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Yaz felt her stomach drop out of her body. Surely it was a prop. Someone was shooting a movie, a show, a commercial, something else, something that didn’t involve the Doctor.
The shop lights were warm and yellow against the night’s sky. She was walking back to her train stop when she saw the familiar blue box. She walked up to it and pressed her hand against the door. The door thrummed, alive and bursting with energy. Yaz pulled her hand back, as if she were burned. She knew that feeling, of the TARDIS idling. It was the Doctor, parked right in front of her again.
She backed away. She had just come from the support group, she didn’t need this right now. She had just told Tegan it was getting easier; how would she react to this? Shake her head at Yaz’s delusions?
The door flung back, and a gaunt, spiky-haired man poked his head out. Yaz stopped, terrified and curious, wishing she had ran away instead. He wasn’t her Doctor, but she wasn’t sure if he was anyone else’s, either. He looked familiar, but slightly off, like a mistake.
“Yaz?!” he exclaimed. “I thought I just left you.”
Yaz frowned. The flippancy towards her feelings did remind her of her Doctor, in one crucial way. “Yes. It’s been a few weeks.” Her parents had been happy to see her again, letting her sit on the couch and stare out the window for as long as she wanted.
“Only half an hour for me. Hmm, I thought I had this calibrated better, maybe I did the “return to last destination” setting instead. Post-regeneration energy getting to me again.” He babbled like her Doctor, but almost like he was showing off, rather than excited to share the information. She wanted to run away and run back into the TARDIS at the same time.
“You are different…but I feel like I’ve seen this face before…Martha showed me pictures of you two together…” She took out her mobile and pulled up her pictures, looking for the shots of the Doctor the group had shared. She scrolled through scans of old polaroids and newer digital files, to find Martha’s pictures. The Doctor standing before her had rougher, more weathered skin, but even the grainy quality of Martha’s old camera phone pictures showed the resemblance between the two.
“I know, it’s not completely unknown for a Time Lord to reuse another face, but it is highly unlikely- wait, how do you know this old face? And how do you know Martha!?” She missed their prattle, their incessant need to talk. Her parents’ flat was so quiet. No one wanted to talk around her, like she was a shrine, respected but kept at a distance.
“We talk, sometimes. Your old companions - not just the Fam,” she said, lowering her eyes. They hadn’t talked about telling the Doctor about the support group yet. They weren’t sure how well the Doctor would take it.
He cocked his head and crossed his arms, leaning against the closed door. “How’s old Martha, by the way? Last time I saw her, she had gone freelance.”
“She still is. She drops in when she can.” She had only met Martha once, at the second meeting, but it was enough to make them instant friends. She gave Yaz her phone number and texted her every day. She had known the impossible task of loving the Doctor, and the bittersweet one of walking away from it.
His smile faded slightly, as his memories of Martha came back. “I wish I was better to her…”
Yaz swallowed and batted her eyes to keep her tears from falling. The group had told her not to count on an apology - some people were given them, others were not. The Doctor was a person, not a god, and their forgiveness and apologies were mercurial, not regular. Sometimes they would admit their guilt many lives later, to new friends, but never to the person they hurt. She tucked this apology away, to give to Martha later.
A pulse of yellow light went through his neck, and he grabbed his throat, bent over and yelled in pain. Yaz stumbled forward and laid her hand on his shoulder. Even crouched, he still was taller than her. She missed being able to look her in the eyes.
“Are you okay?” She looked up the contacts on her mobile and started to text Dan for help.
“Yes, just regeneration energy settling in, do you remember the night we met and how sick I was?”
Yaz remembered every detail of that night, her Doctor running around in ratty, tattered clothes, her body glowing and leaching a glittering light. “Is that what happened to you? Regeneration?” She pocketed her phone.
“Yes, I thought it was old hat by now, but I guess it’s still a rough go of it.” He straightened up and cracked his neck. “Did I ever tell you about my fourth regeneration? Quite a hard one, I was passed out for most of it, and Tegan and Nyssa had to lug me around, quite nice of them –” He shouted and grabbed his side, turning around and stumbling back into the TARDIS. Yaz followed him in, rushing to look after him. He stopped in front of the console, bracing himself against it and clutching his ribs.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can get someone here to help us, maybe Martha or Kate – ”
“No no no, it’s okay, I’m just cooking, still quite gooey inside, you know.” He smiled, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with laugh lines. Yaz felt her heart leap, in spite of the Doctor’s different face. His breath evened out, and he put his hands on his knees. “Whew, glad that’s passed. Hopefully it will be smooth sailing after that.” He flicked a few switches on the console, and the TARDIS hummed in response.
She looked around the room; it was still the same, as far as she could tell. Still the same crystal beams, glowing yellow. Still the same metal walls, the stairs and walkway leading to her old room. It was her home, for four years.
“I haven’t really had time to redecorate. Not quite sure if I want to yet. Still trying to figure out what sort of man I am. Hard going back to one, after the last body; I was so fond of it.” His voice trailed off, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yaz, I know I asked you to leave me, so I could process and face my regeneration alone, but…would you like to come back? Be my companion again?” He gave a small smile. His eyes were still the soft, sweet brown that her Doctor had. She felt all the emotions she was fighting off break through. Tear started to trickle out of the corners of her eyes.
“Oh, Yaz, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to leave?” He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“No, no…no, don’t leave yet.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed. She wanted to run away, she wanted to stay, she wanted to go back to the night they met and set the terms again, make her understand that she wanted answers, communication, something more than what she was given. “It’s…I know it’s only been a short bit of time, Doctor, but I can’t. I can’t do this again.” The tears were steady now.
He pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest. She felt something on top of her head, a soft brush of her hair, then his lips on her forehead. She pounded her fists into his chest, and he took it, grunting slightly. She had just staunched the wound in her heart, and here they were, back again to rip it open. They could flit in and out of her life, ask for more, while she had to stay still and be content with nothing.
“Do you understand what you did? Four years of my life, ignoring me and avoiding all of my questions and requests. You pushed me aside without an explanation to return all different and ask me to come back again, like nothing happened?” she said, muffled by his chest.
“I’m sorry, Yaz.” He rested his chin on her head. In her daydreams, she thought of this moment, laying into them and telling them everything they had done wrong, and them apologizing. The apology sounded sincere, but it didn’t make her feel any better, just different. Her crying slowed; she wiped her face on his coat, the wool scratching her cheeks. She pulled away and crossed her arms, keeping her eyes on the ground. “I understand if you don’t want to see me –”
“I didn’t say that, either.” She took a shuddering, deep breath, then looked back at him. His cheeks shined in the light, and his coat and jacket were darkened from her tears.
“Do you want to leave?”
She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She took a quick, sweeping glance of the TARDIS; she didn’t know if it would be the last time she saw it or not. She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and walked to the door. She stopped, staring at the handles. What could she say – her Doctor didn’t want to do goodbyes, did this one?
“Yaz.”
She turned around. He was walking towards her. He stopped, threw his arms around her, and hugged her, not a mollifying one, like before, but a genuine one, his whole body warm and enveloping. She stood there, holding him and being held, for as long as she could bear, until her heart stopped hurting.
She pulled away and smiled at him, opening the door. The sky was still dark, the lights still bright against the night. She stepped away and heard it click closed. The brake released, and the wheeze of departure filled the air. She turned to watch it go – maybe not the last time, but the last time for now.