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Published:
2023-11-24
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1/1
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On The Shore

Summary:

After the death knell is rung, but before the arrangements are made, the Doctor doesn’t have enough time. But makes some for Ryan anyway.

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“Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Small universe. Smaller by about ninety-percent now. I suppose it’s obvious I tracked you down on purpose?”

“Little bit. Patagonia’s kinda out your way,” Ryan says, giving her a ‘not smooth’ kinda look. The Doctor shrugs and joins him by the waterside, taking off her boots so the cold water laps at her feet, both staring out over the gorgeous, calm, almost mirror-like lake. “Have you microchipped me or something?”

The Doctor laughs. A little too loudly. “Nah, I only thought about that after you’d already gone.”

“Might’ve helped us keep track of Granddad.”

She does another little laugh, dropping her chin to her chest. It sounds sad. The wind blows her hair everywhere, and she pushes it behind her ear. With a glowing hand.

“I like hearing you calling him that,” she says softly.

“Doctor-”

“It’s nice. It’s better isn’t it?”

“Your hand-” he tries to interrupt her again but she just keeps talking over him.

“It makes me think that,” she coughs and a burst of gold dissipates into the air, “It makes me think that maybe...” her voice sounds tight, “Like maybe I didn’t completely ruin your lives.”

“What?! Of course you didn’t ruin our lives!”

“Yeah, I did. I got your Nan killed. Got you nearly killed a dozen times. ...Hurt you,” the Doctor is looking away from him, down at her knees, but taps her head with a finger on fire.

He wonders if it hurts.

“I’m alright,” he insists, more worried about her. She just snorts at him.

“Oh, yeah? Are ya? Me too mate, me too. I’m always alright.”

The Doctor coughs and her fingers flare, and he finds himself instinctively grabbing them to put the fire out between his palms - as if that’s not a stupid thing to do. But no burning pain runs through him. They’re not even warm. Just her usual slightly too-cold.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting go, but she grabs one of his hands in a vise grip before he can pull it away.

“I messed your head up-”

“No you didn’t. And never on purpose anyway. Dad’s been way worse for that. Better since you had a go at him though.”

The Doctor’s hand tightens around his so painfully he wants to wrench her fingers away, but it glows at the same time and maybe it’s hurting her. Like giving birth, but to yourself.

The Doctor turns to him, her eyes too bright, from intensity, from gold.

“You know why I know what to say to crap dads who never see their kids and are never there when they need them? It’s cus I was one. I was the crap dad.”

Focusing on the pain in his hand feels easier.

“And you know what else? I was a crap granddad too. And I never told you. I never told either of you.”

Then suddenly something in his hand goes Wrong and he doesn’t need to try not to think anymore.

She lets go the second he gasps and her eyes go back to normal, after that bloke slapped him, that’s what she looks like. He feels faint and sick as she holds onto his sleeve, stops him drawing his hand too far away from her.

“Can’t do anything right by you, can I?” the Doctor says, her face hidden by her hair as she bends over it, gently running her fingertips down the side of his hand and it hurts, and he wants to pull away from her, but she shushes and chutches him like she knows, like he’s some injured animal.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it. I’m The Doctor. And this is why.”

The pulse of light that builds in her hands pulses down through her fingers and into his skin. He stops breathing, afraid of the sound that will come out of him if he does. Watches his hand shimmer with fire for a moment. And then…nothing. Nothing at all.

The Doctor strokes the back of his hand with a sweep of her thumbs. It doesn’t hurt. He carefully flexes his fingers, and when they meet the ghost of the pain, they push past it and he’s fine. Like waking up from a really bad dream.

She lets go of him and he rubs his hand. Has he got a regenerating hand now? Hopefully he’ll never find out, cus whatever happened there was pain enough for him.

“Sorry. About your hand. And that I didn’t tell you. Didn’t want to tell you. I know I should’ve but I didn’t. It hurts to think about.”

It takes him a moment to remember what was happening, what she was talking about. But he remembers as she glows again, and she turns back to the lake, pulling her legs up and hiding her hands in the bend of her knees.

“You have a kid?”

Had.”

The enormity of that hits him all in one go.

“Wait! You mean the Master killed-”

The Doctor shakes her head at him quickly, startled, “No, no, no. No. This was a long, long time ago. All trucies, before we even needed trucies. He spent more time with her than I did. No, she didn’t die, she was just…she didn’t exist anymore. That’s war for you - that’s what someone said, don’t even remember anymore, maybe they didn’t exist either. Used to be the greatest punishment, wiping someone from the universe, but by that point it was down to ‘oh but if this person had won the Presidency they might have invested in this instead of this’, and apparently I helped them do that job, not then but somewhen, and I don’t even know what’s going on with Susan anymore, I don’t want to look, I don’t want to find out, and it hurts to think about and sometimes I kinda wish I had just killed them all like I thought I did cus honestly it might’ve been better, but I don’t, but I do, but I don’t, but I do, but I don’t, but I do.”

The Doctor props her head on her knees and looks at him. But if he’s supposed to be following her, he isn’t. There always seems just an impossible amount of information he doesn’t know about her, or what he thinks he knows but he doesn’t, that almost makes him wonder if he knows her at all. But he does. This must be how she feels.

“Was this from the Memories?” he asks, and she turns away to look out over the water again.

“I haven’t even looked at them, Ryan. I can’t. I’m…I’m scared. I feel like I’m bad enough as it is. They’re mine, but they’re also somebody else’s, and I know I should, but I’m not doing it, they’re just there, in the TARDIS, and it’s scary enough not knowing who I’m gonna be, let alone not knowing who I was, but I could, and I should, but-

“Hey, the TARDIS will look after them ‘til you’re ready, right? Don’t stress about it.”

She looks at him like he’s off his head. But desperately wants to believe him. Feels like they’re flipping everything around.

“You’re not disappointed in me? Cus I’m disappointed in me.”

“Look, it’s your life. Not anyone else’s, yours. And you can do whatever you want to do with it.”

She sighs a little poof of gold dust like hitting a joint. Her body seems suddenly less tense.

“You should be a therapist.”

Ryan laughs. “Make a better one than a mechanic.”

Shame it’d cost so much money. And he’s probably not smart enough anyway. But everything he’s been seeing and doing here kinda does make him wish he’d been something more useful like that. Or been a nurse like Nan. Not that the engineering didn’t come in clutch with that solar panel though, but still.

“I never taught you anything about fixing or flying the TARDIS. I should have.”

“I didn’t ask. And not like there’s a load of time machines that need fixing out there, so not sure what good the experience would’ve been.”

“Hopefully the experience handling a daft alien will do something instead then.”

He’d say she’s not daft, but honestly that’d be more lie than politeness.

“Does it help a lot? Therapy?” the Doctor asks. “Talking to you helps me.”

“Uh, yeah, I think it does. I mean obviously I can’t talk to anyone about any of this stuff, but there’s Granddad. And Tibo knows I’m not that kind of mental at least.”

“But you’d like to be able to? It’d help?” the Doctor bites her lip, then cuts him off before he can answer. “You remember Jack?”

“Cheesy.”

“Think he prefers handsome, but yeah, that’s the one. He…travelled with me before.”

“Yeah, I know.” And he’s called Ryan too. Not for a date, just checking everything was good - or that’s what he said, anyway.

“Well, I’ve travelled with other people. Quite a lot of other people. Would you want to…talk to them? Would it help? Help Yaz you think?”

Ryan can’t even begin to think what’s gonna help Yaz. Last time he dealt with grief by disappearing into the stars for a couple of years. Maybe Patagonia would count.

“I mean it’s gotta be worth a try.”

The Doctor swallows like she was afraid he’d say that, even though it was her idea.

“They might... I’ve not always been... I’m not perfect.”

“Yeah, really? Wow, that’s news to me.”

“Cheeky,” she elbows him. “Some of it’ll be bad though. Maybe really bad. I-” she grimaces and sniffs, and her voice shakes a little, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“No chance,” Ryan says firmly, leaning against her, cus an arm around her shoulder might be too much for her.

The Doctor sniffs loudly again, and sighs, voice sounding thick and stuffy.

“Can’t believe I’m dying already. Not long now. Time’s run out on me, she always does. Turnabout’s fair play, I guess. Ugh. Not got the time to say everything I want to say. Do all those little things I thought I’d get round to.”

Then the Doctor jostles them where her arm’s pressed against his.

“Hey, what’s that over there?”

She points to the far-off bank of an island, and he squints hard for signs of approaching alien, as something soft and slightly lingering suddenly touches his cheek.

“Woah, woah, woah! Don’t get weird on me now!” Ryan says, throwing himself away from her.

“I’ve got to kiss someone!”

“Kiss Yaz!”

“I can’t. Messed her about enough as it is,” the Doctor mutters as she rams her boots back on.

“Yes you can! Go kiss Yaz! She wants you to mess her about!” That came out way too sexual, but fuck it, Yaz should have that too.

“Sometimes people want things that are bad for them, and dislike things that are good for them,” the Doctor gabbles, then gets to her feet so quickly she stumbles back from him. He doesn’t chase after her.

“You’re not bad for her!” he shouts.

Suddenly the Doctor stops dead. He’s terrified that’s what’s just happened.

But then she’s racing back to him, and doesn’t stop. Colliding into him and almost sending him backwards into the lake. And as he straightens back up her arms are so tight around his neck, he thinks he lifts her toes off the floor.

“I loved you,” she whispers into his neck, and even through his closed eyes he sees her shine.

It suddenly hits him that this is it. He never got a goodbye with Nan, or Mum. He doesn’t know what to say. Except for what he dreamed of getting to say to them.

“Love you too,” he says back, his voice cracking embarrassingly but he can’t bring himself to care right now. He hugs her back just as tight, leaning over her, she feels so much smaller than he’d think someone as huge and bold as her would. Bigger on the inside. “You better tell Yaz that too you know,” he adds.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” she says quietly into his hoodie.

“Didn’t hurt me.”

“You’re different.”

He knows.

After a moment the Doctor wiggles in his arms, and he hurries to commit to memory the moment, how this hug feels, the smell of burnt-out fuses and engine oil and hand soap. Then he lets her go.

She ducks her head, rubbing her eyes, and Ryan looks out over the lake because she would if it was him. But it isn’t. He almost wants it to be, release the knot in his diaphragm, but the tears won’t come. Maybe he can’t feel it a third time. Or maybe it’s because he knows that on some level, the Doctor won’t really be gone.

“I should get back. Yaz’ll be worrying.”

That’s an understatement. Probably using her ten minutes or whatever to crush everything down inside her so she can be everything the Doctor needs. Handle her death perfectly. Let her heart break on her own time, she’s still got a job to do. Ryan looks over the Doctor’s head to the TARDIS back by the trees. He’s pretty sure the door was closed before.

“Want me to come with you?” he asks, possibly more for Yaz than for her.

“I think I need to do this alone. I’ll never let go otherwise. And I’ve got to, or else you’ll never become your own amazing people. You can’t grow without freedom, or you do, but wrong, and that’s even worse. I don’t want that for any of you. Ryan, I let you go.”

Suddenly he doesn’t want to. Wants to hug her again; she’d let him. But he’s taken too much of her time already.

“Come and see me sometime, yeah? You know where I am apparently,” he says.

“I’ll be a different person, Ryan.”

“Yeah, well so will I. That’s how life works.”

The Doctor gives him a wry smile.

“I know. Scares me. The idea that I might not recognise you.”

“I’ll still be me though, even if I’m different. And you’ll still be you, even if you’re different. And we’ll still be mates,” he says firmly.

A breeze blows the gold from her, and it seems to lighten her.

“I’m really glad I got to be your friend, Ryan.”

Any words catch in his throat, and the Doctor nods like she understands, and for a second time, turns to go. ‘Look after her’, that’s what he wants to say. But then the Doctor’s going to be dead, isn’t she?

It’s too important, even if they’ve done all the nice words already, and he grabs her shoulder, and makes her jump.

“Don’t leave Yaz on her own somewhere, yeah? Or bring her here- nah, wait, don’t do that, she’ll need a passport to get home, uh-”

The Doctor shakes her head.

“No, no, I won’t, I... I’ve got an idea now. And I’ll make sure she’s with Graham and Dan and-” the Doctor looks at her wrist like she’s wearing a watch, but it’s just her hand flaring even brighter than before. “Oh no! I’m not gonna have time for them if I... But I wanted to be with-”

The Doctor looks back to the TARDIS in panic.

“Be with Yaz. Granddad will understand, be with Yaz.” Ryan tells her firmly. The first time he thinks he’s ever tried to tell her what to do.

She bites her lip, looking up.

“You’re sure? It won’t make him feel like when…when your Nan-”

Maybe. He doesn’t know. But what he does know is that Graham would never ever want the Doctor to prioritise him over her spending these last moments alone with Yaz. And if this Dan’s known them more than five minutes, he’s probably the same.

“Be with Yaz. That’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing.” The Doctor nods, looking reassured, like she’s thankful someone’s telling her what that is.

He’s said goodbye to her before, but watching her walk away from him is different. But he needs to let her — this version of her at least — go, just like she will him. Let her be something new. And then hopefully she’ll come back and see him, and he’ll get to meet her all over again.

He wonders if Yaz will too.

The Doctor turns at the TARDIS doors and waves him goodbye, with both arms. Daft alien. Ryan waves back.

“Love you!” the Doctor shouts across the distance, louder than he’s heard her shout before. Like she’s trying to be loud enough that you could even hear her inside the TARDIS. But it doesn’t work that way - transdimensional pocket whatever. She’ll just have to tell Yaz to her face.

And then she’s gone.

Ten minutes later, his phone pings with a text. It has none of the usual emoji spam or silly pictures that usually mark her exchanges with him. Just an address of a community centre back in England, and a date and time.

…Which is in half an hour.

But that’s the Doctor for you. She can figure out how a plane works to help him land it, but Ryan doesn’t think she actually knows what they’re for.

So he starts burning the time he doesn’t dare risk interrupting Yaz, by searching for a way to move his return flight in a way that won’t bankrupt him. Which with fifty-six quid to his name, is proving to be pushing it.

The sun starts to set on the lake, making it glow luminescent orange like the Doctor. Like maybe she’s done already. Dying. Or already dead. No. Already born. Someone brand new.

There’s a slosh of water, and a slap, slap, slap.

Ryan turns.

A knee-high muppet stares back at him.

He almost forgot why he was here.

“Hey, are you the thing living in the lake?”

It points a soggy arm towards the tiny island about half a mile out.

“In, on. Close enough. You’ve gone viral on TikTok, you know.”

It looks at him like he’s talking jibberish. Sort of like Grandad does.

“Are you dangerous? Cus I’m not having you bite me. Or shoot me.” Sure it’s naked but he’s learned not to judge a furball by its deceptive fluff-folds.

The creature opens its mouth and gurgles like mossy rocks in a blender, “Doc-tor?”

Ryan shakes his head.

“Do I look like the Doctor?” It blinks its large lizardy eyes at him and shrugs wetly. “Nah mate, you’ve just missed her.”

The creature points up, its fur plastered to its furry little arms. Must take time to swim with those.

“Home?” it gurgles.

“Airline’s messing you about too, huh?” Ryan replies.

And wonders if it’s too early to text the Doctor for a lift.