Vastra muttered in Silurian absentmindedly as she carefully painted on the scales on her right arm the names of her Sisters.

While writing, she remembered them. Each letter reminded her of all their dreams. Each finished name spoke of stories that ended too soon. Vastra sometimes imagined them watching her in silence, their faces expressionless but their eyes were judging. She whispered apologies to them for living.

The first time she did this, it was too soon, too fresh. She couldn't even finish with all their memories swirling in her head. One of the others were far more deserving of living than her and it was only by cruel luck her pod survived. Vastra tried again much later when she could feel the fringes of time encroaching on her memories, dulling them. After several shedding cycles erased their names, she would paint them again and relive the memories to make sure she wouldn't forget no matter how painful it was.

Vastra sometimes thought about writing down her memories and preserve them in text, but she felt once she start she wouldn't be be able to stop dwelling in the past. Even with her long lifespan, there wouldn't be enough time to record all of it. She briefly thought of painting or song before dismissing them immediately with a scoff. Her Sisters would rather go deaf than listen to her sing and she refused to dishonor them with her barely discernible stick figures.

But she could maim and kill very well.

Vastra raises her arm and looks at the ink with a critical eye. There, the last of her sisters' name was drawn. Now they could guide her sword arm. This way, the best of her abilities were dedicated to them. Each slash of her blades or a pull of a trigger honored them and in turn she would fight with the fury of all her Sisters. She shook her head and smiled faintly. If they could see her now, they would have called her a sentimental fool and ask if she had eaten properly.

Vastra placed her arm back down onto the table and picked up the brush to write one more name. She brought it close to her scales and stopped. Her hand trembled for a second before continuing to write.

The first letter forced Vastra to remember making her clench her teeth.

Death had a particular scent to it and it nearly drove Vastra mad when she smelled it all around them. It shouldn't be this close or here so soon. It couldn't be coming from her. It shouldn't be this old. She wasn't dead. She wasn't breathing. She was lying so still. Her heart wasn't wasn't dead!

Several letters in made Vastra release a guttural sound from the back of her throat. If Strax hadn't been able to revive her, she would have torn him apart. She pressed forward, determine to not let these memories stop her. It was good to have them.

She died. Not now. No, sometime in the past. Her wife, her precious mammal. Nights spent cuddling in front of the fireplace. No, that wasn't right. Vastra spent those nights cold, shivering under a stolen blanket. A filthy ape surrounded by a gang of vermin screamed for help. Good, another piece of trash gone. She walked on by. No that is wrong! That didn't happen. They were married. She was soft and smelled good, like home. She was beautiful. She... What did she look like? What did she smell like? Ape. Hers? Why did she care about an ape?

Vastra didn't notice that she had snapped her brush, her eyes glazed and her breathing shallow. The memories of that other time had mostly faded, but she couldn't forget completely. She remembered how she relished letting her die. Vastra could still hear that horrible screaming before it was abruptly cut off. It had been so hard to hold on to her fading memories as darker ones replaced them, to remember that it was all wrong, that Jenny lived.

She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. It didn't happen, but it could have happened so very easily. Just one missed encounter changed everything. She cursed in Silurian and got up, flicking her tongue to taste the air. Vastra needed to see her wife. She needed to know this wasn't a dream or a hallucination. She walked quickly out of the room, into the halls, and arrived at the kitchen. Only when she saw her mate did her breathing calmed and the glazed look in her eyes cleared. She watched her mammal silently as she prepared dinner. Vastra flicked her tongue out again, savoring the smell and taste of her mate. Her eyes wandered slowly over Jenny as she tried to memorize everything about her. How could she forget her?

Vastra walked over to Jenny and wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling her neck. Jenny opened her mouth to say something but stopped when she noticed the ink on Vastra's arms. She relaxed into Vastra's arms, content to remind her she was still here. Two years had past since Trenzalore and still that nightmare haunted them. Vastra whispered in Silurian forgetting Jenny couldn't understand her. As she turned Jenny around to face her, she asked Jenny to forgive her. Her hands came up to cup Jenny's face as she vowed to cherish every single moment with her precious wife. And as she lowered her lips to kiss her, she promised to never again forget her.