Chapter XCI

Martha

They had paid Tim a last visit. It was strange for her to suddenly see him as an old man – had he been a young boy to her only a few minutes ago. They had all worn the red poppies in remembrance of the veterans, and Mira had sobbed heartbreakingly – yet she had tried to keep herself together.

"What's the matter?" she asked as they were all back in the TARDIS. "He survived the war so why are you crying?"

"I'm not," Mira replied, still sniffing.

"Sure," she said after exchanging a quick glance with the Doctor. "Just got something in your eye, hm?"

"Oh Martha," Mira replied, "It's okay. I know he didn't die in the war, which is a good thing, but it just always gets to me seeing someone as a child and then again as an old man. It's... It's weird. Anyway. What happened to the family?" Mira turned to the Doctor.

That was something she herself was interested in as well. She had heard the explosion, and somehow assumed they had died, but something in the Doctor's face told her that was not the case.

"So, where are we going next?" he asked instead of answering.

"No, wait," she fell in, "What happened? They didn't get away, did they?"

"No," he said, eyes on the console, flipping some switches.

"So what happened then? Are they dead?" she asked.

"Nope."

"So what happened then? You have them locked away in here somewhere?" she asked, only halfway teasing him.

He looked up and directly at her for a moment. Had she just thought about nagging him until he'd tell her what had happened, after seeing the look in his eyes she thought better of it.


Mira

It was a surprise to find him in the observatory – most of the times she had been there, waiting for him. Or not waiting, but he had joined her anyway. Or probably she had been waiting without even knowing she did. He was sitting in the corner of the couch, watching her as she walked over to him and sat down next to him.

"So, how was it like, being human?" she asked, watching his face change to an expression which could be best described as revulsion, just as honest and seemingly as unaware of – human – social conventions as only he could be. "Oh come on, wasn't that bad, was it?" she added.

"Was it not?" he said, his eyebrows raised. "I have no idea how you cope to be honest. Always hungry, and cold, and, oh! Tired. How can anyone sleep that much only to be tired again a few hours later? I wonder how you humans get anything done at all! I slept for seven hours. Per night! You have no control over those bodies at all, have you? They're weak, so... fragile, and-"

"Could have been worse," she interrupted his babbling, "At least you could sleep. I was forced to lie in bed the whole night, and I can't remember when I've last done that, all night, every night. I don't need that much sleep. I liked it, back then. Sleeping. I could sleep for nine hours straight. I mean, I can still do it, but only when I'm exhausted to a point where it definitely becomes unhealthy, if not life threatening. Like, 'being stranded on some planet and forced to beat your way through some rain-forest for days on end' kind of being exhausted, so... But yes, it actually was cold in this school."

"Was it?" he said and frowned. "I'm sorry," he added after a moment of silence. "Joan, I- I don't know what got into me, I-"

"Don't worry," she replied and looked down, before she caught his eyes again. "I know. You were human. An ordinary human, and someone completely different. There was nothing left, apart your dreams, from your normal self. You looked like yourself, but you were someone else. Good God, with closed eyes I wouldn't have been able to recognise it's you at all. You-" She paused for a moment and then continued, "The human you'd turned into fell for Joan, and I can't blame him. I think, actually I have to be the one being sorry. I scared you, and I'm sorry for that."

"Nah, I wasn't scared," he said, shaking his head.

"Liar," she laughed but then got serious again. "Even before you were scared you were uncomfortable in my presence. No need in denying," she added as he slowly shook his head again. "And as said, I can't blame you. It's human, being scared of things you don't understand. And even though you had no idea who – or what – I am, you new something was weird. I always hoped I'll never have such an effect on other humans, but obviously I have by now. I think I felt a bit like that when I first met my father and all the others. Even before I knew. There was something about them, something you can't quite put your finger on, but it's there."


Doctor

She was right. He would have loved to contradict her, but it was true. She was different, and, even though he could not explain it, he had felt it, and he was certain other humans could see it as well. And now that he knew how he had felt in her presence, he felt sorry for her. Sorry that she as an empath could sense how uncomfortable others were in her presence.

"It's not that bad," she said quietly, reminding him that their conversation was not merely on the level of speech.

Not quite telepathic right now, but definitely more than she could read in his face, of that he was certain.

"I should warn you," she said with an almost shy smile. "I don't know what it is yet, but I can certainly... feel something from you. It's not quite telepathic, but... I don't know. I- No idea what it is, to be honest."

Neither did he. Well, it certainly was quite unique, for he had never met a human like her, so who knew what would and could happen between them. In this case, only time would tell. And yet he didn't feel as confused about it as he had when they had admitted that there was something between them. Right now it was actually almost something he would look forward to.

"Oh, and I haven't thanked you yet, I guess," he broke the silence. "So, thank you. Really, I-"

"Never mind that," she said quietly.

"Oh, I do," he said gravely. "Thank you for everything, for taking the weapon from me and– blimey, you're fast!"

"Nah, I wasn't fast," she said and grinned. "You were slow. Even for a human. Slow and stubborn!" She got serious again and added, "By the way, I meant it. Every word of what I said to you." She suddenly took his hands, her fingers intertwined with his. "You're not alone. You might feel lonely, but you're not alone. Sarah cared for you, and I think Romana as well. Even Rose, and... Well, you heard Martha. They don't just leave you so they can go on with their lives and forget you. That's what you'd like to believe. But that's not how it is. It's only because you know they'll leave you in the end, one way or the other. So you would like to convince you that they go because they don't care. So you can believe you're not attached to them. That way it's easier in the short term, but not in the long run. Trust me, I've..." She freed her hands again, looking down at them, indecisively, only to enclose his right hand a second later. "It's just not good to live like that, but I guess you know that. And I know I'm probably not the best of all people to tell you that, not heading my own advice far too often – that doesn't mean everyone else has to live miserable as well."

He did not reply, just watched her fingers gently caressing the back of his hand, tracing the bones of his wrist, feeling the hair covering his skin. It tingled slightly, and even though he had hold her hands before, it seemed as if he just felt it for the first time.

He looked up at her, his eyes following the curve of his neck, wondering how it must feel to follow it not only with his eyes but also with his fingers, all the way down to her shoulder and-

He couldn't help these thoughts, nor could he deny the fact that he had been human - if only for a short while. He could very well remember, remember all those feelings, emotions, familiar and yet strangely foreign at the same time. Being attracted to someone in such a physical way as he had been drawn towards Joan; he had never quite understood why humans were as they were. Sure, it was fun, sort of, and yes, he had tried it himself occasionally, willingly so, if mainly for the sake of the experience and out of curiosity. But he had never really understood it, never felt like they obviously did feel about it. He had come close, being in their heads from time to time, having been in her head. But he was not an empath. He could watch these feelings, but they would never become his feelings, no matter how hard he tried. And now, whether he liked it or not, he had felt it first hand, and it lingered with him, faint but lasting, and it would probably stay with him for a very long time. And so he wondered, maybe for the first time ever, at least in that particular way, how soft her skin would feel under his touch - even though he had touched her skin before and knew how soft it was – but certainly not with this intentions. But what were his intentions?

Mira, who was looking at him, seemed to know better than he did, judging from the look in her eyes. He could hear her heart beating faster, and for a moment it flashed through his mind how all this was merely a physical reaction, even though humans tended to have more romantic expressions for it; a release of hormones, neurotransmitters, and such. But, for whatever reason, for once he didn't care what it was or how it worked. He actually, really, absolutely did not care, a fact that left him quite dumbfounded, if only for a second. Their eyes met for a moment as she looked up again, but then she closed them as he softly touched her cheek, traced the gentle curve on the side of her neck with the tips of his fingers, feeling her pulse under her skin, down to her shoulder, following the line of her collarbone. She shivered slightly under his touch, and just as he could feel the softness of her skin with his fingers he could feel the echo of his touch in her mind with his own.

Her face was so close to his now, he could smell her skin, sweet, warm, familiar despise the short time she had been in his life. Their cheeks touched, softly, fleetingly, pausing for a moment as if to reassure them of each others presence. His eyes were closed as well now as there was no need to see – he wanted to feel her, being unable to remember when – and if – he had felt someone like this before. He must have, at some point in his life, and he had certainly felt others in the more recent past; but not like this. There was a soft touch at the back of his head, ruffling his hair, fingers gently running down along his spine from there to the collar of his shirt, sending chills through his whole body. He had almost opened his eyes again in surprise – even more so as he could feel a slight hint of affectionate amusement about him being surprised like that in her mind.

Stop analysing!

Her thought appeared in his mind, and only a moment later she wouldn't have needed to think that – her lips were touching his, lightly at first, and as he kissed her back there was hardly room for any thoughts left in his head.


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