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Yaz isn’t sure what kicks in first - the heartbreak, the fear, or her feet carrying her out of the TARDIS door. All she knows is that all three are in full effect as she races toward the Doctor, now lying motionless on the ground, in a desperate need to get her to safety.
She spares only one quick glance toward the Master’s own lifeless form, before scooping the Doctor up into her arms. She’s grateful to feel the Doctor latching onto her with the little strength she has left, and Yaz presses a gentle kiss to her cheek - to comfort the Doctor or herself, she isn’t sure. “You’re okay,” she whispers.
The Doctor’s presence has always been larger than the body that holds it, but only now does Yaz realise just how small the Doctor actually is. She shouldn’t be able to carry the universe, and yet it can be held in two arms with ease.
The walk back to the TARDIS is short, but with each step closer the true extent of what’s happening starts to sink in and, as she enters through the doors to the expectant eyes of the Doctor’s other friends, she again tries an attempt at comfort.
“She’s fine. She’s fine.”
The words come out less confident than she intended, and it’s clear that even Yaz herself doesn’t believe them. She lowers the Doctor to the floor with care as the others gather round but she doesn’t take her eyes off the woman in front of her.
The Doctor, however, does, and she glances along the familiar faces looking back at her with awe. “Extended fam.”
Her last look is reserved for Yaz, as is a small smile, before the Doctor submits to unconsciousness.
As much as Yaz doesn’t want to leave the Doctor’s side, she’s still acutely aware of the danger outside the TARDIS doors and she knows she’s the only one here who can pilot their way out. So she does so in silence, working her way around the console in sequence, inputting coordinates and hoping for the best. With one quick pull of the final lever, the TARDIS rumbles to life and Yaz pilots them through, landing with a soft thud a minute later.
She’s a little off her target, but given the course of emotion running through her veins right now, where she’s landed seems close enough.
“South London, present day,” she announces to the group. “No sign of impending threats.”
“That’s good enough for me, Yaz,” Graham replies. The rest of the group seems equally satisfied with the location, so Yaz quickly returns to join them by the Doctor’s side.
It takes a long time for Yaz to move after that. She vaguely registers the others getting up from the floor one by one, until she’s the only one left. It affords her the illusion of privacy, so she takes the Doctor by the hand and strokes her thumb over the back of it gently.
“You’re not alone.” The words are barely audible, but Yaz knows they’re loud enough for the Doctor to hear. She hopes the sentiment is loud enough, too. “You’re never alone.” The words almost get stuck in her throat but she manages to get them out.
There are so many other things she wants to say, but she doesn’t want them to be met by silence so she swallows them back down for now. She thinks - she hopes - that even if they’re never said, the Doctor knows already.
She continues to stroke the Doctor’s hand softly, and gives herself a moment to take her in. It’s a small comfort to see the Doctor’s face at rest after all of the distress and heartache Yaz has seen pass across it over the years. But she’s been lucky enough to see joy and hope written on it too and, most importantly, she knows what love looks like on that face. Even if they don’t have time, and if neither of them have ever explicitly said it, Yaz will never be in doubt that they had love.
It’s because she loves her that Yaz realises the Doctor’s head has been lying on the floor of the TARDIS unsupported, and the thought of her being in any way uncomfortable - especially at a time like this - is something she simply can’t entertain.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispers, giving the Doctor’s hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly getting to her feet again.
When she does, the others are watching her intently and there’s an air of something unspoken. Everyone can sense that the Doctor is in a worse way than she appears.
“She’s okay, for now,” Yaz says, and she hates the last two words but she can’t live in denial any longer. She needs to start processing it because, if she doesn’t, it’s going to hurt even more when it happens.
“Are you? ” Graham asks with concern, and they’re another two words that Yaz doesn’t enjoy.
“For her, I can be.”
Graham gives her a sad smile of understanding in return, along with a squeeze of her arm as she passes by to reach the compartment of the TARDIS that holds their bedding. She lifts out a cushion that she and the Doctor have both slept on multiple times and takes a deep breath to steady herself. Such a simple object should not be affecting her this much. And yet.
When she gets back to the Doctor’s side she’s exactly as Yaz had left her, and the lack of movement makes it even harder for her to keep holding it together. She places a hand carefully under the Doctor’s head before sliding the cushion underneath and laying her head on it. When she does, a few strands of the Doctor’s hair fall in front of her face and Yaz brushes them off to the side gently.
“Hopefully that’s better,” she says quietly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the Doctor’s forehead as she settles in to sit by her side again.
She loses track of time after that and isn’t sure how much of it passes before she’s startled by Ace standing beside her. She didn’t even hear her approach.
“Sorry Yaz, I really don’t want to interrupt but we’ve been talking and we all think it might be best if we give you both a little space.”
Yaz scrambles to her feet and she’s suddenly conscious that she’s not the only one who might have things to say to the Doctor. “Do you want some time with her before you go?”
Ace smiles and looks down at the Doctor, but shakes her head. “I’ve had my time with my Doctor. You deserve the rest of your time with yours. But I will say this to her… thank you.”
Yaz can feel the weight of Ace’s gratitude, and again wonders how two words can hold so much power. She lets the moment hang in the air so the sentiment can be felt, before adding one of her own. “Thank you, too. For all your help.”
“Never thought I’d get to do it again. It’s been brilliant.” Ace pauses for a second, before giving her a knowing smile. “And it’s good to know she’s loved, Yaz.”
From her tone, it’s obvious that Ace knows Yaz’s love is more than platonic but, unlike the panic she'd felt when Dan had pointed it out, she now feels a sense of pride knowing her love can be seen so plainly. “Yeah, she is.”
“You are, too. It’s clear in the way she looks at you.”
Yaz can’t blink away her tears fast enough this time and they fall without her permission, so she wipes them away and swallows down the rest of them. “I know.”
Before she met the Doctor, love wasn’t something she felt often or accepted easily, either from herself or others, so it’s freeing to be able to voice it aloud and know with certainty that it’s true.
However, the air feels a bit too heavy and Yaz isn’t quite ready to fully give in to her emotions just yet, so she deflects back to Ace’s reason for interrupting. “Although I don’t know if I’m capable of getting the coordinates right for four separate drop offs,” she smiles. “Might have to pick a midpoint and hope for the best.”
“You’ve already brought us back to the right country and year, we’ll all find our way home from here. Don’t worry.”
Yaz laughs. It’s nice to find new people who understand the chaos of the Doctor and the TARDIS without needing to explain or set expectations.
“You’re sure?”
“We’re sure,” Ace says, turning to the others. “Aren’t we?”
Tegan, Kate and Graham provide a group nod and chorus of affirmation in response.
Yaz regards them fondly. “Stay in touch, yeah?”
“Any friend of the Doctor is a friend of UNIT,” Kate says. “I’m sure this won’t be the last we see of each other.”
“But remember to take care of yourself,” Tegan adds, to which Yaz silently agrees.
Yaz steps back a little to allow each of them to have a moment with the Doctor, even if they won’t take more, but Graham hangs back with her and watches the scene play out.
“We’ve had some good times with the Doc, haven’t we?”
“Yeah,” Yaz chokes out and Graham wraps his arm around her shoulder to pull her in for a one armed hug.
“I know it doesn’t make things easier, Yaz, but for what it’s worth, I couldn’t be more thankful you’re still here. Both of you. Part of me was always so worried things would end differently.”
This time it’s only one word that’s needed for Yaz to feel the weight of its meaning.
End.
She tries to muster a response but it gets caught in her throat and a quiet sob escapes instead.
“Oh Yaz, come here.” Graham wraps her in a proper hug and she appreciates the opportunity to hide her face from view as her tears start to flow more openly. When her body starts to shake, Graham holds her just a little tighter. She doesn’t give in for long though and soon pulls back, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks as she puts her guard up again.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah? And tell Ryan he still owes me that FIFA rematch.”
“Will do. Though just between you and me, my money’s on you.”
Yaz laughs a little and Graham smiles. “You’ve got this, Yaz. She’ll be glad she’s with you.”
She knows Graham’s words are true, and that only makes them hit harder. “I’m glad I’m with her, too.”
Nothing more needs to be said, so Graham gives one last squeeze of her arm and joins the others as they walk toward the door. After a few last pleasantries, they’re gone, and Yaz closes the TARDIS door to return inside. Immediately the room feels empty, and the Doctor’s unmoving presence on the floor seems too small.
Yaz walks over to her, and sits down cross legged in the same spot as before. Although it feels a little selfish, she wastes no time in reaching out for the Doctor’s hand again. She wishes she could’ve held it more often and wants to keep doing so while she can.
The room is still and it gives Yaz a chance to process the events of the day. Mainly, that she’d watched the Doctor being forced to regenerate, and how she’d screamed her name in what she thought were her final moments. Yaz has never, ever heard the Doctor’s voice sound so broken or desperate, and she knows that particular sound will be recurring in her nightmares for a long time to come.
She’s also sure that the sheer terror on the Doctor’s face had been reflected on her own as she watched the woman she loves turn into someone who symbolises everything she isn’t. Even knowing that she managed to stand up to him as he dared to take her place, Yaz has to accept that she’s never been more scared in her life.
But then she remembers the feeling of her Doctor reappearing and the overwhelming relief she’d felt when she’d reached out for her behind the glass. There was a barrier between them then, so Yaz holds her hand just a little tighter now to make up for it.
These quiet moments are borrowed time now, she knows that. She doesn’t even want to contemplate what would’ve happened if she’d been unable to reverse the regeneration and her Doctor had been lost for good. To lose her that way would’ve been devastating and, for much of the day, Yaz genuinely thought she had. To have her here now, even if their minutes together are ticking away, is a gift.
She thinks again about the things left unsaid and decides that she needs to say them. Even if the Doctor can’t respond, Yaz holds out hope that maybe, somehow, she can at least listen. Even if she doesn’t consciously remember it.
She really doesn’t know how to put everything she feels into words, so she decides to start with something she’s already said.
“You’re still not alone.” She needs the Doctor to know that. She needs her to understand that she’s there and she’s not going anywhere. “'I'm with you, whatever happens’ remember? Gonna take more than Daleks, Cybermen, the Master and a reversed forced regeneration to get rid of me." She tries to make a joke out of it, but it comes out with more of a sob than a laugh.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she releases it.
“This is so hard,” she admits, voice cracking. “Glad I’m doing this when you can’t reply. Not sure I’ll get through it otherwise. And not just because I usually can’t get a word in edgeways.”
The lack of reply to her banter is louder than any response the Doctor ever could’ve given and it sobers Yaz completely. She sets humour to the side and gets to the point.
“I love you.” It’s the first time she’s said those words out loud to the Doctor, but they already feel at home on her tongue and as soon as they’re free, Yaz feels the same.
“Have done for a while, but I think you know that already. Or at least I hope you do. If you remember one thing I say, I hope it’s that. Because Doctor, you are so, so loved.”
Her voice trembles with every word and she pauses to take another steadying breath before continuing.
“And the things you’ve shown me…” She swallows down a lump in her throat. “Who else can say they’ve been to the bottom of the ocean? Or met Rosa Parks? Or helped save the universe?” Her smile reaches watery eyes. “But it’s not just those big adventures. Seeing the world through your eyes has changed me. You find excitement everywhere. You were even excited about the view from my flat and the fact we have a sofa,” she laughs.
Speaking honestly is coming easy to her, so she admits something she never thought she’d say out loud. “Always hoped we’d get one of our own one day. I like to think that maybe there’s a version of us out there somewhere that has one. And, yes, before you ask, of course it’s purple.”
Her words are again met with silence, but it doesn’t feel as heavy now that she’s leaning into the opportunity to speak candidly.
“But I don’t want you to feel bad that you couldn’t give me that. I know it’s not your fault. And what you did give me is far more than I could ever have asked for. You’ve given me purpose and friendship and helped me accept who I am and that’s… it’s…” She struggles to find the right words to finish that sentence before settling for another admission, maybe bigger than the rest. ”You saved me, really.”
Yaz is only fully aware of the tears on her cheeks when a few reach her chin and drip onto their joined hands in her lap. With her free hand she frantically wipes them away and starts to wrap things up.
“You were right when you said it’d hurt to fix yourself to someone. But it’s been worth it, Doctor. Every last second of it, and however many we still have left. Every single one has been worth it.”
As the last words leave her lips it feels like a weight is lifted off her shoulders. Of course, she knows the hardest part is yet to come, but she’ll deal with that when it arrives. For now, she lies down by the Doctor’s side, shifting her grip slightly so her fingers are resting on the inside of the Doctor's wrist, and concentrates on the steady rhythm of two hearts beating.
Together they’ve faced and overcome countless obstacles and yet, for Yaz, perhaps the most difficult of them all is the simple act of waiting. Because the only enemy left now is time, and they both know it can’t be defeated. It’s just a matter of when, not if.
But there’s comfort in the peace of it all, and she silently appreciates the Doctor’s presence at her side. She closes her eyes and recalls memories of their time together. There are many, and she remembers them with a soft smile. She loses track of time as she replays their adventures back in her mind, falling deeper into gratitude for the woman beside her.
She’s not sure how long it’s been before it occurs to her that, over time, memories fade, and she doesn’t want to lose a single moment she shared with the Doctor. So, she rises to her feet and finds the notebook she’s kept in the console room that holds Post-Its and tips on flying the TARDIS. Even holding that wealth of information, there are still some empty pages, so Yaz finds a pen, takes a seat on the edge of the step beside the Doctor and writes. She starts at the beginning with the train and the crane and the Doctor’s clothes. The receipt from that day is still in her bedroom, and she makes a mental note to find it later.
She writes and writes and writes, glancing up at the Doctor every time a particularly fond memory arises. It isn’t much of a surprise that she spends just as much time looking at the Doctor as she does at the book. Eventually though, she runs out of space and gets to her feet again to place it back in its safe space, planning to find another book to start to fill.
However, as she’s having a quick check of the console to make sure everything’s still as it should be, she hears the Doctor take an audible breath and stir behind her.
Under any other circumstances, the sound of the Doctor coming back to life would have relief washing over her, but in this context, she knows it’s the beginning of the end. She steels herself and resolves to stay strong for the Doctor’s sake. The Doctor doesn’t need to worry about her too, when her own life is coming to an end.
“Did we do it?”
She looks at the Doctor, who’s still staring up at the roof, and wonders how she’s ever going to do this.
“We did it,” she says, keeping her tone light. “Well, you did it.”
It’s only then the Doctor moves to get up and notices that only Yaz is present. “Where is everyone?”
“I took them home.”
“Did you?” Yaz doesn’t miss the air of pride in the Doctor’s voice, even before she adds ner next words. “That’s clever.”
She decides not to take too much credit, given that her trip didn’t exactly go according to plan, so again replies with something light. “Well… Croydon, so close enough.”
By now, the Doctor is standing again, looking a little bewildered, and Yaz takes a few steps closer to her.
“How long was I out?”
Yaz doesn’t know the honest answer to that question, just that it equals the amount of time she’s had to start to come to terms with what’s about to happen. “A while.”
The next two events happen in quick succession, and both make Yaz’s stomach drop. The Cloister Bell sounds first, only seconds before the Doctor takes a shaky step forward and stumbles into Yaz’s arms.
She catches her, of course, because she’d never let her fall.
But she can’t look at her and she keeps her head up, not wanting to see something that indicates it’s time to let go. Though her resolve only lasts for a second when she notices how disorientated the Doctor is, and she brings her gaze down.
“Why’s the Cloister Bell ringing?”
Yaz’s gaze continues down further still and, when it reaches the glow of the Doctor’s hand, it feels like a physical blow to the chest. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real. She thought she was somewhat prepared, but she understands now that she never could have properly prepared for this.
“Doctor… look at your hand.”
Watching the realisation wash over the Doctor’s face is almost worse than accepting it for herself. Neither of them want to part. Both of them want more time. And then, in true Doctor fashion, Yaz is the one being comforted with a smile and, despite the overwhelming sense of loss in her heart, the Doctor has her laughing through her tears.
They're getting one last trip but it really doesn't matter where they go.
Because she looks at the Doctor through blurry eyes and knows that, here and now, at the end of everything, together is exactly where they’re meant to be.