Chapter Text
Yaz had quite literally just laid her head down on the pillow in her TARDIS bedroom when the Doctor burst in, not bothering to knock, not pausing before she raced to the side of the bed and tossed off the covers, pressing the switch on the wall and throwing bright light into the room. Yaz pinched her eyes closed and her mouth crimped in exasperation. She pressed her face harder into the pillow, unwilling to acknowledge the force of nature currently hovering over her.
Over the last few weeks, after their tangle with the Daleks in the storage facility, the Doctor had become increasingly manic; her zeal for adventures was bordering on desperate. Yaz had played the Doctor’s words from that night over and over in her head, trying to make sense of it. And also, if she were honest with herself, she was purposely veering away from the potential calamity of what they could mean. Time is catching up to me. Though the Doctor had grinned and blustered and refused to answer her when she asked what that meant, Yaz could see the worry lines creasing the time lord’s face. She had tried to be calm, like she was gentling a horse, but it had done nothing but seemingly make it worse. The Doctor’s mood was up, level 5,000 enthusiastic, and it was really starting to freak Yaz out.
Yaz had somewhat come to grips with her feelings for this alien woman, thanks to Dan’s soft pushing and friendship. Honestly, the man had been her one anchor point as she drifted through her uncertainty about what to say to the Doctor, and when. But she still hadn’t been able to broach the subject with the blonde, who was just now tugging on her t-shirt sleeve, trying to pull her from her very earned rest. The incident on Hageriomph-4 had lasted almost 80 hours of uninterrupted terror, and if she didn’t sleep, Yaz was fairly sure she might strangle the Doctor. So this is love, she thought.
“Yaz! You won’t believe this! I know we dropped Dan off and he’s going to be so mad he missed it, but we have to go now! Once in a millenia event! C’mon, up you get! Get a shift on!”
The Doctor released Yaz’s sleeve only to gather up her discarded clothes on the floor and toss them over her shoulder, the dirty jeans landing on Yaz’s face, as she strode back towards the door.
And Yaz, in her exhausted state, felt only one overwhelming emotion: anger. She threw her jeans back to the floor, the sound loud in the room.
“No,” she spat, turning over so she faced away from the Doctor and the door. Fuck it, she was done with this, running to appease the Doctor’s whims, or whatever demons she was fighting. If the Doctor wouldn’t open up to her, then this wasn’t going to work, on any level.
“What?” came the shocked reply from behind her. Yaz breathed through her anger and her love, blowing a long breath out. She turned back over, finding the time lord looking at her from the open door, astonished.
“Right, you heard me. Saying no. You have a bloody time and space machine, why do we need to go to this thing right now? You need to sleep, Doctor.” Yaz pulled the covers back over her shoulder in a show of defiance.
“But…but this is unmissable, Yaz! I know we could manipulate time to get to it, but it’s better if we’re there and see it in real time. It’s going to be so amazing, I promise!” Her hands lifted and flailed, trying to persuade Yaz to get up.
Yaz saw, not for the first time, that the Doctor’s hands were trembling. The skin beneath her eyes was dark and Yaz ached with the fact that she couldn’t make it better.
“Doctor. You’re wiped out. We can’t keep going like this. Why can’t you sleep? I know you do - not like it’s a weird Gallifreyan no-sleep policy.” She willed the tears away as the Doctor’s brow furrowed.
“I’m fine! Seriously! This is something you’re not gonna want to pass up. I haven’t even seen it!” The Doctor started to swing the door open to leave, obviously trusting that Yaz would get up and follow. Yaz drew in a deep breath.
“I think you should take me home,” Yaz said, finally sitting up in her bed, the covers falling away.
The Doctor went rigid in the doorway and she slowly peered over her shoulder, the smudge under her eyes even more apparent. Yaz’s stomach clenched. How was she supposed to help this woman who had completely captured her heart, but was so unwilling to let her in?
“You want to go home?” The time lord muttered mournfully, her chin tucking into her neck. Her blonde hair fell forward, partially shielding her face from Yaz.
“I don’t want to, but I don’t want to keep traveling with you like this either. You need sleep. You look like you’re haunted and I don’t know how to help!” She tossed up her hands. “I need sleep, desperately, and you’re keeping me up for days at a time. I know that’s not entirely your fault, but it’s happened nonetheless, so I need to rest. You need to rest, despite all you’re swaggering about how time lords don’t need sleep. I call bullshit, by the way.”
The Doctor’s face crumpled in on itself and Yaz struggled not to back off from her ultimatum, but she had to see it through.
“I need at least ten hours of sleep at this point, maybe more. So do you. And again, don’t give me any nonsense about Gallifreyans needing less sleep. I don’t bloody care at this point. Either sleep, or take me home right now.” She lifted her face stubbornly, tucking her own shaking hands between her thighs so the Doctor wouldn’t see. The woman sighed.
“Ok. Yeah. You’re right. I do need to sleep. I’ll leave you and head to my room and…” the Doctor trailed off and shrugged her shoulders, her fingers picking at the door jam. She started to step through the door and grabbed the knob to close it behind her, but Yaz stopped her.
“Uh-uh, no sir. I know how this goes. You’re going to tell me you’re going to go sleep and then you’ll just end up sitting under the console rewiring summat that absolutely does not need to be rewired.” Yaz’s anger was giving way. She could turn this to a good outcome, she knew it. Never let anyone say that Yasmin Khan wasn’t determined.
“You’re staying with me, here, and we’re both sleeping, or you're taking me back to Sheffield. That’s the deal. Minimum of eight hours,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
The Doctor gaped at her. “I can’t sleep for eight hours! That’s so much! Unheard of! Not to mention, the pressure of you telling me to sleep eight hours is going to adversely affect my ability to sleep even one hour, and I’ll just be lying there going absolutely mad.”
Despite her protestations, the Doctor had drifted back to the side of the bed, and Yaz inwardly allowed herself a small moment of hope. She grabbed the Doctor’s hand - something they didn’t do often, so she hoped it held the weight she wanted it to. She looked up at the Doctor, biting her lip against her worry.
“Please. We need this. I need this. Can’t go on as we have done.” She said, squeezing the time lord’s hand. She could've been talking about the other thing between them.
The Doctor sighed again, the energy leaching out of her.
“I can’t promise I’ll be able to. But I’ll try, Yaz.” She started to lie down next to Yaz and Yaz had to hold up a hand.
“You think you’re sleeping in that?” She gestured up and down the Doctor’s figure, her eyebrow raised in disbelief.
“Yes?” The Doctor held out her arms in a why-wouldn’t-I gesture.
“Starting to figure out why you can’t sleep,” Yaz tossed off, and the Doctor’s frown deepened. Yaz relented in her teasing.
“I just mean that you’re going to be very uncomfortable if you’re trying to sleep with all of that on.” She waved a hand again at the Doctor, who was in her full get-up of coat, braces, boots, trousers, the whole lot. The Doctor just looked perplexed.
“I have something you can borrow,” Yaz said. She shifted out of bed and moved to the bureau, rummaging through a drawer and fishing out her second favorite pair of pajamas. As she turned back to the Doctor she caught the woman staring at her bare legs. She had been so exhausted when they returned that she’d shucked out of everything and had pulled on new pants and a soft, big t-shirt that dropped to the tops of her thighs. She’d forgotten what she was wearing. And by the look on the Doctor’s face, she realized that as she’d bent to retrieve the pajamas, she must’ve given the blonde a very good view of her underwear. A quick flush rose to her face, and she said a silent prayer to the gods that the cuter pair had been at the top of the drawer when she’d changed.
The Doctor took the offered clothes, but made no other move.
“Well? Go on.” The Doctor stared at the fabric in her hand, a curiously lost look on her face. Yaz heaved a sigh. “I’m not gonna have to help you, am I?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest again.
The Doctor didn’t answer, but dropped the pajamas on the bed and bent to untie her boots. She paused and looked up at Yaz.
“You planning on watching me, Yaz?” she said, holding her gaze. The Doctor’s tone was laced with an undercurrent of what sounded like nothing so much as an invitation. Yaz swallowed heavily, realizing that the Doctor was right at eye level with her crotch. She spun around to face the other way, a fresh burning warming her cheeks.
After a few moments of rustling, the Doctor tapped Yaz on the shoulder. She turned and straightened up, surprised by how close the other woman was to her. Her eyes darted down, and she was satisfied that the Doctor had changed into the light blue button-down pajama set. The top was lower cut than Yaz had ever seen on the Doctor, and she fought to keep from licking her lips.
She had to hide her amusement and turn away when the Doctor’s jaw opened in a surprised yawn.
Yaz slipped under the covers and shifted over as the Doctor muttered, “Still say I’m not tired.”
“That’s clear. Get the lights, yeah?”
The Doctor flicked the switch and clambered into bed, lying on her back. It was a small enough bed that their shoulders touched on the mattress. After a long moment, Yaz rolled onto her side so she faced the Doctor, her hand tucked under the pillow. She could barely make out the woman’s features in the near-dark, but saw the shine of her eyes and sighed again.
“You’re going to try?”
The covers rustled as the Doctor flipped onto her side, facing away from Yaz. The younger woman tried not to feel a slight at that.
“Said I would. Put the get-up on and everything.”
“Thank you. And sorry.” Yaz felt the pinch of tears again. “I didn’t know what else to do.” The Doctor didn’t respond, which made Yaz feel even worse. She sniffed quietly, willing the tears away. If the Doctor knew that Yaz was upset, she didn’t acknowledge it.
They lay there in the quiet dark for a long few minutes, Yaz fighting the tug of her own sleep to make sure the woman next to her drifted off first. But it was hard to fall asleep when it felt like she was lying next to a steel rod. She huffed in frustration.
“I don’t think you’re trying,” she whispered.
“I am!” The Doctor whispered back hoarsely. “There’s too much going on in my brain. Can’t shut it off.” After a beat, she said something so quietly, Yaz wasn’t sure if she actually heard it. “And I’ve been having nightmares.”
Yaz frowned in sympathy. She had been there. Oh, had she been there. A thought bubbled up that sent a zing of nerves through her, and she weighed her next words carefully. “Would it---would it maybe help if we had a bit of a cuddle?” She didn’t think the tremor in her voice was too obvious.
There was a long pause, and Yaz held her breath, her heart thumping rapidly, worried she’d overstepped and the Doctor would get up and be gone. And then Yaz would have to leave.
“I guess it could do. Can’t hurt to give it a go at this point.”
Yaz sagged in a relief so great she almost gasped.
“All right. I’ll just scootch closer then…” She shuffled slowly until she was just touching the Doctor’s torso, wary of getting too close, like she might spook her. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hand, and it hovered uncertainly. “Ok if I put my arm around you?” She spoke against the back of the Doctor’s neck. She smelled earthy, and warm.
“Yeah, s’fine.”
Yaz draped her arm over the Doctor’s middle, her palm resting flat on the bed. It was a little awkward and she shifted closer, until her entire front was flush with the other woman. She was acutely aware of her breasts as they pressed into the Doctor’s back. When the Doctor wiggled, trying to get comfortable, the curve of her bottom rubbed Yaz’s crotch and the younger woman had to bite back a sigh. She lifted her legs so her knees were slotted right into the Doctor’s.
They stayed that way, breathing quietly in the darkness. Yaz wanted to lean in and nuzzle the woman, push her nose into the Doctor’s hair, but she held herself still and her eyes started to get heavy.
And yet, she could feel the waves of tension rolling off the Doctor.
“Not working?” She whispered.
“Sorry, Yaz.” The Doctor sounded like a defeated child, and a light bulb went off over Yaz’s head.
“Could I try something else? Something my Nani used to do when I slept over at her house? I was awful with new places, skittish as could be. She used to lie next to me and talk me down into sleep, essentially. Worked every time.”
“Yaz. I’m willing to try whatever you like if it means you’ll stay.” She clutched Yaz’s hand and pulled it up to her chest, nestling it against her, just under her chin, and covered it with her own. Yaz swallowed and squeezed her instinctually, needing to reassure the woman. She couldn’t tell her she wasn’t going anywhere, couldn’t go back on her word. But she’d get the Doctor to sleep if she had to conk her on the head to do it. That image almost pulled a laugh from her throat, but she tamped it down and pulled the Doctor even closer. Her mouth was almost against the Doctor’s ear, and she drew in a long breath before she began.
“I want you to close your eyes if they aren’t already.” She paused, and when the Doctor didn’t speak, she assumed the order had been followed. She kept her voice low and soft, just at a whisper.
“Take a breath in for me and let it out slowly.” The Doctor did as she was bid, Yaz feeling her chest rise through the hand pinned there. She tried not to think about how her arm was threaded between the Doctor’s breasts - she could feel their softness through the pajama fabric.
“I want you to picture yourself walking through shaded woods. You’re taking your time, nowhere special to be, just---”
“Are you there too?” The Doctor interrupted.
Yaz smiled into the blonde hair. “If you want me to be, I’m there. Walking just beside you. Now hush. Take another deep breath in and out.” The Doctor nodded and breathed. Yaz could still feel the hard tension in her shoulders.
“We step into a small clearing, soft grass covering the forest floor. It’s only a little brighter in the glade. The sun dapples the leaves, but the light doesn’t quite reach the ground. There’s a little river in the clearing, the water dark and deep. Another breath.” She whispered into the Doctor’s ear, and she felt the Doctor swallow through her own knuckles, tucked under the Doctor’s chin. And she breathed out.
“That’s good.” At the praise, the Doctor hummed in the back of her throat, quietly. Yaz blew out gently, sending a soft stream of air across the Doctor’s neck, and she felt some of the rigidity in the woman’s arms leech away.
“We decide to take our shoes off and lie just at the edge of the river, so our tired feet can rest in the water. We’re lying just as we are now, me holding you. The grass is softer than we ever thought. Warm. Our toes touch the water and it’s so nice. Pleasant and cool, slow-moving, little riffles tugging at our toes. Breathe.” The Doctor’s breath was slower this time. Her bare feet twitched against Yaz's shins. Yaz smiled sleepily, her own words working even on herself.
“With each breath in the clearing, you and I let all our worries, all our tension slip down our bodies, and the…river pulls them away through our toes, floating downstream, never to be seen again. Everything is drifting away, swirling and…and eddying, leaving us calm and drowsy, on the…on the riverbank. Breathe.” In her exhaustion, Yaz’s body relaxed into the Doctor, and her mouth skimmed the Doctor’s neck. If she had been more awake, she would’ve thrilled at the touch. But she was having trouble staying coherent. What’s more, the stress writ through the Doctor’s body had melted away, and her breathing was even and deep.
“Breathe,” she whispered one more time, her mouth moving over the Doctor’s neck, and then she was fast asleep.
******************************************
She swam up from her slumber when the Doctor started shuddering in her arms. Yaz blinked blearily in the darkness. The Doctor gripped her hand hard where it was pressed against her, and the woman moaned piteously.
“No, you can’t. I won’t. I won’t let you. You…no. No!” She mumbled, and her legs jerked suddenly against Yaz. She gasped and let out a sob that tore at Yaz’s heart.
Yaz sat up slightly, as much as the Doctor’s clutch would allow, and slipped her other hand from beneath the pillow. She stroked the Doctor’s hair just over her ear. Lowering her mouth to the Doctor’s ear, she whispered, only as loud as she dared.
“Doctor.” The time lord groaned and sent another mumbled entreaty to whatever nightmare she was in the throes of.
“Doctor,” she tried again. “It’s Yaz. You’re with me, right now, on our riverbank, in the clearing. Wherever you think you are now, it’s not real. Come back to me.” She kept the pressure of her strokes over the Doctor’s head heavy and slow, knowing the weight could work wonders, remembering her Nani doing just that.
The Doctor shuddered, but quieted bit by bit. Yaz whispered to her, telling her she had her toes in the cool water, and everything was ok. Finally the Doctor let out a long sigh and then slid into a quiet snore.
Yaz laughed softly, and settled back into the mattress.
*********************************************
She awoke in the gentle dawn, the TARDIS clued into her circadian rhythms, giving her the artificial turn of the sun through a fake window. The “blinds” were drawn, so only a small line of light snuck into the room. She breathed out happily. Her body felt rested and content. The Doctor was still under her arm - apparently they hadn’t even moved throughout the night, after the Doctor’s short disturbed peace. Yaz lifted her head and peered at the small clock on her bedside table. She smiled widely. Fourteen bloody hours. She knew it, and allowed herself a small measure of smugness. Couldn’t sleep this long, my arse, she thought.
She snuck a look at the Doctor’s face, and stifled a giggle. The woman’s mouth was hanging open, and she breathed out slowly and easily. There might have been a bit of drool on the pillow.
Yaz knew the Doctor would never forgive her if she delayed in waking her up, so she squeezed the arm under the Doctor’s. She let her thumb swipe back and forth over the hollow at the Doctor’s throat, which earned a sleepy hum from the blonde. When that didn’t get a further response, she leaned down and spoke low into the Doctor’s hair.
“Doctor. Time to wake up.” The Doctor stirred and grumbled. The sound made Yaz’s heart leap. The woman cracked one eye and it slid up to Yaz, who smiled sunnily.
“Well, looks like you did it.” Yaz continued. The Doctor still hadn’t let go of her arm. Indeed she had rolled slightly onto her stomach, pinning the hand under her. Yaz laughed lightly.
“I’m gonna need my hand back eventually.”
“Time is it?” The Doctor croaked.
“What is time, really, when you think about it,” Yaz said, and the Doctor groaned. “We slept a good long time, that’s all you need to know.” The Doctor finally rolled over, releasing Yaz’s hand back to her. Yaz flexed her fingers - they’d grown stiff over the course of the night.
The Doctor stared up at Yaz, blinking slowly. She licked her lips, smacking them together, and Yaz suddenly had the wild urge to kiss her. She shook her head lightly and fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The Doctor lifted onto one elbow, and she regarded Yaz thoughtfully. Her hair was mussed from sleep, and the top button of her pajama shirt had come undone. The pale expanse of skin there sent a spike of desire through her, straight to her core.
“That was something else, Yaz. What you did last night. I’d never have thought it would work on me.” She said in disbelief. “You say your Nani would do that?” The corners of her mouth turned down in thought. Oh gods do I want to kiss her, Yaz thought. Her hands fisted underneath the covers.
“Yeah. Good, right?”
“Did I, uh, did I have a bad dream? I feel like something happened, but I can’t remember.” She trailed off, her brow furrowing.
“You did. All the thrashing woke me up and I talked you back down.”
“You told me I was back in the clearing. With you.” She was looking down at Yaz in a way that made Yaz blush under the scrutiny. She squirmed and stretched her arms theatrically to cover her fluster.
“Yep,” she said, a yawn gripping her suddenly. “Phew, I really needed that.” She covered the Doctor’s hand where it laid on the bed. “Sorry,” she said.
“You were right, Yaz, as always.” The Doctor grinned at her. She plucked at the duvet with her free hand. “So…now can I take you to that thing I wanted to show you?”
“If you let me and you eat something first, you can.” She sat up and tilted her neck, moving the muscles there.
“What if we brought food with us?” The Doctor was looking at her with wide eyes, entreating her. Pleading.
Yaz laughed and heaved a big sigh. “How can I say no to you?” She smiled, even while inwardly smacking herself upside the head, because she had said no, very adamantly, not less than fourteen hours ago. The Doctor turned her hand over on the mattress, lacing her fingers with Yaz’s.
“This is going to be awesome, Yasmin Khan.”