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Entry tags:
fic: Doctor Who, Never Very Long, PG
fandom: Doctor Who
disclaimer: not mine
genre: gen, spec, AU, angst, friendship
characters: Nyssa of Trakken, Nine, others
pairing warning: Nyssa/Olvir, accidentally.
length: 100 words. No, wait, I kid. 4200+ words.
rating: PG
spoilers: just for Time War stuff. Oh, and Terminus.
notes: So. Once upon a time,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
palmetto made a comment that make me think of writing a random crack!fic drabble. 4000 words later, it's not a drabble and it's definitely not crack!fic. Soundtrack: 'One of These Mornings' by Moby featuring Patti LaBelle. And some Tool.
one of these mornings
it won't be very long
they will look for me
and I'll be gone
Never Very Long
by ALC Punk!
It's a sound she hasn't heard in far too many years. The echo of the past that brings her head up from the microscope as she listens. As though straightening will make it easier to hear, to pinpoint.
There.
"I'm taking a break," she murmurs to Karryn, the lab assistant Olvir hired when the work got too much for her on her own.
Karryn barely acknowledges her with a wave of a hand.
Slipping out into the lock from clean room to open air, Nyssa of Trakken pauses to remove the clean suit (cobbled together second-hand, of course, like everything on Terminus) and run fingers through her hair. There's no grey in it yet, but sometimes she wonders if she'd gone with him if there would be.
A man like him could drive anyone old before their time.
He's waiting in the mess, slouched against the wall, head down. She takes a moment to study him before stepping inside, noting that he's changed again, that there's something fragile about him. Something different.
"Can anyone have a cup of tea here, or is there a line?" he asks, head coming up and lips stretching into a charming grin.
-*-
It takes a cup and a half of tea before he asks her how she's doing. Nyssa's not surprised, he's kept up a patter of complete nonsense, persons, places, things that have nothing to do with her (and less to do with him unless she misses her guess).
She doesn't lie. "You were right that it would be hard."
"I'm always right," he jokes, something dark in his eyes before he looks away, peering into his cup as though it contains all the wonders of the universe.
"Not always, Doctor," Nyssa objects, standing to check on the tea kettle. They have to be careful not to leave it too long on the hot plate or it develops micro-fissures, cracks that can't be repaired. And the last time they had to replace a kettle it took four months of haggling and Nyssa threatening the trader with a gun to get it.
"Sometimes always."
A laugh escapes her and she puts the kettle to the side, "Are you hungry?"
"I could do with a bit of mash, yeah."
-*-
There's no crisis here. Nyssa knows this because she lives here, and while there are occasional crises, there's nothing like there once was. The Doctor fixed the drives and Terminus will never re-start the universe again. It's not much of a hospital ship anymore, of course. Once they'd worked out the proper levels of radiation and treatment for the disease, the Company was able to manufacture facilities anywhere they had a foot-hold.
Nyssa tells him all of this over the course of the meal. Discussing pathogens, blood types and hostile corporate takeovers seems normal to her.
She wonders, as they both fall silent afterwards, why he's there.
-*-
She puts him in one of the spare rooms, apologizing for the dust and making sure he's got a blanket. Heading back to the lab to put her unfinished notes away, she runs into Karryn looking perplexed.
"Did you know there's a blue box in corridor Alpha-B?" Karryn's hands move, describing the shape in a nervous movement that's never present in the lab. As though she can contain herself only for so long.
"Must be one of Olvir's left-over packing crates," suggests Nyssa, unwilling to delve into the whys and hows. It's a feeble excuse, but better than the truth. Time travel is still viewed as a myth, even with Terminus as a museum example of the possibilities. And explaining that an old friend has turned up and who he is doesn't seem worth the effort.
After all, Nyssa considers as she dons the clean suit again, she expects him to be gone before morning.
-*-
She's forgotten he's there in the morning.
Going through her notes, she tries to remember why her progress report cuts off halfway through. She turns to ask Karryn and suddenly remembers. "Oh dear."
"Something wrong on your calculations?"
"No." Laughing at herself, she puts her notes away again and slides off her stool, "I'll be back in a little while, I need to check something."
"If it's the tea kettle, I pulled it off before coming in here."
So had Nyssa.
-*-
The radiation levels by the old drives are mostly normal, now. Sometimes, people still see things walking through--ghosts of the past, or the people who died over the years. Ghosts from another universe, too.
"I thought he'd still be here," he says, leather jacket squeaking a little as he pokes through a pile of scrap Olvir hasn't sold for supplies yet.
Nyssa brushes a hand over the broken plexi-steel of the window into the past and says, not looking at him, "We found him a better place. He's happy and there are children." It's mostly the truth. She smiles slightly, "He sends letters every so often, when he can remember we wonder about him and Olvir can pay the courier."
In the end, Olvir, who'd wanted nothing to do with the Company, the plague or the cure, had been the one who'd stuck round the longest.
"Who taught him to write?"
"I did." It had seemed the least she could do. Payment for his help, in a coin that would earn him a better living than moving dead bodies or waste from place to place.
"That was kind of you."
"Would you have expected otherwise?" Perhaps her voice is a little sharp, but a part of her has been waiting to feel the other shoe drop. She's heard stories about him, here in Terminus with its echoes and ghosts. People die. People always die when he's around.
"No, yes, I--" he looks at a loss for an instant, then the grin returns. "Would you like a cuppa?"
Out here? There's nothing to make tea with, and Nyssa wonders at the flash of guilt in his eyes. What have you done now, Doctor? It can't be worse than letting Adric die, and she'd gotten over that long ago. She touches his arm, feeling the leather, real and solid and warm beneath her fingers, "I might even be able to scare up some biscuits."
"D'you have the ones with the currants in them? I've been dying for one for ages."
-*-
Nyssa abandons him to the mess and the pile of old reports that she's been meaning to read and toss. She has a lab to run and experiments to finish, even if she does have a guest. He never wrote, asking to visit, after all. And she has her own life to live.
The work swallows her whole, her brain running faster than a kilometer a second. It's always been that way, even when she was seven, standing at her father's side and measuring out juice and water rather than the acids and bases he used. There's an enzyme to synthesize, a refinement to it that will make it that much more efficient. The Company might actually pay her for it, if she can patent it before they realize she's finished it, at least.
Karryn's silent for a few hours before her obvious curiosity gets the better of her. "Who is he?"
The question no one has ever quite answered. Nyssa smiles a bit mysteriously as she glances sideways, "An old friend."
"He didn't come on the last shuttle."
It would have been hard for him to do so, given the last shuttle had been four months ago. Nyssa shakes her head, making another notation.
"So, what's in the blue box?"
Karryn's always been bright, it's why Nyssa hired her. Right now, though, she wishes she weren't so observant. "All the secrets of the universe."
A snort. "You're not going to tell me."
"No."
They all have to have their secrets, after all.
-*-
Karryn joins them for supper, and the Doctor regales them both with tales from planets Karryn only half-believes in. Nyssa drinks the stories up to store for later, when Olvir gets back. He'll be amused by them as much as she is. But then, they've both seen things that were impossible--Nyssa more so than most.
After tea and the last of the biscuits, Nyssa and Karryn take him at poker and half a dozen card games he claims to be excellent at.
It's only after Nyssa wins his jacket that his luck changes. A little. She laughs as he wins it back, shrugging it off and missing the warmth almost immediately. The game eventually ends with all of them back where they were, and Karryn takes herself to bed, complaining about her boss and early morning lab results.
The silence that falls is comfortable and Nyssa leans back in her chair, her mug of tea cold but something to hold.
With her eyes nearly closed, she can believe she's alone in the room, save the occasional sound of his breathing, the rasp of the leather as it moves and the eventual scrape from his chair when he stands.
"I should--"
"Do you ever sleep?" she teases softly, "I think Tegan once decided you didn't."
He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, "Check things in the TARDIS. Back in a tick."
"I won't wait up," she says to the empty room after she's cleaned away their dishes. She stopped waiting for him a long time ago. She wonders if he knows that.
-*-
The routine sets in, and it's a little strange, a little domestic, and not the sort of thing she'd ever expected from the Doctor. She and Karryn work, he joins them for supper and conversation. Mostly, they discuss universal politics, the gains and losses of the company and the myriad worlds he's visited. Sometimes, Nyssa talks of the worlds she knows. Karryn mocks them both, but brings her own stories of being the eldest of four, and how her mother had to work to see them all fed.
At 'night', he disappears to the TARDIS--the room Nyssa showed him to has never been slept in. Nyssa doesn't ask where he goes. Or even if he goes. She simply notes that he's back when she finds the kettle half-filled with water or a tea cup left on the counter, as though he'd been thinking of other things as he walked away.
Sometimes, she thinks he's exploring Terminus from stem to stern, learning ever nook and cranny as though building a map of the universe as it was.
Sometimes, she thinks it's just an excuse.
And some mornings, when there's no tea left in the kettle, she thinks rather uncharitably that she got on rather better when he wasn't around.
-*-
Finished with her experiments early one day, she wanders until she finds him, this time in the secondary control room, on his back under the console.
"There's mostly dust under there now."
"I've noticed."
Feeling strangely awkward, she shifts from foot to foot, "Olvir and I stripped it for parts to sell two years ago."
He crawls out from under, playing with a lone wire as he sort of sits there, hunched around his knees. He's about the same height he was before, but he's more gangly, less grown into himself, as though at any moment, he might jump out of his skin.
"You're one of the only ones, you know," he says suddenly, his tone odd.
Nyssa stops fidgeting, "Ones what?"
"Who will remember it. As it was, as it would be as it will have never..." he trails off, staring at the wire in his hands.
This. This here. She sucks in a breath, lets it out, "Tell me."
"I killed them all." the words are bitten off as though he's angry--at her, at himself, at this nameless them--his head comes up and the darkness in his eyes is worse than anything she's ever seen.
The echoes of the entropy which ate the edges of the universe are there, trying to swallow her whole. "What did you do, Doctor?" Her voice cracks from the intensity in the room and she doesn't feel weak for letting him get to her. He never frightened when he was young, except for once...
"What I had to."
He used to say, she thought, that the ends never justified the means. Moving carefully, she knelt and touched his shoulder, "Who will I remember?"
"Gallifrey." The word is torn from him, his head dropping as though waiting for her condemnation.
A shiver goes through her. Gallifrey, the home of the Time Lords. A place so powerful it had taken a near-god to attempt to topple it once upon a time. "What happened?"
"The Daleks. But I got them, I got them all--" now he's vicious, his head coming up, his eyes bright, "--they'll never bother the universe again."
"But the price," she guesses.
"Everything has a price, Nyssa. You simply have to decide how you want to pay it."
-*-
When he doesn't join them for supper, Nyssa jokes that he's tired of their company and leaves Karryn to clean up the dishes on her own. She doesn't go looking for him, not this time. The enormity of what he'd told her hurts in a way she can't articulate, can barely comprehend.
She left him in the secondary control room, walking away numb and only able to understand that she had to get away. Her lab had seemed a refuge and Karryn hadn't even asked why she was back when she'd been finished.
There'd been no break-through, but the solid, steady work had grounded her enough to smile during their meal.
But now, curled in her own bed, there's no solace, only the ache. She wonders if this was why he came here, to break her peace and find something like forgiveness from someone who understood.
Except that she doesn't. She can't.
He lost his world. She lost hers. But there's a difference. A fundamental difference that keeps her awake until it's nearly morning and her eyes are heavy with sleep. He chose his path, she never had a choice in hers.
-*-
"The blue box is still here," Karryn tells her two days later. She's stopped pestering Nyssa with questions about the Doctor. He hasn't returned to supper, and she'd assumed he was gone completely.
"Is it?" Her tone neutral, Nyssa fiddles with her fork, then sets it down.
Karryn studies her, then smiles and launches into a story about her family. Her hands illustrate with gestures and movements that finally catch Nyssa's attention. By the end of the second story, she's laughing again. By the end of the fourth, they both are.
For some reason, she stops at the room she made up for him, once upon a time, pushing the door open and stepping in before she registers he's there.
"I was..." he trails off, uncertain as he watches her.
"Would you have left without saying goodbye?" This ignores that she'd assumed he had, but she's not exactly feeling logical.
"No."
"I can't--" she meets his eyes steadily, wondering if he'll understand. "I can't give you what you want. Forgiveness, absolution, it's not mine to give. But I'm still your friend."
He frowns, then smiles, as though she's a puzzle he thinks he's figured out, "All right. Poker?"
"Not tonight. Olvir will be back tomorrow, so I'm going to bed a little early." A slight smile touches her lips, "He'll probably not recognize you, you know."
"You're going to turn me into a dock hand?"
"Why not, it's all you're useful for," she mocks gently before leaving him there.
-*-
The Doctor haggles for more sugar when she makes tea the next morning. Knowing Olvir should be bringing more with him, she allows the extra lump, even though Karryn is indignant. Everyone gets extra. They're in the middle of the rather unappetizing porridge which is all they have left when Olvir's call comes.
Around them, Terminus shivers a little as the shuttle docks, the air pressure shifting slightly even at this distance from the hatch.
With a sigh, the three leave their breakfast and head up to meet Olvir and his shipment of supplies. Nyssa retrieves the hand-cart and Karryn the anti-grav loader when they pass through the maintenance bay adjacent to the docking area.
Olvir is the first through the hatch, calling over his shoulder to the half-dozen crew that rotate out every time he leaves. The second person through is small, brown-haired, and excited.
"Mama!"
Laughing, Nyssa sets the cart to the side and leans down to scoop up her daughter, hugging her tightly. "It's good to see you, darling."
"Dad says we can't have candy, can we have candy, mama?"
Glancing towards Olvir, who's looking amused, Nyssa spots her son, peering out from behind his father's legs. She shakes her head a little, at how it's Ariadne who loves everyone on sight and Adric who hides until he's certain. "No candy, Ari," she says.
"Aw--" Ariadne breaks off to stare at the Doctor, arrested in her pleas for sugar, "Who are you?" she demands.
"This is the Doctor, Ari. He's an old friend."
Olvir's reached them by now, and Adric with him. Nyssa bends to ruffle his hair, "You're getting taller every time I see you!"
"Ma--" he moves and latches onto her leg with a sigh.
"This is--" the Doctor breaks off, sounding and looking befuddled.
"Unexpected?" Nyssa's eyebrows raise, her laughter in her voice. It was one of the few things she hadn't told him. "Doctor, I'd like you to meet Ariadne and Adric."
"Doctor?" At her side, Olvir stiffens, studying him more closely. Then he nods abruptly, "We have supplies and equipment to unload." He leans in, kisses her cheek and strides off to get the job done before someone drops something.
"You have children," the Doctor says quietly, looking dazed.
Ruffling Adric's hair, Nyssa smiles. "Did you expect me not to?"
"Will he give me candy?" asks Ariadne, leaning towards the Doctor, as though she expected him to materialize a mint creme in the blink of an eye.
"Ah, no." Shaking her head, Nyssa laughs. "C'mon, you two. Let's go down to the mess and leave the unloading to everyone else."
Normally, Olvir would be there, accusing her of shirking, with laughter in his eyes. She glances towards him, but his head is bent as he checks the ties on a pallet. It's their routine, after all. He and the children are there for six months at a time, and then they leave on supply runs or delivery missions that he contracts. It's better for the children to see what's outside Terminus, to understand that the universe is a wide and vast place.
The Doctor follows them down, entertaining the children with a yo-yo once they're in the mess. Around them, the ship moves and shifts as people invade, unloading supplies that will keep them going for months.
Supper is a loud affair, filled with people and news, laughter and the kind of catching up old friends get up to until three in the morning. Nyssa puts the children to bed early into the evening, telling them stories of Trakken as they fall asleep. She stays there, watching as they sleep, until the sound of leather creaking in the corridor pulls her back out into the open.
He's leaning across the way, looking at her. "Thank you."
"For what?" Nyssa pulls the hatch mostly closed and leans against her side of the hallway, head back and feeling completely relaxed for the first time in months.
"I--why don't the children stay here with you, full-time?"
"The radiation." It's one explanation amongst many. Nyssa yawns and straightens, "I should pull Olvir out or he'll be up until morning, keeping them entertained."
"I didn't expect that, either," he murmurs, falling into step next to her.
Nyssa laughs softly and glances up at him, "We didn't, either."
-*-
With the children, Olvir, and four new assistants to work in the lab, Nyssa's routine changes. Lab in the morning, children and Olvir in the afternoon with the Doctor joining them all in the evening. After three days, Ari can talk of nothing but the Doctor and his stories. He lets the children lead him around, 'exploring' Terminus, as though they have more insights than he does.
Perhaps they do.
Nyssa simply laughs at Olvir's worries and gets on with her research.
-*-
It's barely a week later that she hits on the correct sequence of calculations and successfully synthesizes the enzyme she's been designing. They throw a party that night, digging into the stash of alcohol and fruit, even the children getting a treat while the adults laugh.
She and Olvir slip away, remembering how it used to be. She laughs at his worries that she won't remember how it's done, that he's lost his touch with her. It's awkward and fumbling until his fingers stroke through her hair, his hands cupping her face and for an instant, she remembers being an uncertain young woman. Her laugh is breathless as she kisses him, shifting and adjusting until they remember how they got their children in the first place.
Afterwards, he falls asleep, leaving her to dream of places she'll never go again, her eyes wide in the darkness.
Somewhere nearby is the TARDIS, waiting and watchful, as though it has all the time in the universe to mourn the passing of a legacy.
And perhaps it has.
-*-
"You're going," she says the next morning. No one else is awake, or if they are, they're nursing their hangovers.
The Doctor looks up from the tea he's making, surprised. "Nyssa--"
"It's all right," a laugh escapes her and she pulls the precious canister of coffee grounds from a cupboard, "We're having coffee this morning, or no one will speak to each other."
The kettle whistles and he moves to rescue it, silent for a moment.
"I knew you wouldn't stay, even if you didn't," says Nyssa, ever-practical as she measures the grounds into the filter, taking a breath of the coffee-scented air and feeling refreshed.
He pours the water into the percolator, then sets the kettle down. "All right. Have you guessed what else I'll do?"
"What you always do," she replies, surprised that he still has to ask. "Save the universe, help old ladies cross the street, and--" she starts pulling mugs from the cupboard, mind already planning her day. Check the enzyme, double-check her notes, apply for a patent-- "--live."
"Live?"
"Whatever else can you do? You're the last of the Time Lords, you still owe the universe that."
That silences him again and they finish breakfast in silence.
-*-
He doesn't say goodbye, not while he's there at least. Months pass and her patent goes through, the children miss him for only a short while before moving on to other things. Karryn makes a break-through in her own research. Life goes on, as Nyssa always thought it would, even back then.
Standing in the TARDIS console room, the white of the walls shielding her from entropy, she'd realized there was little else to do but live. She wonders if it will take the Doctor long to come to terms with his own mortality.
Possibly. But then again, he has all the time in the universe.
Four months later, the Company changes its modus operandi, becoming a humanitarian organization with no drive for profit. They offer her more money than she'd expected for the blue-print of her enzyme, also promising that all patent rights will remain in her favor. In a daze, Nyssa receives a hand-written letter in the mail, explaining that the directorship has had a sudden change of heart. It's signed simply 'a friend', with a post-script that makes her smile.
'You were right.'
-f-
disclaimer: not mine
genre: gen, spec, AU, angst, friendship
characters: Nyssa of Trakken, Nine, others
pairing warning: Nyssa/Olvir, accidentally.
length: 100 words. No, wait, I kid. 4200+ words.
rating: PG
spoilers: just for Time War stuff. Oh, and Terminus.
notes: So. Once upon a time,
palmetto made a comment that make me think of writing a random crack!fic drabble. 4000 words later, it's not a drabble and it's definitely not crack!fic. Soundtrack: 'One of These Mornings' by Moby featuring Patti LaBelle. And some Tool.one of these mornings
it won't be very long
they will look for me
and I'll be gone
Never Very Long
by ALC Punk!
It's a sound she hasn't heard in far too many years. The echo of the past that brings her head up from the microscope as she listens. As though straightening will make it easier to hear, to pinpoint.
There.
"I'm taking a break," she murmurs to Karryn, the lab assistant Olvir hired when the work got too much for her on her own.
Karryn barely acknowledges her with a wave of a hand.
Slipping out into the lock from clean room to open air, Nyssa of Trakken pauses to remove the clean suit (cobbled together second-hand, of course, like everything on Terminus) and run fingers through her hair. There's no grey in it yet, but sometimes she wonders if she'd gone with him if there would be.
A man like him could drive anyone old before their time.
He's waiting in the mess, slouched against the wall, head down. She takes a moment to study him before stepping inside, noting that he's changed again, that there's something fragile about him. Something different.
"Can anyone have a cup of tea here, or is there a line?" he asks, head coming up and lips stretching into a charming grin.
-*-
It takes a cup and a half of tea before he asks her how she's doing. Nyssa's not surprised, he's kept up a patter of complete nonsense, persons, places, things that have nothing to do with her (and less to do with him unless she misses her guess).
She doesn't lie. "You were right that it would be hard."
"I'm always right," he jokes, something dark in his eyes before he looks away, peering into his cup as though it contains all the wonders of the universe.
"Not always, Doctor," Nyssa objects, standing to check on the tea kettle. They have to be careful not to leave it too long on the hot plate or it develops micro-fissures, cracks that can't be repaired. And the last time they had to replace a kettle it took four months of haggling and Nyssa threatening the trader with a gun to get it.
"Sometimes always."
A laugh escapes her and she puts the kettle to the side, "Are you hungry?"
"I could do with a bit of mash, yeah."
-*-
There's no crisis here. Nyssa knows this because she lives here, and while there are occasional crises, there's nothing like there once was. The Doctor fixed the drives and Terminus will never re-start the universe again. It's not much of a hospital ship anymore, of course. Once they'd worked out the proper levels of radiation and treatment for the disease, the Company was able to manufacture facilities anywhere they had a foot-hold.
Nyssa tells him all of this over the course of the meal. Discussing pathogens, blood types and hostile corporate takeovers seems normal to her.
She wonders, as they both fall silent afterwards, why he's there.
-*-
She puts him in one of the spare rooms, apologizing for the dust and making sure he's got a blanket. Heading back to the lab to put her unfinished notes away, she runs into Karryn looking perplexed.
"Did you know there's a blue box in corridor Alpha-B?" Karryn's hands move, describing the shape in a nervous movement that's never present in the lab. As though she can contain herself only for so long.
"Must be one of Olvir's left-over packing crates," suggests Nyssa, unwilling to delve into the whys and hows. It's a feeble excuse, but better than the truth. Time travel is still viewed as a myth, even with Terminus as a museum example of the possibilities. And explaining that an old friend has turned up and who he is doesn't seem worth the effort.
After all, Nyssa considers as she dons the clean suit again, she expects him to be gone before morning.
-*-
She's forgotten he's there in the morning.
Going through her notes, she tries to remember why her progress report cuts off halfway through. She turns to ask Karryn and suddenly remembers. "Oh dear."
"Something wrong on your calculations?"
"No." Laughing at herself, she puts her notes away again and slides off her stool, "I'll be back in a little while, I need to check something."
"If it's the tea kettle, I pulled it off before coming in here."
So had Nyssa.
-*-
The radiation levels by the old drives are mostly normal, now. Sometimes, people still see things walking through--ghosts of the past, or the people who died over the years. Ghosts from another universe, too.
"I thought he'd still be here," he says, leather jacket squeaking a little as he pokes through a pile of scrap Olvir hasn't sold for supplies yet.
Nyssa brushes a hand over the broken plexi-steel of the window into the past and says, not looking at him, "We found him a better place. He's happy and there are children." It's mostly the truth. She smiles slightly, "He sends letters every so often, when he can remember we wonder about him and Olvir can pay the courier."
In the end, Olvir, who'd wanted nothing to do with the Company, the plague or the cure, had been the one who'd stuck round the longest.
"Who taught him to write?"
"I did." It had seemed the least she could do. Payment for his help, in a coin that would earn him a better living than moving dead bodies or waste from place to place.
"That was kind of you."
"Would you have expected otherwise?" Perhaps her voice is a little sharp, but a part of her has been waiting to feel the other shoe drop. She's heard stories about him, here in Terminus with its echoes and ghosts. People die. People always die when he's around.
"No, yes, I--" he looks at a loss for an instant, then the grin returns. "Would you like a cuppa?"
Out here? There's nothing to make tea with, and Nyssa wonders at the flash of guilt in his eyes. What have you done now, Doctor? It can't be worse than letting Adric die, and she'd gotten over that long ago. She touches his arm, feeling the leather, real and solid and warm beneath her fingers, "I might even be able to scare up some biscuits."
"D'you have the ones with the currants in them? I've been dying for one for ages."
-*-
Nyssa abandons him to the mess and the pile of old reports that she's been meaning to read and toss. She has a lab to run and experiments to finish, even if she does have a guest. He never wrote, asking to visit, after all. And she has her own life to live.
The work swallows her whole, her brain running faster than a kilometer a second. It's always been that way, even when she was seven, standing at her father's side and measuring out juice and water rather than the acids and bases he used. There's an enzyme to synthesize, a refinement to it that will make it that much more efficient. The Company might actually pay her for it, if she can patent it before they realize she's finished it, at least.
Karryn's silent for a few hours before her obvious curiosity gets the better of her. "Who is he?"
The question no one has ever quite answered. Nyssa smiles a bit mysteriously as she glances sideways, "An old friend."
"He didn't come on the last shuttle."
It would have been hard for him to do so, given the last shuttle had been four months ago. Nyssa shakes her head, making another notation.
"So, what's in the blue box?"
Karryn's always been bright, it's why Nyssa hired her. Right now, though, she wishes she weren't so observant. "All the secrets of the universe."
A snort. "You're not going to tell me."
"No."
They all have to have their secrets, after all.
-*-
Karryn joins them for supper, and the Doctor regales them both with tales from planets Karryn only half-believes in. Nyssa drinks the stories up to store for later, when Olvir gets back. He'll be amused by them as much as she is. But then, they've both seen things that were impossible--Nyssa more so than most.
After tea and the last of the biscuits, Nyssa and Karryn take him at poker and half a dozen card games he claims to be excellent at.
It's only after Nyssa wins his jacket that his luck changes. A little. She laughs as he wins it back, shrugging it off and missing the warmth almost immediately. The game eventually ends with all of them back where they were, and Karryn takes herself to bed, complaining about her boss and early morning lab results.
The silence that falls is comfortable and Nyssa leans back in her chair, her mug of tea cold but something to hold.
With her eyes nearly closed, she can believe she's alone in the room, save the occasional sound of his breathing, the rasp of the leather as it moves and the eventual scrape from his chair when he stands.
"I should--"
"Do you ever sleep?" she teases softly, "I think Tegan once decided you didn't."
He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, "Check things in the TARDIS. Back in a tick."
"I won't wait up," she says to the empty room after she's cleaned away their dishes. She stopped waiting for him a long time ago. She wonders if he knows that.
-*-
The routine sets in, and it's a little strange, a little domestic, and not the sort of thing she'd ever expected from the Doctor. She and Karryn work, he joins them for supper and conversation. Mostly, they discuss universal politics, the gains and losses of the company and the myriad worlds he's visited. Sometimes, Nyssa talks of the worlds she knows. Karryn mocks them both, but brings her own stories of being the eldest of four, and how her mother had to work to see them all fed.
At 'night', he disappears to the TARDIS--the room Nyssa showed him to has never been slept in. Nyssa doesn't ask where he goes. Or even if he goes. She simply notes that he's back when she finds the kettle half-filled with water or a tea cup left on the counter, as though he'd been thinking of other things as he walked away.
Sometimes, she thinks he's exploring Terminus from stem to stern, learning ever nook and cranny as though building a map of the universe as it was.
Sometimes, she thinks it's just an excuse.
And some mornings, when there's no tea left in the kettle, she thinks rather uncharitably that she got on rather better when he wasn't around.
-*-
Finished with her experiments early one day, she wanders until she finds him, this time in the secondary control room, on his back under the console.
"There's mostly dust under there now."
"I've noticed."
Feeling strangely awkward, she shifts from foot to foot, "Olvir and I stripped it for parts to sell two years ago."
He crawls out from under, playing with a lone wire as he sort of sits there, hunched around his knees. He's about the same height he was before, but he's more gangly, less grown into himself, as though at any moment, he might jump out of his skin.
"You're one of the only ones, you know," he says suddenly, his tone odd.
Nyssa stops fidgeting, "Ones what?"
"Who will remember it. As it was, as it would be as it will have never..." he trails off, staring at the wire in his hands.
This. This here. She sucks in a breath, lets it out, "Tell me."
"I killed them all." the words are bitten off as though he's angry--at her, at himself, at this nameless them--his head comes up and the darkness in his eyes is worse than anything she's ever seen.
The echoes of the entropy which ate the edges of the universe are there, trying to swallow her whole. "What did you do, Doctor?" Her voice cracks from the intensity in the room and she doesn't feel weak for letting him get to her. He never frightened when he was young, except for once...
"What I had to."
He used to say, she thought, that the ends never justified the means. Moving carefully, she knelt and touched his shoulder, "Who will I remember?"
"Gallifrey." The word is torn from him, his head dropping as though waiting for her condemnation.
A shiver goes through her. Gallifrey, the home of the Time Lords. A place so powerful it had taken a near-god to attempt to topple it once upon a time. "What happened?"
"The Daleks. But I got them, I got them all--" now he's vicious, his head coming up, his eyes bright, "--they'll never bother the universe again."
"But the price," she guesses.
"Everything has a price, Nyssa. You simply have to decide how you want to pay it."
-*-
When he doesn't join them for supper, Nyssa jokes that he's tired of their company and leaves Karryn to clean up the dishes on her own. She doesn't go looking for him, not this time. The enormity of what he'd told her hurts in a way she can't articulate, can barely comprehend.
She left him in the secondary control room, walking away numb and only able to understand that she had to get away. Her lab had seemed a refuge and Karryn hadn't even asked why she was back when she'd been finished.
There'd been no break-through, but the solid, steady work had grounded her enough to smile during their meal.
But now, curled in her own bed, there's no solace, only the ache. She wonders if this was why he came here, to break her peace and find something like forgiveness from someone who understood.
Except that she doesn't. She can't.
He lost his world. She lost hers. But there's a difference. A fundamental difference that keeps her awake until it's nearly morning and her eyes are heavy with sleep. He chose his path, she never had a choice in hers.
-*-
"The blue box is still here," Karryn tells her two days later. She's stopped pestering Nyssa with questions about the Doctor. He hasn't returned to supper, and she'd assumed he was gone completely.
"Is it?" Her tone neutral, Nyssa fiddles with her fork, then sets it down.
Karryn studies her, then smiles and launches into a story about her family. Her hands illustrate with gestures and movements that finally catch Nyssa's attention. By the end of the second story, she's laughing again. By the end of the fourth, they both are.
For some reason, she stops at the room she made up for him, once upon a time, pushing the door open and stepping in before she registers he's there.
"I was..." he trails off, uncertain as he watches her.
"Would you have left without saying goodbye?" This ignores that she'd assumed he had, but she's not exactly feeling logical.
"No."
"I can't--" she meets his eyes steadily, wondering if he'll understand. "I can't give you what you want. Forgiveness, absolution, it's not mine to give. But I'm still your friend."
He frowns, then smiles, as though she's a puzzle he thinks he's figured out, "All right. Poker?"
"Not tonight. Olvir will be back tomorrow, so I'm going to bed a little early." A slight smile touches her lips, "He'll probably not recognize you, you know."
"You're going to turn me into a dock hand?"
"Why not, it's all you're useful for," she mocks gently before leaving him there.
-*-
The Doctor haggles for more sugar when she makes tea the next morning. Knowing Olvir should be bringing more with him, she allows the extra lump, even though Karryn is indignant. Everyone gets extra. They're in the middle of the rather unappetizing porridge which is all they have left when Olvir's call comes.
Around them, Terminus shivers a little as the shuttle docks, the air pressure shifting slightly even at this distance from the hatch.
With a sigh, the three leave their breakfast and head up to meet Olvir and his shipment of supplies. Nyssa retrieves the hand-cart and Karryn the anti-grav loader when they pass through the maintenance bay adjacent to the docking area.
Olvir is the first through the hatch, calling over his shoulder to the half-dozen crew that rotate out every time he leaves. The second person through is small, brown-haired, and excited.
"Mama!"
Laughing, Nyssa sets the cart to the side and leans down to scoop up her daughter, hugging her tightly. "It's good to see you, darling."
"Dad says we can't have candy, can we have candy, mama?"
Glancing towards Olvir, who's looking amused, Nyssa spots her son, peering out from behind his father's legs. She shakes her head a little, at how it's Ariadne who loves everyone on sight and Adric who hides until he's certain. "No candy, Ari," she says.
"Aw--" Ariadne breaks off to stare at the Doctor, arrested in her pleas for sugar, "Who are you?" she demands.
"This is the Doctor, Ari. He's an old friend."
Olvir's reached them by now, and Adric with him. Nyssa bends to ruffle his hair, "You're getting taller every time I see you!"
"Ma--" he moves and latches onto her leg with a sigh.
"This is--" the Doctor breaks off, sounding and looking befuddled.
"Unexpected?" Nyssa's eyebrows raise, her laughter in her voice. It was one of the few things she hadn't told him. "Doctor, I'd like you to meet Ariadne and Adric."
"Doctor?" At her side, Olvir stiffens, studying him more closely. Then he nods abruptly, "We have supplies and equipment to unload." He leans in, kisses her cheek and strides off to get the job done before someone drops something.
"You have children," the Doctor says quietly, looking dazed.
Ruffling Adric's hair, Nyssa smiles. "Did you expect me not to?"
"Will he give me candy?" asks Ariadne, leaning towards the Doctor, as though she expected him to materialize a mint creme in the blink of an eye.
"Ah, no." Shaking her head, Nyssa laughs. "C'mon, you two. Let's go down to the mess and leave the unloading to everyone else."
Normally, Olvir would be there, accusing her of shirking, with laughter in his eyes. She glances towards him, but his head is bent as he checks the ties on a pallet. It's their routine, after all. He and the children are there for six months at a time, and then they leave on supply runs or delivery missions that he contracts. It's better for the children to see what's outside Terminus, to understand that the universe is a wide and vast place.
The Doctor follows them down, entertaining the children with a yo-yo once they're in the mess. Around them, the ship moves and shifts as people invade, unloading supplies that will keep them going for months.
Supper is a loud affair, filled with people and news, laughter and the kind of catching up old friends get up to until three in the morning. Nyssa puts the children to bed early into the evening, telling them stories of Trakken as they fall asleep. She stays there, watching as they sleep, until the sound of leather creaking in the corridor pulls her back out into the open.
He's leaning across the way, looking at her. "Thank you."
"For what?" Nyssa pulls the hatch mostly closed and leans against her side of the hallway, head back and feeling completely relaxed for the first time in months.
"I--why don't the children stay here with you, full-time?"
"The radiation." It's one explanation amongst many. Nyssa yawns and straightens, "I should pull Olvir out or he'll be up until morning, keeping them entertained."
"I didn't expect that, either," he murmurs, falling into step next to her.
Nyssa laughs softly and glances up at him, "We didn't, either."
-*-
With the children, Olvir, and four new assistants to work in the lab, Nyssa's routine changes. Lab in the morning, children and Olvir in the afternoon with the Doctor joining them all in the evening. After three days, Ari can talk of nothing but the Doctor and his stories. He lets the children lead him around, 'exploring' Terminus, as though they have more insights than he does.
Perhaps they do.
Nyssa simply laughs at Olvir's worries and gets on with her research.
-*-
It's barely a week later that she hits on the correct sequence of calculations and successfully synthesizes the enzyme she's been designing. They throw a party that night, digging into the stash of alcohol and fruit, even the children getting a treat while the adults laugh.
She and Olvir slip away, remembering how it used to be. She laughs at his worries that she won't remember how it's done, that he's lost his touch with her. It's awkward and fumbling until his fingers stroke through her hair, his hands cupping her face and for an instant, she remembers being an uncertain young woman. Her laugh is breathless as she kisses him, shifting and adjusting until they remember how they got their children in the first place.
Afterwards, he falls asleep, leaving her to dream of places she'll never go again, her eyes wide in the darkness.
Somewhere nearby is the TARDIS, waiting and watchful, as though it has all the time in the universe to mourn the passing of a legacy.
And perhaps it has.
-*-
"You're going," she says the next morning. No one else is awake, or if they are, they're nursing their hangovers.
The Doctor looks up from the tea he's making, surprised. "Nyssa--"
"It's all right," a laugh escapes her and she pulls the precious canister of coffee grounds from a cupboard, "We're having coffee this morning, or no one will speak to each other."
The kettle whistles and he moves to rescue it, silent for a moment.
"I knew you wouldn't stay, even if you didn't," says Nyssa, ever-practical as she measures the grounds into the filter, taking a breath of the coffee-scented air and feeling refreshed.
He pours the water into the percolator, then sets the kettle down. "All right. Have you guessed what else I'll do?"
"What you always do," she replies, surprised that he still has to ask. "Save the universe, help old ladies cross the street, and--" she starts pulling mugs from the cupboard, mind already planning her day. Check the enzyme, double-check her notes, apply for a patent-- "--live."
"Live?"
"Whatever else can you do? You're the last of the Time Lords, you still owe the universe that."
That silences him again and they finish breakfast in silence.
-*-
He doesn't say goodbye, not while he's there at least. Months pass and her patent goes through, the children miss him for only a short while before moving on to other things. Karryn makes a break-through in her own research. Life goes on, as Nyssa always thought it would, even back then.
Standing in the TARDIS console room, the white of the walls shielding her from entropy, she'd realized there was little else to do but live. She wonders if it will take the Doctor long to come to terms with his own mortality.
Possibly. But then again, he has all the time in the universe.
Four months later, the Company changes its modus operandi, becoming a humanitarian organization with no drive for profit. They offer her more money than she'd expected for the blue-print of her enzyme, also promising that all patent rights will remain in her favor. In a daze, Nyssa receives a hand-written letter in the mail, explaining that the directorship has had a sudden change of heart. It's signed simply 'a friend', with a post-script that makes her smile.
'You were right.'
-f-
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That. Right there.
This is gorgeous. And very rightfully not crackfic.
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I fell in love with that paragraph while typing it out. I'm still in love with it.
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Very nice.
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I'm still utterly shocked that it went from being a 200-word drabble idea to this.
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