Chapter Text
Graham found her at dusk. Sat at the top of a hill on a small outcrop of rocks; legs crossed, elbows on knees, thumbs tucked under her chin. She was looking, not at the dusty wilderness that stretched out for mile after mile in front of them, but down at an unremarkable patch of sun-baked soil directly in front of her.
It had taken him the best part of an hour to find her and the last climb up the steep slope of the hill had taken it out of him. He placed his hands on his hips and drew in deep lungfuls of air, noticing for the first time that the baking still heat of the day was now dropping away; the temperature starting to change rapidly as the planet’s twin suns began sinking below the horizon. He shivered as he glanced down at her. She seemed both unaware of the sudden change in temperature, and of his presence at her side.
She was, hands down, no questions asked, the smartest person he’d ever met. There was more going on inside that brain of hers than he could ever hope to understand, and whilst she presented a happy-go-lucky exterior to those around her, there were brief moments, times like this, where it was possible to see past that and down to something more brooding, more serious.
He’d only glimpsed it a few times and this was the first where, upon discovery, she’d not immediately thrown up some facade; painted on a smile for the world to see and pretended that everything was fine. It was, to be perfectly honest, more than a little unsettling.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the dusty soil beneath his feet shifting with him. She looked as though she didn’t want to be disturbed but he’d stood there too long to just walk away without saying anything.
“It’s beautiful,” he told her softly as he looked out at the unfolding expanse.
She didn’t respond, didn’t indicate that she’d heard him and so he stayed where he was, standing awkwardly to one side. Her face was in profile, the last vestiges of daylight letting him see her downcast eyes and pensive expression. In the weeks since the encounter with The Master and Barton she had been what he could only describe as out of sorts. He didn’t want to say anything to the others for fear of it getting back to her somehow, but he was worried about her. There had been something decidedly off about her behaviour. She papered over the cracks with bursts of feigned enthusiasm but, no matter how much effort she put into it, she was a world away from the fizzing ball of creative energy they had come to know.
“You want to come back? Ryan’s been cooking.” That was stretching the truth a little but he wasn’t sure what else to say.
There was no reaction. He glanced back the way he’d come, still just about able to make out the outline of the TARDIS in the distance. As if sensing his presence, the lamp on the police box’s roof lit up, casting a warm orange glow over the immediate area. He frowned as he acknowledged the unusual colour.
“I think she wants you to come back.”
There was the merest shrug of the shoulders but he decided to take it as an invitation to join her. The rock was wide enough to allow him to take a seat and to swing his legs over the edge. Folding himself into a cross-legged position wasn’t something he thought his body would welcome. He huffed a little as he manoeuvred himself down onto the rock, the small rucksack on his back cushioning him from some of the sharper surrounding stones.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments.
“You coming back to the TARDIS, or you planning on spending the whole night up here?”
There was the slight shrug of the shoulders again.
“Oi, come on, that’s not an answer.” He nudged her gently with his shoulder. “I’m sure the two of you will patch it up.”
It had taken him a while to get used to the idea that the TARDIS was sentient; that it had a very definite connection to its pilot. What he’d not really considered before today was the fact that the two of them could fall out.
He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure what it was he’d walked in on earlier, but it had looked very much like a spat between them. The Doc had been standing, hands on hips, glaring at the console and demanding that the doors be opened. The ship, it appeared, wasn’t having any of it. Simmering rage didn’t sit well with the Doc but she had sworn at the ship, thumped it, and then resorted to forcibly rewiring things in order to get her own way. The ship had retaliated, leaving cables live as she attempted to re-route power, and sparks literally flew across the room as the two of them went head to head.
After several minutes of grumbling and tinkering there had been a huge shower of sparks and all power to the console seemed to dim. The Doctor took the opportunity offered and stomped across the room, pulling on the doors and heading out into the unknown. No words had been spoken but Graham knew better than to try and follow someone in that sort of a mood. He left what he thought was a sensible amount of time and then, when she still hadn’t shown any signs of returning, set off after her; following her scuffed footprints across the dusty surface.
“You coming back then?” He gestured in the direction of the TARDIS. “It’s gonna get baltic up here.”
“Need some time to think.”
“And you can’t do that thinking in the TARDIS?”
“Too much noise. Too many distractions.”
He chewed his lip; aware that he could now probably class himself as a distraction. There was, however, one thing he wanted to make sure of. “You and the TARDIS…”
“We’ll be fine. She doesn’t like it when I shut her out. Throws a strop. Causes a scene.”
“Right… and that’s what all that was, was it?” He wasn’t sure he really understood the explanation.
“There are times I want my thoughts to be just that. Mine. She takes it all far too personally. Classic separation anxiety behaviour on her part. We’ll…” She broke off, one hand reaching for her temple.
“What is it?”
She shook her head slightly, wincing as she did so. “Something in the air perhaps. Not too sure.”
He waited to see if she’d be okay, and after a few moments, her hand dropped back onto her knee, the pain in her head appearing to pass.
“You okay?”
“Slight twinge. Gone now. Thinking head back on.”
“Right.” He gaze turned back in the direction of the TARDIS.
“Maybe she was trying to warn you about what was out here.”
She shrugged at that and he let it slide. Silence fell between them again.
It was broken only a few seconds later by an audible gasp, and he glanced over in time to see her squeeze her eyes tight shut, thumbs massaging her temples.
“This been happening for long?”
She didn’t answer that one and, for reasons he couldn’t explain, he wasn’t happy to let things slide.
“Out with it. That been bothering you since we landed?”
There was a mumbled response that he took for a yes.
“Why didn’t you say something? Probably got some Aspirin here somewhere.” He swung the small backpack he’d been carrying off his back and unzipped the front pocket.
“I’m fine.”
“That might have sounded better if you weren’t hissing it through gritted teeth,” he told her honestly as he rummaged through the small stack of various packets until he found the one he was looking for. He held it out for her to take. “I’ve water here as well if you need.”
“I’m fine.”
“Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t look it.”
“It’ll pass.”
He kept his hand out; offering the blister pack of tablets.
“You look as though you need something.”
“Aspirin and me don’t mix. I’ll get something later.”
“You just saying that or…”
“Those little things. Pretty much Time Lord Kryptonite.”
He looked down at the small pack of tablets and then back at the Doctor.
“These little things?”
“Those little things.”
He found himself turning the tablets over in his hand, unwelcome thoughts forming in his mind. If only he’d had that knowledge a few weeks earlier.
“You couldn’t. It’s just not who you are.” Her words broke the silence and it took him a few moments to realise that she’d guessed what he was thinking. He hastily stuffed the tablets back into the front pocket of the bag wondering just how obvious he was to read. Seeing as she’d effectively brought the subject up, he asked the question that had been nagging away at the back of his mind for the past few weeks.
“He’s still out there somewhere, isn’t he, the Master?”
She didn’t answer straight away; her gaze returning out to the ever-darkening sky.
“He’ll turn up… eventually. It’s what he does.”
He shook his head at her seeming complacency. “And you just accept that?”
“What do you want me to do about it?” She turned to face him. The question asked so matter-of-factly. He struggled to find an answer. “You think I should get in first, is that it? Play him at his own game?”
“No.” There was more anger in his voice than he intended and he immediately followed it up. “But to know he’s out there…” he looked around and tried to put his thoughts into words. “How do you cope with that? Knowing that. Knowing that he’ll be out there somewhere… doing what he does.”
“There are always people like him out there. What he does doesn’t make him special. Doesn’t even make him vaguely unique.”
“He tried to kill you. And me and Yaz and Ryan if we’re going to be honest about it…”
“But he didn’t succeed.”
“And that’s enough for you? To stay one step ahead of him each time. What happens that one time you don’t?” He wanted to take the words back the moment he’d given them voice but he couldn’t. They hung uncomfortably in the air between them. He glanced at the Doctor; waiting to see if there’d be any sort of reaction. She stayed where she was; legs crossed, looking out at the darkness. It was impossible to get a read on how she was feeling.
“Sorry.” He searched around for an explanation. “I don’t know how you can do it, that’s all. What he does… the lives he…”
“You think I don’t feel the guilt?” She cut across him. Her voice betraying little emotion. “You want to know what it’s like knowing what he’s done; what he’s capable of? You think you want to know what that’s like, carrying that around? Because trust me, you don’t. His life. Mine. Linked. Things happen because of him, because of what he’s done. To change it, any of it? You think I wouldn’t if I could?”
Silence fell between them again. Graham kept his gaze focused on the horizon; watching as the second of the planet’s twin suns finally disappeared from view. There was so much in her relationship with The Master that he couldn’t claim to understand. He wondered briefly if all her people were like him and that she was the exception; the break from the norm. For someone who appeared on the surface to be so open, there was so much they didn’t know. He couldn’t in all honesty sit there and tell her he understood. Now, however, now was not the time to go into that.
He heard the crunch of gravel as she shifted slightly; her boots dislodging a small collection of pebbles as she raised her knees; hands clasping the side of her head.
“We should get you back to the TARDIS.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she immediately angled away from him. She was a hard person to help when she didn’t want it. “Come on, you can’t sit there and tell me that nothing’s wrong.”
“It’ll pass.” He heard her fight to settle her breathing and then her hands dropped back down onto her knees. “See. Gone already.”
He didn’t want to call her out on what was an obvious lie.
Movement on the periphery of his vision caught his attention. The light on the top of the TARDIS was now flashing slowly on and off. He spotted Yaz in the circle of light that was formed; hands cupped around her mouth, obviously calling out, trying to find him.
“We should be getting back, there are people who worry.”
There was no response. She seemed determined to stay where she was and so he settled for shuffling backwards and climbing, somewhat ungainly, to his feet. He gestured back over his shoulder.
“You coming?”
He saw the shake of her head.
“Got some thinking to do. It’s a good thinking spot this.” She tapped her fingers down on the rock beneath her. “They’re harder to find than you might think.”
“You sure?”
“Sure. Just need to clear my head. Shake this …whatever it is… get the old mojo back.”
“And you’ll be okay?” He wanted reassurance that she wasn’t keeping something from him, whilst at the same time knowing that that was exactly what she was doing.
“Sorting a few things out. Reordering the old brain. Opening a few boxes of memories I shut the lid on a long time ago. That sort of thinking always comes with a cost.”
He didn’t know whether he believed her or not but, short of physically moving her from her perch on the rocks, there wasn’t much he could do if she was determined to stay put.
“I didn’t mean what I said... About the Master.”
“Yes you did.”
“I shouldn’t have asked…”
“It’s fine. A curious mind is a good thing.”
She was shutting down everything he tried to say; making it clear that she didn’t want to carry on the conversation. The colour on the TARDIS lamp changed hue, turning a deeper orange. He was caught between staying with someone who didn’t want his presence and heading back to those who were concerned about his absence.
He turned away, more than a little reluctantly. It didn’t feel right leaving her where she was. It felt… well…alien to see her like this.
“Don’t be staying up here all night.” He left her with those words, the realisation dawning as he made his way down the hill that that was precisely what she was likely to do.