[EDITED NOVEMBER 2018]
Part Ten – The End of Time
Soundtrack:
"I Would Give It All" - Besides by Helen Jane Long
Viera woke slowly, the last strands of deep sleep still clinging to her mind. "Mmph," she sighed, squinting against the brightness of the light.
"Hello there. Awake yet?" It was the Doctor's voice. Viera froze, one hand half way to her eyes in an aborted motion to cover them. He sounded the same, didn't he? Didn't he? Viera swallowed, lowered her arm, and very slowly turned over.
"I suppose this is what you've been researching frantically for the past few months?" the Doctor asked. Viera's eyes watered. She'd never cried happy tears before, but then she didn't think she'd ever felt such overwhelming relief either. Viera lifted a hand to trace the outline of his face, the same face he'd had the day they met on that awful shuttle. The same deep brown eyes. The same dark, messy hair.
It had worked.
"You didn't really think I was going to just let you go without a fuss, did you?" Viera asked, grinning so hard that her cheeks hurt.
"For someone so easy-going, you're incredibly stubborn." He gave a long-suffering sigh, but it didn't have quite the same effect when all she could see in his eyes was warmth and intense relief.
"How do you feel? Everything healed alright?" Viera asked, sitting up slowly. The Doctor put an arm behind her shoulder to steady her. Her body felt achingly weak, much like it had the first time she'd used the Obetovat Stone, though the pain was much milder. She had, after all, been using the Doctor's regenerative energy rather than the destructive power of the rift.
"I feel fantastic. I'm not the one who's been in a coma for the last week and half," he said. The Doctor's expression turned reproving. "You have to stop using that stone. One of these days you're not going to wake up."
"I know," Viera said. She made an attempt to sound contrite but it didn't work very well. She wasn't really sorry, after all. "But I had to try."
"You always have to try," he said through gritted teeth.
"You don't have any room to talk," she said. "You risk yourself for perfect strangers practically on a daily basis."
"That's not the same."
"Why? Because it's you?" Viera's reply was a bit sharper than what she'd meant it to be, but she didn't take it back, didn't look away.
"That's not- I wasn't dying, not really. You risked your life to stop a regeneration," the Doctor said.
"Felt like dying," Viera countered quietly. He'd been scared. He could deny it all he wanted, but he'd fought that regeneration as hard as he could. For a long moment both of them were serious and silent, just staring at each other.
"Besides," Viera broke moment with a soft teasing smile. "I'm rather fond of this version of you. I'd hate to have break in a new one."
"You make me sound like a comfortable pair of old shoes," the Doctor complained. He made a face, one she'd seen him make a hundred times before, his eyes sparkling with humor even as his expression tried to portray offense. It was so blessedly, wonderfully, familiarly him that the tears returned to Viera's eyes.
"Here now, what's this?" the Doctor asked softly, wiping away a tear as it fell.
"Just happy," Viera laughed. She felt silly and overemotional, but she'd been so scared that she was losing him. One of his arms was still around her shoulders; it made it quite easy to lean forward and wrap her arms around him. Viera held on with all her might, convincing herself that it was the fatigue and weakness that made her shake so badly. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"Ah, Viera. I'm always okay," he assured. He held her carefully, the cheer in his voice softened by something she didn't dare try to name. "But, thank you."