Tegan is crying.
I know she is. If I hadn't seen the tracks of the tears on her face, I would know that she is. I am too. I can feel the pain she is feeling because I feel it too. There's a lump of lead in my stomach that leaves me feeling weak and useless. She speaks in my defense, but I don't need it.
I'm bruised and pained, sick and weak, but I know I'm making the right decision. I want to stay. Here, in this floating death ship at the center of the Universe, I can make a difference. I want to make a difference; I've trained my entire life to use my knowledge to help. I can do it...I...
Her embrace is strong. It's making me cry as well. The touch of her tears on my cheek makes me tremble.
She can go home; she stays with us because she chooses to stay (although that wasn't always the truth). There is no such choice for me to make. I travel with the Doctor because I enjoy the rush of knowledge, the newness of each world. I eagerly await each new day, each new scientific discovery, each new person, each new world. But I don't have a choice of returning home when this life wears on me.
I can't go home. I can never go home. I've come to accept (if such a word describes) the loss of my world. Scientifically the knowledge is there that Traken is gone, but my heart never was completely understanding of science. Compassion is a horrible friend to logic but they can co-exist. I still feel the pain in my heart; I always will; how can one recover from losing one's home, one's family, one's culture? But I can't let the sorrow overwhelm me; I can't let it paralyze me. There is something to do here that needs to be done.
I can't help Traken, but I can help these people.
My arms surround Tegan and accept her embrace. I know she will miss me as I will miss her. We've shared pain and terror and bruises and nightmares; we've shared death and injuries and losses. We've shared a bedroom, shared meals, laughs and tears. We've shared a friendship that neither one of us expected to have. She's my sister and my confidant. Yes, I will miss her, more than I care to admit. I'll miss the Doctor. I'll miss my home of these last two years.
But missing never was a strong deterrent to my course once set.
"I'm indestructible, just like you," I whisper as her arms tighten around me.
What I don't say is that I know this is my destination, that my traveling with the Doctor was the course. I know this is my reason. Father always taught me that there was a reason for everything, a purpose. This.
Terminus.
This is my purpose.
She'll leave. He'll leave. My friends will leave, but my new home, my new purpose will remain with me forever. And I'll do my best to ensure that this home will never be swallowed up by entropy or lost.
I ignore the lump of pain and loss in my stomach, reassure my friends and embrace my new home and purpose. I'm home again.