oooOooo

Adric was dead. The survivors from the freighter had been returned to their proper time and place, back home on Earth, the TARDIS for once going obediently where she was directed, almost as if the time machine, too, was subdued by the boy's death. Everyone had offered Tegan and Nyssa their condolences; the Doctor, as Commander Briggs put it, seemed "too far away" for them to approach with their sympathies.

When the last person had filed off the TARDIS, when the last good-bye was said, the Doctor had silently set the coordinates, announced his intention to "meditate", and promptly exited the console room. His cool manner and emotionless mien had somewhat surprised his two remaining companions, but not truly startled them. "We've all been off our feed lately," was Tegan's only comment as she placed a comforting arm around Nyssa's shoulders and ushered the younger woman to the room they currently shared.

oOo

"Will you be all right?" Two weeks had passed. Tegan and Nyssa were getting ready for bed. Tegan knew the young Trakenite hadn't been sleeping well, and neither had she, truth be told. Guilt, grief and anger had kept her from being able to talk to her friend--or the Doctor--for far too long, but she was feeling better able to deal with things now that she'd had her cry out. And from the looks of things, Nyssa was, too. She was nodding in answer to Tegan's question, smiling even, something neither of them had been able to manage even a few days ago. Tegan felt her spirits lift even more at this sign of recovery.

The TARDIS had begun to look like a ghost ship, what with Nyssa spending all her time holed up in the labs and the Doctor off doing who-knew-what in the bowels of the ship. Not to mention Tegan herself avoiding the others by hiding in her room, she reluctantly admitted, like a frightened child. But it had been what she needed; time spent alone, to bring some sort of order to her chaotic emotions. It had taken every ounce of her admittedly small store of self-control to keep from screaming accusations at the Doctor, to keep from hitting him or throwing things at him in a childish temper tantrum that might have relieved her initial feelings, but would have done more harm than good in the long run. So hiding, being off by herself, had been the best thing she could have done.

Whether or not that was true for herself, it seemed to have helped Nyssa; although she would hold her grief for Adric's death in her heart forever--along with her grief for the loss of father and home world--she would be able to get on with her life. That was the sort of person she was, and Tegan admired her for it while at the same time feeling a touch of envy; she'd never be able to put it aside so completely as she knew Nyssa would. "I still can't believe he's gone," Nyssa murmured, as if reading Tegan's mind.

Tegan lowered her eyes. "Me too. I guess it'll just.. .take time." It was an inane thing to say, but she honestly couldn't think of anything else.

Nyssa simply nodded. She started to enter the room they shared, holding the door for Tegan to follow, but her room-mate took a step back, shaking her head. "Not yet. I'm not tired."

"Tegan, you need your rest." Nyssa's voice filled with concern, and Tegan mustered up a bright smile.

"No, it's all right, honestly. I promise I'm not going off to sulk. I just don't feel tired, not yet. Maybe if I get something to eat I'll feel better. See you later?"

Nyssa nodded reluctantly. "Later, then. Good-night, Tegan."

"Good night." Tegan stood for a moment outside the door. She'd had her cry out, and Nyssa'd had hers, too. That left only one person who was still bottling things up. The Doctor. Tegan glanced down the corridor toward the nearest kitchen, then in the opposite direction, nodding firmly as she made up her mind. Squaring her shoulders, she marched determinedly toward the Doctor's suite of rooms.

But, as she turned down the hall that actually led to his private quarters, Tegan found herself slowing. A kind of reluctance possessed her; after all, what if the Doctor didn't want comforting? He wasn't human, she reminded herself as she came to an indecisive stop not ten feet from his door, no matter how much he looked it. Suppose Time Lords always handled grief by pulling into themselves emotionally, like frightened turtles retreating into their shells at the slightest hint of danger?

She snorted and shook her head at the image that thought presented. No. Every instinct she possessed told her that this was worst possible way he could react, the worst thing he could do. Nodding firmly to herself, certain that she was justified in her actions, Tegan marched the final steps to the Doctor's door and raised a hand to knock.