A/N: Okay, so after Nano and then maybe a little too many video games, and THEN the holidays. I'm back. If any of you have the misfortune to follow my antics next year around the holidays, just be prepared for 2 months of radio silence. Anything I tell you to the contrary is a LIE.

Anyway, so obviously I had to reread the last chapter to get my bearings. And you guys let me use "Despite" THREE TIMES IN LESS THAN LIKE 4 SENTENCES OR SOME SHIT. I AM SO DISAPPOINTED AND EMBARRASSED. Mostly embarrassed. I was like squinting at the screen, "despite? Again?" and then I was like, whatever. It happens. AND THEN THERE WAS A THIRD. Where were you all on that? You just let me disappoint my whole family! You know what, I'm not even going to fix that. That shame will live forever. Or at least when I get through editing the earlier stuff which I promised myself I would do 800 years ago. Anyway. I'm sorry for my 'despite'apocalypse and my extended break. Have some apology fluff.

(also for those of you who celebrate, I hope you had a lovely holiday! And for those of you who don't, I'm super sorry about how chaotic shopping has been the past month. I am so so sorry. 80% of it was probably me because I forgot something off the list)


-1933-

-Dust Bowl-


There was a weight on her chest making it impossible to breathe, it constricted around her like a vise, crushing the life from her. Tiny star bursts of light flickered behind her lids as she struggled to fight against it, but she didn't even have the strength to open her eyes. Her whole mind goaded her to fight, to keep going, but even her will became sluggish. Everything hurt, her senses were slow, there was nothing left but weakness.

Her determination melted beneath the comfortable warmth that filled her as she slipped further and further down. It was safe from the tightness that was struggling to smother her, removed from the pain that rippled through her worn body. With a last exhale she succumbed entirely and sank deep into the darkness, letting it envelop her.

Calypso. His voice was a sweet memory in her ear, it crackled with familiar warmth. Her heart sang, it was a voice she had not heard in a very long time. Her eyes weren't open, but she could sense him near her. His presence wrapped around her as she reached out with her senses and she was awash with fresh memory of a burly man with sandy graying hair.

Papa. The word tangled in her throat. Unbridled joy rushed through her in a wave, but it was swallowed quickly by the memory of what she had done. She was so happy, so relieved to be near him again, but he would likely be none too pleased to be reunited. It had been her actions that had torn them apart, her need to prove herself that had killed him.

No, my goose. She felt a gentle tap at her nose, a trick he had used when she was a child to gain her attention. This war was not your fault. Sometimes actions have unintended consequences.

But they were my actions. She was ashamed at how relieved she felt to finally admit to him what she had done. He must have known, on that last day. Must have seen what changes she had wrought, why their peaceful corner of the world was suddenly filled with fire and death. If he hadn't known then, he knew now. He was the one person whose forgiveness she so desperately wanted, but so unequivocally didn't deserve. And they brought death to everyone I loved.

You were a single stone in an avalanche. A part of something much larger than yourself. I, too, was such a stone. Would you blame me for giving you life in the first place?

She shook her head. Of course not. He was not to blame for this. She had made her own decision, and if she had just listened to him as he had asked, this all might not have happened. Her thoughts lingered on his words. What if he hadn't made her, this monstrosity of machine and body? Would he still be alive today? Would the people of Gallifrey still be dancing and laughing in the sun if she had just been a failed experiment?

Hush now. She could feel him closer, his arms wrapping around her. It was an embrace filled with love and sorrow, so powerful it banished her miserable thoughts far away. Think of all the people you've met. Of your friends. How many of them might have perished if you hadn't been there? How many happy thoughts have you brought that would simply wink out of existence if you had never been?

She could see again, but it wasn't his face. They were flashes, bits of memory like torn paper that fluttered by.

Two young boys, richly dressed in their night gowns, begging her for just one more story before she blew out the candles.

Sister Anita snorting suddenly at her off-colored joke at Prioress Florence's expense.

Little green Mesi waving shyly as the yellow afterglow begins to appear around Calypso; the Doctor watches from the console, there's something sad, but also warm in his eyes.

The Doctor's smile, so many of them. Pleasant enough at first. The same practiced grin he uses to stun all of those he favors. But it changes too, and suddenly it's warmer, welcoming, even eager. The face changes and now that grin is so bright and so stunning it burns her to see it again.

Martha's relief at finding her when the Doctor wasn't himself.

Donna's amusement at pretty much every moment Calypso manages to embarrass herself. But also her unwavering friendship that makes Calypso feel like she's found a piece of home.

A game of hide and seek with the youngest Romanov children. Olga whispering hints to assist along the way.

The Tardis, greeting her like a long lost sister.

So many faces and memories they all begin to blur together, but then there's the last. Sharp as a blade and it freezes her to stillness.

It's her father, cradling her tight in his arms. He chuckles and she can feel it boom through her whole body. There's so much love and joy in that smile it radiates out like the sun. "She's a marvel." He says to someone else in the room she cannot see. "She's our wonderful little marvel." He plants a wet kiss on her forehead and affection ripples through her, surging from the memory to herself like a lightning bolt.

A sob caught in Calypso's chest as the memory faded from view.

You're more than I could have ever hoped, my sweet daughter. Never forget that.

Something cracked in her chest, something heavy and hard. It hurt as it split open, but through the pain, she felt the weight of it fall away. Instead of sinking further into the darkness, she felt herself floating.

I'm ready. And she finally was. Somewhere in her heart a little piece fluttered against her serenity. To give up would mean she would never see the Doctor again, but it also meant going home to her family. There was regret there, but also finality. She had tried to be strong, but she had failed. He would understand, he always did. I'm ready to come home.

Yes, her father spoke, but his voice was sad now, and his warm floating presence had begun to fade. But not to me. She was still floating, further and further away from him. She realized it too late, but there was nothing she could do to alter her direction. It's time to wake up.

Her heart thumped, once, and then again. And then it ruptured to life, hammering in her chest like a horse racing across the field. The thunderous sound interrupted the peaceful silence that had enveloped her, pulsing with an undeniable insistence.

Wake up, Calypso!

It was bright now, and the pain returned in a rush. But she was alert and she didn't feel weak. That small piece of her that hadn't been ready to leave, now held on to that potent hope. Life.

That will drove her to move, and with a final burst of effort, her eyes fluttered open.

The Doctor hovered less than an inch above her, his warm lips pressed gently against her own and his hand cradling the back of her head. She sucked in a sharp breath, as though she'd been submerged under water. The raw pain ripped through her, more potent now that she was awake, but it vanished in a blink and her whole body was left tingling.

The Doctor startled backward at her gasp, his lips glowed a hazy yellow and then split into a wide grin as he saw she was awake. The glow dissipated into the air around him as she watched.

"There you are," he said, relief evident in his gaze. "Nearly thought I'd lost you."

Her eyes searched the room, having difficulty remembering quite where she was. But the powerful smell of dust and the ramshackle walls that surrounded her looked familiar. She had fallen asleep in this bed, what felt like days ago. Another Doctor entirely had watched over her then, and she couldn't help but smile that her own had finally returned.

"Thought wrong," her voice crackled, dry and thick from the fever. The Doctor grinned and reached for a glass on a nearby side table where yellow candlelight flickered at the movement, illuminating them both in its warm glow.

She struggled to sit up, and felt a sudden sharp pain in her chest as she leaned against the headboard, her hand reflexively reached to ease it.

"That might be tender, yet." The Doctor looked guilty as he helped her adjust her position. "Think there may have been a broken rib. You sort of stopped breathing and I don't know if you've ever tried to teach a body snatching parasite the basics of CPR, but it wasn't particularly effective." He looked irritated.

"CPR?" She understood the gist, that when she had tried to slip away, the creature had been in control. Though she was a little astonished to hear that he might have tried to help.

"It's a resuscitation procedure to delay-" his mouth hung open for a moment and then quirked into a small smile. "It was to keep your heart beating, but never mind that. What does matter, is that in a moment or two, it should be completely healed."

She frowned, raising her hand from where it was pressed against her side. It still felt tender, but the ache was already fading, as though it were a mere memory of pain. Such a thing was impossible to comprehend- Her eyes narrowed on the Doctor. "What did you do?"

"I fixed you," his thumb brushed against her cheek tenderly, eyes lingering on her face as though he were afraid it might suddenly vanish. "That's all that matters. Here, you must be thirsty."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the offered glass. She felt incredibly parched and she gulped the water in great mouthfuls. Her clothes were still damp from sweat, but she no longer felt the fevered chills throughout her body, nor the exhausting ache. She felt better than she had in days. This could not have been any simple measure. "But I was more specifically asking how you managed to fix me."

His grin faded a little as she locked eyes with him. It was clear she wasn't going to dismiss the miracle as he'd hoped. "Well, it's a complicated process involving biogenetic molecules-"

"Doctor." Her tone wasn't stern, but slightly exasperated as she set aside her empty glass. The way he continued to dance around directness if anything, made her more likely to pursue an answer. "Please, what exactly did you do?"

He opened his mouth to answer, another inflated response perhaps, but he saw something in her gaze that suggested he not push it further and he gave a long resigned sigh. "Regeneration energy. I expended some of my life to do it."

She stared at him, unable to process such a thing. But then the confusion passed and she was angry. "What on Earth made you-"

"You died." His answer startled her to silence. "You died, Calypso." She would have done anything in the world just then, to ease some of the anguish in his voice. "Your heart stopped beating, and for a moment so did mine." His voice was brittle and his eyes were hollow when they met hers. The brave façade was gone, leaving behind only this broken man that she loved so fiercely. He shrugged, trying to rouse a smile. "I gave up some of my life for some of yours. All in all, not such a bad deal."

She struggled for an argument, she wouldn't outright say she wasn't worth such a gift, but she was most certainly thinking it. "But that's your-"

"Yes. And it's mine to do with as I see fit." He took the empty glass and filled it again from a nearby pitcher. He handed it back to her, encouraging her to drink some more "It's done. And there's no lecture in the universe that could change my mind about it."

She accepted the glass, resigned to the truth. It was done. But she had already cost him so much, his home, his people. Now she would take even more. There was no way she could repay such a gift.

"You're worth it, you know." He said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at the candle as it flickered. "You might not think it, the way you are, what you've been through. But you're wrong. I've seen, oh." He sighed. "I've seen so many things. Stars being born, planets coming to alignment, the lifecycle of the Century Trecele Frog. I've seen the birth of the universe, and the emptiness that preceded it." He looked at her then, his earnestness clear in his eyes. "I've seen marvels, and wonders, and astonishments, and then there's you. There's nothing out there quite like you."

Her breath caught in her throat, trying to think of something she could possibly say. To convince him he was wrong was her first thought, but the intensity of his gaze as he spoke was almost enough to make her truly believe it. All she finally managed was a bittersweet smile. It seemed to be enough as he returned it and kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Now, instead of boring you to death with the ramblings of an old man, I should probably find you something to eat." He said, rising from the bed.

"You can't-" She caught his hand as he rose, stilling his movement as she stumbled over her words. "You can't just say something like that and just walk away."

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I'm the Doctor. I can do whatever I like."

She released his hand and slid her legs over the edge of the bed, even as he tried to protest. She stood, slowly, but the weakness seemed to have fled her limbs and she felt remarkably strong.

"And what can I do?" She deliberately leaned forward, forcing him to steady her with his hand at her waist.

He smiled at her, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Anything." He whispered. "You never cease to amaze me." He raised his other hand and cupped her cheek, holding her there for a moment.

His eyes lingered on her own, and then trailed to her mouth. "Calypso," he said with a reluctant sigh. "You should-"

She should eat. She should rest. She should be safe. So many things that should be, so many things that frightened him enough that she could read them in the tired lines around his eyes.

"Probably." She agreed, her eyebrow raised in challenge. She moved forward, standing on her toes as she caught his lips with her own.

It was a gentle kiss, sweet with longing and solace. He was holding back though, still afraid that she might break. She curled her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, wanting it to last just a moment longer before he finally pulled away.

And then the kiss deepened, need fueling them both as he pulled her close. Her whole body arched against him as though starved for sensation.

Relief flooded through her and her stomach fluttered wildly as she felt the heat of him pressing against the length of her body. Both her hands clutched at her shoulders now, a desperateness to keep him close.

His tongue teased her mouth with an expert skill that she knew he'd picked up somewhere since they'd last met. As a moan rose in her throat, she found she didn't mind in the least. His hands had slipped beneath her shirt and she gasped as his fingers traced warm lines along her stomach.

He nibbled at her lips once, and then pressed his mouth into her jaw, trailing down along her throat. "You know," he said, almost casually. She was somewhat satisfied to hear his voice had gone husky. "You were very seriously ill." His lips stopped at her shoulder, and then lingered just at her collarbone, causing her fingers to dig into the muscles in his back. "You should be in bed."

"Is that your professional opinion, as a Doctor?" She asked, looking down at him through hooded eyes.

"Oh, it's-Oh! Yes." He stopped kissing at her throat, a wide grin spreading over his features. "Very nice. I like what you did there!"

Calypso groaned, "You've ruined it." She was struggling not to laugh.

"Right," the Doctor nodded seriously. "Shouldn't have pointed it out like that, definite mood killer. Notes for next time."

"Well that's all well and good for the future, but what good does it do me now?"

"Well," The devilish look had reappeared and he trailed a finger along the neckline of her shirt. "I'll just have to make it up to you, won't I?"