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Chapter Text

The Master looked at the Doctor, backdropped by his grotesque hybrids of Time Lords and Cybermen. His hearts shattered, mind and body exhausted. She hadn’t done it. She hadn’t pushed the trigger. Of course, she hadn’t. He didn’t know why he thought she might, might end his suffering and let him go off into the beyond. He didn’t know if he could stand it from anyone else. He had goaded her and played at her weaknesses, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

The elaborate ploy he had spent planning for what felt like aeons, and perhaps it was that long, didn’t succeed. Maybe deep down that’s what he wanted. Maybe the desperate attempts to end it all were just a ploy – a game he was playing against himself. At every turn something would thwart him, making him continue, making him keep walking this mortal coil. What if that was what he wanted? Something to push him, something to make him feel alive? Was he walking the line between death and life not to bring about the end but create a new beginning? Create a new dynamic with the woman he once called ‘friend’?

He looked at her, slightly surprised at the feelings of disappointment, pride, and anger that made a messy cocktail of emotions in his stomach. He pointed his finger at her, “Everyone in the Universe will suffer for your weakness. I’ll make sure of it.” If he couldn’t go at her hand, joined in death in the way they couldn’t in life, then he might as well have some fun. Something to take his mind off the eternal pain and rage that tore at his hearts. He would help himself, his way. Choosing the creation of something the Doctor could never understand – the birth of chaos. Glorious chaos. With its swirling hues of red and its symphony of screams.

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Ko Sharmus rounded the corner, his eyebrows furrowed, and his old ragged clothes hanging from his tired frame. One last deed to save the Universe. To save humanity.

The Master jumped up the few steps, his thoughts shattered at the sight of the intruder. He lept back onto the platform next to the Doctor, “Excuse me,” he said, “No gate crashers.”

The Doctor spun around to look at the old man, her words firing out of her mouth like bullets, “You can’t still be here, I set the controls.” Had she failed to save her friends? Again? The fear of it tore at her insides.

Ko Sharmus pattered down the steps and stood before the Doctor, “I followed you out,” he explained. “They tried to stop me, but I wanted to be sure that these things are gone.”

The Cybermen had torn his life from his hands, and he was sure as hell not going to let them continue to ravage the Universe. He tried to rip the grenade with the attached death particle from the Doctor’s hand. He grabbed her wrist with one hand and the explosive device with the other. “And now I can be.”

The Doctor tried to keep hold of it. If she was honest this was this her responsibility, but on the other hand, she also felt exhaustion bubbling to the surface. She was torn as to what to do. If Ko Sharmus hadn’t have walked in, maybe she would have pushed the button. She could always surprise herself, right? The thoughts flew thick and fast through her mind, but the tight hold of the man’s hand around her wrist drew her back to reality.

“No,” she was determined to take responsibility for her actions for once.

The human chuckled, “You didn’t start this,” he must have heard more of the Master’s conversation than she thought he did, “I did.”

The Doctor’s eyes grew wide at his admission.

“I was part of a resistance unit that sent the Cyberium back through time and space.” He explained, hoping to convince her to relinquish her hold on what was effectively a time bomb grasped between them. “Though, obviously, we didn’t send it back far enough. So this is my penance.” Clearly, something he said was working. He could feel the Doctor’s grip loosen, and he was able to shift it from her grasp to his.

“Mine to finish.”

The Doctor’s arms hung limp beside her. She didn’t question the Master’s silence nor the words of the man before her. Her eyes cast downwards. Another human was taking her place. Fighting her fight, as they had so often done before. There was no fight left in her to fight back. None to finish what had started long before this warrior, this hero, could even imagine.

He was speaking again, or perhaps he’d never stopped, “My journey ends here.”

The Doctor lifted her eyes back up to his. There was kindness in the sparkle of those orbs and the curve of his mouth.

“But the universe still needs you.”

Understanding flooded her as he spoke those fateful promised words, “So I suggest you run.”

“But…”

He lifted his voice, “Run Doctor!”

She took a final glance at the death particle. Her thoughts fought a war of their own. To stay or run – an age-old question and one she knew so well.

Finally, the Master broke his silence, he could see where this was leading, the scrawny little human was going to break his game. “Don’t you dare,” he growled.

The Doctor gasped, she knew what she had to do, what she always did.

Run.

She leapt from the platform and took off.

Away from the regenerating Cybermen. Away from the Master. Away from the responsibility of yet another death. Though she wouldn’t admit that last one even to herself. Her feet pounded underneath her, and she heard her oldest friend and greatest enemy yell her name.

“Doctor!”

Rage burned bright again in the Master’s chest. She had left him – again. Could he expect any less? The vile little human stood in front of him, taunting him with the explosive in his hand.

“Still feeling confident?” The man asked with a gleeful grin.

The Master stood closer to him, that was his role, his alone to dangle life and death before another and to relish in the fear that shone in his victim’s eyes.

The Doctor ran. She ran faster and with more fear in her hearts than she had felt in a long time. It seemed that at every turn of her life, she had been running from responsibility and from the consequences of her actions. But never had she run from them quite so fast as she was doing now.

Her breaths came out in gasps as she sought out a TARDIS that would take her far far away from the desolate planet that was once her home.

She pulled out her screwdriver and directed the sonic waves towards the first door of the first TARDIS she came across. The doors opened, and she sprinted into the control room. The clock continued to tick as it got closer and closer towards death. That one dish that she offered to so many and yet refused to consume herself. Tearing around the console, she flicked switches and spun dials. Preparing the ship to dematerialise. She could only hope that for once time was on her side.

The Master glared at Ko Sharmus. Without taking his eyes off the man, he called out to the army amassed behind him, “Kill him.”

“I’ll kill you first,” Ko Sharmus said between gritted teeth, his thumb resting against the activation button. Before he could press down on it, shots fired out from the Gallifreyan Cybermen. Each shot met its target, pushing his body side to side with the force of the energy beams. He fell to the floor. Dead. As his hand hit the ground, his thumb pressed on the button.

Dead and unknowing, he failed to hear the Master shout at his soldiers, “All of you, through here, now!” But it was too late.

It was over.

The explosion rocketed the planet. Every bit of organic matter torn from existence. Whatever the Master had not destroyed, be it the flower or Gallifreyan tissue from the bodies of the dead, was gone in an instant.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS, her hearts still beating rapidly in her chest. She had made it. She had survived. But at what cost? Pushing down the thoughts of doubt and uncertainty, she let the wonder of seeing her ‘getaway car’, for lack of a better term, stand tall and firm as it took on the appearance of an aged tree amongst the rocks of the quarry.

Admiring the ‘tree’, she smiled, “Oh, yeah, nice. Good chameleon circuit.” Continuing to talk to the TARDIS, she said, “I’m going to have to leave you there, though.” She started to walk away and up the stone ridden path, her footsteps slow and heavy.

“I can think of worse places to spend eternity,” she mused.

The blue of her beloved box called to her. Exhaustion marked each step up the soft rise of the path as made her way to her home. She placed a soft hand on the side of the box and felt the Old Girl power up. “Hello, mate,” she said tenderly.

Opening the door, she stepped inside. Her heart lifted as the TARDIS made soft beeping noises around her. The yellow lights glowed a path to the console. Her ship was welcoming her home.

A soft smile pulled at the corners of her lips, “Thanks. Home, sweet home.”

The TARDIS made a soft warbling sound, questioning her thief as to where her strays were.

“They got a lift back another way,” The Doctor answered.

The TARDIS let out a long quiet beeping sound.

“Don’t get jealous. I’ll pick them up now.” Even as she said the words, the weight of everything that had happened pulled down on her. Any energy she had left was gone, and the desire to curl up on the TARDIS floor was stronger than ever.

“Maybe just need a moment.” She rested against the console with a tired sigh. She barely had time to just be before the TARDIS alarm filled the air. She just couldn’t get a break. Turning to look at it in confusion, she was shocked by a bright beam behind her. Turning back around, three Judoon officers stood in front of her.

“What?” You’ve got to be kidding!

“Judoon Cold Case Unit.”

The officer closest to her barked, “Fugitive – The Doctor. Sentence – Whole of Life Imprisonment. Maximum Security Facility.”

Before the Doctor could argue, or even say a word, the Judoon officer lifted his gun-like device and pointed it toward her. He pressed the trigger.

The next thing she knew, she was in a cell. Thin windows circled the room above her head, and light streamed in through another small opening nestled in the stone, allowing her to see somewhat through the dark gloom of the cell. The cell was as barren and empty as her tired heart.

“What?”

Regaining her balance, she ran towards the barred window. Her eyebrows lifted in astonishment and her mouth hung open as she took in the deep void of space on the other side of the bars.

She groaned, repeating the only word that found substance in her head, “What?”

Yaz looked around at the other survivors clustered around the controls. They could do nothing but stand there, exhausted. They didn’t know what would be there to greet them what they landed. The wheezing groans of the TARDIS filled the control room alerting them to their rematerialisation.

Ravio was the first to move. She reached out and pulled the door back. The sight of houses and cars untouched by war overwhelmed her, as did the green grass that carpeted the ground. “This is Earth.” She took her first step out of the TARDIS and onto the planet she doubted she’d ever see again.

Close behind her was Yedlarmi and behind him, Ethan. Ravio breathed out in wonder, “We’re on Earth.”

Yaz, Graham, and Ryan had followed their three new friends out of the TARDIS. Yaz looked about her, disbelief swirling in her stomach, “We’re home. She got us home.” She turned to look at Graham, his face sagged in heartbreak and understanding as she tried to keep back her own tears that threatened to spill down her face. Her friend was gone. Dead or alive, she didn’t know. Determined to push away the thoughts of the Doctor dead and alone, she continued, “But what happens to her?”

Ryan took a step closer to Yaz and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Graham lifted his hand to comfort his young friend as well but was interrupted by the sound of a wheezing, groaning TARDIS. Yaz’s eyes lit up, and a smile took over her face. All six humans spun to watch the materializing TARDIS. As it stabilised, however, their hearts shattered. The ship in front of them wasn’t the comforting blue police box they’d all come to know and love but a dark green van that stood parked on the curb.

“Maybe she took another TARDIS?” Yaz hoped.

Her hopes were soon dashed by the sight of a broad-shouldered man exiting the car. He was clothed in long red robes and held a large black gun in his soot-blackened hands. His blue eyes were barely visible through the rage that filled them. His dishevelled black hair was brushed by the soft breeze as he trained the gun on them.

“Where is he? Where’s the Master?” He growled.

Chapter Text

The clustered survivors raised their hands. They thought the war and violence that had plagued them was over, only to have it re-emerge moments later in the shape of a dishevelled man and his gun.

“Where is he?” The man shook his weapon at them.

Yaz tried to take a step forward.

“No!” The desperation was evident on his face, “Not another step. Tell me where he is. Now!”

“He’s not here, son,” Graham said.

The man whipped his head around and glared at the older man. “Don’t lie to me. I tracked this TARDIS leaving Gallifrey. He’s the only one left. No one else could have programmed it.”

Yaz looked at the man, her heart broke for him despite the gun trained at her chest.

“The Doctor-” Ryan began.

“The Master was on Gallifrey when we left. He’s not here,” Graham added softly.

The man looked intently at their faces and took a deep breath through his nose.

“You don’t want to do this,” Yaz encouraged gently. She watched as his body sagged. He dropped the gun, and it clattered at his feet. His eyes closed, and he crumpled to the ground. His fits curled tightly around the dark curls greyed with the ash of his homeworld as he buried his face and let out a guttural scream before breaking into sobs.

The TARDIS team looked at each other. What could they do? Yaz took a hesitant step forward. She crouched down and rested her hand lightly on the grieving man’s back. When he didn’t move, she began to rub large slow circles across his shoulders. His cries pierced the hearts of those around him.

A police officer doing his rounds spotted the ragtag group. He crossed the road and approached them. “Wat’s goin’ on ‘ere, then?” He asked.

Graham stepped aside from the group drawing the man with him, “Our friend, sir, has just lost his home. We’re going to take him inside for some tea. We didn’t mean to bother anyone.”

The uniformed man nodded, he looked over the last survivors of the Cyber-wars. He frowned and decided that they meant no harm. He gave them all another quick nod and continued on his way. He resolved to make another loop seeing that they moved off the street and into one of the houses.

Graham watched the police officer thoughtfully before turning to the broken man. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the concrete and was beginning to attract the attention of passers-by. Looking up at the surrounding houses, Graham also noticed a few people glancing out of their windows at the scene below.

Stepping back towards the fallen man, he gently pushed Yaz aside before tucking a hand under each arm. “Come on, son, let’s get some tea into you. Nothing a good cuppa couldn’t fix.” Pulling up the younger man, Graham helped him into the Tardis they had just exited.

“There must be a kitchen around here somewhere,” he muttered mostly to himself.

His words seemed to awake something inside his companion. Releasing himself from Graham’s gentle grip, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his torn robes and led the group of humans through the corridors of the space and time machine. A few moments later, they walked into a large industrial-sized kitchen.

The man shrugged, “I know this isn’t what humans call a ‘cosy kitchen’ but it’ll have the ingredients you need.”

Graham nodded and set about making the tea. He opened a few cupboards and drawers experimentally until he found what he was looking for. He called his grandson over to help with the tea things. While they were working on the restoratives, the others congregated awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

“The eating room is this way,” the man gestured with a sweep of his arm towards a closed door on the opposite side of the hallway. He drew in a thick heavy breath as if willing himself to hold back the tears. Each word out of his mouth strained and forced.

They followed him silently back out through the doorway and into the room he had pointed at. A large wooden table with ornately carved chairs took up the majority of the eating area. Like the rest of the TARDIS, the walls were a sterile, almost blinding white. Without saying a word, the man left them to choose a seat and made his way back to where Graham and Ryan were making the tea.

Treading lightly, neither Graham nor Ryan heard him re-enter the kitchen. They were whispering quietly to themselves,

“Do you think she made it out ok?” Ryan asked, a small frown creasing his forehead.

His grandfather let out a tired sigh, “I’m not sure. We can always hope. But to be honest, son, I’m not sure my place is on the TARDIS anymore.”

Ryan’s lips pressed together, holding back words he desperately wanted to say, a question he wanted to ask, but unsure of how.

Changing tracks, the teenager queried, “And what about this new guy? First, he’s pointing a gun at us, and now he’s having tea with us.”

The man in question cleared his throat.

Ryan spun around suddenly, spilling tea all over the man and the floor, a guilty look plastered across his face as he took in the shock on his victim’s face.

Graham, having jumped back, just avoided the hot liquid, “Woah there!” He exclaimed.

The man looked down at his stained robes. The tea melded into the ash, soot, and dirt stains that covered them. He held his hands out from his body and gave them three sharp shakes. Tea droplets flew away from him and onto the floor.

“I will get changed. The eating room is across the hall,” he said woodenly before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Ryan apologetically screwed up his face. Running a hand over his short hair, he groaned. Graham patted his shoulder before handing over the paper towel he found in a drawer next to one of the stoves.

Yaz was almost to the dregs of her cup when the mysterious man walked back into the dining room. He had changed from his ruined flowing robes into something similarly out of place for everyday life on earth. However, despite the odd combination of garments, he wore them well. From the pastel green dress pants and matching vest that covered a white collared shirt to the salmon-pink flower on his lapel, he looked more like a groomsman at a spring wedding than the sole survivor of a planet more than a lifetime away.

He apologised for taking his time and theirs as he leaned across the table to pluck the last piece of biscotti from its plate.

“You no doubt desire an explanation,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the lukewarm cup.

“If you’re feeling up to it. We understand that you must be going through a lot right now.” Graham patted the younger-looking man’s arm comfortingly.

“What do we call you?” Yaz asked.

“Of course,” their guest bowed his head in assent, “The Sage. You can call me the Sage.”

Ravio snorted. They all turned to look at her. “Do all Time Lords have such ridiculous names? The Doctor, the Master, and now the Sage.”

The man in question blinked, confusion written across the creases of his forehead, “I’m not sure I understand? Most Time Lords on graduating from the Academy choose a title fitting their role. Is this not how it is on earth? Are not titles used as names for those in positions of power and skill?”

Yaz gave a flicker of a smile, the hints of arrogance reminding her of the Doctor. “Only sometimes,” she explained, “but most of the time, people just give their names.”

“I see. That is not our custom.”

The Sage seemed unaware, or perhaps unperturbed by the awkward silence that fell over the table.

Graham cleared his throat, “Well, Sage, why are you looking for the Master?”

“Other than he’s proper evil.”

“Ryan!” Yaz’s eyes widened as she admonished her friend.

“No. The boy is right. The one who destroys my whole planet and takes my wife and daughter from me can be nothing less.” The Sage’s eyes grew dark with loss and fury. His fingers curled tightly around his mug.

Yaz and Ryan shared a startled look.

“Sage…?”

“Hmmm?” The man looked up at the teenaged girl.

Suddenly shy under his piercing blue eyes, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “How did you escape?” She finally managed.

The Sage’s eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes bore a hole into the table.

“You don’t have to tell us if you’re not ready,” Graham rushed to reassure the man sitting beside him.

“No,” he shook his head, “perhaps it is a story that must be told.”

“I work, worked, with the Matrix. It’s like a supercomputer with the minds of past Time Lords uploaded to its core. It contains the whole of Time Lord knowledge and plays a role in the prediction of future events.” He gave a wry smile, “Perhaps it is nothing like a computer then. At least, not ones that you’ve ever seen.

“I, along with my team, worked to formalise and synthesise the knowledge. But that wasn’t as important as trying to piece together the predictions. They are, were, often fragmented and confusing. More like oracles and prophecies of your ancient past than logical predictions.

“Due to some defect of my creation, the streams of the Matrix do not harm me as they do other Time Lords. I could not only spend much longer within the system, but I can, could, interpret the predictions with more clarity than others. It is not a gift but a curse. The Matrix was not like a mother’s milk as some presumed it to be. Rather, it was an acid that burned but did not kill. The knowledge and secrets that are buried within it will burn behind my eyes forever.” He closed his eyes, briefly rearranging his thoughts before he continued.

“I was in the Matrix when it happened. Scenes of fire and death swirled around me. The voices of the long-dead screaming in my ears. I knew at once that destruction was coming. I fled the Matrix as fast as I could. The other members of my team asked me what was happening. They had never seen disruption in the core in such a magnitude. I didn’t stop to answer them. If I had maybe they would have survived or seen their families one last time. I rushed to where the high council was meeting, but they refused to see me.”

He looked at them with tears brimming in his eyes, “If I’d tried harder to make them listen. If I’d stormed in and demanded they hear me, maybe we could have stopped him. Maybe there’d be someone else alive.” His breaths became ragged.

“You can stop if you want,” Graham said, blinking away his own tears.

“No. It’s ok.” The Sage placed his own hand over Graham’s, taking comfort in the other man’s presence.

“When they refused to let me in, I stormed out. I walked out onto the street and saw that it had already begun. Fire tore through the buildings. People screamed and ran for safety, but nowhere was safe. I only had one thought on my mind – get out. I ran through the streets to a teleport. It had been smashed. I crouched there trying to get the wires back together. I had to get to my family. The house was too far away, that broken teleport was my only hope. The heat of the flames licked at my skin, and the acrid smoke burned my nostrils.”

He took a shuddering breath, trying to slow his wildly beating hearts before resuming his tale, “I knew this city was just the first. They would all burn. At the last moment, I got the teleport working. I went straight home. But I was too late,” he paused again, trying to get his emotions under control, “I ran towards the house, I could see the smoke rising above the hills. It was in flames, just like the city,” he sobbed, “My wife was in there. I ran as close as I could before the flames pushed me back. She had broken a window and saw me through the smoke. She yelled something, but I couldn’t hear her over the roar of the fire. She bundled up our toddler and threw her to me. I don’t know how I caught her.”

Silence descended over the table.

A minute passed before he gasped out, “I watched the roof collapse on her.”

The man buried his head in his hands, taking large gasps of air like a fish out of water. He looked up at them, tears streaking his face, “My wife burned. My daughter died in my arms. I held her to my chest and vowed to get the man who’d caused it. Who’d torn my family away from me. I’d seen his face in the Matrix, time and time again, I didn’t understand at first, but as I rocked my daughter’s body, I understood. I knew who’d done this. I knew what I had to do.

“We had an old TARDIS behind the house, my wife likes, liked, to fix them up. I carried my daughter with me. I watched as the Master burned my planet. I watched every sign of life be extinguished until only his was left. I thought I followed the right TARDIS through the vortex. But I was wrong.” His voice was empty and hollow as he finished.

Slowly, as if every movement pained him, he stood and left the room. Those left looked at each other, tears running down their own cheeks. They had experienced the pain of war, seen it take friends from them, but this was a whole new look at the raw pain that the destruction of another could leave on the life and heart of someone else.

The following days passed in a blur. By day ten, even Yaz was beginning to feel her hope that the Doctor survived and would return for them sink heavy in her heart and fade away. She let out a soft sigh, resting her hand on the door frame, before plastering a fake smile on her face. Entering the library, she saw Ravio and Yedlarmi bent over a map of the UK with Graham pointing out different areas and their positives and negatives. Two days ago, at dinner, they had decided that they couldn’t wait around forever. They had to start making their own way in life – embrace the gift of returning to an Earth filled with humanity and the fresh chance that it offered.

Yaz felt like it was giving up, giving up on the Doctor and giving up on the new life that they had been building together. The others were adamant, however, so she lowered herself silently onto the cushioned chair rather than start another argument. Her eyes glazed over as she watched Ryan and Ethan speed around a track on their video game. Yaz didn’t know the game, and if she was honest, she didn’t care.

The sound of footsteps pricked Yaz’s ears drawing her back into reality. Turning her head toward the doorway, she wasn’t surprised when the Sage appeared at the entrance to the room. Adjusting his charcoal vest, he walked in and posed a question to them all, “You said that it was the Doctor who programmed this TARDIS to come back to Earth?”

“Yes…?” said Ryan wondering what prompted the question and where the Time Lord was going with it.

The Sage crouched down beside the arm of the couch looking intently at the boy, “Was the TARDIS on Gallifrey when you left? How did you get there?”

“We went through a portal. The TARDIS would still be on that other planet, I guess.” Yaz jumped in.

“Yeah, that’s right, we escaped the planet using the Cyber-ship,” Ethan said with a nod.

“The Doc didn’t land too far away from that human settlement. We had to carry a lot of heavy equipment, fat lot of good it did us though,” Graham grumped goodnaturedly.

“So, it should still be there then?”

“I guess,” Ryan nodded.

“Sage, why the questions?” asked Graham.

“I can fly this TARDIS to those space-time coordinates and-” The Sage began before Yaz exclaimed,

“We can find the Doctor! She’s sure to go back to the TARDIS.”

“No, Yaz,” the Sage reached out and placed a hand on Yaz’s forearm stemming her growing excitement, “If she wasn’t back by now, I don’t think she made it. My TARDIS is run down, she only has one flight left in her, and I don’t have the tools to repair her.”

“You’re going to take the TARDIS apart for parts?!” Ryan shouted.

“No. She’s an old model, but she’ll be in a better state than mine. I was going to switch TARDISes. The Doctor won’t need her where she is.”

Yaz brushed the Sage’s hand off, “No. No! You can’t be certain. She’s still alive, I know it!” Yaz stood and glared at the man, “You are going to take us to the TARDIS, and we are going to get the Doctor back.”

The Time Lord gave a heavy sigh before nodding. He looked at the occupants of the room with a soft, sad smile, willing to help them even though he knew it was pointless.

Ravio stood, “We are not going back to that planet or anywhere where we could get blown up by Cybermen. We only just got here. You can be sure as hell that we’re not leaving. Count. Us. Out.” She spun on her foot and left the room. Yedlarmi scrambled to his feet and was quick to follow. Ethan glanced at the others and gave the TARDIS team an apologetic shrug before trotting after the man and woman who’d saved his life on countless occasions.

“Graham? Ryan?” The Sage looked from one to the other.

“It’s worth a shot,” Graham smiled softly at his new friend.

Ryan looked at Graham and Yaz before turning to the only one with a chance of finding the Doctor, “Count me in.”

Without another word, they made their way to the Sage’s TARDIS. She was all polished wood and smooth marble. An ornate armchair with dark red velvet sat to one side accompanied by a small fire and a stack of books. The three humans gasped. The only similarity with the Doctor’s TARDIS was the console that was located on the other side of the room.

A smug smile spread across the Sage’s face at their stunned expressions.

As she climbed the steps of the platform to the console, Yaz commented, “Falling down these are going to hurt.”

The Sage frowned, “Why would you fall?”

“Because the flight through the Vortex is usually pretty rough?”

The man let out a bark of laughter, “My dear,” he said, “this doctor of yours obviously needs a few more lessons in flying.” He turned his attention to the console controls, “Now, what were those coordinates?”

Chapter Text

Yaz, Graham, and Ryan looked at the Time Lord blankly.

“Are you telling me you don’t know the space-time coordinates?” The Sage’s heart sank. He couldn't think of anything worse than being stuck on Earth with no way to repair his TARDIS. He wasn’t sure he could take it.

“Couldn’t understand them,” Graham said with a shrug and a good-natured smile, “They were all gobbledygook to me.”

“We weren’t planning on getting separated,” Yaz frowned, defending herself.

“Hmmm,” the Sage rubbed his chin, his mind trying to grasp onto ideas that were more vapour than substance, “if I track her down using…”

“Yes!” The Time Lord’s sudden shout startled his three passengers. Stepping lightly to the other side of the console, he gripped a small wooden nob at the end of a long smooth metal section. Pulling the nob, he pulled back the metal sheet to reveal a thick pink gloop.

“The TARDIS telepathic circuits. If you three just put your fingers in here,” he pointed at the pink substance. Graham held back a shudder as it moved. “And think really hard about where the TARDIS was last, this TARDIS will be able to take your mental signatures and connect herself to your TARDIS at the right space-time coordinates.” His words ran over themselves as he excitedly explained the telepathic circuits to his sceptical companions. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

The three friends stepped forward and placed their fingers into the gel-like substance. Wet and sticky, they could feel little pinpricks along the lengths of their fingers and at the back of their minds.

“Think carefully, stay focused on the image of the TARDIS where you last saw her,” instructed the Sage as he gripped a marble handled leaver.

“Ready?”

Unsure but hopeful, they nodded.

The Sage pulled the lever, and the time-rotor began to move silently up and down.

A moment later he declared, “We’re here, you can take your fingers out now.”

“What?”

“But how? Where was the noise?”

“What noise?” The Sage asked.

“The,” Ryan breathed harshly in and out trying to make the sound of the TARDIS engines.

The Sage chuckled, “I put her on silent so that we wouldn’t alert any Cybermen that might still be around,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t know the TARDIS could do that,” Ryan exclaimed.

“The Doc never turned the sound off,” Graham added.

“Mmm. Well, some people are particularly fond of the noise,” the Sage mused with a slight smile. “Shall we?” He gestured to the doors with a bow.

Yaz gasped softly when her eyes lit upon the familiar blue box. Emotions swelled and mixed inside of her. She didn’t know if she was happy to see the welcoming blue of the old box or devastated that it was still there. Was the Doctor truly gone? She spun around to demand the Sage tell her how long it had been since they had last seen the TARDIS. Maybe it was only a few hours. Perhaps the Doctor just hadn’t gotten back yet. But when she spotted the Sage, the question died in her mouth.

He was standing in front of the TARDIS with an almost reverent look on his face. He reached out cautiously, almost unsure of what would happen if he touched her blue paintwork. At the last possible moment rather than pulling his hand away, he pressed his palm flat against the wood, rubbing it along the panel in small upward movements. Yaz couldn’t be sure, but it looked like his eyes were brimming with tears, and a melancholy smile was pulling at his lips and cheeks.

Curiosity and suspicion pulled at her thoughts. She realised that they really didn’t know him at all. But then, the same could be said of the Doctor. How much did they know about her when they went on their first adventure? How much did they know about her now? She was loath to admit how little they knew about their friend.

Graham moved forward and patted the ship affectionately, “We don’t have a key. Do you have some fancy Time Lord way of breaking in?” He joked.

His words pulled the Sage out of whatever world he had sunk into. Pulling back from the TARDIS he looked at her inquiringly, “The Doctor, if it is the Doctor I think you’re talking about, and this broken chameleon circuit suggests that it is, is said to keep a spare key…” The Sage reached up to the ‘Police Public Call Box’ sign that shone above his head. Working his fingers along the back of the panel, he grinned in triumph as he pulled a key out from behind it.

Taking the key, he inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open. Letting the three companions enter first, he paused to give the ship an appreciative pat before following them through the doors. His first sight of the inside of the Doctor’s TARDIS caused him to stop in his tracks. He took in the orange crystal columns, the dark lighting, and the elaborate console. He screwed up his face, “I don’t like it.”

“Well, I do,” Yaz said as she came to stand beside him, her arms crossed. She was about to say more when the TARDIS went haywire. Her lights lit up like a Fourth of July celebration, objects on her console moved erratically, and she made more humming, warbling, and beeping noises in a matter of seconds than the TARDIS team had heard in their entire time with the Doctor.

“What’s wrong with her?!” Ryan yelled, his hands firmly planted over his ears.

“I don’t know!” The only Time Lord on board yelled back over the noise as he scrambled towards the console. Running his hands over the controls and talking to her in soft, soothing tones, he managed to get the ancient sentient ship to calm down. The lights dimmed to a manageable level, and the blips and beeps also lowered in volume and frequency. One control on the console, however, continued to spin and flash as if trying to draw attention to itself.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Ryan asked, bending over to get a closer look.

“Don’t touch it!” The Sage exclaimed, reaching for Ryan to stop him. He was too slow, Ryan’s finger pressed down on the button, and instantly they were standing in a 3D hologram representation of the inside of the console room. The holo-edges of the columns and console blurred together with their real counterparts.

Ryan stepped back and spun around, taking in all the details, “Wow,” he breathed.

“Shhh!” Yaz motioned for the others to be quiet, “I think I hear the Doctor!”

She rushed to the door just as its hologram representation swung open and the Doctor, or rather the holo-Doctor, walked in. Yaz’s face fell as she realised that she hadn’t heard her Doctor but a synthetic light-created version of her friend.

They watched the Doctor walk in, the TARDIS light up a pathway to the console, and heard the soft loving beeps that the ship made for her beloved pilot. Tears pricked at their eyes as they listened to the noticeably exhausted Doctor call the ship her home. It was evident that she felt a deep connection with her TARDIS. Wet smiles sprouted on their faces as the Doctor explained that they had caught a different lift home. A few soft chuckles echoed around the room when the Doctor told the ship not to be jealous.

Yaz’s heart swelled when the Doctor mentioned that she would go and pick them up but instantly filled with worry when she saw the lines of exhaustion on the Doctor’s face and the defeated slump of her shoulders.

The TARDIS alarm started to blare. The Sage spun towards the console before realising that the sound was from the hologram projection rather than their version of the TARDIS. “The Judoon!” The exclamation from one of the Doctor’s companions caused him to turn back around. He went slack-jawed as he took in the Judoon goons sentencing the Doctor to life imprisonment in some maximum-security prison.

The Doctor and the ‘space police’ zapped out of view. The lights in the console room faded to black and then lit back up, revealing the shocked faces of his current companions.

Unsurprisingly, Yaz marched up to the Sage. Standing only a foot away, she demanded, “We’ve got to rescue her. We can’t just let the Judoon get away with something like this!”

Sage looked down at the fiery young woman. There was something in her that reminded him of his daughter. Was it the bullheadedness? The passion? The fierce loyalty? He wasn’t sure, but the next words out of his mouth bore a striking similarity to those he often said to his young toddler,

“No.”

Like his daughter, Yaz was not impressed by his answer, “Why not? She’s our friend. She needs our help. She would do the same for us.” A light of inspiration shone in her eyes, “She’d do the same for you!”

“Why would she? She doesn’t know me.”

“Yaz is right, Sage. The Doc would find a way to rescue you.”

“We can’t. Not only does she probably deserve whatever the Judoon are imprisoning her for-” he held up his hand to silence the outraged splutters from the Doctor’s friends, “You’ve travelled with her. Surely, you’ve seen the destruction, if not the death, that follows in her footsteps. But no. Even if I wasn’t convinced that she should serve out the time that justice demands, I have no knowledge, no experience, of breaking into or out of any sort of prison. Especially not a maximum-security one.”

Graham frowned, “See here, the Doc has to make difficult decisions, yes. But how dare you suggest that the woman who has saved countless people, countless planets. The Universe! Should remain imprisoned for multiple lifetimes? There was no trial, no search for the truth, no chance for her to defend herself. And you call this justice?” Graham rounded the console and joined Yaz in front of the Sage, “If anyone deserves justice, deserves to be heard, deserves to be rescued, it is that woman.”

Ryan walked over to his friends, “If you leave her there, then you are no better than the monsters: alien, human, and Time Lord, that she fought to save people from.”

The Sage clenched his jaw, the muscles straining at the force with which he ground his teeth. He was about to refuse again when the TARDIS wheezed and beeped. He tilted his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. Pinching his nose, he let out a frustrated sigh turned groan, “Fine!” He threw his hands in the air, “But I’m letting you all know that if this break out doesn’t succeed, and it won’t, I am not to be held responsible.”

Yaz turned to Ryan and hugged him in excitement. Ryan wrapped his arm around his friend and smiled. They swayed from foot to foot, unable to hide the joy that they felt in knowing that the Doctor was alive and that they were going to do everything that they could to rescue her.

It had been four gruelling hours. The Sage managed to follow the signal the Judoon had left, and locate which prison the Doctor was held in. But other than that, they hadn’t made an inch of progress. Besides Yaz, none of them had any experience in prison layout or security, and her training hadn’t covered prisons in space. The blueprints that the TARDIS was able to supply plus the schematics of the prison’s tech should have provided some help, but they were still dead in the water.

“What if we-” Yaz began.

“No, no, that wouldn’t work,” the Sage hit down ideas as fast as they could think of them, always finding some flaw in their plans that would end up with them either dead or in a cell themselves.

The Sage buried his hands in his thick black hair tugging at the roots in frustration. His hair had long ago become dishevelled, followed by his sleeves being rolled up, his shirt untucked, his shoes tossed to the side of the room, and his vest unbuttoned. With every failed idea, his pristine appearance became more and more derailed giving a glimpse to the overwhelmed, distraught, grieving man that he was underneath.

Two more hours passed. Two more hours lost. Everyone was past discouraged and entering what could only be described as a murderous mood. At the point when all may have been lost, the TARDIS gave two long warbles and a short beeping sound. The Sage looked up at the time rotor in surprise.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. We are not asking her for help. Not now. Not ever. Are you mad?”

“What did the TARDIS say?” Graham asked. They had gotten used to the Doctor talking to the ship as if she was alive, but ever since the Sage had walked in he was constantly in conversation with the TARDIS and she with him. Graham had tried to understand it, but it was starting to give him a headache, so he just accepted it as a quirk of the Time Lords.

“She wants us to call an ‘expert’.” The Sage used his fingers to demonstrate air-quotes as if the disapproval he felt wasn’t already apparent by his tone.

“But that’s a brilliant idea,” Ryan said, moving away from his position over a map of the prison.

“No,” the man shook his head, “She is a known criminal. She also has a lot of history with the Doctor. It will backfire.”

“What’s the harm in asking? Just call her.” At Yaz’s suggestion, the TARDIS made a series of happy beeps.

“What?” The Sage spun his body back toward the console only to groan in dismay as a collection of levers moved of their own accord, “This is not going to end well,” he muttered.

He lifted his head and looked at the other three, “You have to understand,” he began.

The holographic form of an older woman dressed in ethereal white hallowed with golden curls shimmered into view. Her back was towards the TARDIS team, and she was saying something as she appeared, “Cal! Time for din-” She spun around, her eyes scanning the room. Despite the flowing dress, she was soft on her feet, ready to run at any moment. That was until her eyes landed on the Sage.

“Hello Sweetie,” she smiled, and everyone in the room fell into her orbit. She was like a siren of the stars, with just a look she could capture the heart of many, with a smile no one was safe from her pull.

The Sage blinked, realising that she was talking to him. He threw his hands up in surrender, “No. No. No.” He vigorously shook his head, “I’m not who you think I am.”

“You’re not the Doctor?”

“No, sorry.”

“You can’t blame a girl for being mistaken. That gorgeous hair,” she gestured to his head and then to his body, “Those outrageous clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?!”

Ryan interrupted, “He can’t be the Doctor, she’s a woman. And anyway, he’s the Sage.”

The woman’s eyes locked onto Ryan’s, he gulped.

“A woman?”

“Yes,” Ryan squeaked, nodding his head.

“You do know that the Doctor used to be a man?”

“A white-haired Scotsman,” Yaz supplied, “She told us when we first met her.”

The woman hummed deep in her throat, “Oh, the things that man could do with his fingers.” She caught sight of the shock on their faces and smiled, “On the guitar darlings! Really, what must you think of me?”

She began to pace around the console room, the edges of her clothes and hair shimmering with the projected light, “A woman, you say.”

“Yes,” the Sage commented, “I was surprised as well. The stories always made him out to be a man. Of course, with regeneration it was bound to happen, I suppose.”

“Oh, I can’t say I’m complaining,” she hummed, moving closer to the other Time Lord in the room, “I just wish I’d met her.”

“Now’s your chance. We need help breaking her out of a maximum-security prison.”

“And you called me? A woman long dead and forgotten? Why?” She tilted her head, getting a better look at him, “The reward better be great if you’re going to bring me ostensibly back from the grave.”

The Sage ignored the gasps of disbelief from Graham, Ryan, and Yaz. He focused all his attention on the woman now standing in front of him. He was surprised that the words came quickly, he thought if he was ever in the presence of the formidable River Song his words would fail him. Ignoring her talk about rewards, he began, “Forgotten? No, not forgotten. Remembered. The stories of your escapes are legendary. Mythic in fact. They are told the universe over. I don’t think you’ll ever be forgotten.” He dropped his gaze, finishing in a whisper.

River blinked in shock, really taking him in this time, from the top of his wispy dark curls to the blue and black stripes of his socks. She was silent for a moment before coming to a decision. She gave a cat-like grin, “Well, someone knows how to get a girl’s attention,” turning to the others she added, “And I do have a lot of experience with prisons.”

The Sage let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “So you’ll do it? You’ll help us?”

“Why not? What have I got to lose? Indie can find the Holy Grail by himself this time.”

Chapter Text

Graham put his hands up, “Who is this woman? Why is she here?”

The Sage turned to him, confusion writ across his face, “You wanted to ask her for help. Here she is.”

Graham shook his head, “No, sorry. How is she here,” he waved a hand up and down her body, “when we haven’t moved?”

“Is she another hologram?” Yaz asked after inspecting the projection intently.

Resigning himself to having to explain the situation, he said, “Professor Song is a data-ghost projected through the holographic systems of the TARDIS. Yes, she is a hologram, but she is also the consciousness of the late universe renowned archaeologist bound up in code inside the computer core of a planet. She isn’t a recording of a past event like the hologram of the Doctor was. She is interacting with us in real-time.”

“Okay… I’m proper confused.”

“You’re not the only one,” Graham agreed.

“Let’s just say the TARDIS is letting you see a real-live ghost,” River said, the laughter evident in her voice. “Now, do you want to save that wife of mine or don’t you?”

The Sage groaned and buried his face in his hands. She just had to bring that up, and by the looks of shock, betrayal, and disbelief on the various companions' faces, he knew that the Doctor hadn’t told them about this either.

River turned to the Sage with a slight frown, she was unfortunately used to having the Doctor’s companions be unaware of her existence, or rather, past existence. The Sage, on the other hand, looked like this was old news to him. “You already knew? How?”

“The stories!” He threw up his hands, “The stories of you two even made it to Gallifrey.”

“Mmmm, I thought you were a Time Lord. How is Gallifrey these days?”

The Sage’s eyes went dark. “It’s gone – burned.”

River frowned, turning her full attention to him, she asked, “The Time War?”

Mute, the Sage shook his head.

A step away from him now, her eyes blazing with fury she ground out, “How?” The planet may not have welcomed her, but Gallifrey was the Doctor’s home, and for that, she would hunt the galaxies for the one responsible haunting them for eternity.

“The Master.”

River’s eyebrows shot up, she let out an incredulous laugh, “You must be joking.”

Yaz’s face matched the sorrow in her heart that she felt for her friend, “He’s not,” she said, “We saw it. There wasn’t anyone left alive.”

River turned to her, “But how? Why? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Master do that?”

Yaz shrugged, “I don’t know. Because he’s evil?”

River shook her head, her holographic curls leaving streams of sparkling light in their wake, “No. He wouldn’t just do it without reason. He’s not evil for the sake of being evil. People rarely are. There must have been some reason, be that good or bad, for why he chose to burn Gallifrey. Though what, I can hardly imagine.”

The Sage braced himself against the console, pushing back the dual desire to scream at them all and to curl up in a ball and cry a sea of tears. Instead, he took three large deep breaths and grounded himself in reality by mentally listing the purposes of each of the controls visible to him on the console. Feeling his hearts slow and his mind calm, he turned to the four other occupants of the control room. “Perhaps we should come up with some sort of plan for getting the Doctor out of the mess she’s got herself in. Unless you prefer going in guns blazing with no plan and no hope of success?”

The following hours were finally marked by progress. Slowly ideas began to formulate into a workable plan.

“…Yaz, Graham, and Ryan can stay back in the TARDIS and monitor the prison system. You can let the Sage know-” River began.

“What? No!” Yaz exclaimed, “You are not making me stay in the TARDIS like a child.”

Ryan nodded his head in agreement, “The Doctor is our friend. We should be the ones to rescue her.”

River arched an eyebrow, why was she surprised? These were the Doctor’s companions after all.

“I’ll stay,” the Sage volunteered.

“Four people, even if one of them is practically a ghost, is going to raise suspicions. No matter how well we plan,” River said, crossing her arms, daring them to disagree.

“I’ll stay back with Sage. You don’t need an old guy slowing you down,” Graham said with a self-deprecating smile.

River looked at Ryan and Yaz. Neither of them was going to budge. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Fine. But it would be better if only one of you went with me.”

Still, they didn’t back down. A few minutes later, Ryan and Yaz had earpieces to let them communicate with Graham and the Sage back on the TARDIS. Looking them over one last time, River nodded before frowning. “No, something’s not quite right.”

She began to walk purposefully down an adjoining hallway. Just before she disappeared around a corner, she called out, “Sage!” over her shoulder.

Looking at the others, he shrugged and followed the apparition into the darkened corridors.

River refused to answer his questions as to where she was leading them. The minutes passed in silence before she came to a stop outside of a plain wooden door.

The Sage gulped, River was known to be one of the most dangerous beings in the universe, alongside the Doctor. Fear started to bubble underneath his skin. He was a researcher, a good one, but a researcher, nonetheless. He didn’t know how to fight, especially not a highly trained assassin like the Professor, and definitely one who no longer played by the rules of physical reality. What did she want him to do? The stories of other Time Lord’s encounters with her flashed through his mind, adding to the nausea he felt in his stomach.

River gestured to open the door, he obliged her and revealed an empty bedroom. Everything was in its place, from the books sitting on the bedside table, to the clothes hanging up in the wardrobe and trinkets resting on various surfaces. Despite the order to the room, a layer of dust blanketed it all. The photographs hanging on the walls were distorted by dust, their subjects almost unrecognizable.

River turned to look at him with deep concern in her eyes. The Sage tried to swallow past the thick lump in his throat.

Graham fiddled with the edge of one of the controls, while Yaz sat on the steps. She turned the earpiece the Sage gave her over and over in her hands, seemingly studying it intently.

“Do you think we should go look for them?” Ryan asked from his spot against one of the crystal pillars, “It’s almost been an hour.”

“Give it a little bit more time,” Graham tried to soothe the youngsters’ frayed nerves.

“We can’t wait forever. The Doctor needs us!” Yaz snapped, standing up and beginning to pace.

“You don’t need to. We found what we were looking for,” River smiled, arching her head back towards the Sage. In his hands was an old version of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. Yaz could barely make out the resemblance between the blue angular device and her friend’s yellow curved model.

The Sage held out the instrument to her. She took it and looked up at him to express her thanks. The words stuck in her throat, however, when she saw his red-rimmed eyes and pale, drawn face. It was obvious that he’d been crying again. She had seen that look many times on his face over the last week and a half. But there was something else in his eyes this time. It looked like some of the weight had gone from them, releasing him from some of his burden. She nodded stiffly before following River and Ryan out of the TARDIS.

They sneaked around the first corner, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of movement.

Ryan leaned towards her, whispering, “Do you think she’s really the Doctor’s wife?”

“What?” Yaz forgot to whisper. River looked over her shoulder and hushed her.

“Do you? Think they were actually married, that is.”

“Ryan! She’s the Doctor’s wife. You heard her.” Yaz hissed back.

“Yeah, but she’s dead, isn’t she? The Doctor’s never mentioned her. Why should we trust her?”

Yaz rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore Ryan’s doubts for now. They didn’t have a choice. Maybe she didn’t marry the Doctor, but that didn’t matter. As long as she helped them rescue her, she didn’t care. Yaz quickened her pace to catch up to River who’d moved away from them during their whispered conversation.

River glanced sideways at Yaz, “Check with the boys that the area is clear. We need enough time to get her out.”

Yaz nodded. Lifting her hand up to the side of her head, she gently pressed the button on the earpiece, “Graham? Sage? Do we have the all-clear to start working on the cell door?”

From their positions within the console room, Graham and Sage broke off their friendly chat. Looking closely at the monitor, they confirmed, “You’re all good to go. There are no guards between you and the Doc’s cell.”

“Thanks.” Yaz looked at River and nodded.

Creeping around the corner, River raised her hand, stopping Yaz and Ryan outside of the Doctor’s cell. “Give me a minute, would you?” She asked softly.

The two teenagers looked at each other with matching frowns.

Taking a quick breath to steady herself, River walked through the wall of the cell and disappeared into the other room, not seeing the looks of disbelief and surprise on her two young companions’ faces.

The Doctor was sitting on her coat, curled up in the corner of the cell. Her sonic screwdriver lay broken next to one of the walls where she obviously threw it in a moment of frustration. River took in the stark surroundings. The stone wall and dim lighting, reminding her of the many years that she too spent imprisoned. As she looked closer, flashes from further back than Stormcage invaded her mind, replaying her childhood memories of which small cramped rooms and the walls dripping with moisture that acted as backdrops. She shuddered and turned her attention once again to her misery stricken spouse.

River crouched in front of the Doctor’s small form. She reached out to touch her before remembering that she was just an echo, a memory existing in ones and zeros. She pulled back her hand and spoke softly, “Sweetie? Look at me, my love.”

The Doctor made a soft, sad whining sound that shattered River’s hearts. Rather than looking up at River, she curled tighter into herself and clamped her hands tightly over her ears. Moving her head side to side almost imperceptibly, she moaned, “No. No. No. No. No. Don’t do this to me. Not now.”

In all her time connected to the computer’s hard drive, River had never so desperately wanted to be able to be alive as she did at that moment. In the core, if Cal was upset, she could scoop the child up into her arms and rock her. Whisper sweet nothings to the girl as she brushed the hair off her face. Faced with the painful situation in front of her, not be able to cradle the one whom she loved in her arms. Unable to show the same love, care, and comfort to her wife was enough to stop her hearts. Not that it would make much of a difference – she was already dead.

River tried again, “Doctor, please. Your friends are waiting for you. They’re worried about you.”

Not believing that River was in the cell with her, but unable to help herself, the Doctor slowly began to lift her head. She angled it ever so slightly, barely able to see above her scuffed knees. She was ready to duck her head back down when she saw nothing, as she knew she would. But when the Time Lord peeked out into the gloom of the prison cell, her stomach leapt to her throat. For a moment, her brain stopped processing.

River was crouching in front of her. A small encouraging smile pulled at the corner of her lips. The Doctor gasped, remembering to breathe. Before she had time to listen to her mind telling her that she was hallucinating from exhaustion, pain, and hunger, she threw herself into River’s embrace. The strong arms of her wife circled around her. The other woman let out a huff, almost a laugh, of disbelief.

“How? I’m- Oh, never mind,” River muttered burying her head in the crook of the Doctor’s neck.

Tears ran down the Doctor’s face as she muttered against River’s skin.

“I’m sorry, my love. I can’t make out a word you’re saying,” River said, lifting her head to look at the Doctor.

The Doctor shifted slightly, “I said that they’re all gone. All the Time Lords. All of Gallifrey.”

“Oh, Sweetie. I know, I’m so sorry.”

“They stole me, and I forgot. I don’t know who I am. They’re all gone. How am I going to find out who I really am?” She sobbed burying her face back against River.

“Look at me. Doctor,” River pulled away to look at her wife in the eye, “No matter who we are or where we are from, we are all trying to find out who we are.

“Listen to me,” she gently held the Doctor’s face in her hands, “You are the Doctor. You get to decide who that is, what that means. By the choices you make. By the friends you have. Every little thing you do says who you are. Did you eat biscuits for breakfast? Smile at a baby? A puppy? Were you kind? Did you run or did you stay? Doctor, who you choose to be right now, that’s who you are.”

Tears pricked at River’s eyes, “There’s something I learned long ago, you can’t control what other people do, no matter how hard you try. You can’t change the past, and sometimes you can’t change the future. But you can decide who you are. It’s not the big things that define you, but the little things. They build up and up and up like little sparks of colour and light that create a picture of who you are. You are the Doctor, but you get to decide what that picture of the Doctor looks like. What colours will go where? Where does the light shine brightest?”

The Doctor looked into River’s eyes and blinked the tears from her own eyes. There was so much she didn’t know, so much of her history that was a mystery to her. Despite the uncertainty that was behind her and that lay in front of her, there was one thing that she was sure of. That Doctor River Song was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. That she sparkled and glowed, bringing light to every room she was in. And that she was her wife.

River chuckled, “I’m a hologram, love. I don’t usually sparkle.”

The Doctor blushed not realizing that she had said that out loud.

“Would you do me the honour of kissing your wife?” River asked.

The Doctor didn’t hesitate, she surged forward, placing her mouth over River’s.

Ryan looked down at his watch. He looked up at Yaz, his expression mirroring her own worried one, “It’s been ten minutes. What do we do?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know.” Fear burned in her eyes. Each second that ticked by was another second closer to being spotted, to being found.

Ryan lifted his hand and started talking to the two men on the TARDIS, “Are we still safe?”

“Not for long,” the Sage’s voice crackled in his ear, “there are three guards that look like they’ll be heading your way soon. Have you got her out? Is the Doctor with you?”

“No. The Professor walked through the wall ten minutes ago. We don’t know what’s happening.”

“What? You haven’t been working on the door?”

“No,” Ryan winced at the shout of frustration that came through his earpiece.

“You don’t have much time. Get their attention. Quietly!”

“But how?”

“Now!” The Sage demanded, concern lacing the word.

Ryan looked at Yaz again, worry chipping away at his focus, blurring his perception. They stepped out of the shadows and toward the sealed door. Yaz handed him the screwdriver before lifting her fist and rapping it on the door. She winced at the noise, the three sharp taps rang out, echoing down the corridor.

“Doctor? Professor? There’s no time left. We have to go.” She pressed her face close to the seal of the door, hoping that the sound would carry through to the occupants.

“Yaz…” Ryan backed into her, his voice wavering as he watched a guard step out into the harsh light.

Graham and the Sage’s voice rang through their ears, “Get out! They’re there! Run!”

Yaz pounded heavily on the door, yelling, “Doctor! Please!”

River passed through the door, took one look at the panicking teenagers and the approaching guards and swore, “Damn!” She turned to Ryan, spotting the screwdriver in his hands, “Setting forty-four,” she instructed.

“Hundred and thirteen yellow,” came the muffled voice of the Doctor.

“Different screwdriver, love!” River’s voice was strained as she watched Ryan fumble with the settings, “Forty-four,” she maintained.

Ryan nodded, sweat beading on his forehead as he raced through the settings. Finding the right one, he pointed it at the door.

“Follow the seal,” River commanded.

Ryan changed his aim, pointing the sonic at the bottom of the door frame and following it up and around, maintaining equal pressure on the device.

“Come on. Come on,” Yaz whispered to herself. Unable to contain the nervous energy, she shuffled from foot to foot.

“Yes!” Ryan cried in victory as the door ‘shwooked’ open. Seeing the advancing guards break into a run he turned and pushed the now hugging Doctor and Yaz forward.

“Stop! Halt!” One guard yelled as they pursued them. He pushed a button on a device hanging from his belt. Sirens started to blare, and lights flashed, calling other guards to his position.

The Sage watched as the Doctor, River, Ryan, and Yaz ran towards the TARDIS. He saw guards triangulating on their position from every direction. He looked up at Graham, unsure of what to do. One thing was evident, they weren’t going to make it.

“Do something!” Graham cried, fear for his grandson written on every line of his face.

The Sage nodded, calculations spinning through his mind. Deftly he moved around the console and started flicking switches and pressing buttons.

“What are you doing?” Graham yelled.

“Something!”

Grabbing the lever, the Sage yanked it down dematerializing the TARDIS. Hearts beating fast in his chest he prayed that he had gotten the calculations right as the ship materialized around the Doctor, Yaz, Ryan, and River.

Inside the console room, the Doctor threw herself at the controls, and together with her younger Time Lord counterpart, they sent the TARDIS spinning into space. They wasted no time flying the ship a safe distance away, not needing to see the looks of shock and horror on the encircled guards as they disappeared.

Huge smiles lit up everyone’s faces as they realized that they had done it. Not only had they broken the Doctor out of prison, but no one had been shot or captured. Never had a win felt so exhilarating. Yaz threw her arms around the Doctor again and was shortly joined by Ryan and Graham. River stood beside the Sage, matching smiles lighting up their faces. The Doctor raised her head. Spotting River, she gave the woman a worn happy smile, tears pricking at her eyes.

Chapter Text

River felt the connection between the Library and the TARDIS begin to splinter. She turned to the Sage, “You do have a sense of adventure after all.”

He frowned.

“I hope I’ll get to see you again one day,” she gave him a soft, sad smile.

The Time Lord’s eyes widened, realizing what was happening.

From the other side of the room, the Doctor also noticed how River had begun to fade, looking less defined against the backdrop of the console. She was now able to see the controls through River where seconds before she hadn’t. Pulling herself away from her friends, she cried, “No! River. Please!”

River turned sadly towards her wife, “It was good to see you, Sweetie. Goodbye.” Her voice echoed through the room, even as her body vanished from the physical realm.

“River!” The Doctor threw herself at the disappearing form. Tumbling through the air where her wife had just been, she slammed into the TARDIS controls, hitting buttons and flicking switches as her hands scrambled for purpose. The TARDIS wheezed and groaned as she passed through the Vortex and materialized on a distant planet. No one moved for a moment, watching the Doctor closely as she bent over the controls, gripping the edge of the console tightly with head bowed.

The Sage glanced at the Doctor’s hunched form. His eyes darted away from her quickly, looking anywhere but at the other Time Lord. Her pain cracked his already broken hearts.

Yaz took a tentative step forward, her hand outstretched. She placed a comforting hand on the Doctor and was cut when the older woman flinched at the contact.

“Doctor?” Yaz spoke hesitantly.

The Doctor pulled away from her, her head still bowed and shoulders hunched. Her voice came out haggard and broken, “Give me a minute.”

Yaz pulled back her hand, her face falling.

The Doctor did not have the privilege of a minute’s respite, however. As soon as Yaz stepped back, giving the Doctor room, the sounds of screams and laser fire echoed through the TARDIS. Cries of horror, fear, and pain penetrated the walls of the time ship and rang in her occupants’ ears.

The Doctor lifted her head and stood straight. Turning on her foot, she spun and walked towards the door.

“Doc, wait,” Graham said, afraid of what she might do.

Unheeding, the Doctor continued her walk forward, pulling the door open. Ryan and Yaz were close behind her, stepping out of the TARDIS only to be confronted by fires burning through the roofs of buildings, people running, and lasers shooting through the air.

Graham stepped out of the machine as a woman ran up to them, asking, “Are you the rescue team?” She took in the group. Behind them, the Sage bounced from foot to foot in the doorway of the TARDIS, trying to pull on his shoes.

“Rescue team?” The Doctor echoed.

“To help us fight off the Daleks?” She frowned, “You’re not, are you? You don’t look much like soldiers.”

At the mention of Daleks, the Doctor’s face hardened, “How many?”

“What?”

“How many Daleks?”

“Three. There were four, but we killed one. We might be a farming colony, but that doesn’t mean we’re useless.”

“What’s your name?” The Doctor asked, the question coming out like an order.

“Liz. My name is Liz.”

“Excellent name. I had a friend once with the same name. Good woman. Smart scientist. Now, Liz, I need you to round up everyone you can and get them somewhere safe. Can you do that for me?”

“We have the children in a root cellar on the far edge of the village.”

“Good. Get everyone there.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked the Doctor.

“See that mountain?” Liz nodded. “We are going to draw the Daleks up there and away from the village.”

“And then what? Jump off the cliff and hope they follow?” The Sage remarked derisively.

“I’ll think of something. I’m good at plans, me.”

Liz looked from one Time Lord to the next, “Should I go?”

The Doctor turned back to her, having forgotten she was still there, “Yes. Yes. Good luck!”

Liz nodded and ran back towards the smoke and screams.

“Doctor, we can’t fight the Daleks without a plan.”

“I have a plan.”

“One that doesn’t include getting killed?!”

“I have half a plan,” the Doctor amended.

The Sage groaned and spun on the spot. An idea came to him, “What if we build a Dalekanium Negation Emitter?”

The Doctor looked up, confusion and scepticism were written across her face, “How do you know about that?”

“He’s a Time Lord like you, Doctor,” Yaz supplied.

The Doctor looked at her young friend, “What?”

“He escaped from Gallifrey,” Graham added.

“You weren’t in the Time War, were you?” The Doctor looked again at the Sage.

The man shook his head, “No. But I know how to build one. I saw the specs while my team and I were filing the Matrix’s data on weapons.”

The TARDIS team could see the gears spinning rapidly in the Doctor’s mind. Slowly she nodded, “Ok. Ok, we’ll use the D.N.E.” Disappearing inside the TARDIS for a moment, she came back holding three weapons.

“I thought you didn’t like guns,” Ryan asked as she handed him one.

“They’re not guns. Well, not regular guns,” she smiled holding one up to her shoulder and firing. A yellow splatter appeared where the paint pellet hit the side of a barn wall, “They’re paintball guns! I was going to take you all paintballing on Pascharkiun – they have the best courses this side of the Galaxy.”

Graham nodded with a smile, glad to see some of the old Doctor poking through. He reached out and took the other gun from her hands.

“You need to draw them out. Be careful. Don’t let them see you. Get them away from the village and up the mountain. Curls and I,” she pointed at the Sage, “will put the D.N.E. together and meet you there.”

“The Sage. I’m the Sage,” the man stated, unhappy with the moniker the Doctor had given him.

She spun her head, her face draining of colour, sure she’d heard that name somewhere before, “What?”

“I’m the Sage,” he repeated.

Giving her head a little shake as if to clear it, the Doctor turned to her friends, “Stay safe, fam.”

Graham lifted the weapon in his hand and gave her a little nod. She smiled and followed the Sage back into the TARDIS.

“Oi! Dustbins over here!” Ryan yelled at one of the Daleks, shooting a splatter of paint at its casing. The paint splattered to the right of where the eyestalk met the top of its covering. He dove behind a bush as the armour-plated war beast turned around, its eyestalk swaying side to side trying to see who hit it.

“Show Yourself! You Will Be Exterminated! Exterminated! All Humans Will Be Exterminated!” It shouted, moving towards Ryan’s hiding spot. Just as he was sure he was a goner, a clatter of stones sounded to the Dalek’s left. It swivelled, distracted by the noise.

An older man with grey hair and ripped slacks ran out from behind one of the silos, grabbed Ryan by the arm, and pulled him along. They stayed close to the ground, running hunched over, trying to stay as small as possible. Ryan and the man dove behind a wooden outbuilding, narrowly missing the Dalek’s fire as it spun back towards them.

The man turned to Ryan and held out his hand, Ryan took it in his own, and they shook. “Name’s George,” the man said.

“Ryan,” the teenager replied.

“Well, Ryan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Too bad about the circumstances, but that can’t be helped.”

George swung his old rifle onto his back and motioned for Ryan to follow. They snuck around the far end of the outbuilding before sprinting towards a large cowshed. Glancing behind them to make sure they weren’t spotted they ducked inside. Ryan’s face lit up in a smile when he saw Graham and Yaz. With them was another man who ran a hand over his dishevelled beard, smoothing out the white whiskers with his fingers.

“George!” He cried, standing up to give Ryan’s rescuer a hug and a pat on the back.

George turned to Ryan, “Ryan, meet my husband, Ralf.”

Ryan gave a little wave.

“Our daughter, Liz,” Ralf explained, “told us that you kids were going to distract the Daleks. We couldn’t just leave you out here alone. Not when we could do something to help.”

“What’s the plan?” George asked.

Yaz explained that they were to draw the Daleks out from the village and up towards the mountain. She gestured with her hands as she told of how two more of their friends were building a device that should help with their fight against the aliens. They just had to get them away from the village and buy them some time.

George nodded thoughtfully as he listened. He turned to Ralf, “This is Marigold’s barn, ain’t it?”

Ralf nodded, his frown slowly smoothing out as he caught onto his husband’s meaning.

“Does she still keep those bikes out the back?”

“That she does,” he smiled.

George was about to speak again when the side door to the milking shed blew in with explosive force. Waving at them to follow, he hastily rounded the milk tanks. Making a beeline to a crooked wooden door that hung on one hinge, he grabbed Ryan’s shoulder and pulled the boy along with him.

Shoving the door out of the way, the group entered a concrete shed with flaking powder-blue paint on its walls. The lean-to was pressed up against the back of the milk shed, allowing them to sneak in without alerting any Daleks outside. The one rolling in their direction, however, was another matter altogether.

Inside the concrete room were two covered four-wheel-drive buggies made for the rugged terrain surrounding the farming colony. Leaning against one of them was an old rusted motorbike that had seen better days.

George pointed at the first buggy, “Ryan, Ralf, you take this one. You other two, take that one. I’ll grab the bike; she’s a temperamental old thing. You’ve got to have the magic touch.” He wiggled his fingers with a grin. “We’ll round up these beasties like they’re stroppy old heifers. Give those friends of yours time to finish that machine of theirs.”

Ryan jumped into the passenger seat of the buggy; it smelled like musty hay with a sweet molasses tang to it. Ralf rolled his shoulders and rubbed his hands with glee. Ryan glanced over at Graham and Yaz. They were having a quiet conversation about who would be driving. He smirked when Yaz got behind the wheel. Graham didn’t stand a chance.

Graham and Yaz gave the others a thumbs up in response to George’s gesture. Revving their engines, George was the first to pull out of the small shed. Ryan and Ralf were close behind. Both motorbike and buggy veered to the left, leaving Graham and Yaz to go right.

Ryan held on to the dash of the buggy as they turned violently. The older man yelled over the sound of the engine, “Hold on, kid! It’s going to get bumpy!” Sure enough, he was right. They hit a section of gravel road that was lined with potholes. They bounced along behind George. Once they were far enough outside of the village, they slowed down enough for George to wave directions at them. He continued further along the path while Ralf and Ryan headed back towards town.

It wasn’t long before they spotted their target. The Dalek was firing at an old farmhouse with a wraparound veranda. Slowing to a halt to grab its attention, Ryan heard the screams of a child from inside the house. He swallowed hard. Ralf leaned out the side of the buggy and waved his arm about trying to lure the Dalek away from the building. It spun slowly and trained its eye on them.

“Go! Go!” Ryan yelled, hitting the dashboard.

Revving the buggy, Ralf skidded the machine as he turned it sharply. Speeding off in the other direction, Ryan turned his head and saw the Dalek approaching. “It’s following us!” He yelled.

“Good!” Ralf grinned back.

Hurtling through the quiet streets of the village with the Dalek close on their tail, they burst out from the other side of the houses. Ryan looked to one side and saw Yaz and Graham careening out from another street with a Dalek close behind. He then looked to the other side and saw George on the rickety old motorbike fly towards them as the Dalek that had followed them into the barn let off a slew of shots. George swerved side to side, trying to keep from being hit.

Picking up speed the three vehicles pulled away from the old farmhouses and barns. The Daleks took the bait and followed them through the fields and around the scattering cows. They were at the base of the cliff when it happened. One of the Dalek’s laser shots hit a rocky outcrop higher up on the mountain. A boulder was knocked loose and came careening down the slope. At the very last second, George looked over at Ralf and smiled. Aiming his bike at the oncoming rock, he led the Dalek into its path. The boulder didn’t slow down as it crushed both George and the Dalek beneath it.

The only sound that could be heard over the whine of the engines as they struggled up the rocky ground was the guttural scream that tore through Ralf’s throat.

The Sage looked at the wide handlebars of the motorbike that the Doctor just walked out of the TARDIS, “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said, “If we go out there on that thing we will die.”

The Doctor looked at him. Her eyes were hard. They had said very little while they were building the D.N.E., but there was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. If she thought about it, she might have put it down to not knowing her place among other Time Lords anymore. If someone else told her that, she would have scoffed saying that she never knew her place. Either way, the Sage reminded her that the planet that she thought was home was gone and all the people with it. With no hope of knowing what really happened.

“This is the fastest way to catch them. Unless you want to abandon everyone,” she snarled.

The Sage ground his teeth. He’d heard the legends of the Doctor. He’d experienced some of them himself by way of the Matrix. But never had he thought he’d be on the wrong end of her glare, and certainly not for something that he hadn’t done and wouldn’t think of doing.

“I would not abandon them, Doctor.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she slung her leg over the side of the bike and pulled a helmet over her head. Reaching for the other one, she tore it off the handlebar and tossed it at her countryman.

Yanking it on his head, he demanded, “If we get out of this alive, Doctor, you have to tell me where the Master is. I know the stories. I know you’d do anything for him, but you can’t protect him forever. You will tell me where he is.”

The Doctor faced him, “Is that a threat?”

“If it was, did it work?”

The Doctor looked down at her hands where they clenched and unclenched the handles of the bike. She looked up again and watched the Sage strap the D.N.E. to his leg. She felt all the fight go out of her. He was the only one left, and she was taking it out on him. It wasn’t his fault that he survived when others didn’t. How he did, she would have to find out later. Until then, she had her fam to save.

He was about to climb onto the bike behind her when she held up her hand and climbed off. Standing in front of him, she looked at him properly for the first time. She took in the dark circles under his eyes, the tense lines around his mouth, and the pained slope of his shoulders. “He’s dead,” she said softly.

Shock flooded the man’s eyes, “What?”

“The death-particle. It was used on Gallifrey. Not even the Master could have escaped that.”

“But. My home.” The heartbreak in his voice was palpable.

The Doctor almost took the D.N.E. from him to do the job herself, but she needed his help, and she needed him to focus. Getting back on the bike, she demanded that he climb on as well.

He looked at her blankly.

The Doctor’s face softened. She patted the seat of the bike behind her, “We’ve got a job to do. We can mourn later. Until then, we’ve got some Daleks to blow up.”

Numbly the Sage tightened the strap of his helmet. Swinging his leg over the side of the bike, he wrapped his arms around the Doctor’s waist and clung on tight. Wasting no time, she revved the engine and speed through the still smoking buildings. Shooting between the buildings, the Doctor and the Sage raced at full speed towards the mountain and its rugged cliffs. Swerving around a large boulder, they edged closer and closer to the base of the mountain. In no time at all, they began their upward ascent following freshly made tire tracks. Moments later they spotted two Daleks advancing on a pair of manned buggies.

Edging around the Daleks and towards their friends, the two Time Lords left a trail of dust flying out behind them. Closing in on the edge of a grassy verge of the cliff, the Doctor skidded to a stop in a controlled arch. Yaz and the driver of the other buggy stopped their vehicles. The Sage noticed warps and burn marks in the metal where the Dalek’s energy beams had hit them.

The Sage stood to one side next to the motorbike. Yaz, Ryan, Graham, and Ralf stood clustered around their buggies on the other side. The Doctor stood between them, a grassy space on either side of her. The Daleks slowed their advance yet continued to edge closer and closer. The Sage slowly lowered his hand to the weapon strapped to his thigh.

The Doctor held her hands out, signalling to the oncoming killing machines that they should stop. Almost to her surprise, they did. She smiled triumphantly. Before she could question them as to their reasons for attacking a defenceless farming village, one of the Daleks fired at her. The beam scorched the air beside her face causing her to take a step back. She lost her footing and tumbled over the edge of the cliff.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Yaz screamed, doubling over. Graham held her arms, holding her upright.

The Sage turned, fire burning in his eyes. Without wasting a second, he pulled out the D.N.E. and pointed it at the Daleks. Pushing the button, he watched with grim satisfaction as their eye stalks jerked erratically. Sparks flew out from between the seams of their casings. Smoke rose from their vents. Their eyestalks dropped suddenly, and they were still.

He turned to the others, “Take the bikes!”

Graham helped Yaz into one of the buggies and climbed in after her. Ryan jumped into the other beside Ralf. Together they started to make the descent down the side of the mountain that they had just climbed. They were intent on circling the base of the cliff. Maybe the Doctor would be ok. Graham feared the worst, however.

The Sage approached the motionless Daleks. Carefully lifting the lid-like head, he saw that the forced disconnection between the mutated creature and its militarized casing had been too much. They lay dead, twitching in their own mucus. He cringed. It wasn’t a pretty sight, no matter how evil they were.

Turning back around, he edged toward the lip of the cliff and looked over it. The Doctor lay at the bottom, her limbs splayed, and her head twisted at an uncomfortable angle. The Time Lord lowered himself to the ground and began a slow descent, moving from toe hold to toe hold. His mind repeating the mantra, “Be ok. Be ok,” over and over again.

The Doctor’s arms flailed as she fell, the sound of Yaz’s screams echoing in her ears. She was going to miss that girl. She was going to miss them all. Every time she faced death, regeneration or no, she knew it would all end. She would change. Everything would change. Yes, she was still the same person, but she was also a different person. Those first few seconds as she fell, stirred her imagination. It surprised her how much finding out she had a whole hidden past was like regeneration. They were her, and yet, not her. She was connected to her past and yet had new tastes and choices with each new body. Each new self was a beginning but not an end.

Flashes of that first fall she had as a child appeared before her eyes. It was funny, she mused, how one’s life can end much in the same way that it began. That fall she had as a little girl was the beginning of a whole new era of her life and started not only the destruction of her relationship with her mother but also the beginning of an entirely new race – the Time Lords.

After the images of that fateful fall faded away, another flashed into her mind, the fall that began her time in her current body. Only this time, she didn’t have the energy of regeneration streaming through her, healing her at the very moment of impact. She wondered if she would regenerate again when she finally hit the hard rocky ground. Who knew how many regenerations she had left. There were the ones she never knew of, the ones she did and used all up, and the new cycle that Gallifrey gave her. But did they? Was that another lie?

Her mind caught onto this new thought as the ground grew ever closer. She remembered feeling the power and energy enter into her body at Trenzalore. She remembered feeling a distinct lack of regeneration energy before they poured it through the crack, but was that just what they wanted her to think? Her mind was muddled, and before she could follow this new line of reasoning, she slammed hard into the ground. All thoughts were dashed from her mind. Everything faded to black…

Chapter Text

The Sage jumped the last few meters. His feet failed to grip the stony soil as he landed. He skidded, falling to his hands and knees. He could feel the stone digging into the palms of his hands. The dust got caught in his nostrils, causing him to sneeze. Blood pounded in his ears. The only thing he was aware of, however, was the too still body of the Doctor lying a few feet away.

Scrambling to his feet, he approached her slowly. Lowering himself somewhat painfully to his knees beside her, he took in the deep cut across her forehead still oozing blood. The sound of oncoming vehicles made him look up. Graham, Ryan, Yaz, and the other man were approaching in buggies. They slowed to a stop. Yaz was the first to throw herself out of the vehicle and sprint to meet him. She fell to the Doctor’s side.

The Sage could feel Graham’s hand come to rest on his shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze. Yaz looked at them, “Is she ok? The Doctor, is she alive?”

The Time Lord looked down at the Doctor’s small still body and moved his hand to her neck. Bringing his fingers into place at the base of her jaw, he felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Not even the faint electric buzz of regeneration energy beginning to surge through her cells.

“No. I’m sorry.” The feeling of being alone, of being the last Time Lord rose bile into his throat.

Yaz began to sob. She fell across her friend’s chest, begging her to come back.

The Sage started to remove his fingers, when, “Wait.”

Yaz looked up, tears streaking her cheeks.

Graham crouched down, getting closer to the Doctor. His hand still held onto the Sage’s shoulder, his arm now fully pressed against the other man’s back.

The Sage turned his head to look at him, “There’s a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

Rushing to stand up, he turned to the only man he didn’t know, “You there, we need to get her back to the TARDIS. Can you help us?”

The other man nodded.

Graham had the Doctor by her feet while the Sage grasped her under her arms. Walking backwards, he entered the TARDIS through the door that Yaz held open for them.

Ralf turned to Ryan, who was standing next to him beside the buggy watching the proceedings. “She’ll be alright, will she?” He asked. “It was a long fall, that.”

Ryan turned to him, “I hope so. She fell through the roof of a train carriage once so she should be ok. I think.” He added softly, almost afraid of what it would mean if she wasn’t ok.

Graham popped his head out and called to Ryan, “Come on, son. We’ve got her settled.”

Ryan nodded and turned back towards Ralf, “Thank you for your help.”

Ralf grabbed the boy’s hand and shook it vigorously, “No. Thank you. Look after your friend now, ya’ hear.”

Ryan gave him a half-smile and a small wave as he entered the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him. He was surprised to see that the Doctor was lying on the floor of the console room, “Uhh, shouldn’t she be in the med-bay. Or something?”

Yaz looked up from her spot next to the Doctor, “The Sage said something about using the artron energy from the TARDIS to kick-start her regeneration?”

Graham hummed in agreement, “He said that this would be the best place to do it unless we wanted to carry her deep into the TARDIS. We agreed it would be best to do it here.”

“What’s this artron energy then?” Ryan asked.

“Never mind that,” the Sage said as he rounded the console, “You have to get out of the way.” He moved closer to them, pulling them back away from where the Doctor’s body lay.

“I’m not sure why it hasn’t already begun. She’s been through a lot of bodies so it might be it be that it just needs a little nudge or,” he looked slowly at them, unblinking, a deep sadness lying behind his eyes.

“Or what?” Yaz was almost afraid to ask.

“Or this might be it. Time Lord bodies have a hard time dying, but they have to do it eventually.”

Yaz shook her head, trying to keep the tears from pooling over.

“She’ll be alright,” Graham said with a confidence that none of them felt.

The Sage pursed his lips and gave a little nod, “Alright. Ok,” he clapped his hands together, “It’s up to you now, Old Girl.”

The TARDIS made a series of beeping and warbling noises.

A swirling yellow cloud of light slowly rose up from underneath the Doctor. It surrounded her, rendering her unseen to the anxious companions that stood near the doors. After a moment, the yellow cloud dissipated revealing the still motionless body of their friend.

“Come on. Come on,” the Sage whispered under his breath, “please work.” Despite his pleas, the Doctor’s body remained unchanged and unmoving.

A few moments more.

Nothing.

Yaz covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing back a sob.

The Sage ran a hand through his hair. He took a wavering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he muttered to the three humans who were clinging to each other.

The Sage began to move forward, unsure of what he was going to do. Before he reached the Doctor’s body, however, she gasped. The movement of taking that breath rose her upper body from its place on the floor.

Behind him, Graham’s knees gave out, Yaz and Ryan were the only things keeping him from crashing to the floor.

The Doctor sat bolt upright. She turned to where they were standing, “Artron energy?” She said, “A bit primitive.”

The Sage replied, “I’m a historian, not a scientist!” But before he could finish, she collapsed once again.

“Doctor!” Yaz scrambled forward, quickly followed by Ryan. The two teenagers lent over the Doctor’s body while Graham stood next to the Sage, grasping his arm for support. He couldn’t take much more of this.

Yaz looked up, tears shone in her eyes, this time they were tears of joy, “She’s breathing.”

Graham looked at the Sage, “We can’t just leave her here,” he said.

The Sage nodded, “Pick her up and follow me.”

Yaz took the Doctor’s shoulders, and the boys had her feet. They waddled after the Sage through the dimly lit corridors. Ryan fumbled a few times, but they managed to keep the Doctor from being dragged along the floor before they came to a plain wooden door.

“What’s this place, then?” Graham asked.

“Her bedroom,” the other man replied.

“I didn’t realize she even had a bedroom,” one of the companions said. But the Sage wasn’t paying attention to their quips about how she never seemed to sleep except for that time on Grace’s couch, and the time they found her snoozing against the console with her goggles on. And that time they woke her up in the aviary. Or when she’d nap in the library, or the pool, and on and on it went. The Sage just rolled his eyes with a small smile as he pushed the door open.

“No wonder she’s always taking kips all over the ship,” Graham said as he took in the dust-covered room, “it looks like she never uses this place.”

Carefully they deposited the Doctor onto the bed. Yaz removed her shoes while Ryan and the Sage worked at getting her out of her coat. Plumping up the pillows, they gently lowered her head and pulled the blankets over her. Yaz put the Doctor’s boots at the foot of the bed and draped the coat over a nearby chair. She looked up at the men in the room, they were clustered together, looking at something that Graham had in his hands.

While the others helped the Doctor into bed, Graham wandered about the room. Sitting on a dresser was a dust-covered photo frame. An old spider web clung to the side. Funny, Graham thought, I didn’t realise the TARDIS had spiders. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket over the palm of his hand and wiped the dust away. It wasn’t perfect, but he could make out the figures in the photograph. One of them was the Professor. Despite the smudged glass, he could easily recognize the mass of curls. Her eyes were lit up with laughter, and a smile pulled across her face as a tall, angular man with a shock of unruly silver hair kissed her cheek in front of two towering stone monoliths. In her arms was a floppy-eared puppy whose tongue hung to the side of its wide smiling mouth.

Graham noticed some writing in black pen in the corner. He rubbed at the glass, trying to make the words out. In a scrawling hand, it said, Happy Anniversary. Graham smiled.

“That’s the Professor,” Ryan pointed out coming to stand next to him.

The Sage stood to Graham’s other side, he pointed at the grey-haired man, “And that’s the Lord President.”

Graham and Ryan looked at him, “Who?”

The Sage chuckled, turning toward the door, “The Doctor.”

Graham put the picture back down and followed the others out, closing the door behind him, “What?” he repeated.

“You’ll have to ask her yourselves,” the Sage said as he disappeared around a corner leaving the Doctor’s companions to make their own way back.

A few hours had passed. Five hours, 34 minutes, and 16 seconds actually, but who’s counting? Yaz sighed as she rested the side of her face in her hand and moved the counter on the monopoly board. Since they had put the Doctor to bed, they had had three cups of tea, two bags of chips, ice cream, hot chicken sandwiches, and were on their third game of monopoly. Truth be told – she was board and just the slightest bit worried. The Sage hadn’t shown himself since they went separate ways in the corridor so she couldn’t even ask him how long it would be before they saw the Doctor again. She just had to go on waiting.

The Doctor’s head pounded a sharp rhythm against the inside of her skull. Eyes still squeezed tightly shut she moved her hand towards her head. Before she could get there, however, she froze. She shifted slightly and froze again. She reached out an arm and felt beside herself. Yes. She was definitely in bed. But whose?

She felt around again. It felt like her old bed. The one Eyebrows used to use, the sheets were Egyptian cotton, and the duvet was plump, definitely feather. She prodded at the pillow that her head lay on, a soft smell of lavender spread out from it. No doubt about it. This was Eyebrows bed, made especially how River liked it. The thought of her wife sent a pang through her hearts. She must have been extremely tired or very drunk to have slipped back into this bed. She had purposely been avoiding this room for a very long time.

Carefully she sat up, the blankets pooled around her waist. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her eyes. Blessedly, the room was dark. Her eyes quickly became accustomed to the gloom, if she had any doubt as to where she was before, the familiar outlines of furniture and trinkets put a stop to that. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but the days and weeks beforehand still weighed heavily on her.

The Doctor sat there in the room full of memories from a past life and just let herself be. It wasn’t often that she slowed down long enough to allow her thoughts and feelings to settle in and around her. They hurt, yes, but in a way, it was good to just exist in that time and space. No one to rescue, no planets to save, no corrupt leaders to over-throw. In the dark and in the silence, she could be herself. A woman unsure of her past and uncertain about her future, but here, just here, in the now. She drew her knees up towards herself and nuzzled her head into the pillow and breathed.

The Sage walked down the corridor to where he could hear Yaz, Ryan, and Graham chatting about something or other. He’d spent the last few hours just wandering the ship. The vast halls and eclectic rooms provided the best places to think. To mull over everything that had happened since he got that warning in the Matrix. His life looked so different in such a short span of time. He’d lost so much, but he’d gained some things as well. Never in a hundred years would he have thought he would come to think of humans as being his friends. He was glad they had been so kind and open towards him. Of course, there were hiccups, but they were good people. He could see why the Doctor liked Earth so much and had a special place in her hearts for humans. A soft, small, sad smile pulled at his lips.

Now the Doctor was back though, would they still want him? Need him? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about a lot of things at the moment if he was honest. Only time would tell, he mused before turning into the room to be with the others as they waited.

He’d only been in there for a few minutes when they heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. By the time the Doctor walked through the doorway, they were all staring at her. At seeing the Doctor alive and well, the others rushed to her side. The Sage, meanwhile, stood in shock. He was sure that the next time they saw her, she would have a new body, but she was the same as ever. From the roots of her hair to the bottom of her sturdy boots, nothing had changed. The only difference was that the cut across her head was gone and the Sage couldn’t see any bruises from her fall.

“How?” He mouthed to himself.

The Doctor laughed at something one of her companions said, “I just needed a bit of sleep, that’s all.” She looked at them all, “Where to fam?”

“Actually,” Ryan spoke softly, it was so uncharacteristic that the others instantly turned to him. He cleared his throat, “I’d like to go back to Earth. Back to my time, I mean.”

The Doctor looked at him, emotions flickered across her face, surprise, pain, anger, disappointment, and finally resignation. She nodded slowly.

Ryan began to babble, “It’s just, I’ve got friends who need me, you know? I mean, you are my friends but my mates, they need me more right now.” He took a steadying breath, “And Doctor, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. What with that Orphan planet and everything. You said that the future can be changed. That Earth doesn’t have to end up like that. I can’t run away from that responsibility. Not when there might be something that I can do about it.”

Graham looked at his grandson with pride. He loved the boy more than he could describe but watching him make the tough decision to stand up and do what he believed was right, swelled the love, care, and pride he had for Ryan to a whole new level. “Ryan’s right, Doc. Some things’ve got to be done. Ravio and the boys need help settling in. I think I’d be good at that. And Ryan. I wouldn’t miss watching him grow up right for the world. Sorry, Doc.”

The Doctor gave him a sad understanding smile. She turned to Yaz, “What about you, Yasmin Khan? What are you going to do?”

Yaz’s confliction was evident on her face. It was quiet for a moment before she spoke, she looked at the floor as she said, “If there’s still a place for me on the TARDIS, I’d like to stay.”

The ancient Time Lord placed a hand on Yaz’s shoulder, causing the girl to look up, “There’s always a place for you on the TARDIS.” She looked at the others, “All of you. You are always welcome. You’re my fam.”

They smiled at her and watched as she clapped her hands abruptly as if to dispel the emotions that were running high through all of them. “Alright. Earth. Let’s take you home.”

For once there were no detours, no aliens to fight, no civilizations to rescue, just a smooth flight through the vortex. Ryan turned to leave once they had landed but halted when he felt a hand on his arm. It was the Doctor. She spun him around and pulled him in for a hug. Holding him tight, she whispered in his ear, “You are going to be fantastic, Ryan Sinclair. The world is lucky to have you.” Pulling away from each other, they had matching smiles, and tears pricked at the corners of their eyes.

Graham shook hands with the Doctor and then turned to do the same to the Sage. The other man held on tight before moving his hands up to Graham’s shoulders. “Thank you, my friend,” he spoke softly, resting one of his hands on Graham’s face, “for everything.”

Graham swallowed heavily and nodded. The losses that they had both endured had bound them together. Never had Graham thought that the man who’d come at them with a gun would be one whom he would think of as a dear friend.

They pulled apart, and Graham stood beside Ryan. The TARDIS doors opened, and they left the ship that had welcomed them as friends and embraced them as family. As they started to walk away, Graham turned and looked over his shoulder, he called out, “Don’t be strangers. There’ll always a cup of tea waiting for you.”

The Doctor waved and turned back towards the box. The doors closed and the TARDIS wheezed and groaned, fading away, leaving behind a few leaves swirling in the soft breeze.

Graham and Ryan walked away, the older man wrapped his arm around the younger, “Come on, son,” he said, “let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

The TARDIS floated in space, neither here, nor there. The Doctor hadn’t uttered a word since they had said goodbye to Graham and Ryan. Yaz and the Sage shared a worried look. The Doctor glanced up from where she was fiddling with the controls, “And you?” She asked, looking straight at the Sage. “What do you want?”

The Sage cleared his throat, “I think I’d like to stay here, for a while,” he looked at the Doctor and then at Yaz, “If you’ll have me. My people are gone. My planet’s gone. I want to know if there’s anything out there for me.”

The Doctor’s jaw clenched at the mention of Gallifrey’s destruction. She gave a curt nod before turning back to the console.

The Sage let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding. He stepped closer to her, “But Doctor, there’s one thing that I need to do first.” His hands hovered over the controls, “If you’ll allow me.” She stood back and raised her hands, letting him have control of the TARDIS. He entered the coordinates quickly without a word and pulled down on the leaver. He turned and made his way towards the doors.

The Doctor eyed the coordinates with a frown, “Here?” She muttered, “Why here?”

It was only a matter of moments before he returned, carrying a small bundle. It brought with it the acrid smell of smoke and a hint of burnt flesh. Yaz gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in an attempt to hold back the bile rising in her throat when she realised what it was that he held in his arms.

The Doctor leaned towards her companion, “What is it?” She whispered.

Yaz turned to her with tears pooling in her eyes, “His daughter,” she choked.

“Oh.”

They watched him reverently put his burden on the steps. Part of the blanket fell away, revealing dark strands of hair and a small hand, half curled into a fist. The Doctor froze, her face resembling marble, as she pushed every thought and emotion far from her mind. Beside her, Yaz let out a little cry and curled into the Doctor’s side. Absently the older woman slung her arm around the teenager, holding her close.

The Sage stared at the controls, unmoving, unsure of where to go. He was going to do the final rites in the meadows behind his house where his daughter loved to play but if the Doctor was right, if the death particle was used, then there would be nothing. No grass, no flowers, no life. It wouldn’t be right; it wouldn’t be what his little girl would have wanted. He didn’t know what to do. He turned to the Doctor, unsure. She was motionless, still staring at the small body that lay lifeless on the floor of her ship.

They stood like that for a while, how long, they didn’t know. It felt as if time had stopped moving, giving them the gift of stillness, a time to mourn. The child represented more than herself, in her was the whole of their race, gone. All potential and hope snuffed out like the life of the small girl, herself. Moments passed, frozen, before the TARDIS let out a soft, sad warbling beep. The time rotor moved up and down, drawing the occupants of the room back to life. All except one. The ship landed, almost hesitantly as if unsure of what her pilots would think, her doors slowly opened.

The Sage turned and walked towards the doors, beyond them lay green fields curving and sweeping up and down in soft waves as far as the eye could see. Peppered throughout the rich grass were wildflowers of a hundred varieties. At the bottom of one of the gentle hills stood a tall grand old willow tree whose branches reached down into the lazy brook that ran alongside it. Its waters were crystal clear. Between its smooth stones that lay along the bottom, little fish flitted to and fro.

“It’s perfect,” the Sage whispered. He moved back towards the console and gave it a grateful pat. She hummed in response. He picked up the child and carried her outside. He laid her at the base of the tree, facing out toward the moving water and rolling fields. When he re-entered the TARDIS, the Doctor was shaken from her stupor and moved to help him. Together they carried out wood and built a pyre. Interwoven amidst the wood and alongside the child were ceremonial fragrance boxes and sticks. Finally, the grieving father rested some of the brightly coloured wildflowers across the child’s chest and placed some in her cold grasp.

Standing back, the Doctor and Yaz let the Sage say the sacred words over her body and light the pyre. For the first time since they arrived, Yaz spoke. She turned to the Doctor, “You would think that with the Master burning everything, he would have chosen a different way to say goodbye,” she commented, out of earshot of the Sage who was watching the flames leap up and crackle.

The Doctor turned to her young friend, “We burn our dead, Yaz. Tradition states that the energy, light, and fragrant smoke of the fire releases the spirit of the one who died and allows them to join with the creation. By following the tradition of our ancestors, he is letting her run and play among the flowers forever.”

Yaz gave the Doctor a watery smile, “That’s beautiful.”

The other woman sighed, “It’s just another way the Master desecrated our home. He burned the planet but with none of the ceremonial practices for the dead. He made a mockery of our traditions and stole them from us.”

Yaz reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s hand, she gave it a comforting squeeze.

The Doctor looked at her, she gave a slight shake of her head before continuing, “Of course, the more probable reason we started burning our dead was to keep them from the rest of the universe. Even one cell of a Time Lord’s body could change the future of a thousand worlds. It was believed that the bodies must be kept from those who’d wish to do us harm.”

Yaz understood that the Doctor was trying to change the course of the conversation, so she turned her gaze back toward the Sage as he watched the fire burn. She then glanced around at the land that surrounded them, “I think she’ll like it here. It’s really lovely.”

Later that evening, when the fire had burnt out, and only ash and charcoal remained the Sage returned to the TARDIS. His cheeks were ashen, and his eyes were rimmed with red. The Doctor reached out and held onto his arm gently, pulling him closer to herself. “Put your hand here,” she said softly, gesturing to an empty panel.

Confused, he complied and placed his palm against the cool metal surface.

“Think about them.”

“What?” He turned to her, pulling his hand away.

The Doctor reached out and pushed his hand back down, “Think about them. A favourite memory, a time when you were all together. Close your eyes and remember.”

He frowned but too exhausted to argue, he did as she asked. He pressed his hand down and thought of their smiles and laughter. He pictured his little girl in the arms of her mother, their smiles brightening up the world around them. As he brought their love and laughter to life within his mind, he could feel the panel heating up underneath his hand. A beeping sound pulled him back into reality. He snatched his hand away before the heated metal could burn him. Clutching it to his chest, he turned questioningly towards the Doctor. In her hand was a picture of his wife smiling with their daughter in her arms.

The Doctor looked at the picture, a slight frown creased her forehead. There was something about the woman that she recognised. She wasn’t sure if it was the curve of her nose, the dimples in her cheeks, or the sparkle in her eyes. The longer she looked, the more the Doctor was certain that she knew the woman, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

The Sage cleared his throat. Startled, the Doctor turned toward him, a soft smile on her lips. Wordlessly she handed the photograph to him.

He looked down at it, “Does it help?” He asked, “The picture, does it help?”

The Doctor tucked her hand into her pocket and felt the worn edges of a small photograph beneath her fingers. She looked up at him, “Yes,” she smiled, “It does.”