Chapter Text
It had been three weeks since Yaz stepped out of the TARDIS for what she hoped wouldn’t be forever. But as much as Yaz yearned for more, no amount of wishing and dreaming would change the fact that the Doctor, her Doctor, was gone.
The mechanics of regeneration and Time Lord lore was not something Yaz was entirely clued in on, but from what little conversations she’d had with the Doctor, she knew that once their time came to an end, a new face would stand in their place. There was no choice in the matter. A lottery of endless personalities and appearances.
And that seemed to be the worst part of all. All the history they shared; the adventures; the victories; the laughs; the woes; the quiet, intimate moments between the two of them that neither were quite brave enough to explore further; all of those memories that once filled Yaz with hope, empowerment and adoration now left her hollow. Subdued as time fleeted by her.
Time. That funny concept. It once meant so little to her. A factor she rarely considered amid her tenure through space – in a time machine no less. Time didn’t scare her then as much it did now.
The temporal existence of time hung over her head during those last few adventures with the Doctor. Yaz truly believed that if she ignored the pressing, inescapable ticking of the clock that was intent on driving them apart then they wouldn’t have had to say goodbye. Or at least, not so soon.
What a fool she had been.
Of course, the Doctor was not dead. Yaz was more than aware of that tiny, insignificant detail. She’d certainly heard it enough at the support group for those who had been fortunate – or unfortunate - enough to meet this extraordinary being. The Doctor had lived countless lifetimes, she understood that. And yet, none of her newfound acquaintances could ever fathom the connection that she had shared with hers.
That entanglement was forever theirs for Yaz to cherish because while Mel and Ace, and even Graham, had their affinities for the Doctor, none of them had faced the heartache that Yaz had gone through. They’d never gotten to know the Doctor on the level that she did. Maybe that was her own fault for letting herself get so invested, so involved with what was clearly beyond what she could handle or begin to comprehend.
But the Doctor had reciprocated, hadn’t she? Those feelings Yaz held so close to her heart weren’t unrequited; the Doctor had told her as much anyway. Perhaps she was merely trying to appease Yaz. She knew her time was coming to an end and that was her way of letting the younger woman down easily. Maybe she believed that would make their inevitable farewell easier, but Yaz knew better.
“I wish this would go on forever,” the Doctor told her.
She could make up any scenario in her head that she wanted to. Try to convince herself that there was no affection in the Doctor’s eyes whenever she looked at Yaz; that her whole demeanour didn’t brighten whenever Yaz was in her general vicinity; that she didn’t put the fate of the universe on hold just to hug Yaz after they were separated for a painful duration of time.
Whatever comfort Yaz tried to provide herself with was futile. Even if the Doctor didn’t say it, she was never the best at expressing her emotions, Yaz knew she meant just as much to the Time Lord as she did to Yaz – much to her mother’s dismay.
Najia Khan was a force to be reckoned with. She loved fiercely. If Yaz didn’t know any better, she’d be confident her mother would go to war for her family, but she did know better and she knew her mother was anything but a physical fighter. Nevertheless, Najia Khan still retained the ability to make even the strongest of men cower.
After everything Yaz had gone through in her teens, no one dared cross her or her family again for fear of Najia’s wrath. Even Sonya watched her tongue around her mother.
Yaz could recall the Doctor sheepishly admitting that of all the aliens, cyborgs, monsters and demons she had faced, nothing struck fear in her quite like Najia. The Doctor had learned very quickly that she’d rather not be on the receiving end of a Najia lecture, or the stern raise of an eyebrow, or pursed lips expecting an explanation. In fact, Yaz had never seen the Doctor more determined to get on someone’s good side than she had whenever the Time Lord was in the presence of her mum.
When one miscalculated journey had Yaz stumbling through the door three hours late to her mother’s 50th after the Doctor explicitly promised to have her back with plenty time to spare, the Doctor experienced the joy of Najia’s fury firsthand.
Admittedly, it wasn’t the worst Yaz had seen her mother. All she had done was give the Doctor her best glare throughout the entire evening as well as the silent treatment, which drove the blonde close to insanity as she took it upon herself to fill in the silence with everything and anything she could think of.
Two years ago
“And that, Yaz’s mum, is how pre-revolutionary France came to be on a spaceship,” the Doctor spoke so fast it was a wonder she wasn’t panting by the end of her story.
Najia looked positively scandalised. It would’ve been hilarious if she wasn’t still under the impression that the Doctor was just her daughter’s oddball travelling friend who was absolutely under no circumstances an alien.
Yaz barked out a laugh from her place beside the Doctor, almost flinching at how false she sounded.
“Don’t she tell the most amazing stories, mum? I’m always saying she should get started on that novel with an imagination like hers.”
The Doctor’s brow furrowed in confusion only to meet Yaz’s pleading eyes. A sharp elbow nudged the blonde when she failed to sense the tone. The older woman nodded slowly. She looked between Yaz’s almost pained expression and Najia’s narrowed gaze, who was seemingly studying the pair.
“Love a story me. Not a true story, mind you. Totally, wholeheartedly made up. Fictional,” she snapped her fingers like the word just came to her.
“How could pre-revolutionary France be on a spaceship, right? And murderous clockwork humanoids? Definitely never encountered ‘em, but,” Yaz and Najia jumped at the sudden rise in volume. Hands gesturing a mile a minute, “glass of wine does the trick if you want to buy some time.”
“Or so I’ve heard,” the blonde trailed off quietly after her enthusiasm went unmatched. “Not that wine would be much use to you… Cause you don’t drink, which is brilliant. Never understood humans and their alcohol. Can’t have fun without it, can’t have fun at all I say, and me and Yaz have loads of fun without touching a single drop.”
Yaz bit back a groan.
One look at the Doctor’s face though, filled with pure innocence, and any frustration she felt had dissipated. The Doctor looked proud of herself, thinking she’d led Najia off the scent without realising the older Khan was now just bewildered rather than annoyed. Yaz saw that as a win.
Yaz felt her stomach flutter when the Doctor looked at her with a shy smile and shrug of her shoulders. The blonde’s hands went into her jacket pockets, which Yaz knew was for her own comfort and to stop herself from fidgeting.
All Yaz wanted to do was pull her into her arms and hold her tight. The efforts made by the Doctor to impress Yaz’s family were never lost on the younger woman.
“Right,” Najia drawled out. “Yasmin, give your dad a hand in the kitchen. I want to hear more of these… Stories.”
There was something in her tone that had Yaz worried, but the firmness she’d spoken with left no room for arguments.
The brunette glanced at the Doctor, none the wiser to Najia’s intentions. Instead, she looked delighted. A wide grin taking pride of place. If Yaz wasn’t wary of leaving the Doctor with her mother, the blonde’s whispered “brilliant” would have melted her insides.
With a squeeze to the Doctor’s arm, Yaz made her to way the kitchen, unable to stop herself from looking back. Though she wasn’t exactly out of earshot, her dad’s pottering blocked out any sound from the living room.
“Yasmin!” Hakim was genuinely pleased his daughter had joined him. “Get those dishes done, would you? Sonya abandoned me in my desperate time of need.”
Any other time Yaz would have laughed, but her focus remained on the two people who meant most to her in the next room. From this angle she couldn’t see them without dripping soapy water along the floor, which she didn’t think her father would take too kindly to.
Considering it had only been the five of them for dinner, Hakim cooked enough to feed a small army, the number of dishes seemed infinite. Just when Yaz thought she was nearing the bottom of the sink, another fork appeared from the depths. They really needed to invest in a dishwasher.
It felt like an eternity later when Yaz placed the last piece of cutlery on the draining board. She dried her hands at lightning speed and made her way back to the Doctor, ignoring her dad’s playful protests.
In the living room, the Doctor stood awkwardly by the door leading to the hallway. Her mother nowhere to be seen.
The Doctor shifted. Hands twisting in front of her with an anxious expression on her face. She looked to be deep in thought until she clocked Yaz. When their eyes met the Doctor’s whole body language changed. Her shoulders dropped as if relieved of pressure, eyes conveying nothing but… Well, Yaz didn’t want to get her hopes up. Dimples graced her cheeks when she smiled.
“Yaz,” she breathed out.
The woman in question scanned the room quickly. Where did her mum go?
She stopped in front of the Doctor.
“Where’s mum?”
As the Doctor opened her mouth to reply, Najia waltzed in from the hallway carrying a rectangular object in her hands. It took all of two seconds for Yaz to figure out what it was and her expression turned from concerned to horrified.
“Mum, no!” She’d adopted a high pitch.
Najia scoffed before rolling her eyes.
“Oh shush, Yasmin. It’s about time I get to show off my children.” Najia sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside her. “Come along, Doctor.”
The Doctor, bless her hearts, at least looked conflicted. Yaz could see the cogs turning over and over in her head: stand in solidarity with Yaz or obey her intimidating mother.
“Um…” Blonde hair whipped in the air as she contemplated both options.
Najia gave her an expectant glare.
Thankfully, or not depending on how you viewed the situation at hand, Hakim made his exit from the kitchen, whistling.
“Why are we all- ooh pictures,” it was nearly comical how quick he was to catch on.
“Doctor, has Yaz told you about the time she wanted to be a hairdresser? Cut hers and Sonya’s hair into shaggy pixie cuts when she were about eight. Think there’s still evidence in that book there.” He nodded to the album that sat opened on his wife’s lap.
The Doctor snapped her head to face Yaz, eyes gleaming with delight.
Yaz opened her mouth to defend herself, or usher the Doctor out, but the older woman practically skipped her way over to the sofa, flopping down beside Najia. She knew fighting this battle would be a lost cause and resigned herself to sitting on the opposite lounge chair, Hakim moving to hover over Najia.
The brunette locked onto the Doctor, unable to tear her gaze from the wondrous woman who had stolen her heart. She watched as the Doctor took her time to study each photo, taking in every single word Najia was saying. The timeline varied from the days after Yaz’s birth to her secondary school prom. An affection smile had taken hold of the Doctor’s features, eyes soft.
Yaz could feel herself blushing when she saw the Doctor reach out to gently stroke a photo with her finger. What it was she had no idea, having drowned out all noise whilst she admired her friend. She was lost in her own world right now, so much so that she didn’t register three sets of eyes that were now on her.
It was the Doctor springing up from the sofa that caught her attention. Yaz noticed her mother had put the now closed album on the table before her – how long had Yaz been staring? She knew Najia had just said something, but she hadn’t tuned back in yet.
“Uh,” she stuttered, trying not meet the Doctor’s concerned gaze.
Najia threw her a bone. “I said I think it’s time the Doctor best be off.” Again, there was no room for argument. The Doctor would be leaving now whether she wanted to or not.
A quick check of the clock above the fireplace. 10.47pm. Right.
Yaz stood and immediately came chest to chest with the Doctor. When had she gotten so close? The other woman had the decency to blush and take a step back, muttering an apology. Yaz missed the contact straight away.
“I’ll just,” their eyes met. Yaz felt her breath catch at the sight of dazzling green orbs. “I’ll walk you out.” She finished quietly.
She swore the Doctor’s eyes dipped to her lips.
The Doctor cleared her throat and nodded, feet shifting as she looked down at them.
“Right, course.” The blonde turned to Najia and Hakim. “Thanks for a lovely dinner.” The words sounded rehearsed.
“I hope y’ad a lovely birthday, Yaz’s mum. Had a lovely time me.” She scrunched her face. “Too much lovely?”
God, she was adorable. How was this the same person who had threatened Daleks?
Hakim laughed. “Always a pleasure, Doctor.” He smiled warmly.
Yaz could tell the Doctor appreciated it if the breath she released was anything to go by. Her mum, on the other hand, remained impartial.
“Right then,” the Doctor turned back to Yaz. “Shall we?”
Yaz gave a small nod and moved to lead the Doctor out. They were stopped in their tracks by Najia.
“Doctor?” She called out.
Both women turned in the doorway.
“You’ll remember what we spoke about?” It wasn’t a question. The warning was clear as day in her tone.
Yaz looked between her mum and the Doctor. Confused. She saw the Doctor swallow anxiously before she gave a tight nod.
“Always.”
With that, the Doctor walked into the hallway ahead of Yaz, leaving her to follow behind. Ever the loyal companion. They took slow, soft steps towards the front door until coming to a stop before it.
The pair stood opposite one another. The air hadn’t grown unpleasant, but something lingered.
The Doctor smiled tightly. Hands tucked in her pockets.
“Sorry I made you late.”
Yaz tried to chuckle. “‘S alright. Not like you have a time machine or anything.”
The Doctor, again, was relieved Yaz had made light of it, but her eyes didn’t quite shine like they usually do. A moment of silence fell between them.
“Y’know you don’t have to stick around with me if you don’t want? Family’s important and all.”
Where on earth had that come from? Once more, Yaz tried to make light. She could sense the weight of the conversation wouldn’t be one to have by the front door with her parents – and Sonya – just a few feet away.
“Why wouldn’t I want to stick around with ya? Told you before, you’re like the best person I’ve ever met.”
The Doctor smiled.
More silence.
“Right, best be leavin’ then,” the Doctor said, pulling the handle to open the door.
She gave Yaz one last look before heading out into the corridor. The blonde made it about three steps away before Yaz called her back.
“What’d my mum say, Doctor? When you were alone with her?” Yaz pulled the door so that it was halfway shut, her body wedged between the frame and the door.
There was that smile again. The one that told Yaz not to worry. That the Doctor could handle it. She seemed to be considering her words until they made eye contact.
“Just know that if I were to ever place a bet on Najia Khan destroying a Dalek, my odds would be pretty outstanding.”
Yaz snorted. She hadn’t answered her question, but Yaz wasn’t going to push when she clearly didn’t seem comfortable to address the topic.
Present Day
What Yaz wouldn’t give to have the Doctor over at the flat again for dinner with her family. She’d never found out what it was her mother said to the Doctor that night, but she had a pretty good idea after Najia promptly blew a fuse when Yaz walked through the door three weeks ago.
It’d been less than four hours since she’d saw the Doctor for the last time and just 45 minutes since the support group meeting had concluded. Dan had offered up a shoulder to cry on over a coffee, but all Yaz wanted – besides the Doctor – was to curl up in bed and sleep for a decade – if her mind would let her.
Seconds after she’d entered the flat, however, she was met by Najia exiting the living room at the sound of the door closing. No words were shared. She just took one look at her daughter’s tear-stained cheeks and red eyes to speculate what had happened.
“What’s she done now?” Najia was fuming.
“I warned her. I bloody warned her what would happen if I saw you shed another tear.” She didn’t listen to Yaz’s insistence that she stop. “Where is she? Wherever it is she better hope it’s far enough because I am going to wring her neck when I see her.”
Najia kept going. Only when Yaz raised her voice did she stop.
“It weren’t her fault, mum. She didn’t want…” Yaz had to consider her next words carefully. “It just… It weren’t her fault.” Her voice broke and Najia rushed towards her, wrapping her arms around Yaz as her daughter crumbled into her.
The memory was something Yaz hated that she’d forever share with her mum. She imagined the sight of her heartbroken daughter was enough for Najia to justify her reaction, but Yaz didn’t want her mother to hold hatred for the woman Yaz had fallen head over heels for. It wasn’t what the Doctor deserved. Not after all that they’d been through.
She’d never fully explained where the Doctor had gone. Only that she had to go away, and she wouldn’t be coming back, but Yaz made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t in the Doctor’s control and that she could never be angry at the Time Lord for making a decision for their relationship – or lack of.
For all she herself had been through over the last several years, Yaz thought she’d done a fairly decent job at keeping her emotions at bay recently. Except for the sleepless nights she’d spent silently sobbing into her pillow, or the wave of sadness that flooded her body whenever something reminded her of the Doctor.
It was only two days ago she’d had to abandon her shopping trolley in the middle of the supermarket because she spotted a packet of custard creams. What was supposed to be a quick food shop turned into Yaz sitting in her car in the car park for two and a half hours, tears streaming down her face.
Sometimes, she’d venture outside when she was sure everyone had gone to sleep just to look at the stars. It was both a consolation and devastation to know that the Doctor was probably somewhere out there. Another doe-eyed follower wandering the halls of the TARDIS.
Would the Doctor teach them to fly like she did Yaz? Would the TARDIS welcome them on board and put her trust into them like she did Yaz?
Yaz knew those thoughts were far from healthy. Yet, she couldn’t help but humour that deeply rooted morbid fixation. Maybe she could live vicariously through her imagination. If only she didn’t have to. If she’d only stood her ground that day, refused to leave the Doctor to suffer alone.
Had she suffered? Was regenerating painful? Could Yaz have held her hand through the process? Whispered comforting reassurances as she transformed from the quirky blonde with a bad biscuit habit to a stranger? Would whoever she became still want Yaz? Would Yaz still want them?
The thoughts were uncontrollable. And Yaz was powerless to stop them from festering. Did she want to? That was a question she was terrified to answered.
So, as she laid atop her bed, legs dangling over the end, arms crossed above her head and an expressionless look upon her face, Yaz let herself get lost inside her head. It became a regular occurrence for her to spend hours locked away in her bedroom. Every so often her parents and sister would knock with the gentle request that she join them. Sometimes she would. Sometimes she’d leave the flat and go for a run. Sometimes she’d ponder where her life was going.
Yaz had given up everything to travel with the Doctor. There was no job waiting for her anymore. Her boss had coerced her into resigning from the police after one too many absences; he’d claimed it was a better look than firing her. Meanwhile, Ryan had set off on his own adventures around the world, Graham joining him on a handful of occasions. Dan had no plans to leave Liverpool. All Yaz had was a missed call from Kate Stewart and the chance of a fresh start at UNIT.
Okay, so it wasn’t like she was at a total dead end. Kate had left her with a very generous offer. A six-figure salary and the opportunity to contribute to world-saving events. It’d be just like the time she’d spent with the Doctor except with more rules and guns, and no confusing emotions.
Kate had given no deadline for a response and Yaz was grateful to the woman, truly. But she wasn’t sure she could go back to the life she once lived without the Doctor by her side. Of course, Kate had said they’d probably have the odd run-in with the Time Lord. And that was partially hindering Yaz’s decision.
Could she handle seeing them again? Would the Doctor feel betrayed that she’d gone with UNIT and not them? Would the Doctor care? Yaz didn’t know if she could handle the truth.
Her musings were interrupted by incessant knocking at her front door. The doorbell following suit. Someone was desperate.
“Son, you get that?” She called out.
Silence.
“Sonya!”
Silence.
Either her sister was blissfully unaware of their unexpected visitor, was purposefully ignoring them, or she’d gone out.
It was a pot luck, really.
Yaz let out a grunt of annoyance and begrudgingly got up. She marched her way to the door, not checking through the peephole and swung it open with more force than necessary. The person on the other side jumped back a little.
As Yaz registered who was standing before her, she froze. Her jaw dropped. Hand tightened against the handle. Actions beyond her control.