Lyssa closed her eyes, heart breaking at the pain - at the desperate hope - in his voice. "No. You're not," she promised him, holding him a little tighter. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here before. But I'm here now."
Keeping one arm wrapped firmly around him, she used the other to gently rub his back, trying to offer him some form of comfort. It seemed too little in the face of such overwhelming grief, but he leaned into her touch like she was the only thing holding him together. Eventually his sobs began to taper off, and they sat there together in the console room in a silence broken only by his ragged breaths.
She glanced up at the console, wishing the TARDIS could take them somewhere to fix his pain, or even give her a hint on what to do next. She'd never experienced a loss this profound - even after losing her father, she'd still had other family and friends who'd helped her shoulder the burden as she adjusted. He still had the TARDIS - his true home - but home could be a lonely place if there was no one there to fill it. He'd lost everyone, and everything, all at once.
Or at least he thought he had.
But she couldn't tell him. So much of what he'd done had come about as a result of what he believed - that he was the last, that Gallifrey was gone. As horrible as it was, it had shaped who he had become for centuries. She couldn't rewrite Time like that - not to that extent, not without knowing how it would affect him.
But she could bear to just leave him like that, either.
"Doctor?" she started hesitantly, shifting slightly to try and get a look at his face.
He flinched. "Don't call me that. Please," he whispered, voice breaking on the last word. He pulled away slightly, just enough that he had room to look up at her with a pleading expression. "I - I can't," he shook his head, eyes filling with fresh tears. "I don't deserve it. Not anymore."
They'd have to agree to disagree on that, but... later. Determined not to let him get lost again, she dropped her hand down, curling her fingers around his and forcing herself not to react to the blazing heat that sparked at her touch. "Then what should I call you?" she asked patiently, keeping her face open and non-judgmental.
He shook his head, the movement so slight it was almost lost. "I don't know," he shrugged helplessly. "I don't even know who I am anymore. I lost everythin' in the war. Includin' myself."
Lyssa blinked back tears, but forced a smile. "Well, then, it's a good thing that I used to be quite good at Hide and Seek, now, isn't it? And I must warn you," she said lightly, "I don't give up. Used to drive all the other kids nuts, because I'd refuse to give up until I found everyone."
He didn't smile - she was afraid she wouldn't see one of his bright smiles for a very long time - just met her gaze with a near hopeless look. "Maybe some things were meant to stay lost," he muttered, drawing in a shuddering breath. "Maybe it's better that way. Maybe it was somethin' terrible that was lost, and should never be found again."
She returned his gaze steadily. "And maybe it was something brilliant, and beautiful, and amazing, and good. Not lost, just... hiding. Something so brilliant, and bright, and noble that it couldn't bear the darkness of the universe and hid itself, waiting for the darkness to pass."
"What if it was the darkness?" he countered, hopeless misery filling his face. "Something that chose to do a horrible deed, so terrible that even the darkness hated itself?"
"And what if it wasn't?" she returned, refusing to judge him like he feared, like he expected. "What if it was a man - a good man - who was forced to pick the only option that had been left to him? Who only saw one way to stop the madness and slaughter of innocents -"
"By slaughterin' everyone?" he interrupted bitterly, his face twisting.
She regarded him sadly, knowing that no matter what she said or did, he had already judged himself as guilty and would bear that condemnation until the day he would remember saving Gallifrey. She couldn't change that, but... perhaps she could get him to believe a few other things along the way.
First things first, though, he needed rest. Desperately. She glanced down at her free hand, still stained red, and bit back a shudder. Then she paused, an idea striking her. If this version was anything like his future selves, focusing on helping himself wasn't even a consideration. But focusing on helping others - on helping her - was.
"No," she shook her head. "Because that's not what he did. But we can talk about that later, I need to clean up and get some rest first." She let some of her exhaustion slip into her face. "I haven't been able to sleep for far too long."
He frowned, concern edging out some of the despair and self-hatred on his face. "Did somethin' happen? Are you all right?"
She managed a weary shrug. "Physically, I think I'm fine. Some scrapes and bruises, thoroughly worn out from all that adrenaline. We were on the run all night. Or... I was, at least," she shuddered, tightening her grip on his hand, on the proof that he was there with her. "The less said about that, the better."
"What happened?" he frowned, some life coming back into his eyes as he looked her over. "You said physically. What about everythin' else?"
She gave him a wan smile. "Let's just say that you're not the only one who spent a while thinking everyone was dead. It was horrible, and I'll probably have nightmares, but I'm not hurt, I promise. I just need a shower, and some sleep. And so do you, I think." She tugged on his sleeve with her free hand, indicating a hole in the tattered brown sweater. "And possibly some new clothes."
He narrowed his eyes, now thoroughly focused on her. "You bit your lip so hard it bled. Your eyes are red and swollen, and you look exhausted," he listed off with growing concern. He glanced down and promptly caught her other hand with his. "Is this blood?" he demanded, lifting it up in the air and displaying her palm.
She followed his gaze to the rust-colored stain and swallowed down a wave of nausea. "No. I'm almost positive it isn't," she told him. "Just... a horrible result from a horrible person." She drew in a deep breath, trying to tamp down the memories. "Like I said, I think we both need a shower and... a place that's calm and relaxing," she decided. "We can talk more then. How 'bout that?" she offered.
He ducked his head, shoulders sagging. "I don't think I can leave the TARDIS," he admitted ashamedly. "I'm not ready."
She gave him a weak smile. "I'm nowhere near ready to leave yet either. I feel safer here. You're here," she told him, gently squeezing his hand.
"Except I'm not safe to be around," he told her mournfully, jaw trembling as he stared down at their connected hands. "Especially for you."
She shook her head. "No," she whispered, recalling all too easily the terror of the night before, her grief at losing him. "It's so much worse alone." She took a deep breath and shook off the mood. "But like I said, we can talk about that after we shower."
"You're quite insistent that I shower," he muttered with a spark of his old - future? - spirit, though he didn't look offended in the least as she tugged him to his feet and into the hallway.
"There's a reason for that," she informed him dryly. "I'm covered in dirt and probably a bunch of other horrible things I don't want to think about. And you need some fresh clothes, too. Far too difficult to relax like this." She paused, glancing around uncertainly as the corridor split off in different directions, and smiled when the one to the left lit up.
"Here we go," she announced, heading that direction. "Okay, I think my room should be..." she trailed off as they rounded a corner, stopping in surprise when she saw only one door in the hallway - and not hers, made of a dark stained wood and bearing the now-familiar Circular Gallifreyan symbols etched into it. "Not here," she finished faintly.
Still, it was obvious this was where the TARDIS wanted them to go, so she kept moving. He stiffened slightly as they approached, and she glanced up at him curiously before refocusing on the door. She'd never seen it before, although granted, she'd hardly been able to explore the entirety of the ship in her relatively short time aboard.
"Is this your room?" she guessed uncertainly. He nodded wordlessly, eyes fixed on the door. "Ah... I guess I can head off to my room and meet you back here in a little bit?" she suggested, starting to pull away, only to stop and turn back to him when his hand tightened on hers.
"I - I can't go in there," he whispered brokenly. His eyes shot to hers, pleading silently for her to understand.
She didn't, but she didn't have to, either. She squeezed his hand comfortingly. "That's all right," she told him with a faint smile. "We don't have to, I just thought that you might be more comfortable in your own room. I'm sure there's plenty more in the TARDIS. Do you want to just go in and grab some clothes, then?"
He shook his head mutely and she nodded easily, determined to make this as smooth as possible for him. "All right, do you want to head down to the Wardrobe and find something?" she offered. He shook his head again and she faltered, casting about for options. "All right, um... do you want me to go in and grab some clothes?" she tried, not sure what to suggest next.
Except he nodded, looking more at ease than he had so far. "She'll put somethin' on the bed to grab," he told her. "And she should block out any potential spoilers."
She hummed an acknowledgement, not all that surprised. If he knew her well, like she was assuming, then it was likely that he had pictures of her future self that would need to be blurred out, the same as with the pictures in her room. "Do you need to unlock it first?" she asked, not wanting to drag it out when it was clearly painful enough for him just standing by the door.
He shook his head. "It's locked, but she'll let you in," he said quietly, dropping her hand with some reluctance. "Leave the door open," he added as she stepped forward, and she glanced back at him. "Please. So I can see you."
She nodded, facing forward once more and placing a hesitant hand on the doorknob. To her surprise, it opened easily, swinging forward to reveal a darkened room. Mindful of his wishes, she pushed it open all the way and felt along the wall until she came across a light switch. She flipped it on, blinking at the sudden light, and glanced around.
It was a spacious room, with elaborate woodwork along the walls and set up like something out of a catalog - and absolutely immaculate. Not a speck of dust, not a single piece of clothing left on the floor or tossed over a piece of furniture. A sturdy wooden desk sat along one wall next to a tall bookshelf filled with old books and a comfortable looking chair. On the far side was the bed, also looking like it'd just come from the store - as if no one had sat on it, let alone slept in it, for a very long time.
Given his aversion to even entering the room, she doubted anyone had.
Not wanting to snoop, she shook herself and hurried over to the bed, where a small stack of clothes had been neatly folded. She scooped them up into her arms and turned to leave, noticing that, true to his word, most of the decorations on the desk and bookshelf were completely blurred out. But one picture - a painting, really - wasn't blurred out, and she stopped short in surprise.
It was her. It had to be. Her hair was quite a bit longer, curls somewhat lightened in color, but otherwise it looked as though it could have been a painting of her current self. She wore a simple blue dress and a warm smile as she stretched out her hand to the artist, eyes glowing with the familiar gold of the Time Vortex. The glow was everywhere in the painting, in fact - winding up her arms and through her hair before spiraling down her back, teasing at shimmering wings, as if she were walking on air.
Or the floor of the TARDIS, it seemed, although she'd never seen it with this appearance before. Four metal latticework pillars surrounded the console, which emitted a deep blue glow, although that was all she could see, most of the painting taken up by the rendition of her. The artist seemed to be trying to convey this ethereal quality to her, granting her a beauty she didn't actually possess.
She furrowed her brow, wondering why she'd been allowed to see this - when it was most definitely from her future - before shaking her head to snap herself out of it. It was a painting of her in the TARDIS, which would hardly give anything away aside from the fact that she'd be jumping to earlier versions at some point - something she'd been starting to suspect for some time. And she had other things to focus on at the moment.
Ignoring her growing curiosity, she pushed the image out of her mind and turned back to the door. She found him waiting impatiently, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the doorway. He visibly relaxed when she appeared, shutting the door behind her, and she gave him a sheepish smile for the delay.
"I got the clothes," she offered, lifting the stack in the air. "I suppose... my bedroom next?" she glanced up at him. "And then we can figure it out from there."
He nodded, reaching for her hand before faltering and dropping it as he turned to lead them. She promptly shifted the clothes to her other arm and grabbed his hand, giving him a small smile when he looked at her. He didn't say anything, but some of the tension left his frame and she counted that as a win.
Her bedroom wound up a few hallways away from his, and she supposed the distance was probably for the best. A new door stood directly across from hers, cracked open just enough to reveal a spacious bathroom, and she sent a grateful smile to the ceiling.
"TARDIS must've moved it here," he said, reaching out to rest his hand on the wall. He paused, glancing down at their hands before reluctantly releasing her.
"She really is fantastic. This way we can find each other right away after our showers instead of wandering around hopelessly lost," she said brightly, trying to pretend she wasn't worried at all as she handed him his clothes. "You'll probably get done first, so you can just come wait in my room," she told him. "I'll try not to take too long, but my hair is a disaster," she said, fingering a frizzy curl with an expression of distaste at the grit she could feel.
"You'll - still be here when I get out?" he asked hesitantly, watching as she crossed over to her door.
She faltered, hand resting on her door. "I should be," she said quietly, wishing she could promise. "I just got here, and usually it's at least a few days before I jump again. And... I think I'm going to be here for a while this time," she admitted, glancing back at him. He nodded once, something flickering in his eyes, but he turned and slipped inside the other door before she could name it.
She swallowed hard, watching him go and reminding herself that he would come back before turning to her own door. She left it open, not wanting to risk locking him out by mistake, and headed for her closet. She grabbed the knee-length dress and leggings she'd worn the last time she'd needed to relax and set them on the counter in her bathroom along with a pair of shoes.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. Her hair really was filthy, but trying to wash and style it could take upwards of an hour, and she did not want to leave him alone for that long. As if reading her mind - or more likely, just being the perfect being she already was - the TARDIS opened a panel in the wall to reveal a small bottle resting on a shelf.
She picked it up curiously and raised her eyebrows when she saw the label claimed to fix all hair woes in a matter of minutes - and rated specifically for her type of curl. She didn't even have to get her hair wet first. Trusting the TARDIS, she shrugged and set to work, pouring it liberally over her curls and scrunching it in with her fingers.
Once she was done, she pulled it into a loose bun and covered it with a shower cap to protect it before slipping into the shower. The hot water felt incredible after the long day - night? - but she didn't let herself relax as she scrubbed. The stupid stain on her hand refused to come off, but she shoved it out of her mind, trying to focus on where to go from there.
He desperately needed sleep, as did she, so that would be as good a place as any to start. But he refused to sleep in his own room and would doubtless do the same for any guest bedrooms the TARDIS might offer. Knowing what he would likely see in his dreams... she couldn't blame him.
So, no bedrooms, then. But somewhere quiet and peaceful, where they could relax. No pressure, nowhere to go, just a place they both felt safe. A place to escape the awful truths that reality could bring...
"You showed this room to me shortly after the Time War, and it was one of the greatest gifts you've ever given me."
A little piece of home for them both.
She smiled. Stepping out of the shower, she hastily dried off and dressed, tossing the shower cap into a drawer before tugging her hair out of the bun. Neatly-formed curls tumbled down past her shoulders, not a sign of frizz or dirt to be seen, and she let out a delighted laugh. Whispering grateful thanks to the ship, she tugged on a pair of flats and stepped back into her room.
He was there already, looking cleaner but no less stressed in a green jumper and black pants, and pacing anxiously. He swung around when the door creaked, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her. "You are real," he breathed, pulling her into a hug. "I wasn't sure if I'd just dreamed it," he admitted quietly. "But you're really here."
"I'm here, I promise," she assured him, returning the embrace wholeheartedly. She leaned against him and found herself relaxing at the reassuring thump of his hearts. "We both are."
His grip tightened for a moment before he released her and stepped back, trailing his hand down her arm before finally dropping it completely. "You're really all right?" he asked.
She managed a weak smile. "Like I said earlier, physically I'm fine, minus a few scrapes. Emotionally..." she shrugged, glancing away briefly. "I'm not in a good place to be alone right now either." She took a deep breath and donned a brighter smile. "So, I came up with the perfect place for us to go after this," she told him. "Quiet, peaceful, and right here in the TARDIS. We'll just need to grab some blankets first."
She paused, eyeing some of the extra pillows on her bed. "And these. They'll make some great cushions," she said, grabbing a few in hopes they would get some actual use and he would be able to sleep.
The TARDIS had provided a stack of blankets in a small bag on her chair, and she added the pillows with a whispered thanks as she turned back to him. "You ready?" she checked, grabbing the bag.
He hesitated, but nodded, reaching out to take her hand once more. He followed her as they set off, showing no sign of recognition at where they might be going.
Lyssa kept a tight grip on him for both their sakes as they walked, following the path the TARDIS provided. She was fairly certain the ship had shuffled things around when she came across a familiar door only a few hallways away, and whispered her quiet thanks as she slowed to a stop, turning to face him uncertainly.
"So... a future version of you showed me this place about a month ago," she started hesitantly. "We'd just gone through something awful, and needed an escape. So you brought me here, and told me that this was a place for just the two of us." She paused, glancing at the door then back at him. "Uh... could you close your eyes real quick?"
She grimaced at the panic that promptly appeared, scolding herself for not anticipating that. "I'll still be right here, I promise," she told him immediately, squeezing his hand as a physical reminder. "I just... want this to be a happy surprise for you. It'd only be for a minute while I bring you in, but if you're not comfortable with that, we can go in together. In fact, forget I ever suggested it," she rambled, reaching out for the knob.
He stopped her before she could, shaking his head. "No. It's... all right," he told her. "Just... don't let go?" he asked, glancing down at their hands.
She nodded with a soft promise and he closed his eyes, grip immediately tightening around hers. Not wanting to make light of his trust, she kept up some mindless conversation in a soothing tone as she opened the door and led him inside a short ways, the red grass tickling her ankles as she set their bag on the ground.
She took a quick glance around, noting that, true to what she'd been told, at this point it was all Gallifrey - red grass waving in the slight breeze, silver trees glowing as they reflected the light of the two suns set low in the red sky. Even the snow glistening on the distant mountaintops had a slight tint to it that spoke of something other.
She took a deep breath. "You can look now," she told him.
He opened his eyes and promptly flinched, looking around with wide eyes. "I -" His voice broke and he shook his head, never once taking his eyes off the scenery.
"Is... do you like it?" she asked nervously, fidgeting with her hands. "I - It's okay if you don't," she added hastily as his silence continued. "I just thought maybe you'd like it, since it was helpful for me, but obviously the circumstances are different and I should have thought of that, and oh, it's too soon isn't it?" she rambled, trying not to panic. "I'm sorry, we can just go to the library or something, this was just an idea!"
"What is this place?" he breathed, slowly turning away from the landscape to look at her with a pleading expression. "It - it looks like..."
She gave him a sad smile, nerves falling away. "Home," she finished for him quietly, squeezing his hand. He nodded, face crumbling, and she swept him up into a hug, wishing she could do more to help him as he buried his face in her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"This is a place for just the two of us," she said softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "A home away from home. Whatever happens outside doesn't affect here."
She could feel him shudder against her before he reluctantly pulled away, looking around longingly. "How long can we stay here?" he asked, voice rough. "How long before the image dissipates?"
She frowned. "Dissipates?" she repeated uncertainly. "This is real. It'll stay here as long as we want, and then some," she explained
He shook his head. "No, you can't just recreate images of a place and have them be permanent, not like this. Not on this level. Draws too much power for the TARDIS to have operatin' for too long."
"But... it's not an image," she told him again, struggling to understand. "Everything in here, except for maybe the suns, is real. The dirt, the grass," she leaned down and pulled up a piece to show him. "I've only been in here a few times, but I'm willing to bet that the trees and snow are real too."
He swallowed hard, taking a few steps forward. "Lyssa... the only way that this could be here, is if it's really from Gal -from there. It's the way the TARDIS was designed. This would've had to have been brought in, or somethin' for her to replicate the mountains further on." He swung around to face her, blinking back tears. "This is from my home."
She managed a smile, forcing back a few of her own tears. "I told you. It's our home away from home. And we can stay here as long as we want or need." She reached down, lifting the bag of bedding back into her hand. "We just need to find a good spot - the landscape is a little different from the last time I was in here," she mused, walking a little further into the room.
"A good spot for what?" he asked with a glimmer of his normal curiosity as he followed her.
She glanced back at him with a smile. "You'll see."
Once they were in a spot she deemed right, flat and padded by grass, and bordered by trees, she stopped. Setting the bag down off to the side, she reached in and pulled out a large, thick quilt which she spread across the grass. She set several more off to the side with the pillows before sitting down with her back to one of the trees and gesturing for him to do the same.
"Right. Story time," she announced as he sat down close beside her. "Feel free to grab one of the pillows. This might take a while," she offered. He shook his head, leaning his head on her shoulder and closing his eyes tiredly, and she smiled. "Right. Now, before we get started, this is an ordinary story that is in no way related to your earlier comment about the darkness being the one that was lost, and my counter that it was the light that was hiding from the darkness."
He predictably frowned, opening his eyes and starting to sit up. "Lyssa," he started warningly.
She hastily shushed him. "Don't interrupt! I'm telling a story. Don't be rude, just relax and listen." He snorted softly, but leaned his head back down on her shoulder and closed his eyes again. "Thank you," she said archly.
"As I was saying," she continued, softening her tone to something low and soothing and wrapping her arm around his shoulder, tracing meaningless symbols over his arm with her hand. "This is just a regular old story about a regular old girl, who was trying to run away. She had no reason to stay, and nowhere to go, but she left anyway. She didn't think she was anything special, or that anything special would happen to her, because her life was so miserable and boring that why would it? She didn't deserve it." She drew a deep breath.
"One of the only things that made it better were the stories of a madman and his box, a man who was so kind that he traveled the universe looking for ways to help people. A man who didn't have a weapon, he had a screwdriver, so he could fix things. A man who didn't have a vehicle of war, he had a place where people could go when they needed help. A man who didn't have just one heart, he had two, because one wasn't enough to hold all the kindness and love and mercy he had," she whispered, glancing down at his still form on her shoulder.
His breathing had evened out, grief and pain smoothing away from his features as he slept, and she smiled faintly. "And then the most miraculous thing of all happened," she breathed, glancing up to see the stars twinkling in the night sky through the leaves. "He came to life. And he told her that she was special. That she deserved kindness and respect - to be loved and cared for. He showed her what that felt like, and eventually... she started to believe him."
She paused, looking at his peaceful expression, and came to a decision. Carefully shuffling until her back was resting more fully against the tree, she lowered her shoulder enough that his head started to slip down her arm. She tried her best to shift with him, guiding the movement until his head was resting on her lap.
He was still fast asleep, and she breathed a quick sigh of relief. The pillows were thankfully still in reach, so she grabbed them, slipping one underneath his head and the other behind hers so that she had some padding between her and the tree. She didn't feel cold, especially with the warmth of his body heat, but he didn't have that, so she spread a blanket over him as best as she could without jostling him too much.
"So when the time came that he needed compassion and care in turn, she knew where to start," she picked up where she had left off, tracing a hand gently down his face. "Because he showed her first. It wasn't to repay a debt. But because he deserved kindness and respect, to be loved and cared for. He just couldn't see it yet."
She swallowed hard. "I know you'll have nightmares," she whispered sorrowfully. "So will I. I can't stop them," she admitted. "But you and I seem to make a pretty good team. So, let's take them on together, yeah? You and me, we can do anything together. I believed in myself because you believed in me."
She smiled at his sleeping form, her eyes closing as sleep started to overcome her. "You were my favorite story growing up. The madman and his box, the Doctor and his TARDIS off to save the universe." She yawned, her sentence fading to a mumble as she dropped off to a peaceful sleep.
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A/N: Aww, a fluffy ending! That totally makes up for all the angst, right, guys?
Special thanks to everyone who's voted and followed, and shout-out to everyone who's commented! You guys are amazing!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! :)
General Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, just Lyssa.
Edited May 2023