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only star I see tonight

Summary:

The Doctor and Yaz spend the night in an abandoned house, ready to save the day in the morning. But something's not quite right with the constellations in the glow-in-the-dark stars...

Notes:

Day 7 - Free Day

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

            “Yaz.”

            …

            “Yaz, are you awake?”

            …

            “C’mon, Yaz, I know you’re awake.”

            “Mmmm.”

            “See, I knew it, there you are.”

            “M’not. Sleeping.”

            “Can’t talk to me and sleep at the same time, Yaz. Not how it works. Unless you’re talking in your sleep? Are you dreaming? Is it a good one? Am I in it? Have I got an extra head? That’d be proper weird, wouldn’t it—”

            “Doctor.”

            “Yes, Yaz?”

            “…how did you know I wasn’t asleep?”

            “I know how your breathing sounds when you’re really asleep. It’s peaceful. Not all tense. You were tense.”

            …

            “Were that a weird thing to say?”

            …

            “…right, probably weird. Sorry. Just thought I’d—anyway, never mind me, go back to sleep.”

            “You’re right.”

            “What was that?”

            “I wasn’t asleep.”

            “No, the other thing. Where you said I was right.”

            “Shut up, bighead. What did you want to tell me?”

            …

            “Doctor?”

            “It’s silly.”

            “You woke me up, and now you won’t tell me what for?”

            “You weren’t asleep, Yaz, we’ve discussed this.”

            “Doctor—”

            “There’s stars on the ceiling.”

            “…I… yeah, sure. Glow-in-the-dark stars, pretty common for a kid’s bedroom.”

            “Can you see them?”

            “Not really. Top bunk’s in the way. Sort of how bunk beds work.”

            “That’s why you should always take the top bunk!”

            “S’all right, you were so keen on it. S’fine down here.”

            “Very nice of you, Yaz. Always good to be on top of you!”

            …

            “You all right, Yaz? That were a weird nose you just made—”

            “I—it’s fine. M’fine. What about the stars?”

            “Yaz—”

            “The stars, Doctor.”

            “It’s—well. The constellations are wrong.”

            …

            “You woke me up to tell me the stars on some kid’s bedroom ceiling aren’t scientifically accurate?”

            …

            “I did say it was silly.”

            …

            “Also. You weren’t really asleep.”

            …

            “The kid who used to live here probably just thought they looked nice, like this.”

            “Mmmm, I s’pose.”

            “Doctor.”

            “Yes, Yaz?”

            “You really should try and get some sleep.”

            “Sleep is so boring, though, Yaz. Not like bunk beds. Or glow-in-the-dark stars.”

            “Well I need sleep. And there’s nothing we can do about the runaway creatures until the morning. We’ve got a good lookout spot from here. We just need to rest up till then, all right?”

            …

            “Doctor?”

            “Yes, I know, very sensible of you, Yasmin Khan.”

            “Good.”

            …

            “…the stars are still wrong, though.”

            “Hmm. Good night, Doctor.”

            …

            …

            …

            “Doctor, what—oh my God what are you doing? Don’t lean over the edge like that!”

            “I’m just—fixing the stars, Yaz. Don’t mind me, go back to sleep.”

            “Don’t mind—you’re gonna tip the bed over and break your neck, I very much mind!”

            “C’mon, Yaz, I’m not gonna—whoaaaa!”

            “Doctor!”

            “It’s fine! Everything’s fine, didn’t tip over—Yaz, what’re you—”

            “Since you can’t be trusted up here by yourself—”

            “Mmmph—Yaz, you didn’t have to actually tackle me—”

            “Seems like I did, if either of us are going to get any sleep.”

            “Hmmph.”

            “Please don’t try to kill yourself rearranging ceiling stars.”

            “I wouldn’t have died—”

            “Well, try not to give me a heart attack, then.”

            “…right. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

            “Thank you.”

            …

            …

            …

            “Yaz?”

            “Mmmm?”

            “You… you’re really nice an’ warm.”

            “Oh.”

            “And you smell nice.”

            “Oh. I—thanks. I think.”

            …

            …

            “Cuddles with Yaz—”

            “—amazin’?”

            “Oi, that’s my line, Yasmin Khan.”

            “You didn’t have to nearly tip the bed over just to get me to hug you, Doctor. You could just ask.”

            “…oh.”

            “Now go to sleep. My pillow keeps movin’.”

            “You’ve got your head on my shoulder.”

            “Exactly. Now shhh.”

            “Oh.”

            …

            “I didn’t—as nice as this is, Yaz, I really did want to fix the stars—”

            “Doctor. Most kids don’t really know much about constellations. Whoever lived here clearly didn’t care.”

            “Well I do. Look, there, the Zither has eight stars, not five—”

            “Doctor.”

            “Sorry.”

            “…if the Zither has eight stars, why do you think it’s that one?”

            “It’s—well it’s sort of the right shape, and it’s the most common constellation in this quadrant of the universe, and if you just take those couple of ones over there and scootch them in—they’re stuck on, though. Didn’t want to scootch.”

            “Stickers are usually meant to stay stuck on, you know.”

“It’s just… it’s a really squashed Zither, Yaz. It doesn’t make sense.”

            “Not sure I see where you’re getting that…”

            “And constellations do move over time but over thousands of years, your Big Dipper’s going to flatten out eventually, and whoever used to live here didn’t leave that long ago, unless something’s a lot more wrong here than I thought—”

            “I think it’s a crown.”

            “What?”

            “I think they made up their own constellations, rather than real ones. Looks like a crown, see? Just there?”

            …

            “Mmmm, I suppose… if you squint a bit…”

            “Isn’t that what constellations are, though? People squinting a bit, telling stories to each other based on what they see in the sky?”

            “That’s… slightly oversimplified. Not very scientific.”

            “People usually aren’t.”

            “…’spose not.”

            …

            “I think that one might be a cat.”

            “What?”

            “You were about to complain again, so I’m making up more. That one’s a cat. See, the ears there? And the tail?”

            “…yeah, I think I see it.”

            “Well, the cat’s trying to chase after the crown. But it can’t quite reach it.”

            “Why does the cat want a crown?”

            “I dunno. Why do you think?”

            “…I… hmmm… can I think about it?”

            “Sure, Doctor.”

            …

            …

            …

            “That one looks like a heart.”

            …

            “…yeah, it does…”

            …

            …

            …

            …

             “Yaz?”

            “Mmm?”

            “…I’m sorry.”

            “…what for?”

            “I…”

            …

            …

            “… a lot of things, I suppose.”

            …

            “…Doctor, are you okay?”

            “’Course I am. I’m always all right.”

            “You sure?”

            “Mmmhmm.”  

            …

            …

            “…I’ve got an idea.”

            “About?”

            “The cat.”

            “Yeah? Go on, then.”

            “A long time ago, before you or I or anyone can remember—”

            “—not once upon a time?”

            “Shhh, Yaz, I’m telling the story.”

            “Okay, okay, sorry, continue.

            “Thank you. Yes, a long time ago, there was a young royal. She was silly and loud and reckless sometimes, like other children. And she was curious, even more than the other children. And one day, her curiosity led her somewhere she shouldn’t have gone. And she was cursed. Her crown was stolen, and she was transformed.”

            “Into a cat?”

            “Gold star for you, Yaz.”

            “Curiosity and cats…”

            “She…”

            …

            …

            “Doctor?”

            “She liked being a cat. She could still be silly, and curious, and clever. She could still run and jump and play. But she couldn’t remember what it was like, to be a person. She couldn’t remember her crown, or the things she had done, or the people she’d cared about. She knew something was missing, though. So she keeps searching. Reaching out for her crown. Chasing it through the stars. Maybe if she finds it, she’ll remember. Maybe…”

            …

            …

            “…I hope she finds it, if she wants to.”

            “…yeah. Me too.”

            …

            …

            …

            “Yaz?”

            “Mmmm?”

            “I wasn’t… actually talking about cats…”

            “I thought not.”

            “I… Yaz, I…”

            “Come here, Doctor… it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

            …

            …

            …

            “Doctor?”

            “Mmm?”

            “When we get home—”

            “Back to Sheffield?”

            “Back to the TARDIS.”

            “…oh.”

            “I’m going to find you a whole pack of star stickers. You can put them up in the right constellations.”

            “Oh.”

            “However you want.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            “…think we could add the cat though?”

            “’Course we can. We can do anything you want.”

            …

            …

            …

            “Yaz?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Thank you.”

            “Always.”

            “I… Yaz?”

            “Yes?”

            “Stay with me?”

            “Forever.”

            “…oh.”

            “C’mere.”

            “Mmmm.”

            “Get some sleep, Doctor.”

            “Mmmm.”

            …

            …

            …

            …

            “Yaz?”

            “That’s not sleeping.”

            “One more question.”

            “All right.”

            “If I… if we can do anything I want…”

            “Yeah?”

            “…can I kiss you?”

            …

            …

            …

            “I’m sorry, I—”

            “Yes.”

            “I—what?”

            “Yes. You can.”

            “I can?”

            “Please.”

            …

            …

            …

            …

            …

            …

            …

            …

            “Oh, brilliant.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Definitely.”

            “…good.”

            …

            “Now, Doctor?”

            “Mmmmm?”

            “Go to sleep.”

            “Oh fine. But—Yaz?”

            “Mmmm?”

            “Kiss me good night?”

            “Always.”

           

             

Notes:

How have we reached the end of Thasmin week already?! This has been such fun, reading everyone's stories, and thank you for all your kind comments on mine! I hope you enjoyed this one as well, and have a great week, friends!

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