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He took a breath. The nerves and pain from their last meeting were still fresh, and it hadn’t been long at all since then – at least for himself. For her, it had been over a year since the ice cream and tears. What had she done in the time since? Had she gone back to her old job? Found a place at UNIT under Kate’s guidance? Probably not – Mel had mentioned seeing her at the ex-companion meetings, but nothing about working together.
He hoped she’d moved on happily. The last time she’d had time on Earth without him, it had gone pretty disastrously – a sin he still lambasted himself over. Over their last few adventures together, he’d tried his best to prepare her for the inevitable, and while it hadn’t been ideal, it had seemed like he’d done an alright job at it. Hopefully.
And besides, that’s what the group was for, right? If nothing else, it was a consistent opportunity for the others to keep an eye on her, and surely they wouldn’t let her fall back into a spiral like that. She was doing fine. Definitely. Must be. Had to be.
What if she’d really moved on? Met someone. Someone who didn’t have a habit of disappearing for months on end. Someone who could offer everything she’d hoped for that day on the beach. Everything she deserved.
That’d be nice.
Wouldn’t it?
Part of him – a pretty big part – wanted to leave. It had been about a month since he’d settled down on Earth, and he still wasn’t really used to the whole ‘reconnecting with old friends’ deal. That wouldn’t be fair, though. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out he was living a (sort of) normal life from someone else, and risk her thinking that she had been the problem in their… situation.
The absolute minimum she deserved was a bit of in-person honesty. Well, the honesty technically came in the form of a letter, but at least it was being delivered in-person.
He knocked on the door rapidly, letting his nerves do most of the movement for him.
Soon, he heard movement, and a middle-aged woman opened the door.
“Yaz’s mum!” he cried, beaming cheerfully. He gripped her hand firmly and started shaking. “Right? Absolute pleasure to meet you – brilliant!”
“Uh, hello.” Najia muttered, taken aback by the sudden and vigorous greeting. “Najia.”
“John Smith – I’m a friend of your daughter.” He was still shaking her hand, still grinning like a madman. “Well, friend-of-a-friend. Well, I’ve met her.”
He finally released her hand, and she smiled warmly.
“Well, then, I can go get her for you.” She hung in the doorway for a moment, eyes widening in invitation. “Do you want to come in? I can put the kettle on.”
He’d anticipated this scenario, and prepared his excuse ahead of time. He put on a well-practiced mild grimace.
“Ah, no. It’s more of a passing-through kind of deal. Just needed to pass something on to her. In-person. Then I’ll be out your hair.”
“If you insist. Good to meet you, John.”
Najia disappeared back inside, leaving the door open. The nerves returned. He’d hoped Yaz would be the one to open the door, and he’d be done already, but it seemed the universe was keen to drag it out.
He heard Najia’s muffled cry echo through the flat.
“Yaz! Someone to see you. Says they’ve got something for you.”
A few disparate noises followed – doors opening and closing, footsteps, general household shuffling.
“Who is it?”
Shit. Hearing that voice again set his hearts going like jackhammers. He really wasn’t ready for this.
But he wasn’t here for himself. This was for her. An apology. A promise. Or a warning, depending on how she felt about everything.
“John Smith? Friend-of-a-friend, he said.”
Seconds later, Yaz’s face appeared in front of him, a polite smile adorning it. Polite. Not excited. Not adoring. Not any of the myriad emotions he was used to seeing on that face. Just a dose of politeness for a stranger. Because that’s all he was right now.
“Hi.”
“Yaz!”
He opened his arms, and awkwardly gestured for a moment before settling on going for another handshake, which she returned. He tried to smile, but was sure the guilt and pain must be visible underneath it. If it was, Yaz didn’t let on.
“Great to see you again. We met. A few years ago.” He released her hand and waved dismissively. “Only briefly; I’m sure you don’t recognise me.”
“Uh, yeah, sorry. Um, John, right? Good to see you.”
That polite smile again. The stab of pain that accompanied it.
“Can’t stay long, sorry. I actually just needed to deliver something.”
He pulled the letter out of his jacket pocket and held it up to her. She reached out and took it, frowning as she turned it over.
“Who’s it from?”
“She said you’d know.” he answered with a frown and half-hearted shrug.
“Alright.” She looked back at him. “I know you said you can’t stay, but… sure you don’t want a cuppa, or something?”
“No, no. Really can’t stop – busy day. Buuusy, busy.”
“If you’re sure… it was good see you. I’ll let you get back to things. Sure I’ll see you again sometime.”
He smiled, a little more genuinely than he had managed so far.
“Hopefully. See you around, Yasmin Khan.”
He turned, and briskly walked down the hallway, leaving a pleasantly surprised, albeit mildly confused, Yaz in his wake. She watched him go for a few seconds, trying to place him. He was right that she hadn’t recognised him, but there was something about him that was more familiar than a once-met friend-of-a-friend from years ago. She let it go, and closed the door behind her as she returned inside, walking into the main room.
She drove her thumb underneath the lip of the envelope, which was simply addressed to ‘Yaz’. She pulled the letter out and her heart sank. And flew. Somehow both at the same time, as if it wasn’t entirely sure how to feel.
A pair of hearts, cut out of a sheet of deep blue card paper.
“What was it, love?” Her mother’s voice pulled her back into reality, causing her to look up.
“Uh, just a letter…”
Yaz took a careful breath, then wet her lips as she tried to think of what else to add, how to explain, but couldn’t find the words.
“Who’s it from?” Najia frowned, taking in her daughter’s change in demeanour. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I just…” Yaz took in a quiet gasp, eyes widening. “Gimme a sec.”
She dropped the letter down on the table, and sprinted to her room, over to the window. She clicked the latch, throwing it open.
“Do-!”
Her shout was cut off as she heard the groan of the TARDIS, warm familiarity and cold pain churning together in her stomach. She saw the ship’s final moments of dematerialisation as it vanished, from the same spot she’d seen it sitting in so many times before.
A new face, new body. Taller, a little older, skinnier. Very bloody skinny. Was that healthy? Her Doctor hadn’t ever put on or lost weight. Even her hair barely grew out over the years. Maybe he was supposed to be that skinny.
A man.
Was it better or worse to know that? Did it make not having her easier or harder to bear? She supposed she’d never know, either way.
She went back to the living room, and collected the letter.
Najia had seen it, but of course hadn’t pried. She reached up from her seat, gently touching her daughter on the elbow.
“Is it her?” she whispered carefully.
Yaz looked at her mother, and saw the concern painted across her face.
“Sort of… I need to-” Yaz waved the letter in lieu of finishing the sentence.
“Yeah, of course.”
Najia gave her a comforting stroke on the arm before letting her go. She sat down on the chair opposite her mother, and finally peeled open the folded double-heart cut-out. An A4 sheet of paper had been folded up and glued to the inside, and now it unfurled. Yaz let out a soft snort of almost-laughter. Of course the letter was bigger on the inside. She didn't recognise the handwriting, but she supposed that made sense - new hands, new ergonomics.
Yaz,
There’s a lot of things I need to say, but I think the first is ‘sorry’. For a lot of things. For never getting it right. For everything I got wrong. For how things didn’t go between us. For how it ended.
I still think that was probably the best of some bad options, but I know that doesn’t stop it hurting. It still hurts for me, too, and I didn’t want to hurt you again any more than I had to, so I’m hoping you can forgive me for doing it this way. Or at least understand it.
At the time, I meant it when I said I couldn’t fix myself to anything anyone. But sometimes, when I change, it’s for the better. It took a lot of convincing (mostly from myself – it’s a long story, and I’d like to tell it to you sometime, but I’m sure Kate can give you the highlights if you’d prefer it that way), but I’m here now. On Earth. For a while. It’s difficult, but I’m trying. I wanted you to hear it from me.
I hope that comes across as good news. Because I also meant it when I said it’d be you. It really should have been you, in hindsight. If you’re reading this, you’ve seen the new face, so I don’t know if that’s even an option anymore, but that’s not what I’m trying to do. I just can’t let you think that you were the problem between the two of us. Even if you never want to see me again, I needed to make sure of that.
Speaking of: I’m trying out this new thing called ‘normal human friendship’. Namely, ones that don’t involve quite as much running or exterminations. You’re top of the list, if you’re interested. There’s no pressure - it’s up to you how or even if you reply to this.
I’d like to see you. To be friends, properly. A better friend than I was before. Only if you want.
If you don’t, then that’s okay. I’m glad I got to see you one more time. I hope life is giving you everything you deserve.
Love,
A Good-Hearted Weirdo
Below the send-off was an address in London, and a phone number. A tear dropped onto the page as she got to the end of it, and she jolted a little at the sudden splash. She hadn’t realised her eyes were even watering. Despite that, she couldn’t help but smile as she looked up from the letter, back to her mother who had been patiently waiting for her.
“Are you okay?”
Yaz nodded, not sure how to put it into words. After a few seconds, she found some.
“It’s good news. She’s doing well, sounds like.” The tears were starting to pile up now, so she reached up and dragged a palm over her eyes. “I’ll figure it out.”
