Chapter Text
Yaz decided not to sleep that night. She knew it wouldn’t end well and decided to nip the nightmares in the bud before they even started.
When Graham inquired, concerned that she must be exhausted after the day she’d had, Yaz shrugged it off and blamed jetlag - although she supposed that could be a semi-permanent excuse, travelling as they did through space and time - and ignored the way the Doctor watched her from across the room. She was busy with Oh, trying to figure out how Yaz had ended up transported half-way across the world, but from the corner of her eye, Yaz could see the Doctor looking at them as Graham supplied her with endless cups of tea. Despite the warm weather, Yaz accepted all of them and drank them quietly, relieved to feel her tongue tingle as the hot water hit it. She could practically feel the sugar coat her teeth and knew Graham had put more in than usual to try and help with the shock.
She was alive. She had never not been alive, despite appearances to the contrary.
Yaz shivered, despite the subtle warmth of the mug in her hands, and stared blankly at the wall. She knew she was probably being rude and that Graham was only trying to help, but she couldn’t figure out what to say. In a way, it was her own fault she’d ended up in that strange place.
After all, the Doctor had asked how she and Ryan felt about undercover work and Yaz had leapt at the opportunity. She’d wanted to prove she could be useful, worthy of the Doctor’s trust, and it’d be years before undercover work was even an option in her actual day job. The fact that the Doctor had suggested they do it in the first place was an unexpected surprise and Yaz had shoved down any apprehension at the idea, even when the Doctor had estimated their safety as being only 40% guaranteed.
Yaz traced her thumb mindlessly across the mug's handle, feeling the smooth ceramic calm her anxiety. After a beat, Graham took the hint and moved away and Yaz felt some of the tension leave her body the moment she was left alone. That was all she wanted. Some time to think.
Time. Something that travelling with the Doctor held so much promise of. Except Yaz had been certain she’d run out of it.
She glanced down at her watch, which had resumed ticking when she re-emerged in Australia. It had been unnerving to see it frozen on her wrist, especially because time seemed to lose all sense of meaning in that strange place. She could have been gone for five minutes or five hours and it would have felt the same. All Yaz knew was that she was relieved to be back on Earth, and back with the Doctor.
The Doctor’s face had been a very welcome sight.
When she'd been absorbed by the glowing shape, Yaz had screamed into a void and when she'd emerged on the other side, alone, she'd immediately wished the Doctor had been there. The Doctor wouldn’t have been scared. The Doctor would have come out with some kind of quip, or lick something and tell Yaz how old it was. The Doctor would have made her feel infinitely better about the situation she was in, in a way that she made as effortless as breathing. The Doctor would make Yaz feel better just by being herself.
As if she could hear Yaz's thoughts, the woman in question stopped what she was doing and spoke quietly to Oh.
“I think I’ve got it from here,” the Doctor said, and Yaz kept her attention focused on the wall as she heard him leave the room. The moment he closed the door, the Doctor dropped all pretence of working.
"Yaz? Mind if I join you?"
Yaz nodded, eyes still fixed straight ahead.
The Doctor settled herself on the sofa next to her, close enough for their legs to be pressed together. Yaz could feel the solid warmth of the Doctor's thigh through two layers of material.
"I love a good wall," the Doctor said, looking forward. If the situation had been any different, Yaz would have laughed.
"Well. When things aren't walking through them," she amended.
Yaz felt a strangled noise escape her lips as she remembered the shape emerge out of thin air in Barton's office, right before she'd been taken. She could still hear the voice as clear as day.
OBSTACLE
"Sorry, Yaz," the Doctor apologised. "Sorry. I didn't think. Are you alright?"
She shifted and her boot nudged Yaz's foot, but it was hard to tell if it was accidental or a deliberate attempt at contact. Truly, all Yaz wanted was some simple comfort but she wasn't sure the Doctor was that kind of person. Words, yes, she could do words. But Yaz craved a hug and the Doctor didn't seem too comfortable with those. She could be expressive with her hands but the moment anyone touched her, she seemed to shrink away, and that was the last thing Yaz wanted. Even though she was in dire need of some kind of physical connection, she didn’t want to cross a line. Yaz could feel tears pooling in her eyes and she refused to look down at their feet, knowing they'd spill over.
So, she shrugged.
"I am now," she whispered, throat rasping despite the tea. She cleared her throat.
Cool hands clasped her own and eased the mug from them. It was only then that Yaz realised that her hands were shaking.
"It's alright not to be, you know," the Doctor continued, depositing the mug on the table.
Yaz finally broke her staring competition with the wall and turned to look at her.
"Is it?"
She needed permission to feel like this. She felt like she'd let the Doctor down. And part of her thought the Doctor might have failed her. When she’d been back in that place, all she’d wanted was for the Doctor to be there. She knew it was silly, practically impossible, but that didn’t stop the thought from entering her mind. Would the Doctor have ever found Yaz if she hadn’t teleported back by chance? Yaz shook her head, trying to dispel that line of thinking. The Doctor would always get her out of trouble. She had to believe that.
The Doctor's face softened and she pursed her lips when she saw the struggle Yaz was having with keeping herself together.
"Of course it is, Yaz."
"But you... you're so strong, Doctor. No matter what happens. How do you do it?"
"I'm very old, Yaz. Possibly a bit jaded, if I'm honest. I've seen a lot of things in my time. Probably forgotten a few things, too. But one thing I do know is that it's alright to be scared. It keeps you sharp, Yaz. It can keep you alive. Adrenaline is one of the most powerful drugs in the universe."
Adrenaline. The Doctor really was an adrenaline junkie, Yaz mused. She probably was, too, when she thought about it. Normally it made her feel so alive but not today. Today it had led her into trouble.
A calloused thumb traced the veins on the back of Yaz's hand and she relaxed into the gentle touch, surprised that the Doctor had reached out. She was never particularly tactile and the gesture spoke volumes.
"And it's my duty to keep you alive too, Yaz. I don’t take that lightly."
Yaz exhaled shakily.
“I didn’t think I was going to get out of there. I thought I was dead,” she admitted, and as foolish as it now seemed, given that she was very much alive, it felt like a relief to say the word aloud.
The Doctor finally took Yaz’s hand into her own and Yaz held her breath.
“Yaz, look at me.”
She turned, unsure what to expect.
“I will never let that happen, Yaz. I promise.”
Yaz’s first thought was to point out that even the Doctor couldn’t guarantee that, but she sidelined it. She wanted to believe her, more than anything. And of all the people in the world - the universe - who could keep her safe, the Doctor was her best bet. She nodded and the motion set free a tear that she quickly wiped away.
“Oh, Yaz,” the Doctor sighed. “C’mere.”
Before she knew what was happening, the Doctor had pulled her into a slightly awkward hug, but all Yaz could feel was gentle reassurance enveloping her as the Doctor gathered her in her arms. Her head was pressed flat against the Doctor’s sternum but Yaz settled there easily, picking out the steady pounding of the Doctor’s hearts with her ear. She listened to the rhythm, awed by its strangeness as she closed her eyes and focused on it, trying to mirror the Doctor’s steady breathing even as her own heart raced at the intimacy of what they were doing.
“You sure you don’t want to sleep?”
Yaz could hear the Doctor’s voice rumbling through her chest.
“Yeah.”
“Want to help me work on something instead?”
Yaz reluctantly pulled away, instantly missing the contact. But she knew the Doctor wouldn’t appreciate her clinging to her like that for much longer.
“Sure,” she smiled. “Although I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
“Don’t say that, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor chided gently. “You’re just the person I need.”
Between the two of them, they’d speculated about the data from Barton’s office and what it might mean. The distraction had worked, and Yaz had found herself caught up in the Doctor’s enthusiasm for solving this new problem, despite the chill that she couldn’t seem to shake. When her mind wandered for too long, she pictured the eerie columns rising from the fog, her own voice echoing in her ears.
It helped that the Doctor had been impressed with her retrieval of the data, and Yaz had felt a swell of pride at the recognition. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d put herself in a similar situation in a hurry.
Except not long after that she found herself on a motorbike, being shot at. The Doctor seemed to bear the brunt of it since she was practically leading the charge, but Yaz felt a thrill as she zipped between the vines, Oh at her back and adrenaline sending her heart into palpitations. There was a crucial difference, this time. With the Doctor nearby, Yaz knew they’d succeed.
Then it had all gone pear-shaped.
The man who called himself Oh had not been Oh at all. The Doctor had been snatched from before their very eyes and the plane Yaz, Ryan, and Graham were on had nearly crashed, until the Doctor had managed to rescue them. Of course she had . Even though the Doctor was no doubt in the creepiest place Yaz had ever experienced - and that included the antizone where they’d met Ribbons - she’d somehow managed to stop them all from dying.
The events that followed had unfolded so rapidly that when Yaz found herself on the run with Graham and Ryan it felt like they’d entered yet another parallel dimension. Except Yaz was pretty certain Essex was unique to their own planet.
Yaz loosened the sash around her waist and let her head come to rest on the wall behind her as she tried to relax. Ryan was out like a light, snoring softly, and she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at his ability to sleep almost anywhere. Her mind wouldn’t stop churning, thinking about her family, her career, and, inevitably, the Doctor. Yaz actively tried not to think about the place the Doctor was in, or how she’d get out of it.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice Graham watching her.
“You alright, Yaz?” he asked quietly. Apparently he was having the same troubles with sleep that she was.
Yaz sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the half-completed ceiling.
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“That’s an understatement if ever I heard one,” Graham laughed, folding his arms and stretching out his legs to get comfortable. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll keep watch.”
“No, it’s ok. You get some sleep. I can’t quite switch my brain off, anyway.”
“Did you want to talk about it?” Graham asked, spreading his hands in an encouraging gesture.
Still, Yaz hesitated.
“You don’t have to tell me everything. Just something. Might help take a load off.”
Yaz looked over at him.
“Do you think she’s okay?”
Graham knew exactly who Yaz was talking about.
“The Doc? She’ll be fine, Yaz.”
“That place, though…” Yaz trailed off, unwilling to talk about it.
“You got out. I still don’t know how, but you got out. And she will, too. She’ll talk her way out of there if she has to.”
Yaz shook her head.
“There’s no-one there, Graham. It’s just...empty. Like the inner workings of something. Somewhere you’re not meant to go.”
Graham frowned.
“And has that ever stopped her before?”
Yaz had to laugh at that.
“No. You’re right.” She sighed, rolling her shoulders to relieve some tension. Graham eyed her warily.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying but you really do look like you could do with some sleep.”
“I’ll sleep once we get her back,” Yaz declared, crossing her legs at the ankles and hearing them click. She really wanted to go for a run, rather than be on the run; burn off some excess energy and tension and tire herself out enough to sleep properly.
They were quiet for a long moment, so long that Yaz wondered if Graham might have nodded off after all.
“She was worried about you as well, you know. After she sent the pair of you off to interview Barton, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.”
“Oh?”
The thought that the Doctor worried about her sent a ripple of warmth through Yaz.
“Yeah. I had a word after you left. About what we’d do if you got into trouble. But she knew the two of you would look out for one another.”
Yaz looked over at Ryan, who’d apologised repeatedly after the incident in Barton’s office. She knew he felt guilty about what had happened and that there was little chance he’d have been able to stop it from happening, but the incident had served to illustrate that they’d both been in incredible danger. That they weren’t as invulnerable as the Doctor seemed to be.
“We’ll always look out for each other. The three of us will, won’t we?”
Graham nodded firmly.
“Always. And we have the Doc. Well. When she gets back, anyway.”
“She’s going to have a lot of explaining to do when she does.”
“I’ve still not forgiven her for that iced tea. I meant to ask, did you ever tell her you liked it?”
Yaz cast her mind back. When they’d visited Alabama, Yaz had mentioned she enjoyed drinking it when they’d seen some in a local restaurant. But that had been months ago, and only a passing mention.
“Once, yeah.”
“She made that especially for you.”
Yaz didn’t quite know what to say. It had been the worst iced tea she’d ever tried but the fact the Doctor had made it for her changed her perspective. As unpalatable as it had been, Yaz wished she’d appreciated it more at the time. The Doctor had handed her a glass and moved quickly onto decrypting the alien code they’d recovered. If Graham hadn’t told Yaz, she’d have been none the wiser.
“Still, better than the tea that Master chap was making. I’d take the Doc’s attempt at a drink over his any day. I knew there was something not right about him, you know. And he had a whole portfolio on the Doc, just sitting on a shelf. Asked if I wanted to take a look.”
“Did you?”
“Nah. I figure the Doc will tell us in her own time.”
Yaz nodded mutely, although she wasn’t so sure. The Doctor had been very good at keeping them at arm’s length, much to her frustration. All she ever wanted was an insight into who she really was. Where she was from. What made her tick.
When the Doctor finally reappeared and right in the nick of time, Yaz was so relieved to see her that she almost didn’t realise she wasn’t alone.
She frowned as she regarded the two women who accompanied her, confused by their old-fashioned outfits. The Doctor had dashed off, muttering something about a laminator, and returned alone. By the time she came back to collect her companions, Yaz was utterly wrung out by the events of the day, running on fumes and more than ready for a rest. When they made their way back to the TARDIS, the mood was muted and the Doctor chivvied them away so that they could recover. Yaz wanted to know more about what had happened, but when she went in search of the Doctor later, she was nowhere to be found.
In fact, even when the Doctor did emerge, she was so distant that Yaz was worried something terrible had happened in the interim. The Doctor insisted on taking them home, then returning as usual in a few days so that they could go off and visit more of the universe together. She glossed over what had occurred, telling them they could discuss it properly once they’d had some rest.
Except the first time she returned, the Doctor didn’t talk about it. And each time she returned after that, she seemed even more haunted than the time before. Yaz couldn’t figure it out. What was happening in between these trips? She wanted to ask more than anything but the Doctor’s demeanour suggested that would not be wise.
The Doctor had been a comforting presence for Yaz in Australia, and now Yaz was helpless to return the favour. It hurt, as much as she tried not to let it get to her.
They travelled to five different planets, each of them unique and new and utterly wonderful, and the Doctor had been her usual knowledgeable self, but something had been...off. She’d barely spoken, reciting facts almost by rote, physically shrinking in on herself and leaving her companions at a loss.
Graham had been the one to finally ask the Doctor about what was going on, after a discussion between the three of them one rainy afternoon back home in Sheffield. It had felt like the end of an era, in a way. Until then, they’d been content to carry on as usual, but something had to give when the Doctor was so unlike her usual self. Graham was clearly perturbed by what Oh had hinted at, and although Yaz didn’t want to trust what he’d said, it irked her that she knew so little, despite everything that had happened. She wanted to know everything.
Yaz hung back, watching the Doctor give them the low-down of who she was. The basics.
Kasterborous. Gallifrey. Yaz wondered how she’d even spell those words if she tried to write them down, but they flowed from the Doctor’s tongue so easily. Mellifluous reminders of knowledge that the Doctor had kept so readily hidden from them.
The moment the Doctor mentioned home, Yaz lit up. She had only briefly mentioned snippets of her past - like her multiple grannies, or the fact she was a sister in an aqua hospital, which Yaz had never heard of in her life - and then she’d clam up or move onto the next thing. At first, Yaz had thought it was a quirk, the way in which her mind worked, but now she wasn’t so sure. She had a feeling that the Doctor was being selective with the truth.
When the Doctor turned and practically fled at the mention of her home, Yaz knew something was truly wrong.