Lyssa opened her eyes and found herself standing in a shadowy wasteland that instinctively made her shudder. A low fog added to the creepy atmosphere, hiding and revealing parts of the landscape in turn - dead grass and bare trees - as the howling wind blew it every which way. No one else was around and she turned in a slow circle, wondering just where the Doctor had sent her. But before she could really panic, she heard the noise of the TARDIS landing and spun around to see the ship materialize a few yards away.
The Twelfth Doctor slipped out, scanning the area - and eyes moving right past her. Jaw clenched tight, he locked the door before resting his hand on the wood, head bowed. She stepped forward hesitantly, torn between anger at his actions and worry for him. In the end, compassion won out, and she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder as she whispered his name.
Except her hand went through his arm, and he didn't react beyond heaving a quiet sigh. She pulled her hand away in shock, and realized for the first time that it was transparent and tinged in gold. A quick glance revealed that the rest of her was as well - and that her feet didn't quite touch the ground. No wonder he hadn't heard her.
She was a ghost.
Ignoring her existential crisis, he finally turned around and narrowed his eyes on a spot in the distance, eyes narrowing. She followed his gaze and saw a single light flickering, the only sign of life for miles around.
It was there that the Doctor traveled, hands in his pockets and a nonchalant, almost bored expression on his face. His eyes revealed the truth, however, fear and anger warring in equal measure before he hid it all behind an icy glare as she walked - well, floated, really - beside him.
Two figures appeared out of the gloom as they approached. One, the Master, wearing a cruel smirk. The other, knelt in submission by his feet, hood covering their features. The light came from a solitary lantern hovering in the air behind them, and did little to add cheer to the atmosphere.
The Doctor stopped a few yards away, eyes flitting over the hooded figure before returning to the other Time Lord. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the fob watch they'd found earlier, and lifted it into the air, raising an eyebrow.
"I see you found my message," the Master called cheekily. "Did you like it? I left it just for you."
The Doctor regarded him coldly, fury burning in his eyes. "Let her go, Master. She has no part in this, and what you've done to her is both cruel and illegal. She'll burn up before long if you don't stop this. Just let her go."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, old friend," the Master told him, giving him a sympathetic smile. "It's already too late for her. I'd say I was sorry to disappoint you, except, well..." He shrugged. "I'm really not. If it's any consolation, it didn't last long. It was actually kind of disappointing," he hummed.
"I suppose I'm used to you surrounding yourself with higher quality companions," he sighed. "Like Alyssa. Although..." He made a show of peering around and, unable to physically interact, Lyssa contented herself with maturely sticking her tongue out at him. "Where is she? Surely she would have insisted upon being here with you, at the end."
"She did," the Doctor admitted briefly. "I sent her away."
The Master raised an eyebrow. "To protect her, I suppose? How noble. Useless, in the end, but noble. How exactly like you," he sneered. "The valiant knight, protecting the weak and defenseless."
The Doctor's glare fell away, replaced with a smirk. "Yes, because that's exactly what Lyssa is. Tell me, do you still have the scar?"
Lyssa frowned, turning to look at him. There was a story there and she wanted to hear it, though she had the feeling she wouldn't be learning it any time soon.
The Master stiffened, one hand twitching towards his other arm before he forcibly stopped himself. "I still have her," he retorted at last, glancing pointedly down at the figure by his feet. "And there's no getting out of it this time, Doctor. You know that."
All hints of humor vanished. "Yes. I do," he said gravely. "I knew it as soon as I saw the coordinates. And I came anyway."
The Master raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, it seems like you do know just about everything." He smirked. "Except, perhaps, who." He nudged the hooded figure with one foot, and they slowly rose to their feet, revealing a slender form garbed in a simple tunic and pants that were ripped and burned around the edges. "Take off your hood, love. It's time for the Doctor to understand what he's done. Let him know who you are."
The figure raised their hands to their head and slipped the hood down. Lyssa couldn't make out their face for some reason, but she caught sight of gold hair before it was blocked by the Doctor as he staggered backwards, a harsh cry escaping his mouth.
He stood there in shock for a moment, breathing hard, before curling his hands into fists. He slowly raised his head to glare at the other Time Lord, eyes burning with rage. "What is this?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "What have you done?"
"I should think it quite obvious who it is," the Master said calmly, rolling his eyes. "The Siren. Duh. Did you really not know? I mean, I was surprised at first, I'll admit, but once I found out who she was, and why, well. I could hardly turn down the chance to bring chaos to the universe. To time itself. To you. As for what I've done, I think a more accurate question would be, 'what have I undone?'"
"You know what she's supposed to do," the Doctor bit out, rage falling away as he turned to the woman, heartbreak taking its place. "Why would you do this? You know what it means."
The Master shrugged uncaringly. "Why not? There's a saying among the humans, though, that I think might fit the situation here. It's what we love most that destroy us. I mean, maybe you don't love her anymore, but it's the thought that counts, right?"
The Doctor smiled bitterly. "You know that's not true. You know what it could cost if I face her."
"And why is that?" The Master leaned forward suddenly, his dark eyes glittering with malice.
"The same reason you chose this place to meet," the Doctor said, indicating the forest around them. "I've been here twice before, and both times, I nearly lost everything."
"I know," the Master said gleefully. "Only - the first time you were here, you saw what happened because of what's going to happen now. Does that comfort you? Knowing how it's going to end? That you've already lost everything?"
The Doctor shook his head slowly. "You're missing the point. I fought then, for the same reason that I can't fight now."
"Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten why," the Master pouted. "Do remind me?"
The Doctor looked the mysterious woman straight in the eyes, a sad, soft expression creeping over his face. "Because I owe her too much to let her die because of me. The only way to stop her is to kill her, and I can't kill her. I won't."
The scene flickered and began to fade, colors melding together into the glittering spiral of the Time Vortex in the span of a few seconds. Lyssa looked around frantically, but there was nothing to hold onto, and the Doctor - and the duo he had been facing - were lost.
"What was that?" she demanded. Her voice sounded shrill in the unsettling quiet, and she winced. "I don't understand," she whispered, hunching in on herself uncomfortably, the previously familiar swirls of the Vortex now strange and disquieting.
"Was that... a dream?" she tried to understand, staring down at her hands. She was solid now, but she hadn't been earlier - and that had never happened before, despite all the other ways her life had changed since she first met the Doctor. "Or... a vision, maybe?" she guessed uncertainly, thinking of the way she'd looked ahead on one of her earliest adventures and somehow caught glimpses of possible futures.
Or worse, had it been what the Doctor was actually doing after he'd sent her away? Where Bria was dead and he was facing the Master alone. Resigned to his fate of facing the Siren and paying the ultimate cost.
And despite his attempt to send her away, she'd been there anyway - forced to watch, and helpless to interfere. She grit her teeth, hands flying to her forehead and finding the small, smooth object he'd pressed there earlier. She tried to peel it off, digging her nails under the edge, but they did nothing more than scrape her skin as they slid off.
She let out a growl, eyes filling with frustrated tears. "Just take me back!" she shouted into the emptiness, giving up on removing the little gem. "Please! He needs help!" There was no reply - not that she'd expected anyone to be listening - and she clenched her jaw, anger growing. "Take me back!" she demanded again, focusing her rage on the glowing stream of Time for lack of a better target. "If you're going to drag me around his timeline, you could at least let me stay long enough to be of use!"
There was still no response and she scoffed bitterly, folding her arms across her chest. She hadn't expected - but she'd hoped, and yet there she was, far from the Doctor. She closed her eyes in frustration, trying to calm herself down, and counted silently in her head before re-opening them. Things looked different - off, somehow - and she frowned, looking around. It took her a moment.
It was getting darker.
The glowing colors were fading away, the spiraling streams slowly trickling into thin lines before vanishing entirely. Eyes wide, she tried to back away - which was hard, when you had nothing to stand on - as the lights began to go out.
And then it was just her, alone in the darkness.
She drew in a shuddering breath, one hand coming up to clutch at her necklace. It felt reassuringly solid as she looked around desperately for any source of light. And then, in the distance, a tiny golden swirl appeared.
She frowned, something about it vaguely familiar as it grew bigger, moving her way in gentle spirals. She watched warily, though grateful for the light, as it slowed to a stop in front of her. It floated down towards her feet before spiraling upwards once more to reveal a tall woman clad in an elaborate gown, golden wings flowing from her back and stars glittering in her eyes. She looked beautiful - like a queen presenting herself to her court.
But as Lyssa looked closer, a different picture started to emerge. The dress was faded, her wings limp against her back. Exhaustion was written into her pale features as she raised her head, giving Lyssa a small but genuine smile. Still a queen, but perhaps one returning from battle rather than a ball.
"Hello, my dear," she said quietly. "It's been rather a difficult time for us both recently, has it not?"
"You... I know you," Lyssa frowned, studying the other woman's face and trying to place it. "I've seen you before. How did you get here? I thought I was the only one who could do that."
"Not quite, I'm afraid," the woman said, giving her a wan smile. "While most cannot... there are a few who can. I happen to be a member of that particular group, and as my chosen child, you can as well."
"Child?" Lyssa repeated with a frown, backing up warily. "What do you -" A barrier she'd never noticed before vanished in her mind, memories of another encounter with the woman slotting neatly into place like they've always been there. "Canary Wharf," she said numbly. "You were there. You told me I couldn't change anything, because the - the bad guy had changed things already and it might make things worse." She paused, filtering through her new memories. "And then you locked my memories away!" she said incredulously.
The woman - Tirdis - nodded, her form flickering and fading with the movement. "Our time was too limited, and you were not ready." Her face fell. "There are many things I cannot tell you, my darling, lest I do you harm that cannot be fixed."
She reached out, brushing a feather-light hand down Lyssa's face. "You are stronger now, but still in so much danger. Always in danger, because of the burden I have placed upon you." She sighed, eyes shimmering with tears. "You will be forced to endure so much. I'm sorry," she breathed.
Lyssa softened despite herself. "It's not your fault what other people do, or try to do," she pointed out. "And... and you said that you chose me specifically because I could handle this, right?" she asked uncertainly.
Tirdis shook her head. "We chose you because you were kind. Because you chose to act despite your fears. Because your soul matches my thief's, your heart to his." She cupped Lyssa's cheek with a near-intangible hand. "Because you will stand firmly beside him against our foe at the end of Time and defeat him."
Lyssa frowned. "But... I think we were just at the end of Time," she said. "I mean, Bria's dead, and I think the Siren's awake now, which he said was the big sign or whatever. And - and he said if he faced the Siren he would die! How is that a victory?" she demanded.
"Time is not set in stone, dear one," the woman reminded her. "And just because a legend proclaims something as truth does not mean it is. You learned this yourself at the Pandorica."
"Yeah," Lyssa admitted reluctantly. "But I'm pretty sure the Siren is still bad news. If nothing else, the fact that the Master was so excited about it is warning enough. Which means the Doctor still shouldn't be there alone!" she exclaimed. "You said I'm supposed to be there with him, but he sent me away! Which is why I'm here in the first place," she explained unhappily, crossing her arms. "He was clearly terrified, and I wasn't going to let him face that alone. But... he sent me away," she finished, shoulders sagging.
"And he was right to do so," Tirdis told her softly, expression sympathetic. She held up a hand before Lyssa could protest. "That does not mean he will be alone, however. He told you himself. He is near the end of his journey with you, but yours has only just begun. You aren't ready to fight because you don't know what it could cost."
A tear trickled down her cheek, shimmering with the light of the stars. "You will stand beside him in the end, but not today. There is another you must stand by first, a lesson you must learn - and one far more important than being willing to fight."
"And what's that?" Lyssa asked cautiously.
Tirdis smiled sadly. "The cost. Every battle has its sacrifices, every victory has its price. No one escapes unscathed, but it is those at the front line who must always pay the most." She glanced down at her hands, fading in and out of sight, before turning back to Lyssa. "You must first learn to heal before you can learn to hurt. You cannot pay the price until you understand what it will cost." Her form flickered and wavered, like a screen losing the signal, and she grimaced, resting a hand against her chest.
"Tirdis? What's happening?" Lyssa frowned, reaching out a hand before faltering. "Are you all right?"
The woman sighed, studying her translucent form with a resigned expression. "I paid my price," she said simply. "And I will continue paying it until I pass. To interact with the physical world weakens me, but I will heal in time."
"If it's so dangerous, why are you doing it?" Lyssa asked incredulously. "Go back to the TARDIS, or become the TARDIS again, or whatever it is you do. If this is hurting you, you need to leave!"
"This isn't quite the physical world, dear one," Tirdis reminded her with a faint tinkling laugh. "We're in the Time Vortex. This is still my home, even with the physical form I have been bound to." She lifted a hand, a stream of golden dust flowing up and away from it, growing bigger and bigger until it was spiraling around them both, forming the Vortex once more. "It is safer here, though we cannot stay."
She sighed, lowering her hand once more. "But outside the Vortex, he is the stronger, and I the weaker. He is a creature of darkness, and it is far easier to create dark than to create light. The Master is one of his favored servants, and I had to fight fiercely to send you what you needed to get through his tricks, even though it was merely words on his ring."
"Wait, that was you?" Lyssa asked with wide eyes, thinking of the Doctor's ring - and how the words had helped her find the strength to keep going. "So when he said you rarely intervened because of the cost..." Her eyes flicked to the woman's fading arms.
"This is part of the price, yes," Tirdis acknowledged. "And yes, it was I who helped you find the Doctor then, and it is I who am sending you to help the Doctor find himself now."
"What do you mean?" Lyssa asked nervously. "What's happened to him? And - and how can I help?"
Tirdis smiled faintly. "By helping a broken man put himself back together. It is one of the most important things you could ever do. Show him he is loved, my daughter, and always remember that you are loved. Because that is the only way to conquer hatred of any kind."
Ignoring the questions Lyssa promptly started to ask, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just above the stone the Doctor had placed there. Lyssa blinked, raising a hand up as the slight weight slowly dissipated, and found nothing there.
Warmth spiraled away from the spot, just like it had before the Doctor sent her away, and Lyssa's eyes widened as she was pulled rapidly away from the woman. Gold washed over her vision, and when it cleared, she was alone once more, standing in one of the hallways in the TARDIS. Not the clean metal of later Doctors, but the dull metallic gold of earlier in his timeline with dim lighting, although they brightened at her arrival.
Definitely Nine or Ten, then, she surmised, glancing around for clues before shrugging and picking a direction to walk. And judging by the positively gloomy atmosphere, darker than any she'd seen before, it was probably at a point where he was on his own and not handling it too well.
Unfortunately, that didn't really narrow it down.
She sighed, guessing this was likely what Tirdis had meant when she'd told her to help him. He'd be lonely and hurting, and probably blaming himself for whatever had happened on some level. One hand reached up to clutch her charm. The Doctor had told her when he'd given it to her that it meant he'd always be her friend, but friendship went two ways. He'd been there for her after Canary Wharf, and it seemed like the time had come to return the favor.
She rounded a corner and halted as she heard an angered shout, followed by a harsh clang. She faltered, briefly wondering if the ship was under attack, before dismissing it and picking up speed once more - the TARDIS would have warned her. Another shout, this time of incomprehensible words and filled with a horrible grief and pain. She sucked in a sharp breath.
That voice had been the Doctor's.
She slowed down as she approached the console room, wincing as the raging continued. She glanced up, the lights above her dimming as if to confirm her fears.
"Tell me, why shouldn't I? What have I got left to lose?" the Ninth Doctor's voice echoed back to her. "Nothing! That's what! I've got nothing left to lose." His voice slowed, becoming emptier and sadder. "I've lost everything, and everyone. I've lost my planet, my family, my friends. I've lost her." His voice cracked on the last word. "So tell me, why shouldn't I just open the doors and stroll on out of here? Who'd miss me if I'm gone? There's no one here to miss me, because I killed them all!"
The ship groaned in alarm and Lyssa shook off her stupefied horror, darting the rest of the way into the console room. Her footsteps clattered on the grating as she burst in, practically jumping down the stairs. She spotted a hunched over figure reaching for the doors and her heart leapt into her throat.
"I would! I'd miss you!" she called out desperately.
He stiffened when he heard her and swung around to reveal a face filled with pain, eyes red. They widened when they saw her. "Lyssa?" he breathed. She nodded rapidly, smile starting to form, only for it to vanish when he scowled, hurt filling his eyes as he turned away with a heavy sigh. "Go away," he muttered, resting a hand on one of the pillars near the door. "I already told you not to do that."
She faltered. "What? I don't - Doctor?" He flinched at the name and she frowned. "Doctor? Are you all right?"
He laughed bitterly. "All right. How could I possibly be all right?" He shook his head. "You know that. Why are you here? What are you tryin' to do that could possibly make this better?" He swung back around to face her, eyes bright with tears. "Because if you're tryin' to make things better, I will tell you right now that that," he gestured at her, "is the worst possible way to go about it." He hung his head down and sighed, closing his eyes wearily. "It just makes the pain worse. Go away. Please."
She paused, not understanding what he was referring to, but shook her head. "Not when you're hurting like this, Doctor," she told him adamantly, frowning when he flinched again at the name. "What's wrong?"
He snapped, rearing back and punching the pillar so hard she heard a crack as he whipped around to face her. She flinched at the sudden movement, watching with wide eyes. "I'm not the Doctor!" he shouted, face twisting. "And you're not Lyssa," he bit out.
He faltered, fury fading as fast as it had appeared. "So stop pretendin' to be. Please," he whispered brokenly. "I can't be him again, no matter how hard you try. Just... go away, and let me suffer in peace. I'll stay here, I promise. No point in goin' out now," he muttered bitterly. "Doubt you'd even let me."
"Help the Doctor find himself."
The whisper came to mind unbidden, and Lyssa's eyes widened with realization. That was what Tirdis had meant - that she would meet the Doctor at such a low point he didn't even consider himself to be the Doctor anymore. With no sign of Rose around - and the all too visible trauma - he must have just regenerated after the Time War, the horrors and loss from it all too fresh in his mind.
She swallowed hard, uncertain where to even begin. He clearly knew her - had called her by name. But then had promptly taken it back, assuming her to be someone else. She sighed. That was as good a place to start as any, then. Maybe get him to rest, if she could? If the bags under his eyes were any indication he was clearly exhausted.
"Who do you think I am?" she asked softly, mindful not to call him by his name this time.
He huffed, glaring down at the floor. "I don't think, I know. You've done this before, tryin' to snap me out of it. You're the TARDIS' voice interface, and for the last time, I didn't ask for your help!"
Her mouth formed a silent 'oh' of comprehension. He didn't even think she was real, just a simulation to keep him going. No wonder he was angry.
"Sometimes you don't have to ask for help to get it anyway," she told him quietly, walking slowly towards him. "Because if we always waited until someone asked, there are people out there who might never get help. And sometimes they never do," she admitted sorrowfully. "But you've always tried to help them. So now it's our turn to return the favor."
He glanced up at her, grief written across his face as he shook his head. "I told you, I don't want your help. I don't deserve it."
"By whose standards?" she asked gently. "Because I want to help you anyway," she told him, reaching a hand out to him, but leaving it in the air for him to make the final choice to take it.
He didn't, instead backing away and shaking his head wildly. "Don't. I couldn't bear - you're not real," he said desperately, eyes shining. "You're just a hologram, no touch. If I were to swipe a hand through you, you'd disappear."
"But you wouldn't do that, would you?" she said softly, heart threatening to break for him. "Because if I really were here, and I were real, and you were to hit me, you might hurt me. And you would never do that. You'd never risk hurting me, even at your lowest point. And I am here. I'm real. Just take my hand and see," she entreated him, keeping her hand out invitingly.
He shook his head, swallowing hard. "I'm at my lowest point," he reminded her. "I didn't just hurt someone, I killed billions of innocent men, women and children. Including you. You're dead, Lyssa!" he told her harshly. "I killed everyone, and my punishment is to survive, knowing what I've done."
He turned away from her and collapsed to the ground, burying his face in his hands. "I killed them all. I killed her. It's my fault, all my fault." He laid his palms open on his lap and turned his head up to her, tear tracks staining his face. "I killed you. Your blood, everyone's blood, is on my hands."
She felt a few tears of her own trickle down her cheeks as she crouched down beside him. "Except it's not," she told him gently. "Look." She held out both hands this time, revealing the splotchy stain from the animatronic and the scrapes she'd accumulated from the past day. "Here I am, a little bruised but still whole," she promised. "Alive and well, because of you. You didn't kill me, Doctor, you saved me."
"Saved you?" he scoffed, still refusing to take her hands. "I watched you die in front of me! You were there because of me, and you burnt up!" His shoulders slumped and he turned his gaze back to the ground. "And now you're here, and you're talkin' to me, because I'm either hallucinatin' you again, or the TARDIS is tryin' to fix me up when I can't be fixed. And when I touch you, and you're not real, it'll just make it worse. And I can't handle that. Not now."
"Except I am real, and I'm right here, if you would just touch me and see!" she tried again. "I'm alive, and completely fine, but I'm worried about you! So's the TARDIS, she told me you would need my help."
He shook his head. "Well, you're not the voice interface, I know that much now." He looked at her, his eyes heavy and sad. "Which means I'm just hallucinatin' you again. Or dreamin'. But there's no screamin' or burnin', so I can't be dreamin'."
"Well, if you are, then I am too," Lyssa insisted, holding her hand out for him one more time. "And it must be a good dream, because you're here with me, and I'm here with you. 'Cause you're my best friend," she informed him, indicating her necklace with her free hand.
His eyes widened at the sight of her necklace, and suddenly he seemed to be alive again, jolting upright and running his eyes over her desperately. "Lyssa?" he said pleadingly, his hand hovering just above the blue gem centered in her snowflake charm.
She gave him a small smile. "It's really me," she promised softly.
A tear slipped out, trickling down one cheek. "You're... really here?" he asked one last time.
She offered him a tremulous smile and nodded. "I am. And you can prove that whenever you're ready," she said, keeping her hand in the air.
His hand hovered over hers for a moment, trembling, before slowly descending as the tip of his finger lightly brushed against her palm. He stiffened, eyes filling with disbelief, before slowly spreading his shaking hand out to cover hers. He held it there a moment before slowly entwining his fingers with hers, staring at her hands as if expecting her to disappear at the touch.
When she didn't, he let out a broken laugh and pulled her into a crushing hug. She wrapped her arms around him immediately, trying to provide the stalwart support for him that he'd always been for her. He buried his face in her hair, shoulders beginning to shake as he finally gave in.
"I'm not alone anymore."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you all had a great Fourth of July! Ours was a bit rainy, but my family was stubborn and just shot off our fireworks anyways. We have stubbornness issues. :D
Special thanks to everyone who's voted, followed, and commented! Your support is amazing!!
Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! :)
General Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, just Lyssa (and, technically, Tirdis).
Edited May 2023