Chapter Text
She stretched her arms out first, wincing at the sight of bandages wrapping her wrists.
Ugh.
On mornings like this-that is, the mornings after the nights after the days she fails herself, when she climbs into bed, dizzy from blood loss with the skin on her arms held together with butterfly bandages, giant bandaids and an ace wrap or a scarf, or whatever she can get her hands on in her bleary-eyed three AM haze, there’s always that feeling like she’d been confronted with a huge mess to clean after having just woken up. And that mess was her.
Lorena frowned at the tightly-bound gauze, recalling the previous evening’s events.
There was a pounding in her head and a throbbing in her wrists, just a bit out of sync and it was driving her mad. She glanced over to her left to find the Doctor, exactly how she left him. Right ankle crossed over the left, left arm over his right. Head back against the board and barely breathing.
Okay...I’ve got company. Let me make him something...what time is it?
Lazy eyes glared at the alarm clock that wasn’t actually very good at it, flashing 8:56.
She groaned and eased herself out of bed, bony feet finding the cold floor. Shivering, she wrapped herself up in her dressing gown, slid into the socks her mother bought her and tiptoed into the kitchen. She put the water on but found the french press already heavy with coffee.
“Huh.”
Larissa must’ve made some before she left…
She wiped her eyes and left the water to boil, in case the Doctor wanted tea.
Right, breakfast. People eat breakfast.
Lorena opened the fridge and stared glumly at leftover Thai food, a soggy cannoli and an empty container of milk. She sighed and threw the last two in the bin, running her hands through her hair.
Why do I feel stressed?
No, I know why I feel stressed.
I just hate that I do.
“Oi, where’d the milk go?”
“What?”
“The milk, where’d you put it?” Larissa asked, holding a bowl of dry cereal.
“I thought you had work?”
“Nah, Mike covered me.”
“Ah.”
“The milk?”
She breathed in sharply and stood up.
“I threw it out, it was empty.”
“Oh. Dammit…” she muttered and turned to head into the living room.
Is she about to eat dry cereal?
…was she already eating dry cereal?
“Well, maybe you should buy more next time.”
“You look like shit,” Larissa called.
“Thanks, Lari.”
“No, seriously, the hell were you doing last night?”
While she thought of an answer, the Doctor padded into the kitchen.
“Good morning ladies.”
He marched up to the sofa where Larissa was sitting.
“You must be Larissa!” He grinned.
“Ah. So he’s what you were doing!”
Lorena huffed.
“No-it’s not-it’s not what you think, it’s…”
“Yes it issssssss.”
Larissa smiled at the Doctor.
“Pleasure. I’m Larissa. You can call me Lari, though. Or Rissa. Or just point.”
He smiled back and she called to the kitchen again.
“He’s got nice teeth!” She shouted.
“Thanks, I quite like them myself,” he agreed.
Lorena rolled her eyes.
“Lari, shut up. Doctor, there’s coffee, but the water’s ready if you wanted tea.”
“That sounds positively splendid.” He sauntered to the kitchen with hands clasped behind his back.
“Doctor? What’s that, like a pet name? I’ve heard ‘Daddy’ before, but-“
“Larissa can you not ?”
She was met with a shit eating grin from her flatmate on the sofa, which she pointedly ignored and turned her attention back to the Doctor.
“So? What’s it gonna be?”
“Coffee’s fine. Black.”
She nodded and handed him a steaming mug, pouring hers as well.
“Wish I could put some milk in it. It’s a shame somebody DRANK IT ALL!” Lorena shouted.
The Doctor grinned and she smiled at him.
“So, where to next? I mean, people usually eat breakfast, I think and I haven’t really got anything edible in here, so if you’re hungry then I suppose we could-“
“Why aren’t you hungry?”
Lorena shrugged.
“I’m just not? I don’t know. I mean, I ate like, two bowls of food last night.”
“One and a half.” He took a sip. “All of which ended up in the toilet within four minutes so it doesn’t count.” The Doctor stared at the ground for a moment, mouth open just a bit like he’s not sure whether he should say what he wants to.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
Lorena gulped.
“About-“
“Hurting yourself.”
She flinched and he gave her this mildly apologetic look, as if to say ‘I know it’s jarring and hearing the words makes you want to run, but how can you face your demons if you can’t even name what they’ve done to you?’
Lorena took a shaky gulp of coffee that wobbled on its way down her throat.
“Not particularly.”
He smiled at the floor in that utterly broken way of his and then snapped back like a rubber band, animated as ever.
“Right! Well, how do you fancy breakfast in the future?”
“I erm...sure. That sounds wonderful.”
“Thought so. I’ll be in the TARDIS, get dressed.
“Wait-is there like, a dress code, or something?”
He scratched his head.
“Er...yeah, just don’t wear orange.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like it.”
She scoffed, he slunk down the hallway and into her bedroom.
“He’s a nutter!” shouted the voice from the sofa, “But cute.”
Lorena tore through her things and took the clothing to the bathroom-she did not want a repeat of what happened last time. She changed, did her makeup, blew her hair dry and emerged from the bathroom in a long-sleeved dress, sheer tights and flats. She checked herself in the mirror one last time and shut the door. The Doctor was lying on his back on her bed, staring at the stupid little glow-in-the-dark stars she’d stuck onto the ceiling one drunken night in July with her ex. She swallowed the memory; Beatles on the portable record player in her bookcase and cheap wine in coffee mugs. The record player felt like it was watching her from just behind the TARDIS, on it’s shelf next to that copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy she’d bought in Vienna. The cashier had looked just like her mother...
“Lorena? You there?”
She shook herself out of the reverie.
“Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out.”
“I said you look lovely.”
A smile and its blush dusted her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
She followed him inside for a short, bumpy ride to 2184. They emerged on a fairly ordinary city street and she was led inside a restaurant that was blue-very blue. Tiffany blue.
“Is this-?”
He grinned.
“Blue Box Cafe, one hundred and sixty-three years in the future.”
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d still be around.”
She was interrupted by the hostess, who took their coats and led them to a table the Doctor claimed to have reserved three hundred years ago, but never showed up until now.
They were seated and given menus. Tea was ordered along with finger sandwiches and various sweets, including something called a ‘Blue Box Petit-Four’, the irony of which was not lost on Lorena. The Doctor smiled at her.
“Look, they named it after my TARDIS!” He said, as the waitress teetered away.
They talked. Apparently, in the future, things weren’t too different from Lorena’s time, aside from a few technological advances, wars, etc. Buenos Aires had been wiped off the map by bug aliens and in its place lay a singed wasteland. The seas had swallowed all the land with low elevation, though a few cities managed to hold back the oceans with dykes and dams and the like, buying themselves a few years.
Those were pretty much the only major differences, though. Lorena found that surprising.
“Why?”
“I dunno, I just figured there’d be...robots everywhere, and flying cars and things.”
“There are. Just not quite yet.”
She nodded.
“Right…”
Lorena took a bite of a cucumber and goat cheese sandwich, giggling a little as crumbs fell from her mouth, which she covered with her hand in embarrassment.
The Doctor smiled, and it was genuine. And so were his smiles for the rest of the day, and the rest of the week. At least, she thought it had been about a week. He’d shown her so much, yet there was so much left. And it was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. She should have realised that it wouldn’t last.