You should see me in the mornings.
Slight AU for Voyage of the Damned. The Doctor strengthens the teleport just long enough to bring Astrid on board the TARDIS.
Sometimes he thinks her skin glows.
He smells her long before he feels the tips of her toes touch the backs of his heels. Smoke and marmalade and champagne and fire. She's warm, but not warm enough.
Her arms come around his middle and he feels her cheek against his back. She complains he's too skinny. It makes him smile. Martha always complained about that too. But he thinks she likes it.
"Doctor..."
"No! If I can just link up the surface suspension..."
"Doctor, she's gone."
"Doctor?"
He blinks, and there in the reflection of the center console, he can see her blonde curls peeking out over his shoulder. His hands, flat on the console, are chilled. Night mode.
"Are you all right?"
He nods, knowing she can feel the movement through his body. "Yeah," he says. He shifts his body weight and she leans away and he turns, meeting her eyes, and smiles. "I'm always all right."
"I just need to override the safety! I can do this! I can do it!"
"Doctor..."
She smiles back, but it doesn't reach her eyes. He runs his hands up her arms, her skin too cold through the thin fabric of his white fancy shirt. There's a soot smudge on the front beneath her collarbones, right where her hand had fisted on his chest right before they parted ways on the Titanic.
He can still feel the ghost of her kiss on his lips.
"Let her go."
An old tradition on Sto, she had said. He'd thought about that. An old tradition everywhere, he'd thought. On every planet. A way of bestowing good luck on the departer, on the soldier, on the warrior. A way of hoping.
"You're thinking again," she says, that melancholy half-smile still gracing her face. "You shouldn't think so much."
He grins. "Hard to stop."
She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Let me help you with that."
When her arms come around his neck and he bends his head to meet her halfway and they're too wrapped in each other's embrace to notice anything else, he does. He tries very hard to stop thinking. And for one beautiful, intimate moment, it works.
He looks up at Mr. Copper, looks back over his shoulder at the faint outline that should be her. And something inside him snaps and he grits his teeth and yells.
"NO!"
He brings the sonic up to its highest power, draws it from the distant connection to the TARDIS, plugs in the coordinates to wherever his wonderful ship is resting on the Earth.
"I can do anything! And I'm going to bring her back!"
He feels it when the molecules align and fade into existence and his sonic signals him. It resonates through his entire being. His hearts pound and his lungs fill and his synapses fire on all power. She's there. She's back.
Her fingers weave through his hair. She loves his hair. She can't stop touching it, even when they're asleep. Her hands are always somewhere. Tucked in his elbow, wrapped around his chest. She doesn't get fresh, just...seems to need to reassure herself that he's there. Always within reach. He doesn't mind. It's been a long time since someone has touched him like this. The last person...but no. Don't think about that. Stop thinking.
She's so beautiful.
"Astrid! Astrid! Are you there? Come in!"
He hears her gasp for air, hears the tolling of the TARDIS bell. He knows it doesn't like her. It doesn't like anomalies. "Doctor! Where are you?"
He tunes the sonic and points it outwards and brings her hologram into focus. They can see each other, her on the TARDIS and himself still on board the Titanic. "Doctor, what's going on?"
"I've brought you back, Astrid! You're okay, I promise! You're safe in there!"
"But - it's - it's bigger - "
"On the inside, yes, but don't worry, I'm coming!"
She coughs, inhales shakily. Her hologram shakes, and he knows it's not the connection."But - I was falling, I was - "
"No, you're not, Astrid, you're okay! I'll be right there, I swear."
He usually sleeps on his back, but when she's next to him, he can't help but align his body with hers. They haven't done anything past that. Just...sleep. Close to each other. She sleeps curled into a ball, and he hears her when she dreams. He watches her face and lets his hands wander over her. He hopes it brings her comfort.
"I'm falling. Stop me falling," she whispers, her eyes closed too tightly, her skin still too cold.
Her face twists in pain, and that's when he allows his fingertips to rest on her temples and closes his eyes and lets peace flow into her. It softens her features, lets her breathe easy.
It just means he has the nightmares instead.
In them, she is atoms. Nothing more. Stardust, he hears someone whisper. The signal's not strong enough, he hears himself shout in her memories.
But no, he'd done it. He'd brought her back. He'd saved her.
He uses one of the teleport bracelets and homes in on the TARDIS's signal with the sonic. It beams him right to the control room, where he spots Astrid, leaning on the console and breathing heavily. When she sees him appear, she chokes out a sob and rushes to him, clinging to him for dear life.
"It's okay, I've got you," he chants, over and over, until her sobs subside and she stops trembling in his arms. He's so sorry. He hates making people scared. He always feels like it's his fault, like he never keeps people safe.
He supposes that's probably mostly true.
Eventually she calms down and looks up at him with red eyes. He brings up a finger and wipes tears away as gently as he can. His face contorts with grief and regret, and he whispers, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," and she wraps her arms around him again and this time they hold each other with equal force.
He was so close to losing her. He doesn't know if he'd have been able to handle that.
She feels so real.
His arms are around her waist as they stand at the TARDIS console, her back to him and his hands on her hips. Every so often, they slide downward and she smacks his wrists. "Oi, don't get fresh now," she scolds him, and he just grins at her. "I'll wreck us."
"Aw, no, you won't. Don't worry, I've got your back," he says, wondering if she can hear the smirk in his voice. He brings his hands up, though, and places them over hers on a lever. He's teaching her how to fly the TARDIS. It's an off day for them. No adventures, no mischief, just a morning in together. Been a while since either of them had one of those.
"Where do you want to go tomorrow?" he asks her, trying his best to ignore that her shirt has slipped off her right shoulder as she's pulled levers and pressed buttons on the console and it's literally right under his nose. He fails spectacularly, giving in and nuzzling the bare skin.
He does ignore the fact that it's glowing again.
She tilts her head toward his face, her eyes falling closed. "Mmm," she responds.
"Well, that was definitive," he murmurs against her back.
She turns back towards him and he flips the safety back on. She doesn't meet his eyes. "I dunno. You pick," she says.
He furrows his brow and leans in, slipping a knuckle under her chin and his other hand along the small of her back. "Astrid, what's wrong?"
When her face tilts up and her eyes meet his, they're swimming.
"I'm not supposed to be here. Am I?"
He swallows.
He flips the lever and the TARDIS starts to take off. Astrid still clings to him, her arms tight around his waist, and he keeps his right arm wrapped around hers. He doesn't want to let go of her. He can't. He has to hold her here because he's so afraid she's going to fly away, regardless of the logic that says otherwise. It's his instinct. And his instinct is never wrong.
"Where are we going?" she asks in a small voice.
He looks down at her, and he can't help but break into a smile. "Anywhere," he says.
She stares at him for a half-moment before reaching up and pulling him into a kiss.
He takes her everywhere he can. He keeps them out of trouble. He becomes the person he's always meant to be - just a traveler, just running for fun, a stowaway that doesn't get caught and doesn't get into trouble. He becomes that for her. He shows her the universe, the skies she dreamt of seeing. He never takes her far from the TARDIS. He never brings her into danger. If there's trouble, he pretends everything is fine and distracts her and pulls her back into his ship.
He loves kissing her. He can't stop himself. But when she asks him that, it just seems...wrong. She runs her hands up his chest beneath the dressing gown he accidentally stole from Jackie Tyler a long time ago, and her forehead falls forward to rest on his hearts.
"Please, Doctor. Tell me."
He swallows again, and wraps his arms around her tighter.
"No, I'm afraid not."
He feels it when she starts to cry into his chest.
He'd known the moment she'd materialized in the TARDIS. The molecules, the atoms. They hadn't smelled right when he'd held her. They hadn't felt complete. He'd strengthened the connection just enough to bring her aboard his ship, but there hadn't been enough power in the teleport to bring her back all the way. She's real, but she's also...not. Not right. Just a moment out of sync.
It breaks his hearts, knowing she's not completely here.
He wonders if that means he might love her.
"Let her go."
He explains it to her. She nods when she understands. He keeps telling her he's sorry, and she shakes her head and says no, no, it's not your fault. She kisses him. Her face is wet, and he breaks at how real she feels.
Smoke and marmalade and champagne and fire.
He pulls away just to look into her eyes. Her skin glows, and he thinks he hears her atoms. They're singing.
"Astrid Peth. Citizen of Sto. The woman who looked at the stars and dreamt of traveling."
She looks up at him, and her eyes spill over, and he puts a hand on her cheek.
"There's an old tradition."