyed for a moment but I simply flashed her a smitten grin, swept up in the realisation that given our confessions, this was something I was well within my rights to do. Now that the heightened emotions had drained away somewhat, they had left a state of quiet wonder and hope for the future, something I wanted to savour and hopefully build upon with small but steady steps. And so I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to Helen’s more firmly and confidently than before. Where before it had been a case of “may I please?”, this was more of a “how about this, isn’t this nice?”. Helen’s response was less nervous this time around. Her lips curled into a tentative smile and she kissed me back. Her hands found the base of my neck and held me close, assurance enough I needn’t fear she’d run.

I leaned into her body, delighted in the way we fit together as I had almost assumed we would. It felt natural; it felt right; and I was growing light-headed in Helen’s presence. I brushed my tongue against the seam of her lips, eager for more and her response, while reluctant, was welcoming. She parted her lips and I kissed her slowly and more deeply, brushing my tongue to hers.

Now, I can’t speak to Helen’s previous experiences. While I know she’s never kissed a woman before now, I don’t know what her experiences with men would have been like. I didn’t want to rush her but I also couldn’t get enough of her. I had waited for this for so long and to think everything I wanted was well within reach was incredibly alluring.

“Liv-” Helen’s voice was shaky and breathless when we parted for air.

“Sorry…” I hummed and rested my forehead against hers. “I know this is going to take some getting used to for you but- now that-” I bit my lip nervously, worried Helen would put me in my placer over my forwardness but I needn’t have feared.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink and a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Is it?” I asked softly and she nodded as her fingers toyed with the hair at the back of my neck.

“Yes,” she confirmed and met my eyes if only for a moment. They fluttered shut when I grasped the lovely opportunity and kissed her once more. I was eager to make up for lost time and as Helen matched my enthusiasm with her own, I lost myself in the sensation. I pushed myself closer to her still and slowly, her inhibitions seemed to be breaking away. That time, she took the initiative and sought entrance to my mouth and I was only too glad to oblige. Her hands pushed into my hair, balling to fists and I couldn’t suppress an instinctual moan.

That was a step too far. Helen pulled back as if she had gotten burned.

“Gosh-” Quickly she cast her eyes down as I did much of the same. “Liv-” She blushed deeply. “I-”

“Sorry, I- Sorry.” I flushed with embarrassment as well. I was running before we could walk and I cleared my throat awkwardly. I released her hips, suddenly aware of how tightly I had been holding her and took a step back, even if I didn’t want to give up our closeness.

“That was-” Helen didn’t seem to have words so I tried for a quiet explanation:

“I think you- uh- I think you underestimate how uhm… physically… attracted I am to you-” I thought it best to admit.

“Right,” she nodded and the red of her cheeks seemed to darken even more. She was clearly not used to hearing these things.

“Sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… I just… you ought to know,” I apologised quickly.

“That you… find me attractive?” Forming the appropriate words seemed to take quite a bit of effort on her part as they came slowly and reluctantly. Her eyes remained cast down and she crossed her arms in front of her chest, creating a barrier between us. I knew then that it would be a hard piece of work to help her overcome her past demons, help her grow comfortable in her own skin and learn to enjoy the experiences I hoped to share with her. It was no matter, I decided, it would be worth it and she deserved all my patience and effort.

“I don’t think you realise how much self control it has cost me over the years not to let it show… too much…” I offered gently, beginning the long, tedious process that would be building up her confidence and self-worth after a life-time of deprecation and doubt. She had come so far since she had left her old life behind and I was forced to realise that my relationship with Tania and our experiences of being stuck in 2020 had done a lot to undo that progress. Somehow she had gotten shoved into the role of the housewife and babysitter, taking care of things while I had been distracted with Tania… I was determined to reverse things.

“I don’t know how to talk about these things, Liv…” Helen mumbled without looking up. The flush of her cheeks had reached the tips of her ears and her shoulders slumped in discomfort.

“We don’t need to, at all,” I assured her as I didn’t need her to say anything at all. I just wanted her to know how much she meant to me and how much - for want of a better word - I wanted her. Gently I reached out for her wrist, drew her hand and arm out of a tense embrace of herself. “We just… take things one step at a time and-”

“And what happens when we get back to London?” She interrupted me with something that seemed to be weighing heavily on her.

“Aren’t we allowed a little bit of a honeymoon phase before going back to reality?” I tried to make light of it, unprepared for the thought that struck unease into me in turn. It would be a difficult situation to manoeuvre and something I would rather have dealt with when the inescapable need arose.

“I just don’t know how I feel about anyone finding out…” She carried on and looked up at last. I can’t quite describe the expression in her eyes. It wasn’t doubt, which was a relief. We had gone too far, taken too long, to get hung up on doubts of our feelings now. It was more of a matter of insecurity, anxiety and guilt.

“Helen, the time we live in…” I started but she interrupted me once more:

“It’s not that. Not only that…” she shook her head lightly but allowed her hand to rest within mine. “Tania…” she said her name with sorrow and my heart sank at the thought as well. I tried my best to put on a brave face:

“Will be happy for us… in time… she knew. You do realise that? She-”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt her,” she cut in. “Honestly, Liv, how can you-” Her eyes flashed disappointment and while my insides twisted and turned with guilt and worry, I sought to explain and defend myself:

“Of course I care about how she feels, of course I- you’re right, I just… I have been wanting this - you - for a long time,” I held her hand tightly, afraid to let her go. “Of course I don’t want to rub her face in it, of course not,” I gave a heavy sigh. “We won’t tell anyone, not until you’re comfortable.” It was the right course of action. As much as I wanted to shout my joy off the rooftops, it would be the wrong time. As much understanding as Tania had shown, it would be unfair of us to cast her in the light of the other woman, the mistake soon to be forgotten about when really, that was far from the truth. I cared for her and I knew Helen did too, neither of us wanted to hurt her.

“Yes, that would be good,” Helen nodded at last, obviously calmer for my assurances.

“That’s fine by me. One step at a time, like I said,” I repeated and felt the heaviness and tension lifting around us.

“Good,” Helen gave a small smile, squeezing my hand, and I raised her fingers to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as way of a promise.

“Good,” I agreed and felt quite accomplished for having successfully discussed the first major issue of our relationship - if I dared call it that at that point - and reached an agreement. Helen seemed equally as pleased as she tucked me a little closer by our intertwined hands.

“Now, can we-” she mumbled somewhat shyly. “Would you-” She guided my hands back to her hips and I broke into a grin. I certainly didn’t need asking twice and quickly closed the gap between us once more. If we would have to restrain ourselves upon our return to London, I would savour this time as much as I could.

“Well, well, well,” a voice sounded, familiar and teasing, and we jumped apart.

“River!” I exclaimed while Helen gave a mortified gasp, quite as if we had been caught red-handed in a double murder rather than sharing a kiss at dusk.

“Oh please, don’t stop on my account,” River smirked, looking positively smug. “I just wanted to see how you’re getting on but it seems you got sidetracked in the best possible way.”

“As it happens, the truck works just fine,” I shot back defiantly as Helen retreated to a safe distance and I sought to divert attention away from her by gesturing towards the vehicle: “We’re good to go!”

“Oh well, that’s just perfect timing then,” River retorted with a grin. “It’s getting dark. We’ll just need the Doctor to finish their dampener and we can set off.” She clapped her hands together.

“I think I’m just gonna…” Helen mumbled to excuse herself and before I could do anything to stop her, she fled the scene. I turned to follow, loathing the idea of letting her walk off by herself in an emotionally unstable state but River stepped into my way.

“Just a quick word, Liv?” She requested, her voice and expression suddenly more serious than before. I sighed, annoyed, and all of a sudden felt a whole lot more sympathetic towards Helen’s reluctance to share our news. There were bound to be opinions and questions asked by our friends. I didn’t have time for her lectures and/or teasing.

“If you’re going to tell me to treat her right-” I started but she didn’t let me finish:

“I know you will. That is not my concern.”

“Then what is?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I got the distinct feeling I would not like what she had to say which was unnerving. I would have thought River of all people would be pleased for us. I cast a searching glance over her shoulder but Helen had disappeared into the darkness that was gathering quickly now.

“As happy as I am for you - and I am, truly, you both deserve every happiness - I can’t help but notice you are taking steps towards a future we are all hoping to avoid,” the archaeologist offered rather gently in a tone of voice I had rarely heard her employ. It was startling but not as startling as the realisation of what she was referring to. My chest tightened as part of Helen’s reasoning for refusing my advances returned to my mind.

“My death, you mean,” I observed, trying to sound as matter-of-factly as I could when discussing one’s own demise. “Surely there must have been other futures in which we were together where I didn’t-” I hoped to build up a defense but I didn’t get very far.

“Liv,” River’s voice was regretful but left little room for me to protest. It was enough to dissuade me from trying to argue needlessly when I understood her point all too well.

“I know,” I sighed, wishing I had never seen the future we had travelled to. It had been a mistake, one of many that I was inadvertently responsible for.

“Our odds are certainly improved but… please… be careful,” she carried on and was surprisingly sombre about it which gave me pause in itself.

“I will be,” I promised. I had no interest in dying, particularly now that finally my stars appeared to be aligning. I would be damned if I gave up on the chance of a life with Helen.

“And not just with yourself… with her too,” River insisted, taking advantage of having me on my own. “These things might seem natural, insignificant, small even to us but… not to her, be patient.”

“See now you are telling me to treat her right,” I chuckled and she smiled in response:

“And you will.”

“Of course, I’d never-” I took a deep breath. Helen didn’t have family I would ever have to face, relatives for whose respect I’d have to fight. River was probably the closest thing to a protective, caring figure she had and I felt like I had to make the point.

“I know,” she assured me with a smile and we were interrupted by the Doctor’s untimely arrival.

“I’m done!” She exclaimed as she stumbled out of the building, holding aloft a small device that looked a lot like it was held together by nothing but duct tape.

“Excellent timing,” River commented, the heaviness of our conversation dispersed into the night air. “While you install that I’m going to load up the fuel and provisions,” she instructed to which her wife nodded. Then she turned back to me and added: “How about you grab your girlfriend and we’ll be ready to go?”

“I’ll do that,” I agreed, trying to ignore how the use of the term brought colour to my cheeks. It was a lovely thought.

“Girlfriend?!” The Doctor echoed as I headed off but I didn’t stop. That was something for River to explain. I was more concerned with finding where Helen had got to.

Thankfully, she hadn’t gone far. She was more sensible than that. I found her around the front of the buildings where she had sat down on the ground with a lovely view of the open desert around. Night had fallen properly now with only a faint glow recalling the light of day on the horizon. The cloudless day was followed by an equally clear night, and above the moon stood bright against the sky, surrounded by the ocean of stars. I stalled for a moment, marvelling at the celestial display the likes of which I had been missing in the big city. I had noted as much during our outbound journey when flying in the night but to be stationary and looking up into the heavens was a different and more awe-inspiring experience. It made me feel incredibly small.

Helen, for her part, seemed rather engrossed in the night sky as well but she did take notice of my arrival, even if she didn’t turn.

“What did River want?” She asked as I stepped closer.

“Nothing important just to check how we were getting on…” I answered as I didn’t want to add to her worries by bringing up River’s concerns for what the future held in store for us.

“You were talking for a while…” Helen carried on, obviously sensing that there was more to it but I refused to bite.

“Honestly don’t worry about it,” I put the matter off and moved closer. “What are you doing?” I asked and sat down beside her. The ground was dusty and dry and I ran my fingers through the sand, gathering some in my hands and tipping it out again slowly, giving myself something to do and offering her space should she need it.

“Just enjoying the view,” she answered absent-mindedly without averting her eyes from the stars, whereas I watched her intently, observing how the pale moonlight reflected on her skin and played in her hair.

“Hm… quite the sight,” I commented non-committally and she gave a small smile of response.

“Are you flirting with me?” She questioned, glancing around at last, though only for a moment.

“Maybe,” I hummed in response and cast my eyes up to observe the constellations above.

The stars were bright and clear with the band of the Milky Way stretching across us. It was something you never got to see in London, or any city for that matter. I had realised that early on in life and felt like it was something Helen would appreciate knowing. “But it is quite the view. I love this about the desert. In Kaldor City you could never see the stars because of light pollution, same as London now… But when my dad took me rock climbing in the mountains, sometimes we would take a tent and stay out there for a while. Mum used to hate it. She was always worried we’d get caught in a sandstorm one day.”

“And did you?” She asked softly.

“There were a couple of close calls, I won’t lie,” I chuckled fondly at the memories. I can still see my mother’s face now, bright red as she was seething with anger when Dad and I returned covered head to toe in sand after barely escaping the desert plain with our lives. “But my point was: out there in the desert was where I first got to see the stars properly and they’ve never let me go. Being able to see them so clearly out there was one of the main reasons why I wanted to leave Kaldor. I couldn’t wait to go and see them up close,” I explained.

“I never thought that was something I’d ever get to do… seeing the stars… It’s just not the sort of thing you’ll find on the bucket list of someone from 1960,” Helen answered gently, her tone of voice betraying wonder and fascination with the sight above us. Just because she had never considered it didn’t mean she cared any less about it than I did. We were so very well-matched in that regard. It was one of the many fascinations we shared. I was surprised and delighted when her hand found mine, squeezing lightly as she carried on: “There are a lot of things I didn’t think I’d ever get to do…” I looked over to her but her eyes remained cast upward to the heavens, transfixed, and I thought, for a moment, she had blinked away tears. “I miss the stars. I miss being out there, among them,” she concluded and I could only agree.

“Me too…” I nodded.

“Do you think we will ever-” she carried on, sounding hope- and fear-ful at the same time. There was longing in her voice that I felt all too keenly in my heart. I wasn’t one for sitting still. I had always longed to travel, leave the mundane everyday behind and to see the wonders of the universe. That desire had never gone away, though it had changed somewhat over time and through experiences. Now I didn’t just want to travel the universe, now I wanted to share it with someone and not just anyone: with the woman by my side.

“Of course we will,” I stated confidently as I wouldn’t allow for any doubts. “It’ll be just like before. You, me, the Doctor and the TARDIS.”

“Family…” Helen summarised and a smile lit up her features, far more beautiful than the stars above. As much as I adored the view of the heavens, I only had eyes for her.

“Family,” I agreed, the notion warming my heart by making it beat faster, and Helen shuffled closer, resting her head on my shoulder. I smiled and wrapped my arm around her in a rare moment of contentment. The world was quiet around us, there was nothing for us to do, nowhere to be, nothing else to say. We simply sat in each other’s company, looking out into the universe, each - I imagined - dreaming up what we would experience once we returned to our travels and I hoped we were imagining the same things.

“Alright, you two love birds!” Of course it was River that disrupted the peace as she called out to us. We looked around and bright lights flicked on and blinded us as the truck rolled around the corner.

“No need for that,” I groaned, squinting against the headlights as we got to our feet. It took a moment for our eyes to adjust but when they did, we found the military vehicle coming to a stop beside us with River hanging out of the driver’s window. “In you get. We ride!”

Helen and I exchanged bemused looks in regards to River’s enthusiasm but did as instructed. We climbed into the back of the truck as the Doctor was sitting in the passenger seat fumbling with her dampener device.

“It’ll be a long drive, we better take turns,” the Time Lady commented once her wife kicked down the gas and we shot off into the night. “Get some rest while you can.”

“Not sure how you expect us to rest…” I mumbled when we hit a pothole and were jerked about. With the uneven terrain, I expected most of the journey would be similar and River’s driving style did nothing to reassure me. I grabbed tight hold of the door handle to my right hand side. On the other side, however, Helen grasped my hand, drawing small, soothing circles on the back of it with her thumb. I looked around to find her smiling at me and I won’t deny the soothing effect she had on me. Perhaps we would be able to rest once we had gotten used to things.

---

The space was sterile and functional but had everything I could possibly need. Compared to living conditions during the occupation of Nixyce VII, the small quarters I was assigned at the Ides Institute seemed like luxury. A bed, food, water, clothes… I could hardly complain. There was even an entertainment screen, though its main function appeared to be reiterating the importance and significance of the Institute.

“Make yourself at home, Med-tech Chenka,” the staffer said and I had almost forgotten he was still there. “I will be back in an hour and take you to meet the other volunteers that have made it to the testing stage,” he explained and I gave a nod of understanding.

“Alright, yeah, thanks.”

And with that, the door slid shut and I was alone. I took a deep breath and released it shakily. It was completely quiet and for the first time since - I wasn’t even sure how long - I felt able to sit and take a breather. I dropped onto the foot of the bed and kicked off my shoes. They were worn through and dirty and I took a moment to consider the distance I had come in them. Escaping Nixyce VII. Nine months in an isotope carrier. Surviving the explosion and destruction of the spaceship. Being picked up and nursed back to health by the Space Service. Fleeing their ship. Crash landing in the backend of beyond. Seeking to give help to the people society had forgotten about. And at long last I had walked in them to this place. Now, they lay next to a sparkling clean pair of lightweight trainers that I imagined I was expected to wear. On the bed, not far from where I was sitting, I spotted a neatly folded stack of clothes and as I looked down myself, I wondered what the interviewer had thought to my state of being. Like my boots, my clothes showed the wear and tear of a long tedious journey, the same scars I had come to wear in every aspect of my being, including my spirit.

Slowly I started peeling my clothes off me. First the coat, then my button-up shirt. The space service had been kind enough to see to my clothes being cleaned but plenty of time had passed since. As I surveyed the room further, I wandered to the adjoining bathroom, complete with a shower, and as I pulled my top off I became aware of how much my muscles were aching. I hadn’t slept, I hadn’t rested, I’d barely washed. The thought of a hot shower was just about the most alluring thing I could think of right about now.

So I wiggled out of my trousers, rid myself of the last remainders of my clothes and stepped inside the shower without further ado. The water came with a rush of warmth and comfort. I simply stood for a moment, savouring the sensation across my aching body and closed my eyes. With another shaky breath, slowly but surely, the tension left my body and with it, my strength. I had to brace myself against the wall so I wouldn’t fall over and the water on my face wasn’t just from the shower, it was tears too. Tears of sorrow and tears of relief but most importantly: tears of exhaustion. I had been fighting for so long, pushing myself on and on, that I had forgotten what it was like to stop, to take a breath and to rest. I couldn’t believe I had finally reached a destination. It wasn’t my final one, of course, that was a very long way away it seemed, but it was time to stop running. I had arrived somewhere.

And so I stood in the shower, crying until I ran out of tears, washing away the physical reminders of my journey and filing away the psychological ones. I was about to have a fresh start. If only it wasn’t for the impending sense of doom I felt when the memory of my terminal illness stuck. I turned the shower off abruptly to interrupt my train of thought. That was not something I wanted to think about so I urged my body out of the comfortable warmth of the shower, jumping back to action that prevented myself from overthinking. I was exceptionally well-accustomed to running away from my problems.

I gathered myself into a towel that was far softer than anything I had experienced in years and returned to the main room to get dressed. The clothes provided for me turned out to be a grey tunic not unlike what I used to wear during my medical training. The familiarity was oddly comforting. I felt a lot better for having had a shower and wearing a fresh set of clothes. I went to gather my old one and as I did, something slid from the back pocket of my trousers. I rushed to bend down as it was my one remaining, prized possession: the family picture I had carried with me since leaving Nixyce VII. It was quite remarkable that I had managed to hang on to it. I had lost almost everything I had taken with me during the explosion of the isotope carrier but the photo had remained in my pocket and my rescuers had taken care to return what little they found me with.

As I picked up the photo and ran my fingers along the edges, seeking to smooth them out, my heart grew heavy. I would never get to see my family again. While my parents had passed away, Tula would still be there on Kaldor in all likelihood and she would never know what became of me. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Wanted as I was, I couldn’t return home and I doubted I would survive the journey if I tried. My life was pretty much over, so there was no point in dwelling on missed chances now. If I wanted to see any more of the universe, do something else with what little remained, the Ides Institute mission was my best and only option. I did, however, wish there would be some way to leave a message for Tula… I filed the thought away as I placed the picture in the inside pocket of my tunic.

The knock on the door came sooner than expected and pulled me out of a doze. I must have fallen asleep for a time and scrambled to an upright position on the bed. The prospect of sleeping in a real bed had been all too tempting.

“Come in,” I called and stood unsteadily. The response was prompt: the young scientist that had interviewed me gave me a once-over and an approving smile upon his return.

“Shall we?” He gestured for me to follow and I did. After everything that had happened to me, the calm, civilised manner of the Institute’s staff was almost as disorienting as suddenly having to stop running. I could tell it would take some getting used to. I caught myself checking my surroundings with almost paranoid watchfulness, with my body tense and ready to launch into a run at any moment but, as it turned out, there was no need.

We arrived in a mess hall without incident and I became keenly aware of my hunger as my stomach rumbled at the smell in the air. It took all my willpower not to skip out on the introductions and pick up a tray straight away but, dutifully, I followed the staffer to a table at the centre of the hall where three people were eating, engaged in conversation.

“Med-tech Chenka, let me introduce you to the rest of the team,” the scientist smiled and the other volunteers looked up as we came to a halt. I put on my best smile, aware that if this was to work out, I would end up spending what was likely the rest of my life with these people. I wanted to get off on the right foot and assessed them one by one as my guide pointed them out. “Dal Brock, who will hopefully become captain of your vessel.” A broad man with ginger hair and a welcoming smile stood and offered me his hand which I gladly took.

“A med-tech. Probably a good idea for when we come out of that stasis,” he observed with a satisfied nod.

“Science-tech Vi Kruger,” the staffer went on to point out a blonde woman with sharp features and an even harder expression as she barely managed a slim smile of greeting. I mirrored the gesture more warmly and with a nod but she already returned her attention to her meal.

“Bron Kell, comms-tech!” The last volunteer jumped to his feet before the scientist got a chance to finish off his introductions. He was a young man with wide, curious eyes and no small measure of enthusiasm, evident in the way he eagerly grabbed my hand. “Do sit down, I’d be happy to grab you a meal.”

“Alright, ehh… yeah.” I was slightly overwhelmed by his offer but saw no reason to refuse, particularly when Dal gestured to the chair across from him. I took a seat to which the scientist took his leave and I realised I stood a chance of finally getting some answers. My fellow volunteers would surely be more helpful than the facility staff. “So… Captain Broke…” I started, though not sure how to actually strike up the conversation.

“Please, call me Dal,” Dal interrupted me immediately. “Do you have a first name, Med-tech Chenka?” He asked with a good-natured smile and took a sip of his drink.

“Liv,” I answered, feeling my nerves slowly fading away. “My name is Liv.”

I got the sense things might be okay, particularly when Bron returned with much needed food.

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