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The Doctor had promised Charley an adventure.
Not her Doctor- there was no flurry of chestnut curls and green velvet bounding into the dimly lit console room- but this new-old Doctor, striding into the warm white space, hands on his hips, announcing that he had decided upon the perfect place to take them. An alien planet covered in rainbow sands, a wonderful place to hike up into the purple mountains and admire the view.
Charley had been in the console room for hours, curled up in one of the chairs that seemed to materialise whenever she thought about sitting down, engrossed in a book. It must have been originally written in an alien language- the protagonist, at least, was clearly not human based on the description- but like everything on the TARDIS, she could read it as if it were English. It was a simple collection of short stories, about a traveller visiting distant lands and meeting new people, always being greeted as a friend. Decidedly juvenile, but comforting, like the books she would devour as a child while dreaming of running away to be an Edwardian Adventuress.
She spared a glance into the corridor the Doctor had emerged from; she hadn’t taken the time to properly explore this younger TARDIS yet. Maybe if she stayed here in the console room, she could pretend the rest of the ship was exactly the same. Through those doors, her room just as she had left it, her drawer full of men’s clothes, the unmade nest of blankets, and the little photo of her and the Doctor she kept pinned to the wall, instead of the undecorated room she had been sleeping in recently. She’d been avoiding that room. She couldn’t stop dreaming about him.
Part of her had been within the Doctor, just as a part of him was within her, and it had died with him. The hole he left was gnawing away inside her, threatening to swallow her entirely. But the Doctor was here. He was here, and she wished he wasn’t. Not that she wanted to leave- she wanted this, travelling with him. But she wished she didn’t have to look at him. She couldn’t bear how he was exactly the same, yet so different. He smiled at her through the TARDIS pillar as he punched in co-ordinates, that adventurous glint in his eye, and he might as well have punched her in the stomach.
Still, she would rather have this Doctor than no Doctor. He had an infectious energy and passion- she was sure that if she had met this one first, she would have fallen in love with him just as she had his future incarnation. She did love this Doctor, she had to, he was him, or at least would become him. But it was a different kind of love, one that twisted up her insides and made her not sure if she wanted to grab him around the waist and hold him tight or slap him across the face for having the audacity to die in the future.
The TARDIS made that familiar whooshing sound as they materialised. Exactly the same. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was his footsteps running around the other side of the console to check the scanners. If she could also pretend that he had spontaneously grown taller and broader enough to take much heavier steps. She sighed, closing her book and getting up to join him as he rushed around. He seemed to hardly notice her, back turned as he confidently hit buttons and turned dials. All bluster– he had no idea that she knew his control over the TARDIS was tenuous at best. Humming in satisfaction, unaware of her eyes trailing him, he finally pulled the lever to open the doors.
“Well then, Charlotte,” he turned on his heels to face her, his coattails swirling around him as he did so in bright blue waves, like the sea in a children’s picture book. “Shall we?” Grinning still, the crow’s feet under his eyes creasing. The same as her Doctor.
She froze, stared at him. He must have interpreted her expression as apprehension, as he reached out and took her hand in his.
It felt like icy water rushing into her body.
Charley tried to draw a breath in, but it didn’t quite reach her lungs. She had to fight against the tears she felt pricking at the corners of her eyes. The Doctor seemed to notice her stiffen, moved to pull his hand away, but she squeezed her fingers hard around his. His hand was all too familiar- cold, yet comforting- but bigger, softer. It might have been seconds or minutes before he spoke, breaking through the static that filled her entire being.
“Ahem. Are you-”
“Yes. Yes,” she managed to reply, a little too emphatically, as if she was trying to convince herself of her own lie. She gripped his hand harder. The cool skin against hers was more like a blazing fire. If the Doctor hadn’t been convinced, he didn’t say anything, but instead turned and took his other hand to ever so gently squeeze her shoulder. She felt sick. She didn’t want him close to her, not this Doctor, she wanted her Doctor back! But she couldn’t let go of his hand. They might as well have been fused together, like they had–
It didn’t matter that he was the same person. He wasn’t hers, he couldn’t understand what her Doctor had understood. She had been a part of him, but he hadn’t been a part of her yet.
He leant down a little to meet her eyes. Searching her face. She couldn’t bear the way he looked at her- she moved forward to press her forehead against his shoulder, hiding from him. It was a hug, of some description; their clasped hands were pressed up between them, and the Doctor’s other arm came around her back. Charley’s free hand grasped the lapel of his coat, knuckles gripping until they turned white.
The moment passed. She swallowed. He took a step back. She still didn’t release his hand.
Charley cleared her throat, blinking hard. She smiled up at him now, as if nothing had happened. She hoped the look in her eyes said “let’s never mention this again”.
He gave her one last long stare before smiling back and pulling her through the TARDIS doors.