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The Doctor is dying.
Yaz knows it. Everyone else aboard the TARDIS knows it. None of them are talking about it.
In fact, no one has spoken in ages and it’s only adding to the stress and frustration that Yaz is dealing with currently. She’s not sure she wants any of them to talk, really. The Doctor is dying and there’s nothing anyone can say to make that stop happening. Anything they might want to say to comfort her or calm her down would have the opposite effect. It’s a miracle she’s keeping her calm at all right now, which she totally is.
Or at least, she’s trying to. She’s getting tired of everyone’s eyes on her, studying her to figure out if they should say something or offer to help.
With so many other people on board, Yaz feels more alone than she ever has. Ace, Tegan, Graham, and Kate all stand opposite to her at the console, their gazes boring into her as she fiddles with the controls. She keeps messing up, pressing wrong buttons and flipping the wrong levers, and she hates it. It’s also annoying the way she can see them all in her periphery, glancing between each other and muttering under their breaths as they hold on to the console.
She promised to take them all home, and she’s not sure she can do it. If it weren’t for the obvious thing distracting her, she might, but she can’t help but divert her focus every so often to the Doctor who lay so still on the floor.
Silently, she begs the TARDIS to offer her assistance. She knows her human brain can’t handle the same level of telepathic bond as the Doctor can, but the situation is so dire, the ship might just have to listen to her for once. Maybe if the Doctor were awake, this wouldn’t be so difficult.
In the end, the turbulence subsides, and she hears the reassuring groan of the materialisation circuit and then the thud of a proper landing. Yaz closes her eyes and sighs in relief at the success.
Everyone looks around, surprised.
“Did you do it?” Graham is the first one to pipe up.
“I think so, yeah,” Yaz replies, her voice hoarse.
She looks down at the projected interlocking circles that appear in front of her, indicating their time and location. She recognizes the familiar symbol for Earth. The Doctor made sure she knew that one; at least she got them to the right planet, thank goodness. Gallifreyan numbers are much easier to follow than the letters, and she sees something that ends in a twenty-two.
“Earth, 2022,” Yaz announces to everyone, with a hint of pride at her achievement. It’s hard to hide the smile that finds its way to her lips despite everything.
“Okay, so you got us to Earth,” Tegan shouts, unimpressed. “But where? Are we even close to home?”
“Now, Tegan, ‘home’ means different things to all of us,” Kate interjects, holding up a dismissive hand. “Some of us are going to have to travel, anyway. Let’s just be grateful that Yaz managed to do this at all.”
Yaz shoots Kate an appreciative look for keeping her calm, commanding demeanour, which she returns with a nod. This was certainly an accomplishment and Yaz is glad to have someone defending her, even if she may have landed them far from where it is most convenient for them all to get back home. She looks over the projection again, vaguely registering another set of symbols that the Doctor drilled into her head.
“England definitely, but other than that, I’m not sure, sorry,” she says sheepishly.
“Hey, at least you got that right,” Ace says with a smile. She walks over and puts an arm around Yaz’s shoulders as she stands from where she hunched over the controls. “Good job.”
Another proud grin spreads across Yaz’s lips, but it disappears when Ace surprises her by pulling her into a hug. At first, it takes a second to realise what’s happening, but she melts into the warm embrace, letting some of the tension leave her body. Maybe she did need comforting words to help her feel better. The hug was just an added bonus, despite hardly knowing the woman who offered it.
Yaz finds herself not wanting to let go as the emotions she had bottled up threaten to show themselves at the contact. Ace pulls away, but keeps her hands steady on Yaz’s shoulders.
“I can see why she picked you,” Ace whispers. “You’re brilliant, you are.”
Heat spreads across Yaz’s cheeks at the compliment, and she glances at everyone else standing around the console. She doesn’t think they heard, but she feels shy all the same. The brief mention of the Doctor makes the joy short-lived, however. Yaz peeks over Ace’s shoulder at her figure on the floor. Ace turns to follow her gaze, coming back to offer her a concerned look.
Yaz hopes she can’t see the tears that well up in her eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t want any of us to stay? Are you going to be alright?”
“I’ll be okay,” Yaz insists, but she’s not sure she’s even convinced herself. “You lot go home. I just need to keep an eye on her.”
Ace regards her a moment longer before nodding with a sad smile. She turns to address everyone else on board.
“Right then, fam,” Ace adds the last word with a flourish of her hand, echoing what the Doctor had called them all earlier. “Let’s see whereabouts we’ve ended up.”
Yaz watches Ace bend down to grab her backpack as she heads towards the doors, the rest of the group in tow. Each of them shuffle through the door, turning to give Yaz looks of sympathy before they step outside – even Tegan, who Yaz thought would never give her a second glance if her life depended on it.
But she hears an indignant shout from Tegan as the doors shut. Apparently they’ve ended up in Croydon. Yaz laughs to herself, pulling the lever for takeoff before anyone can come back inside demanding to be dropped off elsewhere.
As the dematerialisation groans around her, she leans back against the console with a sigh, letting her gaze drop to the floor. Now she really is alone.
The TARDIS has never been this quiet. Even when the Doctor went deep in focus and refused to speak, Yaz could still hear the hum of the engines and the chirps of the console, but those noises don’t fill the silence like they usually do. All she can hear is the sound of her own breathing and her heart beating, a painful reminder of how very alive she is right now. The TARDIS must be mourning too.
She swallows the lump that was sitting in her throat ever since Ace hugged her, but it still lingers. She didn’t want to cry in front of everyone else. She wanted to be brave and save the day without them worrying about her. But she could see the worry in their faces every time they looked at her.
Everyone is gone now, though. There’s no reason for her to hold it in any longer. She chokes out a sob, rustling the stillness that surrounds her.
It’s cathartic to just let everything out that she’d been collecting over the day, so she lets herself cry. She avoids looking over at the Doctor even once. She can’t bear it.
When she comes back to her senses, she doesn’t remember moving to sit on the floor, or curling up her knees to her chest, but at some point she did. She wipes tears from her cheeks and stands at the console again. The Doctor is still dying; the TARDIS is still silent, nothing has changed.
Yaz dares to look at her now. The Doctor is just as they left her before. Cautiously, Yaz steps towards her, worried she might interrupt the process or make it happen sooner than she wants it to, assuming that’s what’s happening. She doesn’t really know that much about regeneration, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.
She crouches down next to her, sniffling the last of her tears away. They had set her down so haphazardly and she looks so dishevelled, Yaz wants to do her the dignity of making her comfortable, if she can. She doesn’t know how long she’s going to be like this.
Half of her wants to pick her up again and carry her somewhere deeper in the TARDIS – somewhere safer – but the other half of her knows she wouldn’t be able to lift her again. On any given day, she might be able to do it without the adrenaline she had earlier, but she’s so worn out from the day's events that it would be a disaster if she tried.
Yaz stands, turning to the central console.
“Keep an eye on her for me, will you?” She says to the ship, her voice way too loud against the silence. “I’ll be right back. Let me know if she wakes up.”
The TARDIS chirps back in response. Quickly, Yaz heads up the stairs and towards the bedroom corridor, the only place she knows she can get what she needs. The route feels much shorter than normal, but she doesn’t complain. She continues on through the doorway of her and the Doctor’s bedroom.
She grabs a pillow off of the bed, turning on her heel back to the console room. When she reenters, she half expects the Doctor to be awake, hunched over the controls and greeting her with a smile like any other time, that perhaps by some miracle she isn’t dying and everything can go back to normal. That would certainly make things easier, wouldn’t it?
But the Doctor isn’t awake. She is still out cold on the floor. Yaz feels a pang in her chest at the sight after imagining her up and walking around – alive.
She kneels down, carefully placing the pillow under the Doctor’s head. It’s weird, manipulating an unconscious person’s body, but it feels necessary. Yaz adjusts the way the Doctor’s arms lay at her sides, opting instead to rest her hands across her abdomen. She adjusts her coat, brushing the dirt and debris from her clothing. Her hair is messy. Yaz rakes her fingers through it gently, releasing some of the tangles and tucking the blonde locks neatly behind her ear. She’s doing anything to help herself feel better, anything to touch her, to know she’s still here.
Her skin is so warm, warm like a human – which is bad, very wrong. Yaz doesn’t know what exactly that laser did to the Doctor. Maybe it injured her from within and the regeneration energy is trying to heal it. That makes sense, Yaz thinks. Though not much about any of this makes sense, none of it is fair. Yaz’s life has revolved around the Doctor for so long now, she’s not sure what to do without her. All of this has suddenly become that much more real, and she’s terrified.
She wishes she would have shot the Master when she had the chance.
But now isn't the time for anger, or worrying about what she should have done. Now is the time for making sure nothing else bad happens and that the Doctor stays safe. Yaz isn’t going to leave her side. She’s decided that now. She doesn’t care how long she has to sit and wait, but she will watch over her Doctor until the inevitable happens. Time passes differently in the TARDIS, anyway. Maybe it won’t feel like eternity, even if it is.
She would wait an eternity for her any day.
So Yaz moves to a seated position, crossing her legs underneath her, and settles in for however long this is going to be. Maybe she should have grabbed a pillow for herself. She lets out a sigh.
“Right then,” she says. “What do we do now, Doctor?”
The lack of response was expected, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“Is it weird to talk to you? Sort of feels like it might be, but I don’t care. We never got the chance to talk any other time, may as well take the opportunity here. Neither of us were ever good at it. I think that’s something I learned from you along the way,” she laughs. “You were definitely worse at it, though.”
Yaz looks down at her hands where she has them clasped in her lap. Why is she nervous?
“I’m sure you know this already, but there’s a lot we need to talk about. I don’t think there’s enough time to cover all of it, unfortunately,” she looks up at the Doctor again, her heart racing. “I don’t even know if you can hear me, but I’m going to try. It’ll help pass the time. They always say you should talk to people in comas because they can hear you, so I’m hoping you hear at least some of this.”
Yaz never even properly admitted her feelings to the Doctor, if she thinks about it. If she never admits it at all, it will eat her alive for the rest of her life. Maybe saying all of it to someone who can’t react or respond will make it easier.
“I want to tell you everything,” she chuckles. “I just don’t know where to start. Maybe that’s why it was so hard for you. I think I get it now.”
Yaz inhales a breath, fighting back tears that sting at her eyes once again. After crying so much already, she would have thought there were no more tears left.
“S’pose I could just start at the beginning, that first night on the train when you fell from the sky – the night we met. I had just started my career as police,” Yaz smiles at the memory. “First time I laid eyes on you, I felt a sort of pull towards you. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I obviously do now. I was only nineteen then, how time flies. Don’t even know how old I am at this point. I think I got that from you, too.
“We had our first off-world trip, whether or not we planned for it,” she shudders, remembering the sensation of being teleported to space without equipment. She’s thankful for the TARDIS providing everything for them earlier today. “But then, seeing the TARDIS for the first time was pretty exciting. I saw the way you looked at it with such hope, such joy, and how you were so happy to get us back home and safe,” she pauses. “The inside was definitely more impressive than the outside, though, I must admit.”
The TARDIS offers an indignant vworp! at that. Yaz laughs.
“Then we had our first trip into history, and a pretty big one, at that – Rosa Parks!” she exclaims. “Even knowing how it was going to end, seeing it all play out in front of us and being part of it was life-changing. So much so that I didn’t want to go home after just those two trips, if I’m to tell the truth here. Sure, I said I missed my family, and I did, but…”
Yaz trails off. Her family.
How long has it been? For her it’s been years, but for them, she could easily turn up hours after she last left. Would they notice that she’d aged?
“You looked so sad to drop us off,” she continues. “I remembered you saying you had no family, so I thought it might be nice to invite you for tea. I loved watching you wander around my flat, rambling about views and sofas, talking with my dad about conspiracies. Is it bad that I imagined more of that?”
The tears begin to fall again, and she doesn’t bother to stop them.
“It was all so domestic,” she chuckles through her tears. “I let myself imagine a life like that with you – living in a flat and getting a purple sofa like you wanted. In another life, maybe we could. I would love to just sit and watch nonsense reality television with you, sit around the dining table making the grocery list with you on the weekends, cook our favourite meals in a kitchen too small for the both of us, where we inevitably end up grabbing takeaway when we nearly burn the place down.”
Yaz stares off in the distance, imagining it all over again. She did get some of those domestic things with her time on the TARDIS, but it would never be what she wanted it to be. It would never be properly human.
“Then you took me to see my nani in the past, which I’m still so thankful for, by the way. It was not the happy story I was hoping for, but it gave me answers I didn’t know I was searching for.” Yaz looks down at the Doctor again. “You said you wanted information about a life you never knew. I didn’t exactly know what you meant by that. Still don’t, but I hope you can figure it out without me.
Hopefully you’re able to let the next one in, then maybe they can help you.”
Yaz doesn’t want to be bitter. The Doctor doesn’t deserve it right now; but Yaz didn’t deserve the cold shoulder the Doctor gave her, either. All she wanted was to understand, to help. Yaz has to be honest with herself, though, because when she needed help all those years ago, she didn’t tell anyone. She struggled alone.
Maybe she’s more like the Doctor than she realised.
“So many adventures, helping so many people, it’s what I’ve always wanted, you know,” she smiles sadly, ready for the next big admission. “I never told you about that, did I? When I was younger… I had problems with some things. That led to me running away from home and I was about to make a bad decision, but there was this woman – this police officer – who talked me out of all of it.
“I wanted to be that person for other people and I figured I had found my calling. I immediately started planning my path around all of that, but quickly found out it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But also I just knew I wanted to challenge myself, and they never let me.”
Yaz’s gaze falls to the floor between them. It doesn’t feel as silly, now, to be talking to someone who can’t hear you and therefore won’t respond. It’s allowing her to express things she never thought she would ever say out loud, and she’s finding herself rethinking all of it as she goes.
“But I eventually found that calling… with you, Doctor. It was challenging sometimes, definitely, but that’s what I wanted my police career to be. I even sort of ruined that career because of you,” she says with a scoff. “Up until the whole run-in with MI6 I think it was okay, that they were believing every excuse I could come up with, but that’s about when they got fed up with me disappearing all the time and asking for so much time off.
“That was fun, too, the spy stuff. At least, it was fun until the Master showed up. Though technically he was there the whole time, we just didn’t know it was him.”
Thinking about it now, that was possibly the most danger she’s ever been in. It’s hard to reminisce about those types of adventures, the ones where their lives were actually properly threatened. Especially considering the Master was behind all of those plans. Having only just experienced more of his atrocities, it puts a bitter taste in her mouth.
He tried to kill them – genuinely, truly, attempted to crash a plane with her and Ryan and Graham in it after taking the Doctor to the Kassaavin realm.
“Still have no idea what he did to you,” Yaz shakes her head. “Or who he even is, really. He showed up, and that’s when you changed. That’s when you started acting different and being all secretive.”
And of course, once they thought they were rid of him, he showed up again at the boundary when they were trying to escape the Cybermen. He took the Doctor then, as well, leaving them all to fend for themselves. Yaz had been brave enough to follow them through the boundary, not expecting to end up on the Doctor’s home planet.
“He did something to you on Gallifrey, too. I remember finding you unconscious on the floor after whatever happened. I thought you were dead when we found you,” she says with a huff. “But look where we are now. Dying for real.”
Yaz reaches for the Doctor’s hand, so warm against her own skin. She intertwines her fingers with the Doctor’s lifeless ones – a touch she longed for through the glass that separated them earlier today.
Get off me, Yaz!
She flinches at the memory.
“I didn’t want to let you go. Didn’t want you to sacrifice yourself to stop him, but you did it anyway. I suppose now, I get it. I’ve seen what he can do, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
She squeezes the Doctor’s hand, half expecting her to squeeze back. She doesn’t.
“Those ten months without you were so hard, I had no idea if you were even alive. It was then, I think that I started to realise how I felt about you. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and all,” she says shyly.
“At the time, I didn’t even realise that it was ten months because I spent most of it in that TARDIS. I wanted to figure it out. I wanted to find a way back to you, and I wasn’t about to stop for the sake of making appearances with my family.”
It’s a bit selfish, she realises now. Her family had to have been worried about her, knowing she was home and safe, but still she slipped away every chance she got to try to figure out how to fly the TARDIS.
"And then you came back. We were sitting at Graham's piecing together the puzzle of what the Daleks were doing on Earth again, and I heard it. I heard the TARDIS. And then seeing you step out, I don’t think I've ever felt as conflicted as I did then. Because I was only just starting to understand my feelings for you, which was scary on its own, then it was relief that you were safe and alive, but then I remember feeling anger. I was so angry, Doctor.
"I think it was a mix of being confused about my own feelings and then having felt abandoned by you all at the same time, right when I probably needed you most. I know it wasn't your fault, though. Maybe not then, but at least I do now.
"So I'm sorry I shoved you. I regretted it as soon as I did it, honestly."
Yaz lets silence fall over her for a moment, turning that memory over in her mind. There had been so many emotions on that day, and she feels some of them now. She does regret it, but there also is a part of her that liked the catharsis of shoving someone when you're angry at them. In a way, it felt like the appropriate response. She smiles to herself.
"But maybe you deserve to be humbled every now and then, that was my way of doing that."
She keeps hold on the Doctor’s hand, using her free one to idly trace shapes onto her jeans. If the Doctor was awake, this would be a part where she wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye.
"Jack knew," her voice croaks out. "He didn't say it outright, but he knew. He gave the impression that he felt the same about you… Maybe not this version specifically, but a past version. Again, there are things I regret – things I said to him about you that I wish I could take back."
She inhales a deep breath.
“I told him that I’d rather not have known you, after being hurt so badly by you being taken away. I’ve decided now that that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told anyone, because knowing you is one of the best things to ever happen to me.
“Then, he said that I was lucky to know you – to travel with you – that very few people get this opportunity and I’m lucky you wanted me to come along. I suppose now, knowing about all of these other people who know you from decades ago, that’s truer than I thought it to be at the time. Some of them you left behind, but you wanted me to stay.”
Yaz lifts her gaze to look at the Doctor again, adjusting her grip on her hand into a gentle hold.
“And you were so excited when I stayed,” she laughs, a tear falling down her cheek. She wipes it away. “I decided then that I was going to get you to open up more, but you never did. You kept making excuses on why you couldn’t tell me anything, running around trying to find Karvanista and something about the Division – still don’t know what that is, by the way – and that hurt, it really did. You were dragging me along every which way to all sorts of times and planets, and you never spoke a word about it. All I wanted to do was help and you wouldn't let me.”
There were so many people she found herself capable of helping during their travels, but she could never help the one person who was right in front of her, perhaps the one who needed it most.
She runs her thumb across the Doctor’s knuckles. Her mind is wandering back to the darker side of things that she tries to avoid, thinking about all the ways the Doctor hurt her. She backtracks before it gets too far away.
“Yet I stuck with you the whole time – I stuck with you because there were ways you did open up, maybe not in words but in gestures. I remember that first night when Ryan and Graham left, you were so exhausted.”
Her heart aches at the memory, the Doctor putting on a brave face for everyone while they battled the Daleks but letting it slip once they were alone. It was then that Yaz could see her sunken eyes and the way her clothes were just a little baggier than normal, how much her hair had grown. She saw how much older she looked.
Yaz still doesn’t know how long she was in that cell.
“You had asked me to bring you tea before bed, you knew that I knew how you liked it: way too much sugar for any normal person and just a splash of milk,” she smiles fondly. “I made it for you and brought it to you. I was going to leave, but you stopped me.”
Yaz, wait.
The Doctor’s voice echoes in her mind, so small, so weak, after everything she had gone through. She remembers seeing her hazel eyes pleading from across the room.
Can you stay?
“I thought I had dreamt it,” Yaz admits. “But I suppose being alone in prison for God knows how long would leave you starved for any contact with any other person. Even for you, Doctor, even though you never really liked being touched under any other circumstances. At the time, that’s how I saw it. I didn’t think it meant anything. Looking back now, I wish I would have realised sooner that it did.
“Because the next thing I knew, it was routine for us. Even when we argued about whatever planet you were dragging me along to, we still found each other’s company at the end of the day.”
She can’t help but think about how that wouldn’t happen later today – that they had their last night together and didn’t know. Even just stepping into their bedroom earlier, she should have thought about it, should have taken in the sight of their shared space one last time. If she would have known, she would have savoured it more, she would have held the Doctor a bit tighter last night, would have lazed around with her a bit longer this morning.
Too late for that, now.
“Another grand gesture of yours was showing me how to fly the TARDIS properly, and you taught me to read a bit of Gallifreyan. You saw my notes from those ten months and decided I was worth teaching, I guess. And I’m so thankful for that, because without being able to do that, today would have gone very badly.”
As if it could have gone any worse than this.
A sob escapes her mouth before she can even think to stop it, but she doesn’t care anymore. She’s getting close to the end of her story – the end of their story.
“Then, of course, silly old Dan came along,” she sing-songs through tears. “If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have gotten to where we did, would we? He saw me every day for four years with that hologram you gave me – another gesture of yours – and he saw right through me the same way Jack did. Again, I’m so thankful for the hologram. Don’t know what I would have done without it. But, after the Flux and everything, Dan’s the one who made me admit it to myself, because I was scared to.”
The Doctor never knew about her struggle with her sexuality, would never know, now. There’s no harm in speaking it into existence if she wouldn’t hear it. Another sob before she continues.
“I had never fallen for a woman before I met you – I never let myself. Even if you joke about not being one… or being a man before. I think this still counts, doesn’t it? For me it does.”
Yaz laughs pitifully at herself, wiping tears away. “I fell for you so hard. Especially when you started showing it back, even if only for a little bit.”
She recalls the first instance of what she could only consider flirting, when the Doctor was willing to leave Dan behind with pirates, presumably to be alone with her.
Come on, tell me you’re impressed.
“I know Dan talked to you. He had to have. There’s no way you would have done all of that on your own. You took me to the bottom of the ocean, for God’s sake. And it was beautiful.”
Not a bad date, am I?
“It was one of the best dates I’ve ever been on, if it even was one. Really thought you were going to kiss me,” Yaz giggles, sniffling. “Really wanted you to.”
It definitely wasn’t the first time she had imagined kissing the Doctor, and it certainly wasn’t the last. Even after agreeing to stay friends, she imagined it. She feels guilty thinking about it briefly now.
“You said you would date me if you could, that I was one of the greatest people you’ve ever known. You even said I was up there with your wife – which,” she pauses, holding up an accusatory finger at the Doctor. “By the way, if you’re trying to flirt with someone, maybe don’t mention having a wife,” she scolds jokingly.
“It was all a blur, then. Up until our conversation on the beach.”
Yaz’s gaze falls again, her smile faltering.
“I think I knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t work, but hearing you say it made it real, it made it hurt. And even if we agreed to stay friends, it didn’t make the feelings go away… because they’re still here.”
Yaz reaches to cup a hand around the Doctor’s cheek where she lay, still so lifeless on the floor. Despite everything, she still loves her. She can’t imagine a universe where she doesn't love her.
Yaz swipes her thumb at the dirt that was still on the Doctor’s skin, remnants of the planet that was fabricated to destroy her. She doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to think about the Master or the Daleks or the Cybermen or anything like that. She just wants to think about the Doctor.
She thinks about how much she cares about her, all of the adventures they had together, how beautiful she is despite her state, how beautiful she always has been, and how much younger she looks now. How much older Yaz feels after everything they’ve gone through.
“I suppose now’s a better time than any to say it, isn’t it?”
Yaz holds the Doctor's hand in both of her own, hesitant to speak those three words she wishes she could have said sooner. How does she even say it? All this time she dreamt of telling her how she feels and she can’t bring herself to do it.
She can feel her throat closing up again, more sobs trying to escape, but she holds them back. These next words need to be perfectly articulated. She inhales a breath.
“Doctor… I love you,” she exhales. “If you can hear me, and if you take anything from this, I want you to know that you are loved, and by no one more than me. I love everything about you – always have, always will. I love how you bring hope with you wherever you go, how you do everything you can to help those in need. You’re everything that I want to be. And in a lot of ways, I have become what I want to be. You were the first person to make me feel like I was me.
“And I love the TARDIS, and your sonic screwdriver, and your coat, and your rainbow stripes,” Yaz laughs at herself. She’s taking an inventory of everything and committing it to memory the best she can. “And how your trousers don’t reach, and your socks, and your earring, and your hair, and your laugh, and of course your smile. Oh, how I'll miss your smile.
“I’ll miss seeing you run around the console, crash landing us in the wrong place and the wrong time period. I’ll miss waking up every day with you, getting ready for the day with you, eating breakfast with you and Dan, and picking out our outfits in the wardrobe, especially when we got to wear fun stuff. Even though you wear the same thing every day… Well, almost.”
There were a few variations of the Doctor's outfit, but she hardly ever wore anything outside of the range of her daily outfit. Except, for one particular time that Yaz was particularly fond of. She can feel a blush rising to her cheeks at the memory.
“The tux was my favourite though, I must admit,” Yaz giggles. “Shame I only got to see it once.”
Her smile drops, remembering that all of those things she loved about the Doctor are about to be gone. Obviously, she knows the physical things will be gone, but the rest of it is a toss-up from what she understands.
"I know you won't be the same after this,” she speaks solemnly. “You'll still be you, obviously. You'll still be the Doctor, but you won't be my Doctor.
"Everyone gets their own version of you, though, don't they? Ace and Tegan had their Doctors and I have mine. So… maybe if you’re going, then it's time for me to go, too. I’ve got to give someone else this opportunity of a lifetime. You can’t have me forever.. We got our time together. All of our days – as numbered as they were – are coming to an end, and I think I'm okay with it. Is that wrong?"
She trails off, letting silence fall over her and the Doctor once more. She doesn't want to leave, but if some other person is taking her Doctor’s place, she's not sure she can handle the heartache of it all. Whoever that person ends up being might be the complete opposite: they might not laugh at the same jokes, they might not like custard creams, and they might not scrunch their nose the same way as her Doctor.
They might not love her anymore. But her Doctor always will. Wherever this Doctor is, Yaz will stay right by her side for however long she has left.
And Yaz knows there isn’t much time left, but there is still so much she wants to say. She could have all the time in the world and she still doesn’t think she would be able to gather all of her thoughts into something coherent. It’s a miracle she was able to say this much so far.
Time is always moving forward, and it always runs out. She knows this, but no one knows it more than the Doctor. All of the places they’ve seen, all of the things they’ve done, and the constant cheating of death and destruction for the sake of saving people, it’s no doubt the universe has come to collect its dues. Maybe this is the debt the Doctor has to pay for everything she’s done.
Yaz’s gaze drifts away from where it had been mostly locked on the Doctor this whole time. Maybe just a bit of silence is what she needs. Maybe it will help her come up with something else to say.
She lets her eyes fall shut. She is so tired.
So tired that she nearly misses the movement of the Doctor’s hand in her own. Yaz opens her eyes, looking down at their joined hands where a golden glow snakes out from in between her fingers. The warmth intensifies against her skin, nearly burning her to the touch.
“No. No, no, no, no, no, no,” Yaz cries. “Not yet. I’m not ready.”
It’s an immediate retraction of her statement from before. After being left behind by the Doctor so many times, it seems like leaving once and for all should be so easy, but it isn’t. She feels tears stream down her face again, and she does her best to fight them. She doesn’t want the Doctor to see her cry; she wants to be strong for her when she wakes up. Wiping the tears, she takes a few deep breaths to try to keep the rest of them at bay.
“I love you,” she whispers one last time, taking the Doctor’s head in her hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead, which now feels feverish against her lips.
It’s hard having to tear herself away, but she does. She watches the Doctor for a moment longer as the golden glow of regeneration glimmers across her skin. It’s quite beautiful, actually, despite it being the indication of something so sad – and indication of the end. The light fades, but the Doctor continues to stir. A small groan escapes her lips and her brow furrows, as if she is simply trying to wake from a nightmare.
To Yaz, this is a nightmare. It’s just not one she can wake up from. It’s one she’s going to have to live in for the rest of her life.
Best to take control of the narrative where she has a choice, then. Yaz wants to – needs to – separate herself from the Doctor while she still has the strength to do so. She stands from her place on the floor and wipes the last of the wetness from her cheeks.
One last lesson from the Doctor: always put on a facade of normalcy when people are worried about you or when you’re worried about them. It’s the best way to convince everyone that everything is okay, even when it obviously isn’t. This is definitely one of those occasions, and the role of the Doctor is currently empty.
Yaz steps back over to the console, gathers herself, and puts on a brave face. And she waits. A few agonising moments pass before the Doctor’s voice cuts through the silence:
“Did we do it?” She asks, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.
Yaz looks down at the Doctor, and she holds her head high. It’s usually Yaz who was asking if they succeeded – if they saved the day – but this time it’s the Doctor. Perhaps this feeling is why she picks the people she does to travel with her. She picks the ones who ask the right questions, who have the same bravery and sense of wonder as her. It’s that sort of bravery and wonder Yaz fell in love with all those years ago, and it’s the same kind she embodied along the way.
But Yaz needs to embody a different, reassuring part of her, now, because this is one of the tougher parts of being the Doctor. Yes, they saved the day, but there are debts to be repaid.
Her reply is simple:
“We did it.”