Chapter Text
Tensions were beginning to mount, despite Yaz's best intentions. After the fallout from their dealings with the Master, it had become patently obvious that what little she did know of the Doctor was paper-thin and perhaps not even entirely accurate if held up to closer scrutiny.
As a result, what Yaz had believed - that the Doctor always tried to do the right thing, that she was trustworthy, that she was reliable - seemed to be built on assumptions that could very easily be wrong. The rug had well and truly been pulled from out under her feet and to make things worse, the Doctor seemed just as badly shaken.
Yaz had seen the facade start to slip over their last few trips. The Doctor’s temper was shorter than it ever had been and her moods were variable, degenerating to the point of semi-permanent rudeness at points. At first, Yaz had been worried about her but as time wore on and the Doctor became even more withdrawn within herself, Yaz's concern turned to frustration that the Doctor was shutting them out. Shutting her out.
Yaz was starting to wonder if she would ever truly get to know the Doctor. And if not, what was she doing? Looking for hints of reciprocation when there would probably never be any, especially not now that the Doctor’s walls were back up and more like barricades, reinforced and impenetrable. Just when Yaz thought she’d been making progress, it had been scuppered so easily that Yaz wondered if she’d truly made any progress at all.
Yaz kicked at some sand with a heavy sigh. Her own mood had inevitably been darkened by the Doctor’s attitude. Graham and Ryan had made an effort to keep themselves at arm’s length but Yaz couldn’t help but be drawn to the Doctor, keen to do what she could to help. Of the three of them, Yaz was the closest with the Doctor and it was in her very nature to want to help, but it was getting harder not to take it personally when the Doctor would express her irritation so blatantly.
When Graham had told them he was tired, the Doctor had snapped at him. When Ryan had pressed a button he (admittedly) shouldn't have, he hadn't heard the end of it. And when it came to her own transgression, Yaz knew the response she received was nowhere near as bad as the others. But it had been the first time the Doctor had spoken to her so coldly and the brief exchange lingered with Yaz for a long time afterwards.
Might get you out of your mardy mood.
My mood's fine.
The Doctor's tone had been civil enough, but Yaz got the message loud and clear: back off. And more than anything, Yaz knew that the Doctor's mood was, in fact, not fine, but calling her out on it had clearly got her nowhere.
It had stung so bitterly that Yaz kept replaying the words on a loop, picturing the Doctor's face as she said them, for hours afterwards.
Might get you out of your mardy mood.
My mood's fine.
Yaz cringed as she heard the Doctor's words echo in her mind. The steely way she looked at Yaz, without a flicker of warmth.
My mood's fine.
It had been the first time she'd spoken to Yaz like that. Yaz hoped it would be the last. She shivered, despite the sunshine.
Yaz had been so certain they were becoming closer, slowly but surely. They'd even hugged for the first time and judging by what Graham had told Yaz, the Doctor had been overly concerned for her welfare while she was in San Francisco with Ryan, interviewing Barton. But that completely contradicted the behaviour Yaz was seeing now. To put it bluntly, the mixed messages were doing her head in. And to make matters worse, the Doctor didn't seem to notice what she was doing, or she didn't care.
So, since the Doctor was starting to lash out on a more regular basis, Yaz did the only thing she could, even though it went against every fibre of her being. She gave the Doctor some space. What was meant to be a lightweight comment about the Doctor's mood had gone down like a lead balloon and done very little to make Yaz's own mood buoyant, despite the fact they'd randomly ended up in a spa resort of all places, courtesy of Graham.
The moment they arrived, the Doctor expressed concern about being separated from the TARDIS. Yaz resisted the urge to roll her eyes. All of them were in desperate need of a break but the Doctor only cared about her ship. Yaz knew she was probably being a bit bitter but the first moment she could, she announced that she was going to find the pool and left. She didn’t even have her swimming costume but that didn’t matter. She just needed space, and she didn't want to burden Ryan or Graham, either. Both of them were just as bemused by the Doctor's moods of late. Besides, she had a feeling she was taking the Doctor’s moods far more personally than either of them. It felt like their little family was dissolving right before Yaz’s eyes, crumbling like the sand under her feet as she walked.
Eventually, Yaz found herself by the pool, chatting to a nice older couple as she looked at it wistfully, knowing that a relaxing holiday with nothing but her thoughts for company was probably not going to take her mind off things at all.
Less than an hour later, Yaz was running for her life. It certainly put things in perspective and she embraced the rush of adrenaline and the distraction that came with it. And the spike was huge, given that the luxury spa they’d teleported to was actually on a dead planet full of malevolent creatures called Dregs that had kidnapped one of the spa visitors, an old man named Benni. Now, they were on a rescue mission to find him, spearheaded by the Doctor and an angry-looking woman called Kane who carried a gun and who was butting heads with the Doctor in a way that made Yaz relieved she wasn’t on the receiving end for once.
Yaz couldn’t handle the Doctor right now, but seeing her take charge of the situation helped her shelve her thoughts for the time being. They had bigger issues to deal with and the Doctor adopted her usual role so effortlessly it was like she’d always been that way, not moping and miserable and distracted.
Maybe this was why the Doctor always looked to help, Yaz thought. Maybe she needed something to get her out of her own head. Yaz could see the benefits of such an approach as her blood thumped, clearing her mind with a fresh rush of panic, fear, and a pinch of excitement. They were easier emotions to deal with because they were so simple, and they were all she needed. Although Yaz was glad the Doctor was on hand to do the thinking, because she wasn’t sure she could quite resolve how they’d get out of this one.
It had all been going reasonably well until the truck they’d taken to find Benni had left them stranded. The Doctor had smashed the escape hatch under the floor with surprising violence and Yaz had been certain she’d heard an exclamation of pain but then they were out in the open, adrift and unprotected. It didn’t take long for the Dregs to surround them, menacing in the mist. They’d sniffed the air like hunters picking up a scent.
“Can they smell us?” Graham had pulled a face of disgust, warped by terror. Yaz was certain her own face would show something similar. Whatever these things were, they looked lethal and there were far too many of them.
“We’ll draw them off,” Kane said, gesturing to her second-in-command. They were the only armed members of the group.
“But what about my Benni?” Vilma exclaimed, and Yaz laid a soothing hand on her arm. The old woman was understandably upset but the noise she was making was only going to draw even more Dregs.
“I’ll find him,” Kane murmured, turning to the Doctor. “Find the hatch. It’s on that ridge.”
She pointed up to a hill nearby and although the Doctor clearly didn’t like their options, she nodded grimly.
“Come on,” the Doctor murmured, her voice low as she moved to the front of the group. She barely acknowledged Yaz as she passed but the moment they were within touching distance she reached for Yaz’s arm without a word, encouraging her to follow her lead.
Yaz resisted the urge to yank her arm away, knowing it would be petty. It was highly unlikely that the Doctor would understand why she’d done it, either. Instead, she deliberately slowed her pace and waited for Vilma to catch up.
“Yaz, what are you doing?” the Doctor hissed, eyes scanning the horizon. It was terrifying to see the shapes in the distance, not knowing when they’d strike.
Despite the prickle of fear that raced up her spine, Yaz didn’t budge. “I need to make sure she’s alright,” she insisted, nodding to Vilma, who was struggling to cross the terrain even as she looked for Benni. “You help the others.”
The Doctor looked so stern in that moment that Yaz wondered if she should have kept her mouth shut. She turned away instead, hoping to encourage Vilma to move a little quicker. The longer they stood outside the more danger they were in, but Vilma was old and Yaz felt responsible for her wellbeing. She was the slowest of the group, after all, and Yaz had a horrible feeling the Doctor wouldn’t even notice if she got left behind; it wasn’t as if she was particularly observant of others at the moment.
When they made it to the hatch and found themselves in a dark and gloomy Dreg nest, Yaz made a concerted effort not to let Vilma out of her sight. It would be too easy to lose someone in there and the thought made her just as anxious as the prospect of crawling through an underground passage full of terrifying creatures with little to no protection.
Her relief when Kane returned to the group was short-lived; she was alone, and bluntly informed Vilma that she’d not only found Benni but killed him. The gun slung from her shoulder turned from a welcome sight into an abhorrent one.
Yaz was speechless with disgust but she channelled her rage into something more productive. She’d get Vilma out of there, at least. But it didn’t take long for them to slip behind the rest of the group, given how distraught Vilma was at the news of her beloved Benni.
Thankfully, Graham took it upon himself to help. The Doctor was just ahead, talking quietly with Kane; Yaz could see the orange light of her oxygen monitor in the gloom, but she had no idea how she could even look at that woman, never mind hold a conversation with her. If she and Graham weren’t helping Vilma, Yaz wondered if the Doctor would have even realised how far behind she was.
A tinny voice echoed around the chamber, barely audible from where Yaz stood but the meaning of the words was clear enough.
Oxygen running out. Consider urgently refilling this canister.
Yaz watched as the light on the Doctor’s oxygen monitor turned from green to orange. Presumably the noisy alert was hers, warning her that her breathable air was running low. Yaz’s own was still green but Vilma’s had also turned orange and Graham’s rapid breathing suggested that his oxygen supply was also depleting.
The reminder that they were running out of oxygen made the air feel even heavier, the atmosphere more claustrophobic than it had done even when they’d entered the nest. Yaz had to make a conscious effort to tamp down on the cold terror that was bubbling inside her or she’d panic. Vilma squeezed her hand and Yaz offered her a weak smile in return. It helped to focus on something else and right now, Vilma was surely in greater need of reassurance than she was. Besides, the only person who could truly reassure her right now was the Doctor and she wasn’t exactly close by.
“I’m sorry, Vilma,” Yaz said, and she genuinely was. Hearing Kane explain how easily she’d killed Benni had turned Yaz’s stomach and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Vilma was feeling.
“As soon as we get back, I’ll be filing a complaint,” Vilma replied, her attempt at humour doing little to lighten the mood. “I suppose she was only doing what she thought was right.”
Yaz couldn’t help but think of the Doctor. Always trying to do the right thing, but by whose moral barometer? She might not be human but she had flaws. That was becoming more and more obvious by the day.
They walked in silence for a while as Yaz thought about what Vilma had said, almost forgetting where they even were as she got lost in her thoughts. That was, until Kane abruptly turned around and shone her torch further down the tunnel, illuminating the scale of the problem. They were being followed by far more Dregs than Yaz had realised and her heart leapt into her throat.
“Shit,” Yaz muttered. The panic was pushing at the lid of the box she’d so hastily shoved it in and she breathed shakily, trying to ignore it. Panicking would get her nowhere, and they really needed to get out of the tunnels as a matter of urgency.
Oxygen running out. Consider urgently refilling this canister.
So, when the Doctor stopped to read a sign on the wall, Yaz reasoned that whatever she’d found must have been important enough to halt their progress.
“What is it?” she asked, frowning at the wall as she tried to read what the Doctor was reading. There was something underneath the muck and she impatiently wiped at it with the sleeve of her jacket, brushing it away so they could try and interpret it.
“Nothing,” the Doctor said, her voice hollow. “Come on, we need to move.”
But Graham was having none of it and Yaz was relieved that he’d stepped in because in a face-off between her and the Doctor, Yaz would never come out on top.
“I said it’s nothing,” the Doctor bit out, pausing nonetheless when she realised her companions had stayed put. Graham ignored her in favour of squinting at the writing.
“That looks like Russian,” he said, his face pale. Yaz felt the blood leave hers when she realised he was right.
The Doctor sighed.
“Novosibirsk. It's a Siberian underground station.”
She sounded defeated as she said it, like she’d had to admit to something she didn’t want to. But in that moment, shock meant Yaz could only offer a single response.
“This is Earth.”
Yaz turned to look at the Doctor, who refused to make eye contact.
“This is Earth?”
The Doctor nodded, briefly but enough for Yaz’s worst suspicions to be confirmed. Several questions instantly came to her mind.
How had this happened?
Were the Dregs all that was left of humanity?
Why had the Doctor tried to hide it from them?
Yaz could feel her frustration mounting to an uncomfortable degree.
“What-”
“We need to keep moving,” the Doctor interjected, looking past Yaz’s shoulder to the Dregs behind them. She was right, Yaz knew, but the fact remained that the Doctor had tried to hide the truth from them again. Yaz could feel rage twisting her guts, but she couldn’t tell how much of that was due to their discovery and how much of it was due to the Doctor’s behaviour.
Oxygen running out. Consider urgently refilling this canister.
Yaz made a mental note to revisit this conversation at a time when they weren’t in such imminent danger. The peril they were in became even more apparent when they finally regrouped behind a barricade, Kane aiming her gun in an attempt that even Yaz knew was futile.
“You don’t have enough ammunition,” the Doctor commented, to which Kane offered a blunt nod in response.
“We’ll need to run for it.”
Yaz’s heart sank.
“Vilma can’t run,” she pointed out, glancing at the Doctor. Her mouth was drawn into a line and she looked like she was mentally weighing up their options.
“Doctor? What can we do?”
“Just need a minute,” the Doctor said, and Yaz could see her trying to figure out a plan that would lead them all to safety. Instead of pacing like she normally did she had clenched her fists, holding one to her forehead as her mind worked.
But before Yaz could realise what was happening, Vilma was making a break for it. She moved surprisingly fast, telling Yaz to run even as she ran in the opposite direction. Instinctively, Yaz moved to leave the barricade and bring her back but a strong grip around her arm stopped her instantly.
“Don’t, Yaz.”
The Doctor’s voice in her ear.
“Which one of you hurt my Benni?”
Yaz felt her heart breaking at the tragic way two people had been murdered. Two people who loved each other very much, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Surely a love story shouldn’t end like that?
“Doctor-”
“Yaz, come on. We need to leave.”
A scream echoed throughout the chamber and Yaz thought she was going to be sick.
“We need to help her!”
Find breathable air immediately. Oxygen supply level 1%.
The Doctor held up her wrist in dismay, the light strip glowing red.
“We can’t, Yaz. I’m sorry. Please.”
That, and the abrupt end of the screaming, made Yaz’s decision for her. She looked over the barricade just in time to see the shadows descend on Vilma and eviscerate her.
On leaden legs, and without another word, Yaz stumbled to her feet and followed Kane. She felt numb and paid little mind to where she was stepping. Maybe it would only be a matter of time before they all ended up like Vilma, ripped limb from limb. Even if they got back to the spa, what would happen? It felt pointless.
“That’s it, Yaz. Come on.” Graham, now, his hand on her arm. Yaz distantly realised she was crying.
It just wasn’t fair.
What had just happened wasn’t fair. What was happening to all of them, right now, wasn’t fair. The way the Doctor was acting and the way she made Yaz feel...that wasn’t fair, either.
Yaz wiped at her eyes but stumbled nonetheless, grateful for Graham’s steadying presence.
“You’re alright, love,” he murmured, and Yaz knew he was probably just as affected by what had happened. He just didn’t have quite so many other feelings piling on top, feelings that centred around the woman who was bringing up the rear.
Oxygen running out. Consider urgently refilling this canister.
Graham was apparently starting to run out of oxygen, too. It was only a matter of time before Yaz’s monitor did the same. She’d never had to take air for granted before. She’d never even been to a spa but she was sure they weren’t meant to be this stressful, and Yaz had a feeling she’d never get to go to one.
Yaz wanted to go home. Then she laughed, even as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Technically she was home. With a heavy sigh, she picked up the pace. If she was going to die, she was going to at least get out of these tunnels, first. See daylight one last time.
“You ever wonder about your life decisions?”
To his credit, Graham didn’t question where she was coming from.
“All the time. Quite a lot, recently, if I’m honest. But at the end of the day I’d never change ‘em.”
“Really? Even if we die here?”
“Talk about depressing, Yaz. You’ve got to think positive or you’ll get nowhere. That’s what the Doc’s like, isn’t she? Always seeing the positives.”
“Not at the moment, she isn’t.”
For once, Graham didn’t have an answer prepared.
“You must have noticed it?” Yaz continued, wanting to hear what Graham had to say about it. He and the Doctor had a different kind of relationship to the one Yaz had with the Doctor, but Yaz knew that the Doctor had been acting differently around all of them. It was something of an elephant in the room, though, because none of them seemed to want to discuss it.
“She’s been a little...off, maybe. But give it time, Yaz. I think she’ll tell us in her own way. And right now we have bigger fish to fry.”
Yaz sighed, knowing that he was right, and then realised to her dismay that sighing was a huge waste of oxygen. It was surprising she had any air left given the day they’d had.
“Talking of,” Graham muttered, suddenly stopping to look back. “I haven’t heard the Doc’s alarm in a while.”
Yaz frowned. He was right. She turned to look but the Doctor was not behind them and Yaz felt her stomach lurch as she scanned the darkness for any signs of life. Not even the light from her oxygen monitor was visible.
They’d left her behind.
“Kane!” she called out, relieved when the woman stopped. She paused for a moment, waiting to hear if any Dregs were nearby, but there was blessed silence and Yaz felt her heart rate start to settle. It had been a risk to shout, but it was the most efficient course of action.
“The Doctor. She’s gone.”
Kane adjusted her gun strap, making a show of inspecting her oxygen monitor. It was orange, and now Yaz’s was, too.
“I’m going back for her,” she told Graham, not waiting for an answer before she headed back the way they’d just come. She could hear him say something but the words were lost on her, swallowed up by the darkness.
Try as Yaz might to put some distance between herself and the Doctor, she just couldn’t leave her like that, and definitely not when they had unfinished business. The thought propelled her onwards even as she stepped carefully, wary of encountering any of the Dregs that were presumably still hunting them. All she had for company was the sound of her own harsh breathing, reminding her that her own oxygen supply was going to diminish before long. The orange glow on her wrist would soon turn red, like the Doctor’s had.
That had been a while ago, Yaz realised. She’d been so busy talking about things with Graham, annoyed at the Doctor, that she’d not even realised the Doctor was no longer with them. Guilt ate away at Yaz’s irritation, lending itself to the fear that had wrapped itself around her stomach and squeezed.
To her immense relief it didn’t take long to find the Doctor, although in truth, Yaz was guided more by the strip of light than anything else; in the gloom it was so hard to make anything out and if it hadn’t been for the red, flashing light on the ground, Yaz could have walked past her. The alert grew louder as Yaz walked closer, resisting the urge to break into a run in case she made too much noise.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
Yaz tried to ignore the message but it inspired full-blown panic to finally emerge when she realised the Doctor was actually slumped against the wall, eyes closed, chin resting on her chest like she was having an impromptu nap. But her chest didn’t seem to be moving and although it took a second for Yaz to realise, the moment she did she let out a noise of shock.
“Doctor?” Yaz crouched in front of her and gently shook her shoulder, knowing full well that if the Doctor wasn’t breathing then it was very unlikely that she was conscious, but she had to be sure.
As if in slow motion, the Doctor slid to the floor in a heap, motionless.
For a moment Yaz crouched there, helpless, her arm still outstretched and frozen in place.
“Yaz!” Graham hissed, and she heard the sound of feet rushing up to her. Then others.
“Is she dead?”
Kane.
Yaz shook her head in disbelief. The Doctor couldn’t be dead. Of all the ways for this to happen, this was not what Yaz could ever have contemplated. If the Doctor was ever going to die - and presumably she would, at some point, although she’d barely explained that part - it wasn’t going to be like this, stuck in some dingy tunnel on a dead planet, alone.
Except, to all intents and purposes, she had.
Graham reached out for the Doctor’s wrist, his face gloomy. Yaz held her breath as she awaited his verdict.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
“She’s got a pulse!” he exclaimed, and Yaz fell back on her arse in surprise. The relief that flooded her veins was so sweet that she thought she could cry and laugh, all at once.
“She’s got a pulse,” Graham repeated, “but it’s weak. We need to get her some air.”
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
Gently, he tapped the Doctor’s cheek. When he got no response he tapped a little harder, apologising even as she flinched awake.
Her answering wheeze made Yaz hold her own breath, and she clutched at her chest as she watched the Doctor do the same. The Doctor might not be human, but she definitely needed oxygen.
“Come on, sunshine,” Graham muttered, moving quickly. “Yaz, help me get her up.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for the Dregs,” Kane offered, training her gun down the corridor as Yaz moved to help Graham as he pulled the Doctor away from the wall.
Even though the Doctor barely seemed to understand what was going on, she groaned as her legs limply scrambled to help.
Yaz crouched and slid the Doctor’s arm over her shoulder, the cramped space making things difficult as her head passed entirely too close to Graham’s. But they managed to avoid further incident, timing an upward lift that got the Doctor upright relatively easily. Within seconds she was essentially a dead weight, hanging limply between them and listing dangerously to one side. Yaz’s side, as it turned out. Her weak breaths stirred against Yaz’s neck, tickling the skin there. But Yaz could put up with the mild irritation if it meant she knew the Doctor was still breathing.
“Come on,” she grunted, tightening her grip around the Doctor’s waist. “You’ll have to help us, Doctor.”
“Yeah,” the Doctor exhaled, taking in a wheezing breath. It was obvious she was getting nowhere near enough oxygen. Her nose was cold against Yaz’s ear.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
The repeated warning was loud enough to make Yaz anxious that the Dregs would find them before they could make it to safety.
Yaz nearly stopped outright when the air tickling her neck stopped for too long, but then the Doctor took a deep, shuddering breath. Yaz could feel her ribs expand against her palm, pressing against the side of her own chest as the Doctor took in as much air as she could manage. The thought was terrifying; the Doctor was slowly suffocating.
“Doc, take it easy,” Graham encouraged, even as he tried to conserve his own air supply. “Shallow breaths.”
Yaz bit her lip as they nearly stumbled, feeling the burn in her shoulders multiply as they made their way back. In the distance, she could see a light at the end of the tunnel, and someone standing underneath it. Judging by the height - and the green hair - it was Sylas. The sight of him was very welcome, but Yaz knew they weren’t out of the woods yet.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
“Talk….too….much,” the Doctor rasped, head rolling backwards in a mockery of laughter.
“You do. Sometimes. Sometimes, not enough,” Yaz grumbled. She was starting to sweat with the effort of carrying the Doctor, and from the sheer stress of the situation. She really did need a holiday after this.
“Sorry,” the Doctor gasped.
“Stop talking!” Yaz replied, ignoring Graham’s chuckle.
The Doctor’s head leaned into hers, the pressure a welcome once. Even in the dim light, Yaz could see that her lips were turning blue. She adjusted her grip around the Doctor’s waist, feeling how skinny she was under her shirts. Yaz wondered if she’d always been that skinny or if she’d not been looking after herself, of late; she was certain her clothes normally fit a bit better, now that she thought of it.
She cursed herself for not paying attention to the more obvious clues.
Refill oxygen canister. Find breathable air. Failure to do so will result in threat to life.
How foolish they’d all been, heading out into the great unknown with only a limited supply of oxygen. In retrospect it hadn’t been the wisest of decisions, although Yaz knew the Doctor had only acted on the information she had available; still, she knew the Doctor also got a thrill from challenging situations. Yaz did, too. If they hadn’t been in such mortal danger, Yaz might have found the whole thing exciting.
The Doctor wheezed in her ear and Yaz gritted her teeth.
“We need to move faster,” she panted, but even then she could feel the Doctor starting to slip out of her grasp as her body grew even heavier.
“Doc?” Graham asked, similarly struggling. Kane came to their rescue, jogging up the tunnel.
“Let me,” she insisted, handing Yaz her gun and bodily picking up the Doctor like she was made of air.
Yaz gawped as she watched Kane march to the exit, the Doctor flung over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes. The gun was warm in her hands and she clenched it tight, looking back even as they made it to safety.
“Never...doing that….again,” Graham panted, peeling the strip off his nose the moment they were safely back inside the spa. Yaz did the same, then headed straight to Kane, who’d carefully deposited the Doctor on a nearby table. Without a word, she reached for her gun. Yaz happily swapped it for responsibility for the Doctor.
“Yaz?” the Doctor murmured, half conscious but breathing deep.
“I’m here,” Yaz assured her, peeling the strip from the Doctor’s nose. She looked much better without it, although her lips were still tinged with blue and she was as white as a sheet.
Oxygen supply refilling. Oxygen supply refilling. Oxygen supply refilling.
“Yes, we get it,” Yaz grumbled, tugging off the Doctor’s oxygen monitor to finally silence the noise. But the Doctor recoiled at the motion, hissing in pain.
“Doctor? What’s wrong?”
The Doctor mumbled something under her breath, which was still more laboured than Yaz liked. Realising she wasn’t going to get an answer out of her, Yaz reached for her hand.
“‘s nothing,” the Doctor mumbled, trying to pull it away.
But it was too late; Yaz had seen the damage. She knew she’d heard something when the Doctor smashed the glass in the truck, and now she was seeing the damage: the side of her hand was jaggedly torn open, her palm covered in blood. It had seeped into the sleeve of her coat, staining it.
“You’re hurt,” Yaz breathed, her stomach turning at the gory injury and the realisation that she’d yanked something over it so hard. “You didn’t say.”
“More important things to worry about,” the Doctor said, pushing herself upright with her good hand, even as Yaz gingerly held the wounded one. She sounded stronger than she had only minutes ago. “Like right now. We need to get going, Yaz.”
The Doctor looked at Yaz so earnestly that she almost agreed without hesitation. Then she felt a gush of warm blood against her fingertips and shook her head. The most imminent danger had passed, and Yaz couldn’t bear the idea of the Doctor being in pain. And if the Doctor wasn’t going to look after herself, the least Yaz could do was patch her up.
“No. Just give it a second. For me. Please?” she pleaded. She turned to Kane and asked where the nearest first aid kit was, and Graham jumped at the opportunity to help.
“We don’t have a second,” the Doctor replied, a flash of steel in her gaze. She wasn’t used to people pushing back and she’d had enough of that with Kane already. But Yaz wasn’t budging. Whatever her feelings for the Doctor - and there were many of them - she needed to learn to stand her ground. She hated that the Doctor was hurting and hiding it.
“We have plenty of seconds,” Yaz insisted. “Ryan should be here. In fact, I’m sure Graham’s about to go and find him after he gets back.”
The Doctor sighed, shifting as her legs swung over the edge of the table. Yaz moved in, blocking her with her body in an attempt to stop her slipping off the side and away into danger.
“Until I wrap your hand, it’s going to bleed everywhere. And I know how much you like this coat.”
The Doctor was speechless, for once, and Yaz took that as a victory. She was still basking in it when Graham returned with a box that yielded everything Yaz needed. He hovered momentarily, before Yaz put him out of his misery.
“Go on, Graham. Go find Ryan. I think Kane will want to go with you,” Yaz suggested, hoping it was true. As much as she’d needed some space from the Doctor, she needed some time to breathe and after the fright she’d just had, she realised that space was the last thing she actually wanted. Even so, she could feel her heart pounding once they were finally left alone.
Yaz reluctantly let go of the Doctor’s hand to rummage in the kit that Graham had deposited next to her on the table. The Doctor watched her quietly and Yaz appreciated the silence. It helped her gather her thoughts as she started to clean the wound.
“Yaz, are you alright?”
Yaz was glad she had something else to concentrate on because she wasn’t sure how she’d answer that question. She was surprised by it.
“What do you think?” she eventually said, wincing in sympathy as she swiped the worst of the blood away.
“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”
Yaz sighed as she balled up the bloody material, throwing it to the floor and opening up a new one. The Doctor’s legs bumped softly against her own as she swung them impatiently. Even sitting still she was a ball of energy. Even though she’d almost died, she was eager to get back into the action without pause.
“I don’t think I know, either.”
They were quiet as Yaz finished cleaning away the blood, tilting the Doctor’s hand gently to assess how deep it was.
“This is really bad,” she grimaced, trying to ignore the nausea rolling through her stomach. She’d seen similar injuries on some of her shifts but she’d never had to deal with one this closely.
“I had to get us out of there,” the Doctor replied. “I didn’t even notice I’d done it.”
Yaz finally looked up, her eyebrow raised.
“Really?”
The Doctor nodded, but even though Yaz knew she was lying - she'd heard her gasp of pain at the time - she bit her tongue. Now wasn’t the time. Instead, she picked out a bandage and started to wrap it around the Doctor’s hand, just tight enough that it would stay put through whatever was to come next.
“Why did you try to hide it from us?”
“My hand?”
“No,” Yaz sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. The Doctor really could be completely oblivious. “The sign. You knew it was Earth.”
“I found out the same time that you did,” the Doctor insisted, watching as Yaz continued to wrap her hand.
“Even if that’s the case, you didn’t want us to see it.”
The Doctor flinched as Yaz pulled too tightly and she apologised instantly, loosening the dressing. The jagged gash was now out of sight and she taped the gauze closed.
“Done?” the Doctor asked, clearly impatient to get moving, both away from the conversation and into the next challenge. The damage was done, and now it was hidden away from prying eyes. But Yaz knew it was there, and that was enough.
“No, we’re not done,” she pushed back. “You could have died, Doctor! What just happened down there...that was terrifying. But you’re acting like it was no big deal.”
The Doctor shrugged and for the first time, Yaz realised that her sense of self-preservation was much lower than she’d thought.
“These things happen, Yaz. Orphan planets, mutant creatures, war, death, destruction...all of the very worst things the universe could offer...”
The Doctor trailed off, looking pensive.
“And?” Yaz prompted, bemused.
The Doctor finally looked at her, and Yaz couldn’t even begin to unravel her expression. She seemed haunted.
“And then, just when you lose hope, the universe surprises you. And it gives you the best things it can come up with.”
She reached for Yaz’s hand with her uninjured one, squeezing it lightly.
Yaz felt dizzy. Surely the Doctor wasn’t talking about her? Their conversation had turned very serious, very quickly, and Yaz felt hugely out of her depth. Especially when the Doctor looked at her like that, in a way that was both open and inscrutable.
“But you know what stays the same, through the good and the bad things? Both can be terrifying. And all you can do, Yaz, is hold on for the ride.”
With that, the Doctor gave Yaz a careful grin and, sensing no further opposition, hopped off the table to her feet.
Yaz was still trying to digest her words when she reached the door and turned back, something of her old self restored as she inclined her head, beckoning Yaz towards the exit.
“Yaz? You coming?”
Yaz took a breath and followed the Doctor’s lead.