Lyssa stared at the drawing of herself for longer than she wanted to admit, the words at the bottom of the page repeating themselves endlessly in her mind.
The best day of my life.
The symbolism of the imagery, what it was supposed to represent, was incredibly obvious. She could try to explain them all away separately, but together? Even she couldn't deny that.
Her first thought was that maybe it was just a dream of John's, a really-truly dream, not a memory disguised as one. After all, it wasn't exactly hard to believe that a man as deeply in love as John would have dreams about that day, as much as she blushed to think about it.
Except... John was writing it as a memory, not as a dream. As something that had already happened.
And they weren't married.
She glanced down at the ring, resting neatly on her left ring finger, meant to represent their engagement. It obviously wasn't real - the TARDIS had included it as part of their disguise, and she'd been the one to put it on - admittedly after having to talk herself into it - but the fact was, John thought it was real.
And here he'd drawn it on her other hand, on a finger that had no meaning, as far as she was aware. She could see hints of a band on her left ring finger, but that hand was mostly covered up by the flowers, leaving only the faintest glimpse that there was something there.
And now that she was looking closer, she could see other signs that things didn't quite match up. Her hairstyle looked a tad modern for the tastes of 1913, as did the glimpses of her dress, though admittedly she couldn't see much of either. And her necklace... John had never seen her necklace - it definitely didn't fit the time period, and she kept it tucked neatly beneath her blouse, had since they'd arrived here.
So what did that mean? That the Doctor's memories of her mixed with John's dreams to create this? Although that didn't explain the ring. She'd never worn the ring before this adventure, and certainly not on any other finger, given its part to play in her subterfuge. So... perhaps memories of an older her?
Although that meant that someday she would be looking like that - and looking like that at the Doctor.
Unbidden, her mind pulled up the memories of his explanation of how John would see their relationship - that he would remember her, she'd be written into his memories as a significant part of his life, though he wasn't sure who she'd be to him. That they'd have a similar relationship to what they already had.
She'd thought he meant close friends.
What if he'd meant something different?
She already knew he and River would never be a thing - they'd both made that quite clear back with the Pandorica. And while Rose had never said anything either way, her relationship with Ten was different than it had been on the show - less... flirty and more platonic, including her goodbye after Doomsday. The Doctor had never really been serious about anyone else, that she could recall, at least in the episodes she'd seen - humans were too short lived for him to want to risk hurting himself like that.
Except... she would live longer than humans - she'd seen multiple hints of that, and the Doctor himself had confirmed it. She didn't know how long, but she knew she'd likely live a lot longer than was natural. His 9th-12th regenerations all knew her well, and she hadn't seen any signs that she wouldn't be there for any episodes, but rather the opposite, as she'd been jumping to adventures that had never been a part of the show. And that was a span of... at least a thousand years. Not to mention that when she'd jumped to Nine just after the Time War, he'd indicated that he already knew her well enough to be despondent at her supposed death during the War.
The book fell from nerveless fingers onto the bed beside her. A thousand years - she was barely into her twenties, and now she possibly had centuries ahead of her, if not longer, depending on how long she'd known the Doctor before the Time War - and hadn't that lasted several centuries all on its own? She huffed out a faint laugh, sounding only slightly hysterical.
"I guess I really will have time to get used to all this," she muttered. "A thousand years..." She shook her head and blew out a long breath. It wouldn't do her any good to get distressed about a subject where she had more questions than answers - better to just ask the Doctor the next time she saw him, the normal him. And besides - she had a much better topic to panic about, she acknowledged ruefully as her attention fell back on the drawing next to her.
Still, it would be for the best to jot her realizations down in case she forgot, and so she got up and grabbed her journal before sitting down again, flipping to the next entry and hastily scribbling a note about it, along with a reminder to talk to the Doctor about her presumed new life span at some point. She moved to put it back in her dresser, only for a loose page to slip out and fall to the floor as the book got jostled.
A little wary of what she might find, she flipped it over only to discover it was the recap of her conversation with Vina back when she'd been with Twelve and Bria. The one where Vina had told her it was okay that she maybe, possibly, slightly had feelings for the Doctor.
Her eyes slid back over to the drawing that had started the whole fuss. She was pretty sure it wasn't actually a wedding dress her possible-future self was wearing in the memories John had seen, just a dress she'd wear at some point that the Doctor would see and remember, paired with the lacy veil she'd wear if she and John were getting married in his dream.
But that still left her with more questions than answers.
John wrote it as if their wedding day had already happened, except she and John weren't married, and neither were she and the Doctor - he wore a ring, yes, but it was some sort of memory ring, a reminder of a promise he'd made at some point long ago. Given that John would absolutely make human assumptions about it, the TARDIS or the Doctor had likely activated the perception filter on it so even he wouldn't notice it.
So what had happened to give the Doctor/John these memories? Some sort of special occasion, obviously, given that she'd apparently dressed up. Special enough to make both John and the Doctor consider it the best day of their lives.
But what did a Time Lord and a human from the early 1900s have in common?
A traumatizing past, loss of their entire family and home, and... her.
They both considered her a significant part of their lives, to the point that the Doctor admitted to committing some of what he considered his worst mistakes when he'd thought she was dead.
So if neither of them were married, but something involving her made it the best day of their lives, what was it? John had never believed her to be dead, so it couldn't have been the Doctor finding out she was alive; plus she hadn't been looking like that when she met Nine. She didn't remember what she'd been wearing, but it definitely hadn't been that nice.
Unless... she glanced down at the ring on her finger, gently touching the little stones embedded in the metal. The Doctor had said they'd have a similar relationship, not identical. She considered the Doctor her best friend, closer than any relationship she'd ever had back in the old universe. And yet, she and John didn't have that relationship - she could still remember reading the bio Mr. E had provided and discovering that apparently they'd been engaged for several months at that point, and were planning to get married in the following spring.
And what was similar to engagement but not yet married? More than friendship, less than dating?
Well, it could've been that awkward stage where they both know they like each other but aren't doing anything about it yet, but somehow she didn't think that would've been considered the best day of the Doctor's life.
It felt strange just thinking about it - almost presumptive, but if she - or rather some future version of her - and the Doctor were maybe, possibly, together before all this... it did make some sort of sense, much as she struggled to admit it. She didn't know much of the finer details of the time period, but she did know that courtship was taken a lot more seriously, and a lot of John's... friendlier... actions would likely only be considered socially acceptable if they were engaged or married.
But that meant... that the Doctor...
Okay, nope, that felt like a leap she wasn't quite ready to make yet. At least, not on her own. Who's to say she wasn't misinterpreting somehow? But who could she talk to? Vina had only met the Doctor once. Her cellphone still only had Jack and James' numbers programmed into it, and not only would neither of them work, her cellphone had turned off when the TARDIS did.
And that left... Martha.
AKA the person who'd been teasing her about John's affection for her for the last two months.
She sighed, glancing down at the journal in her hands. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
xXx
She definitely felt a pang of regret as she watched Martha make muffled sounds into her pillow - she wasn't sure if they were hysterical laughs, sobs of frustration, or just groans of pain, but they definitely didn't sound like happy sounds.
"Are... are you all right?" she asked cautiously.
Martha uttered what sounded like one last scream before pulling it away from her face and sitting up with a perfectly impassive face. "Sorry, just had to get that out of my system," she said calmly. "Please, continue."
"Okay..." she said uncertainly, shifting in her spot on the bed by the other girl. "Uh, well, I just... I didn't want to be too presumptive, you know?"
"You're not being presumptive in the least, if anything it's the opposite, but carry on," Martha informed her airily.
Lyssa eyed her. "Right. Anyway, I was hoping for an outside perspective -"
"On whether or not the Doctor is in love with you ?" Martha interrupted with a snort. "Yeah, I might be able to offer some helpful information."
"I didn't say love!" Lyssa squeaked, cheeks flaring. "I said I was wondering if maybe the Doctor saw me as more than a friend!" she emphasized.
"That's not what you said, but carry on."
Lyssa sighed. "Anyway, this is the drawing that started it all," she said, handing the journal over to the other girl. "It accidentally fell open to that page and I saw it when I went to pick it up. Best not flip to other pages, though - there's bound to be some more spoilers there."
"Probably more of a concern for you than for me, but he didn't ask me to look at it so I won't go prying," Martha assured her seriously as she picked up the book. She glanced down at the page and immediately had to fight back a smile. "Ah. Yes, I can see why this might cause problems for you," she conceded. "It does have the look of 'more than a friend', doesn't it? Both artist and the subject."
Lyssa buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Why do I do this to myself?"
"Because you need someone to tell you the hard truths you refuse to admit to yourself?" the other girl suggested unsympathetically.
Lyssa shot her a dirty look. "It feels like I'd be making some pretty presumptive leaps if I just assumed he was deeply in love with me with no evidence. I'm asking you for an objective perspective, because I'm obviously biased."
Martha sighed, expression sobering. "Look. Obviously, there's potential for spoilers here either way, so I'm not going to bring up anything I've seen. Instead, why don't you take a look at how he treats you."
Lyssa frowned. "How he treats me?"
Martha nodded. "Does he treat you like he treats everyone else?"
"Well, no," Lyssa blinked. "He's known me for... who knows how long on his side, and I know he considers me to be his best friend. He's trusted me with things that I don't think he's ever told anyone else. He lets down his guard around me." She paused. "Well, about most things," she amended. "Obviously there are spoilers, and the like. But... overall, he... definitely treats me differently."
"You consider each other best friends," Martha repeated thoughtfully. "Do most people you know treat their best friends like he treats you?"
"I didn't have many close friends growing up, but from what I saw in books and stuff, people are supposed to trust their best friends, right?" she shrugged. "But..." She paused, cheeks flushing. "He's a lot more... physically affectionate with me than most people I've seen."
"Affectionate how?" Martha raised an eyebrow.
Lyssa shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding the other girl's gaze. "He's kissed me on the cheek a couple times, or the forehead. He kissed me on the nose once," she added, unable to stop a giggle at the memory. "Um, he likes to hug me a lot, or hold my hand if we're in a difficult situation."
Martha pressed her lips together so hard they turned white for a moment when she released them. "Okay. Let's try a different route. What would you think if you saw someone treating another person the way he treats you? Kisses on the cheek, holding hands, all that. What would you think? Just friends? Or maybe something more?" she prompted in a tone of great patience.
Lyssa shrunk in on herself. "I've... never actually thought about it that way," she admitted sheepishly. But looking back... he'd held her closer than he'd held Clara when they went dancing at the ball, and he'd done the same on several other occasions. Not to mention that even though they'd had a proper adventure that day, he'd still taken her out for a special night out after, dancing barefoot through the air and creating streams of light around them that turned into the northern lights.
And a guy taking a girl to see the northern lights and dance under the stars...
"Martha," she whispered, eyes wide. "I think... He doesn't...." She shook her head, completely flustered and struggling to find words. "I don't think he sees me as just a friend."
"Wow. Did it hurt you to say that?"
"Martha!"
"All right, all right, I'm sorry," the other girl laughed, sounding completely unapologetic before she softened. "Really, though. Without giving away any spoilers, I can truthfully say that the Doctor cares about you more than anyone else I've seen. His eyes always turn to you first in any situation, he's always paying at least a little bit of attention to you. Your opinion matters more to him than anyone else's. And honestly... the way John treats you isn't that different from how I've seen the Doctor treat you."
Lyssa blushed, nervously fiddling with her hands. She couldn't exactly disagree with that. Most of what John did, she was already used to from the Doctor, just with a more... intimate feel to it. Well, aside from John's almost-kisses that she was fairly certain he so often did purely to fluster her.
"Okay." She took a deep breath. "But... why me? Why do I matter so much to him? I'm just... me, not anyone special."
"Lyssa..." Martha reached out and rested a hand atop hers, squeezing it gently. "First of all, everyone has worth. Anyone who says otherwise is lying, and their opinion should immediately be discounted. Second of all, we don't get to choose how much someone values us, just how much we value them."
"The Doctor said the same thing. And on some level, I get it," Lyssa admitted. "But... I spent years with my mother constantly telling me of my many flaws. Years of never being good enough for her to love. If my own mother couldn't love me, how could anyone else?" She sighed. "And I know my mother was flawed. That... a lot of what she said and did was wrong. But it's still hard to erase over a decade of being told otherwise."
"You don't have to have it all figured out now," Martha told her with a gentle smile. "As much as I like to tease you, you don't have to do anything about it. The Doctor certainly won't force you into anything you don't want."
"That's just it," Lyssa said sheepishly. "I don't think I can honestly say that I don't want it. It's... nice, feeling valued. Feeling safe." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I've never had anyone else make me feel that way. I just... don't know what I'm doing?"
Martha laughed. "I don't think any of us know what we're doing when it comes to relationships, not really. And it's an entirely different ballpark when the other half of the equation is a thousand year old alien. You gotta do what works for you."
"I suppose," Lyssa sighed. "Not like I can do anything about it right now anyway, what with the Doctor being both amnesiac and a different species."
"No, but you can get the panicking out of the way now," Martha reminded her with a grin.
"True enough," Lyssa smiled weakly. "I really don't know what I'm going to do, or what's going to happen... I suppose I'll just have to wait and see what happens when this whole thing's over with." She gathered John's journal and stood to go, pausing in the doorway. "Thanks for talking with me, Martha," she said with a grateful smile.
"Anytime," the other girl told her. "And Lyssa," she called as Lyssa turned to go, waiting until she turned to look at her. "Talk to him. Really, truly, talk to him, once this is all over."
Lyssa glanced down, eyes catching on the ring on her finger, then returned her gaze to Martha. "I will," she promised, feeling the weight of it settling heavily in her chest. "When all this is over, I'll talk to him."
xXx
"Are you sure you're warm enough, love?" John asked, looking down at her in concern as they left the town square. "It's quite chilly out this evening."
"I'm fine, John, I promise," she smiled. "I'm thoroughly bundled up, I assure you. And it's really not that chilly out. I've certainly endured worse winters."
"Yes, but that was before you got sick. You're still recovering," he fussed, tucking her gloved hand through his arm. "Not to mention, you come from the southern states - it rarely gets very cold down there."
"As opposed to here, where it hasn't snowed in well over a year?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow but indulging him anyway. "Yes, I fear I shall freeze to death this very night. If only there were several people very concerned with my welfare and making sure I'm properly looked after - oh, wait."
He sniffed. "Forgive me for being properly concerned about my betrothed."
"Very well, you're forgiven - but only this once," she said magnanimously. "Oh, look, there's Martha!" she changed the subject when she saw the girl standing outside the village pub next to Jenny, two pints of ale in hand. She was staring up at the sky, expression tight, and Lyssa bit her lip.
"Well, she doesn't look very happy," John observed. "Perhaps she's worried about you, too."
"Ah, yes, that's why she's staring up at the sky," Lyssa remarked drily. "She hasn't even noticed either of us are here." Honestly. She'd thought John had been protective before, but ever since that incident in the woods a few weeks back, he'd become incredibly overprotective - anytime she wanted to go outside, he was right there with her, seeming to have some sort of sixth sense that told him where she was at any given time. She'd have complained, if she didn't have the strangest feeling that the TARDIS was involved in this somehow. Not to mention he never tried to control where she went, only insisted that she not go alone.
"Looks like Martha's not the only one distressed tonight," John remarked in surprise as Matron Redfern approached the pub at a very near run, stopping near Martha who turned to her with concern. "Best find out what's going on."
"In the woods..." the matron was saying breathlessly as they approached. "This light!"
"Anything wrong, ladies?" John called out. "Far too cold to be standing around in the dark, don't you -"
"There!" the matron interrupted him, pointing up at the sky as a bright green light flashed through the night sky like a falling star. "Look, in the sky!"
"That's beautiful," Jenny breathed with wide eyes and a smile.
Lyssa could only feel dread as she exchanged a wary glance with Martha.
"It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all," John assured them. "Commonly known as a meteorite. Nothing to worry about."
"But it came down in the woods," the matron objected.
He shook his head, still staring up at the fading trail with an odd expression on his face. "No, no no, they always look close, when actually they're miles off. Nothing left but a cinder."
"One can only hope," Lyssa muttered.
"Well, it's best we head back to the school, we've got an early morning tomorrow," John said, finally turning away from the sky. "Would you like an escort, ladies?" He turned to the three women.
Martha gave Lyssa a grim, knowing expression. "No, we're fine, but thank you."
"I shall return with you," the matron said decisively. "Meteorite or not, I am more than ready for my bed."
"Then I shall bid you goodnight," John said, tipping his hat at Martha and Jenny.
Lyssa glanced back at Martha as they left, mouthing for her to be careful. The clock was ticking faster now - the Family only had a week left to live, which meant they would be getting desperate.
And desperate people were dangerous.
xXx
"I suppose you're still not interested in showing off your skill?" the headmaster tried as John dismissed his class late one afternoon in the courtyard. "After Karmes left to attend to his mother, their skill has noticeably declined."
John gave him a cold look. "I believe I made the terms of my contract quite clear when I arrived, Headmaster. I'll not be involved in this outside of making sure my students are safe."
"But surely bringing them to your level of skill would help ensure their safety," he tried again. "I've hired a replacement marksmanship teacher, but even offering advice would be beneficial until he arrives and is ready to start."
John raised an eyebrow, posture tense. "I reached this level of skill trying to attain justice for my murdered family. Is that what you recommend for them?" he asked with a grim smile.
Lyssa, standing behind them near one of the doors with Martha and silently looking on, winced. Whenever John's 'past' was brought up, he was cold and morose for hours - exactly what they needed when the Family was on the loose.
"Ah, excuse me, sir," the headmaster's aide interrupted nervously. "But the new teacher is here with his wife. Would you like me to bring them to your office, sir?"
"Ah, yes, thank you, Jeffries," the headmaster nodded with a relieved smile, visibly grateful for the escape. "Perfect timing. I'll be there shortly to speak with him."
The aide nodded, then turned and disappeared through the doorway, likely just as grateful to get away from the tension in the air.
"I don't know why he keeps trying," Lyssa muttered under her breath to Martha as the headmaster tried to smooth over the awkward air with an unamused John. "John's never going to agree to this, and it's cruel of him to keep asking when he knows why John refuses."
"His records says he has several awards for his skill in shooting," Martha whispered back. "Having a teacher with those sort of accomplishments would probably give whatever school he teaches at excellent bragging rights. Money talks." The headmaster followed after his aid and John turned to face them, tension leaving his posture and expression weary. "Oh, dear. This looks like something he needs you for, and I need to be elsewhere. Good luck!" she offered before vanishing like the traitor she was and leaving the two of them alone in the courtyard.
"Wait, no-" Lyssa cut herself off, shoulders sagging before she sighed and turned to face John as he approached. "Hello, there," she said sympathetically, offering him a small smile. "You all right?"
He managed a weak smile in return, old pain in his eyes. "Been better. I'll admit, I could use a hug?" he said sheepishly, looking like he expected to be turned down.
Lyssa stepped closer to him, heart aching for his pain. "Whatever you need," she promised him quietly, leaning forward and wrapping him up in her arms.
He pulled her close with a strength bordering on desperation, burying his face in her hair. "I'm not that man, anymore, Lyssa, I can't be," he whispered. "Why does he keep trying?"
She closed her eyes. "Because his only concern is making the school look good," she answered. "Anything else doesn't matter. It's not fair, I'm sorry."
He sighed, pulling away a short distance though he kept his hands on her arms. "It's not your fault, but thank you." He paused. "And... thank you for never asking me to be him."
She reached a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, bringing one hand up to clasp hers closer to him.
"You won me over by being the kind, generous, science-obsessed man you are now," she told him softly, meaning every word of it, though she couldn't quite tell if she was talking to John or the Doctor with that statement. "Why would I want you to change any of that?"
He smiled, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm before lowering it, still clasped in his hand. "And that's one of the ways you won me over," he told her with one of his warm smiles she only ever saw aimed at her. "With your kindness and compassion for a lonely, hurting man. It'd been so long since I felt a gentle touch, and you didn't even hesitate to offer a hand to me."
She looked down with a blush and a sheepish laugh. "You credit me with so much, as if I did something amazing."
"But that's just it, love," he told her, using his other hand to cup her cheek with one hand and gently stroking it with his thumb. She closed her eyes, hearing the Doctor when he spoke next. "To me, you did."
She felt his warm breath against her face as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. She opened her eyes to find his own eyes closed, taking a deep breath before letting it out again.
"Thank you, Lyssa. Truly," he whispered.
She felt her heart start to pound a littler faster as he gently tipped her face up towards his, lips parting slightly. Her eyes fluttered shut instinctively, leaning into his touch as he grew closer to her, breath mingling with his in the negligible distance between them. His other hand rose up to cup the back of her head, pulling her ever closer to him. His lips had just barely brushed hers when -
"Don't stop on my account."
Lyssa startled away from John with a gasp at as the same time as he jerked upright, hand swiftly dropping to her arm and tugging her behind him defensively as they swung around to see -
"Jack?" Lyssa exclaimed with wide eyes.
Jack Harkness, dressed in period-appropriate attire, shot her a wink, leaning against the now-open doorway with a smirk. "Hey, Imp. Like I said, don't stop on my account."
"Harkness," John growled, shooting the other man a dirty look as Lyssa's cheeks flushed with heat and keeping an arm held out protectively in front of her. "What are you doing here?"
"Wow, such a warm welcome for your cousin-to-be. Didn't you hear?" he smiled crookedly. "I'm the new teacher."
"Are you causing trouble already?" A female voice called out in exasperation.
Lyssa frowned. That voice had sounded vaguely familiar.
"No, dear," Jack called back with yet another wink at Lyssa. "Hey, cousin. Have you met my wife?"
"Who would marry you?" John scoffed at the same time as Lyssa shook her head with confusion. She certainly didn't remember this from the show.
"I told you to play nice," the woman scolded him, voice growing closer. "It's been less than a minute and you're already being difficult."
"Jack? What's going on?" Lyssa demanded. "Why are you here?" More importantly... which version of him was this? He hadn't said anything yet, but if he was early and trying to find the Doctor and ended up accidentally bringing back John's memories too early... they could be in serious trouble.
"Long story, I'll tell you later. In the meantime, you get to meet the light of my life, aka, the only woman who'll actually put up with me," Jack grinned as a tall woman with thick curly hair and a beautiful blue dress stepped out the door and turned to face them.
"Hello, sweetie," River smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: So, I don't know if I'm more nervous about the first section, or the reader's reaction to the last few paragraphs hahaha
For reals though, the main reason it took three weeks to get this chapter up was the first two sections of this chapter. Literally spent most of my time alternating between trying to write a realistic scene and muffling my screaming into my pillow because I have literally no idea what I'm doing. So, uh, I apologize if the mental gymnastics in the first section left you scratching your head, I tried to make it all realistic and sensible, but as previously stated, I have no idea what I'm doing.
In other news, Lyssa and John are only engaged, not married, as some of you have guessed. And yes, Lyssa really is that dramatic about putting on a fake engagement ring. (Are any of you actually surprised?)
Jack and River's arrival has been planned for some time (as well as Jack's little interruption), so it's fun to see them actually here! (And it'll be fun to see the chaos they'll inevitably cause)
I'd also like to caution everyone about making assumptions for certain scenes of this chapter. You never know what's really going on ( ̶B̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶I̶ ̶g̶o̶)
Bonus/deleted scene:
Lyssa: The Doctor kissed me twice... Do you think he likes me?
Martha: *internal screaming*
Special thank to everyone who's voted and followed, and shout-out to all my reviewers! You guys keep me going when I'm struggling with scenes like that first one.
Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! :)
General Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, just Lyssa