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She flinches when Prem's death sounds in the form of gunshot through the open valley. She balls her fists against her sides when every instinct in every fiber of her being screams do something. Shameful tears threaten with an intense pressure behind her eyes because she knows she can do nothing.
There's been a lot of that, lately. Doing nothing when morality shouts otherwise. Each time the Doctor feels something inside her shatter - like she's defied herself and failed those around her. The laws are in place and she will always follow them to the best of her ability. Irresponsibility in time and space is something she's dabbled in before and witnessed the repercussions of. Sometimes she has to do nothing.
Gods, does it hurt, because she can't help but fixate on it.
Helplessness and herself do not go hand in hand. The Doctor has always taken solace in her ability to right certain wrongs and save certain souls. Differentiating fixed points from fluctuate points can be tricky at times, and if it weren't for the fact that saving Prem would have inadvertently erased Yaz from history, she might've snapped. It's always easier to make a judgement call when it's a matter of life and death for someone close to you - but in other senses it makes it so, so much harder.
As the four walk back to the TARDIS with heads bowed in respect and hearts aching with grief, the Doctor's mind continues to split in dozens of directions all with the same focus. She sees flashes of potential scenarios of the future, wondering if she will ever be in this same position with one of them. Her head stays down but her eyes skate over Graham, Ryan and Yaz, and each face her gaze rests on produces a frenzy of false premonitions. In her mind's eye she sees each of them dying in individual - horrifying ways, while she can do nothing but stand by and allow history to unfold.
The Doctor decides that on her life, it will never come to that.
She holds the door open for them, eyes cast away because every time she looks at them, all she can see is the worst case scenario. It hurts, and maybe it's cowardly to try and avoid that hurt, but she'll take cowardice over unnecessary pain whenever possible.
Graham and Ryan speak quietly between themselves and the Doctor circles the console, hands in her pockets, trying to decide if she should attempt to soothe their souls or allow them to process the day on their own. When she sees Yaz, downtrodden and troubled, she can't help herself.
The Doctor pushes the images of death and despair as far in the back of her mind as possible, just enough to hold a conversation with Yaz. She aims to be reassuring and comforting, and she feels like she's failed until the ghost of a somewhat more relaxed smile appears on her friend's face.
"Thank you." Yaz says, crossing her arms and slumping a little further into the wall at her back. "If I could go back and change my mind about asking you to take me there, I wouldn't. I'm - it's hard, but I'm glad I know the truth."
The Doctor nods slightly, returning the smile as best as she can. "I'm still sorry you had to witness that." She touches Yaz's arm, giving it a brief squeeze because she feels like words can't convey just how sorry she truly is. She doesn't feel responsible for Yaz's grief, necessarily, but feels for her. No one should have to walk away while a cherished one dies.
"It's alright." She holds the smile, though it looks less natural. "Think you could drop me off back home for a bit? I'd really like to see my Nani."
"You can't tell her you were there." The Doctor's voice loses a bit of it's softness. "It's-"
"-I know. I'm not. I just," She trails off, considering. "I want to hear it from her, I think. I want her to tell me what happened in her own words, coming from her, not from me snoopin'. I think." Yaz laughs tiredly. "I at least want to see her."
Somewhat satisfied, the Doctor gives her an affirming nod and walks to the console with a heavy demeanor to her step. Her hands ghost over the controls, not looking up from them as she speaks, "Do you boys want some home time as well?" She doesn't want to order them away, but she doesn't want to keep thinking about the fact that they're going to leave someday either. She needs time to process - to be alone, get her bearings, have a clearer mind for their next adventure, and accomplish all that without letting on just how emotionally exhausted she really is.
She's lost so much. Can she live through losing them too?
Ryan and Graham share a look before responding. "Yeah. Might be nice." Graham says. "Do the rounds, check in on people - mind, how long's it been since we left?"
"However long you want." The Doctor says a little stiffly, a little too quick. "The TARDIS should be cooperative. She knows it's been a long day."
They decide on a same-day return and the Doctor twists and turns and presses and pulls everything necessary. She bids them goodnight and doesn't manage to take a deep breath until she's left alone.
Even then, the tension in her shoulders doesn't ease.
She takes a moment to lean against the console and rub the heels of her palms against her eyes. With the brief blackness returns the overload, the flashes of possible deaths and sad endings, with no hope in that moment to draw her out. She opens her eyes and presses a hand to her chest because the anxiety of being nothing more than an observer still hasn't subsided. She feels the same as she did when that gunshot rang through the air and when Rosa was wrongfully arrested, and she wishes the pressure of her hand was enough to make the feeling go away. Will that be her fate with her new friends? Will she have to watch their sad ending as nothing but a helpless observer?
"Stop it." The Doctor gives herself a light thump in the temple, trying to thump the negativity right out of her brain.
It doesn't work, so for the first time in a long time she decides to take a nap.
She tries sleeping in her own bed, but she hasn't had the chance to break it in yet. It's too new, too unfamiliar, not warm enough to soothe her racing mind, so she mopes down the corridor to the library instead.
The Doctor's had the same wing-backed for centuries in there. The TARDIS wouldn't dare change it out for a fresher model.
Her coat rests over the back of it as she curls up, eyes shut, head propped up against her fist. Deprived of visual distractions, the vivid worries return. They plague every waking moment and stall every breath. She curls up tighter and forces her body to shut down. Sleep is the only thing that will shut the voices up.
Sleep ends up not working either.
Dreams full of generic sad things are bad enough. Dreams filled with nothing but sad endings are a whole other story.
She sees every worse case scenario. She sees her friends die over and over again in the most horrific, blood curdling ways. Each time she sees herself in position to right the wrong. To save their lives. Put an end to the grief before it can happen.
And in every dream, the Doctor just stands there and observes.
She watches herself watch her loved ones die a thousand times over before her eyes fly open.
A palm dragging down the length of her face and one arm curled against her chest, she presses her forehead to her knees and tries not to cry. Ryan, Graham and Yaz are all safe at home, but her hearts continue to ache as if their souls have already left this world.
She comes to the conclusion that it's unbearable and she never wants to close her eyes again.
Every trip from then on is very carefully mapped out. The terrain is very carefully scanned, the environment is very carefully considered. The Doctor leads them into each adventure with as close as possible to one hundred percent certainty of their safety. She never takes her eyes off them. She owes them that. She invited them on board - they're her responsibility.
It's been weeks since the Punjab, and the tightness in her chest hasn't lessened one bit.
They stand before a creature the Doctor didn't know existed. If she had known, she'd never have let them leave the TARDIS this morning.
The Doctor witnesses the being who identifies it's species as the Vroqril take more lives than she has the stability to count. It goes off on rant after rant on how the civilization it stands before is the reason it's the last of it's kind. Revenge in it's most vile form hits too close to home. The Doctor, Yaz, Ryan and Graham are in the thick of it.
"You have to stop this!" The Doctor hopes the desperation she feels isn't too apparent in her shouts. Weakness isn't an option. She can't let anyone else die.
The Vroqril has it's alien equivalent of a hand wrapped around a man's arm, and the instant the contact is made the man begins to tremble with the energy coursing through his body and overloading his heart. Within seconds he drops to the ground to join the pile of bodies with the same fate.
The Doctor clenches her fists and grits her teeth until it hurts. She strides closer without a care in the world because now, the Vroqril is getting dangerously close to where Yaz, Ryan and Graham all stand in guard for the family they'd befriended on their regretful adventure. A mother and her two children stand behind them, all wide eyed as the creature grows closer.
"Don't you dare!" The Doctor breaks into a full sprint now, and she's chilled by the confident slowness of the Vroqril's steps.
Her companions form a wall between the family and the being that wishes to end their lives. Each of their eyes scream not on my watch and given a different scenario, the Doctor might've managed a feeling of pride. She's close enough to hear conversation now, and something in her begins to soar with relief as she hears the creature state that it has no quarrel with her friends and that they have the choice to walk away unscathed.
Of course she doesn't want the family to die, and she will absolutely prevent it from happening. Somehow.
But ninety-nine percent of her is fixated on the waking nightmares that her brain has been plaguing her with day after day. For a moment all she can think is do not lay a finger on my family.
She's standing before them now, hands fishing in her pockets for the sonic that she knows will be completely useless.
Ryan speaks up when the Vroqril extends it's hand towards one of the children. "Mate, don't even think about it."
The Doctor's hearts stop when the creature's hand changes it's path.
When it closes around Ryan's wrist, she doesn't think twice.
She takes the two final steps separating her from the conflict and pushes Yaz aside to grab Ryan's free hand. She feels it instantly - the ripple of pain and weakness flowing from Ryan's body to hers as she absorbs it all. Accepts it all. She'll take on that burden for him because it's the least she can do. It won't kill her, she's got a backup heart that he doesn't. As the uncomfortable energy turns to a weakness in her knees and agony flaring in her chest, sending her cross eyed and crying out, she regrets nothing.
It's too much for the Vroqril, which is one tiny victory amidst the sea of bodies. The Doctor manages a sense of triumph as the energy flows right back into the creature tenfold. She makes it worse, intentionally - squeezing the life out of Ryan's hand and forcing the energy to intensify until it sends the Vroqril to a scream and eventually to the ground.
Ryan stumbles back, sagging against Graham's ready shoulder with a hand pressed to his head. The Doctor falls to her knees.
She feels one heart in her chest stutter to a stop and she has to bite her tongue to keep from groaning in pain. She's nearly at eye level with her fallen enemy, and she'd probably spit on his horrific face if she had the energy.
Yaz is on her knees, an arm around the Doctor's shoulders to keep her from slumping into the dusty ground. "Are you okay?"
The Doctor nods quickly, eyes dirt beneath her fingers and mind somewhere else entirely. She bites her tongue again through another wave of pain that almost sends her into blackness, and she focuses on it. Ironically, she feels more okay than she has in ages. The pain is just enough to shut up the voices in her head, and she's eternally grateful.
With a bit of Yaz's help she manages to stand, and holds her composure enough to give off the necessarily illusion that she's more or less perfectly fine.
"Ryan." The Doctor half stumbles over to where Graham is holding his arms to steady him. "Are you okay?"
Ryan turns his head to look at the family he was protecting, only to find them fleeing the scene as quickly as possible. Seeing them far away from any other potential danger seems to be what answers the question he was asking himself as well. He drops his hand from where it's pressed against his temple and nods a little shakily. "Yeah. Are you?"
The Doctor smiles to her best ability. "I'm good. Yaz, Graham? You guys alright?"
Graham's worried eyes are still fixed on his grandson. "Alright."
"Alright." Yaz agrees, looking almost equally traumatized. "Thought we nearly lost you two there."
Luckily the physical agony keeps the Doctor from delving into just how much she agrees with Yaz's comment. She looks around at the sea of fallen civilians with a shadow of a shudder. She doesn't know, really, whether they were truly responsible for the extinction of the Vroqril, and with one final glance at the creature on the ground, she's simply thankful she was granted the opportunity to be more than an observer.
"Is there anything we can do? You know, for-" Yaz trails off, overwhelmed with sadness for the slack faces pressed against the dirt everywhere she looked.
The Doctor considers, taking a moment to watch those still crouched over their fallen loved ones. Her working heart aches just as much as the failed one with the grief she sees on their features. "They'll hold a burial and memorial for everyone they lost. It'll be more respectful of us to leave them alone than it would be to offer to help."
"Are you sure?" Graham questions hesitantly, his sympathy radiating in waves.
The Doctor nods solemnly. "Let's go home."
She lets the three of them take the lead so that for a moment, just a moment, she can let down her walls. She hunches and clutches her chest, breathing through the pain until she has the ability to walk after them.
Everyone's heads are bowed as they leave the battlefield behind, and the deja vu that threatens to make a brutal appearance is squashed when the physical pain becomes too much.
A cry of terrible discomfort leaves her mouth as she stops walking, shoulders slumping and face scrunched up as she tries to breathe it away. Everyone's heads turn, everyone breaks their stride, everyone's eyes go wide when they see her stumble to the left.
Ryan and Yaz are the quickest and catch her by their arms hooked under hers as the Doctor slumps towards the ground. Ryan accepts most of the weight, frantic as he gently lowers her head to the dirt with the sound Graham's hurried footsteps growing nearer.
"Doctor!" Yaz urges, palm on the side of the Doctor's head to turn it in her direction.
The Doctor blinks rapidly, eyes never opening quite all the way. She starts to speak, hoping her brain finds something reassuring along the way, but as soon as her mouth opens all she can manage is another groan.
"What happened?" Ryan demands to anyone who might hold the answer. "Is this from you saving me from that thing?"
The Doctor's silence is her answer, and she deliberately closes her eyes to keep from having to vocalize it.
"It is, isn't it?" His face drops at the realization. "Why'd you do it then?!"
Does he really not know that she'd lay her life down for any of them any day? Do any of them know?
"'m okay." Her words are slurred and hard to make out. "You wouldn't 'ave been."
Yaz, Ryan and Graham all exchange a look of realization that brings sadness to their eyes and sheer determination to their actions. "Up you get." Yaz orders, slipping her arm behind the Doctor's back to try and help her sit up. "We're getting to the TARDIS and we're sorting you out. Do you know what's wrong, or just that it hurts?"
The silence is thick as they wait for her response. The Doctor manages to maintain a seated position with most of her upper body slumped against Yaz, and she holds her tongue.
"We need you to help us help you, Doc." Graham demands. "You saved our arses, so let us save yours."
"What he said." Ryan's addition is accompanied with a weakness to his voice that the Doctor has never heard from him before. He sounds guilty.
She stays quiet for a moment longer, eyes fluttering open but gaze fixated on her boots. "Stopped a heart, but I've got a backup." There's a twinkle in her eye that allows everyone to relax the tiniest bit. She's breathless, eyes trying to droop shut with the exhaustion every word brings. "Think the battery's a bit low, though." Her head lulls against Yaz's shoulder, and she's suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of fondness and trust. Good thing, too, because she's probably about to have no choice but to trust them. "I don't feel well."
Yaz holds her head in place and absentmindedly stroked her forehead with her thumb as her other hand reaches for the Doctor's. She presses her fingers to her wrist to get some sort of feel for the severity of the situation herself, then pats her arm to add emphasis to her insistence. "Can you stand?"
The Doctor nods against her shoulder though she doesn't believe herself for a second. She lifts her head successfully at least, and allows Yaz, Graham and Ryan all to grip her arms and pull her to her feet. Immediately, she crashes back down.
All three of them catch her.
Yaz and Ryan each hook an arm beneath hers and Graham grabs her legs. The Doctor's head falls back as the last of her consciousness slips, and she's left in the hands of her worried, very capable, very determined friends.
It's awkward walking with the Time Lord dangling between the three of them, but they make a silent vow not to let her fall under any circumstance. They owe her that. At the very, very least - they owe her that.
When they reach the TARDIS who's doors open on their own accord, the Doctor still hasn't budged. With the care and attentiveness akin to a mother laying her child in bed, they lower the Doctor to the console room floor and kneel at her side.
No one moves for a moment, and they know they're all thinking the same thing.
Yaz sighs with relief that's pretty short lived when she places a hand on the Doctor's chest. "Her heart's pounding. Probably trying to pick up the slack."
"If her species has two hearts then there's probably a good reason." Graham says regretfully. "I wonder how long she can last with just one."
"Let's not wait around to find out." Ryan's expression hardens. "She saved my life. She's not losing her own because of it."
Graham and Yaz nod quickly in serious agreement, but no one moves.
None of them know what to do.
"She said this thing's telepathic, right?" Graham quips.
"She also said not to call her a thing." Yaz isn't trying to lighten the situation with humor, she's trying to respect the person more deserving of that respect than anyone else.
"Can the TARDIS help?" Ryan asks hopefully, and to everyone's relief he's met with an immediate response.
Something on the console beeps, drawing their attention, and Yaz rises to her feet to examine it more closely. The displays for the first time she's seen read in English, clear as day, and the simple knowledge of how to solve a pressing problem allows some of the tension in her shoulders to subside. "Alright. First thing is getting her to the medbay. We'll be able to fix it from there."
Ryan and Graham don't ask any questions as they re-assume their earlier positions. Once Yaz has a hold on the Doctor's left arm they all lift her again and worm their way through the corridor until the blessed bright white lights of the medical bay can be seen.
Yaz takes the liberty of removing the Doctor's coat before they settle her fully into bed. She's limp as a ragdoll, drooping from one side to the other depending on how they moved her.
"Now what?" Ryan looks to Yaz.
"Uh," Yaz silently goes through the list of instructions that are probably stamped into her memory forever. "It said defibrillation is a last resort, but that it'll work if we have to. Otherwise-" She's already flipping through drawers and opening every cabinet as she comes across it. "There's this stuff we're supposed to inject directly into her heart. Hope you two aren't squeamish."
They all exchange an odd laugh because they know even if they were, it wouldn't make a difference.
"Come on, help me look." Yaz's rifling grows more frantic when her eyes fixate a little to long on the pallor of the Doctor's skin. "I doubt it'll look like a regular syringe. It's green though, and-"
"Is this it?" Ryan holds up a finger sized cylinder shaped object that was the closest to a futuristic injection any of them could find.
Yaz takes it and twirls it between her hands, nodding in satisfaction when she sees a match for each of the TARDIS's descriptions. "Yep." She gives it one more analytic look. "Looks like you just press the button on the top. Who wants to do the honors?" She holds it up like it's a the last piece of pizza.
Ryan eyes the object then looks to his left. "Will you do it, Graham? I would but," his eyes show true regret. "Hand-eye coordination is already dodgy. Definitely don't trust myself with that under pressure."
Graham doesn't mind of course, but as he takes it from Yaz's hand he pauses long enough to ask, "Why me?"
Ryan shrugs. "It should be me, but I'll feel less guilty if it's at least someone-"
"In the family?" Yaz dares when Ryan falls silent, and her voice radiates understanding.
Ryan doesn't respond but makes a point not to deny. Graham exhales slowly, wishing the scenario were light enough that he could tease his grandson for actually acknowledging him as a family member, and give him a hug to top it off that he knows Ryan would shrug out of.
Instead, he takes one more steadying breath and leans over the Doctor. Yaz pulls the neckline of her shirt down just enough and points to the spot the TARDIS had shown her to inject. Now, Graham can't help but hold his breath as he presses the button and waits for the hiss it emits to die down completely before he pulls away.
No one dares to blink and everyone takes a step back as if it'll give her more room to breathe.
The Doctor's eyes fly open and she inhales sharply, loudly, and everyone is instantly back at her side.
"Thank god." Ryan hangs over the head of the bed with his forehead resting on his arms, body weak with relief. Graham twists his hands together and smiles, impossibly wide, shaking his hands in front of his chest to give thanks to whatever miraculous higher power gave them this victory.
Yaz immediately sits on the edge of the bed, grabbing the Doctor's hand as she watches her eyes dart around and her chest heave with visible struggle. "Breathe. Breathe. You're alright." She smiles and squeezes her hand, presses two fingers to the pulse point in her neck and her smile grows wider when she feels both hearts beating rapidly, but strongly. Yaz repeats herself for everyone's sake. "You're alright."
The Doctor concentrates on regaining control of oxygen intake and closes her eyes to focus, lulling her head tiredly to one side and squinting her eyes open to find Yaz's watching her intently. She blinks, adjusting to the light, taking in every face in the room that stares her down with concern and a type of happiness she's never seen them wear before. "Good morning." Her voice is raspy, but it's music to their ears. "Hope I didn't miss too much."
Everyone laughs so brightly and eagerly that she can't help but smile. For the briefest of moments, she can feel her thoughts starting to run away back to a dark place. It's so easy to drift off in that direction, but maybe a shock to her system was just what she needed to get back on track - because she realizes something now.
"Never ever do that again." Ryan looms over her face from the head of the bed.
"Seriously." Graham adds, and sits down heavily with the weight of their taxing day sounding as he hits the chair. "Never."
"Well it's not on my to-do list, I can promise you that." The Doctor assures, attempting to throw in the right amount of humor as she usually does when the spotlight stays fixed in her direction for too long. Though with a slight shot to her ego, no one laughs.
"Doctor," Yaz shifts so that the Doctor can meet her eyes more comfortably. "No more almost dying. Do you promise?"
"No one can promise-"
"No." Ryan interrupts. "Promise us you will never do anything like that again."
"You can't take bullets for the universe, Doc." Graham says, but there's a hint of something almost hidden in his eyes that betrays how thankful he is that she saved his grandson's life.
The realization hits harder, but it's more of a reminder of the philosophy she'd unintentionally abandoned.
Everyone dies. Everything ends, and if you let it - that makes everything sad.
But she realizes, fully and completely, that these moments with them - her gang. The laughs, the adrenaline rushes, the joy that they bring to her old soul, is something she'd be a complete fool to waste by wallowing in what may or may not come.
Everyone dies. Everything ends. Accept what you can't change and make the most of what you have.
The Doctor smiles tiredly and her eyes threaten to close. "Gonna need a bit more sleep before our next trip - hope you don't mind."
Everyone laughs again and she's sure now. It's the most beautiful sound she's ever heard.
"Thank you. All of you. I owe you one."
She'll make the most of what she has for as long as she has it. She'll enjoy every second that they choose to spend with her and note waste a single second of it.
Ryan scoffs and Graham rolls his eyes.
Yaz tilts her head and speaks so softly, so sincerely. "You really don't."