Chapter 6

Yaz usually went alone to physical therapy, as even she felt the Doctor couldn't do much but get in the way, but she asked the Doctor to come on the day she was due to attempt her first steps (with support, of course). She was really quite nervous, perhaps unreasonably so. Since regaining the ability to sit up straight (which was wonderful but also quite tiring and sometimes painful), she had spent much of her time doing water therapy, which she really enjoyed. The water was warm and inviting, and she felt such freedom when floating and moving through it. The stress her lower spine felt while sitting was gone in the therapy pool, and she could stretch out and move in any direction. It was a wonderful way to regain her strength so she would be able to do the more difficult things, and she never had to worry about falling.

But here she was, on land, preparing to walk with the aid of support bars, and she was terrified. What if she couldn't do it? What if the pain was excruciating, or her legs wouldn't obey her, and she just fell into a crumpled heap?

But Sister Violet was by her side, and the Doctor stood at the other end of the path Yaz must walk, smiling encouragingly. And Yaz smiled back, knowing she could do anything she needed to, because she could feel the Doctor's love wrapping around her, enveloping her, bathing her. It was so ridiculously impossible that the Doctor could love her, and yet there she was, keen and devoted. Yaz had told herself for so long that what she had with the Doctor was the most she was going to get, that there was no point in even imagining that the Doctor might love her back, other than as a friend. She counted herself as beyond lucky to have the Doctor in her life at all, especially now that she was the Doctor's one and only travelling companion, the person the Doctor depended on.

That was how she knew the Doctor must have been the one to make the first move. Yaz would have assumed there was no point in even trying. Until recently, when the Doctor had brought up previous marriages, she had wondered if the Doctor was even capable of romantic feelings. But frustratingly, maddeningly, she still wouldn't tell the story of just how the two of them had gotten together, how their love had come to the surface and how their hasty wedding had taken place. Every time Yaz asked, she saw pain etching the Doctor's features, so she was afraid to push as hard as she wanted to. What had happened, she wondered, that had made what should have been the happiest day of their lives such a painful memory? And how had Yaz's head injury so successfully wiped out an entire romance?

Today, at least, Yaz felt a little more like herself. She was fully dressed for the first time since she'd come here, wearing her own clothes that the Doctor had brought her from the TARDIS. It was funny how much that alone boosted her confidence.

Sister Violet helped her from her wheelchair, and Yaz grabbed the parallel bars that would guide her along her path. The Doctor gave her a thumbs up.

"I'll be right by your side," Sister Violet promised.

"What if I can't do it?" Yaz asked her. She was standing – she was actually standing – but the days when she could actually propel herself forward at will seemed like a distant memory.

"If you can't do it today, we'll try again tomorrow," Sister Violet promised.

"But you can do it!" the Doctor called. "Come on, walk to me!"

"She's right," Sister Violet agreed. "You've done this in the water. You can do it here too."

"Okay," Yaz said, lifting her right foot. Early on, she'd struggled to make her legs go in the direction she wanted, but now her foot listened and allowed her to set it down exactly where she wanted. Then she lifted her left foot and placed it in front of the right. She continued doing this, gripping the bars a little tighter every time she started to lose her balance, until she made it to the other end. Grinning, she let go of one bar and took another step towards the Doctor before losing control and falling into the Doctor's arms.

"Good job, babe," the Doctor said, hugging her tightly and planting a kiss on her head. "We'll be running together in no time," she whispered in her ear.

At her next water therapy session, Yaz described her wedding plans to Sister Violet, who listened raptly. It was funny how excited the Sisters got about the idea of a wedding, even though none of them could get married. Or maybe it was because none of them could get married.

"It's a good thing you're learning to walk again, so you'll be able to walk down the aisle," Sister Violet chirped as Yaz made her way across the shallow end of the pool, holding the bars.

"Yeah. I never really saw myself getting married, but…I never saw myself meeting anyone like the Doctor! She's made me happier than I could ever have imagined."

"And anyone can see how much she loves you!" Sister Ruby said, having just arrived at the poolside to take Yaz back to her room. "When she brought you to the hospital, she told us you were her everything and we had to make you well again."

Yaz smiled, making her own way to the little chair that would lift her out of the pool. Sister Ruby then helped her into a wheelchair and took her to the dressing room. In the wheelchair-accessible cubicle, she managed to dry off and get dressed by herself, though it took twice as long as before her accident. She was just grateful to be able to wear clothes again though.

"Did the Doctor really say I was her everything when she brought me here?" she asked Sister Ruby as she wheeled her back to her room.

"Yes, or maybe she said you were everything to her. Yes, I think that was it. She said you were all she had left."

"I suppose that's true," Yaz said softly. "She doesn't have any family. I do, but she's my favourite person to be with by far."

"It was clear how much she loved you. She was quite desperate for you to get the surgery you needed."

"She saved my life. Again." Yaz smiled to herself but then sighed. "I just wish I could remember our wedding. She says it was hurried and not that special, but I'd still like to remember something. She doesn't even have any pictures, and she won't tell me much about it."

"Well, I did see the marriage certificate. Has she shown you that? It's not much – just a little thing, really – but it had your names on it. Chapel of New Las Vegas, it said."

Yaz frowned as they turned down the corridor going to her room. "It was small? How small?"

"Oh, about this wide." Sister Ruby held one hand up, fingers apart to show the size of the certificate.

Yaz's heart started thumping. "Was it in a plain black wallet?"

"Yes. So you have seen it?"

Yaz shook her head, looking down at her hands. "No. But I've seen the wallet."

They turned into her room. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the beautiful wedding portrait on the wall, but Yaz couldn't bear to look at it. It was a lie. It was all a lie.

"Looks like your wife is still out," said Sister Ruby. "Where would you like me to leave you?"

"By the window, please," Yaz said softly. "So I can look out."

"Not a problem." Sister Ruby placed her in front of the window and left Yaz alone with her back to the door. She was glad. She didn't know how she was going to look at the Doctor when she saw her again.

Instead she stared out at the beautiful gardens surrounding the hospital. She had kissed the Doctor not so long ago in one of those gardens, and they had talked about the future, a future built on a past that had never happened. A future that had probably been invented, like the past, to help Yaz get well. And when she was well? Then it would all disappear. Yaz had never felt so humiliated in her life. She felt the invisible cloak of the Doctor's love she'd been wrapped in all these weeks crumble and fall away, accepting that it had been an illusion all along. It had been a lie of kindness. She knew that much. And it must have gotten out of hand, forcing the Doctor to keep the pretence up much longer than she'd probably planned – again, out of kindness. Yaz knew the Doctor would never want to hurt her, but she had, and she wasn't sure how she would ever recover from a wound this deep.

She wished another prisera bird could come get her now, lift her up and drop her from a much greater height. She'd like it to just drop her into oblivion so she wouldn't have to feel this pain anymore.

When the first fat, hot tear rolled down her cheek, she found she didn't even have the will to wipe it away.