Chapter Text
Yaz knew the Doctor always had nightmares.
Yaz hoped she could protect her by her side, although she wouldn’t be sure what to do, or if her hugs, body temperature, and whispers could banish the monsters and ill fates in the Doctor’s subconsciousness. She wasn’t even sure if their relationship allowed her to snuggle under the covers, to hold the Doctor close, and to gently coax her back to consciousness. After all, she had never done this sort of things to anyone.
She had never hugged the Doctor. No chance, no gut, no permission, she wasn’t sure which the answer is. She could never cross the physical boundaries mostly because the Doctor exuded a subtle aura of distance. Except when they found themselves in life-and-death situations in their space travels, they didn’t have any physical contact. The Doctor would slot herself between danger and Yaz, or hold her hand in a death grip and run for their lives until they reach safety—most of the time it’s the TARDIS, if the TARDIS had been out of option, then it would be some shelter she conjured up with a push of adrenaline and manic thoughts at desperate times. No, she wasn’t sure if the Doctor had kidneys, whether the adrenal glands would produce adrenaline when aroused. She added one task on her to-do list: go to the library on the TARDIS to look for more informations on Time Lords, and then it hit her. There’s no TARDIS now.
Now she would never have a chance to hold the Doctor.
Yaz had always known love wasn’t easy. She huffed. But the difficulty of mourning her first love proved to be a bit harder than she had expected. And she had low expectation.
She had never met anyone like the Doctor. Except the obvious reason — she wasn’t from Earth — there was another that made her exceptional: she was pretty sure she loved the Doctor. Maybe that was why she was irreplaceable.
She rubbed her eyes and slumped forward. Her forehead hit the wheel mutedly.
Nobody had ever made her feel the same. Before she knew what love looked like, she thought those silent crushes were love. Until the Doctor fell through the top of the train into her sight, took them on a round trip in space, and then back on Earth safe and sound. She never wanted to go back to her normal life. In time, they did build their new normal, a ‘sorting out fair play throughout the universe’ normal. However, she had never expected it to last her whole life. Traveling with the Doctor had taken up her old life. Letting her superior assume she was recruited in some secret operations was indeed an effortless way of counterfeiting a believable script, but the cover couldn’t help her skip the rest of the probation; her police life on Earth almost ended after the ‘seemingly on mission but actually kidnapped’ accident—although she did start to play space police with the Doctor later on—however, she had also never thought it would end the way it did. Was there anything between them? Did the Doctor look at her differently than she looked at the boys? Perhaps gentler? When in protective mode, the Doctor’s attitude towards her seemed to be firmer and more agitated. Everything was too subtle. She had to constantly remind herself it all might had been her own projection, and the Doctor’s intent required investigation. She thought they had time.
The light changed from red to green. She released the brake, and pushed the accelerator gently.
Tonight was one of the nights when the three of them meet for tea. They did this every two weeks. Sometimes it was Yaz’s mum and dad who would invite Graham and Ryan for tea, given that they were family in a way now, since Ryan and Sonya had been dating for a while. (After the first stage of awkwardness, Yaz was genuinely happy for them. And at least Sonya was dating a guy who she personally knew were reliable this time.) At first she was worried Sonya might get irritated by the fact that only them three would meet, regularly, as if they deliberately exclude her, but Sonya understood it was what the Doctor’s family needed. Yaz parked the car on the hill where Graham’s at. She pulled the handbrake and gazed outside. The navy blue night sky and the cityscape underneath her feet had not been different from the night they had met the Doctor. They were just started to investigate the whole incident of Tim Shaw. Yaz had took everyone back to Grace’s house, and the Doctor leaned by the car window, saying she needed every information on the then unknown object. Yaz didn’t dwell on it too much, but reflecting it afterwards, she knew it was the feeling she wanted: to be trusted with a task, to be contributive, and to solidly feel that she was capable of making a difference to the world.
They were the families left. They weren’t families when Grace left, and then the one who brought them all together was gone as well.
That day, in her blurry sight, she saw the answer to the question she desired to ask in the bottom of the Doctor’s eyes, but the very eyes also begged her not to ask. The Doctor seemed to be crying.
‘Live great lives.’
We will, Doctor, we will. It was just that after you left, the world was drained of the color of a rainbow.
Yaz sighed heavily. ‘Live great lives,’ the Doctor’s voice left in her mind was almost a whisper, but it was also the loudest call. It had also been the most effective spell, which she had cherish in her heart, to smother those passive thoughts in her head. Repeatedly, she retrace to those countless, wordless talks with the Doctor on the strange TARDIS. Too many ifs, but she knew the present reality she was in right now was the only possibility there could ever be.
How could she take the Doctor with her? The Doctor’s thoughts, words, and movements still occupied a great part in her heart, like she had become a part of who she was. She had thought two years would have been enough, enough to let her fade. Ko Sharmus chased from the TARDIS that day, declaring he was the person who should take the responsibility. Yaz could only stay still at where she was—probably because Graham and Ryan was there, holding her back from either side to stop her from following Ko Sharmus, shouting something like, don’t let the Doctor die for nothing next to her ears—and finally she couldn’t hold her tears. Was it possible that whatever she did wouldn’t matter anyway? Out rushed Ko Sharmus, yet the Doctor didn’t come burst into the TARDIS, back to safety in return.
It had been several years since her fragile 18th year, although sometimes, she felt she hadn’t made it as far as she thought.
She knocked. It was Ryan who answered the door, and she grinned at her old friend. Tonight was just like old time, passed between Graham’s homemade recipes and Ryan’s jokes, only she often couldn’t stay till the end lately.
‘Detective? We’ve found something.’
‘Oh? Alright, I’ll be there.’
Time goes on.