oOo
The Doctor hurried to the Console Room, figuring that was the best place to start a search; otherwise he'd be randomly hunting through the corridors, and that absolutely would not do. He threw open the door, then came to an abrupt halt.
Tegan was pacing nervously back and forth, wringing her hands. She stopped when she heard the door open, turning a wide-eyed gaze on him. Her cheeks were tear streaked, her eyes red and swollen. "You have to take me to the sickbay," she said, clutching her elbows and moving forward slowly. "I have to know, I thought I could wait till we got back to Terminus, but I have to know now."
"Know what?" the Doctor asked cautiously, although he had a sinking feeling he knew. Once the Master found an effective way of controlling or terrorizing someone, he rarely gave it up.
"If I'm pregnant."
Exactly what he'd feared to hear. He reached out wordlessly and she curled into the comfort of his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. She was barefoot, and he realized suddenly how small she really was; her heels and more importantly her attitude had always made her seem taller. He silently cursed the Master, fluently and in several languages, for having brought her to this state. He cursed himself just as much, for not realizing how much of her good cheer had been a front.
"Come along then, we'll get this straightened out." He spoke soothingly, as to a frightened child, in a voice he hated to have to use on anyone, but especially on Tegan. "Brave heart," he murmured, and she flashed him a brief, watery smile.
The Doctor cleared his throat once as they made their way down the stark white TARDIS corridors, but Tegan merely shook her head. Not ready to talk about, she was signaling, just as he had signaled his willingness to do so should she need to tell. They continued the rest of the way in silence, her footsteps slowing as they approached the familiar sickbay doors. She hesitated on the threshold, then thrust her chin forward and stepped through the doors by herself, head held high, the Doctor following with an approving smile on his lips.
He ran the scanner over her, frowning once at the readings, then adjusting it for human; how had it gotten adjusted for Sontaran, anyway? Another mystery to file away for future review, although he suspected he might not like the answer to that particular question.
Tegan sat quietly, watching as he fiddled with the controls and ran the scanner over her, fiddled with the controls for a bit longer and scanned her again, then turned back to read the results.
"Well?" She couldn't stand waiting a second longer.
He turned to face her with a huge smile on his face, and she felt her tension ease. "Not pregnant."
Tegan dropped her head in her hands and wept in relief. The Doctor stood silently by her side, reaching out once to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. She turned and flung herself into his arms, clutching the collar of his jacket and sobbing uncontrollably. He put his arms around her and let her have her cry out, grateful that the news he'd given her had been what she wanted to hear most in the world.
When the sobs had slowed to hiccups, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. She accepted it gratefully, turning her head away to blow her nose and wipe away the last of the storm of tears. "I just thought of a place I wish I'd taken you," he murmured, helping her to her feet when she indicated a desire to rise from the diagnostic bed.
"Full of weeping women, is it?" she asked, her voice stuffy but a smile on her face.
"Something like that," he concurred. "How about a nice cuppa, hmm? To help settle you down."
"Super, that'd be lovely."
She followed as he led her to the nursery kitchen, pointing out the amenities while the kettle boiled, bustling around finding cups and sugar and milk fit for a grown-up's consumption. "Earl Grey or something a bit more soothing? Chamomile?" He peered over at her. She was sitting in one of the kitchen's 1950's Earth-style chairs, red leather seat, chrome everywhere else. The four chairs matched the table with its red top and chrome sides and legs, and stood out brightly against the white of the rest of the kitchen.
"Something herbal, but not chamomile." She pulled a face. "My gran used to give me that whenever I visited, and my mother always made me drink it, nasty stuff."
"So much for it having a soothing influence." The Doctor's eyes were twinkling, and Tegan's grin made a reappearance before once again disappearing.
He took the chair opposite hers as they each sipped appreciatively at their tea. He'd given her something vaguely apple in scent and taste, and taken the Earl Grey for himself. After a few companionable moments passed, he cleared his throat. Signaling again. This time, she waited for him to speak. "Tegan, I know you probably don't want to talk about it..."
"If I don't tell you Nyssa will be after me to see a counselor on Terminus," she said with a snort. "Hah, even if I do tell you she'll still be after me." She rubbed her eyes. "I must look a right mess."
The Doctor reached across the table and took her free hand in his. "Tell me whatever part you can bear," he said quietly.
"It's not so much what he did this time," Tegan finally said, speaking barely above a whisper. "Oh yes, he raped me again, and said all sorts of rubbish I know wasn't true...except I think," her voice sank even lower, "it was true. Some of it."
"Tell me."
There was nothing but sympathy in his voice, written on every feature of his face, and oh, how she wanted to tell him. But if she did, truly told him everything, would that look change to disgust? She didn't think she could risk it, and shook her head.
"Tegan, you're afraid of something; I don't think I've seen that look in your eyes outside of our encounters with the Mara." Damn him and his perceptiveness anyway; how could he tell she had that same fear of losing herself to someone else's will? "You can tell me. You know I won't judge."
Double damn him for that as well, knowing that there was guilt laced in with the fear. "You don't know what I did...what I let him do."
"Tegan you were completely under his power. Anything you did, anything you allowed him to do, was because of that power he held over you. Remember that."
There was an almost hypnotic quality to his voice, soothing, giving her the courage to say the words. "He didn't just rape me, not after the first time. And it was more than once, not like I told Ace and that future you." The one who'd admitted to having regrets about his relationship with her whilst still in his fifth self's form. The one sitting across from her right now, still holding her hand in his. "After a while, I let him touch me, just like I did here." There, it was said. But the Doctor remained silent. Waiting.
Tegan sighed. He wanted all of it, did he? Then here it was, and if he hated her for it, then so be it. It would be a relief to get it out, no matter what the consequences. "I didn't just let him touch me, I...responded." The tears had started again, unnoticed by her but unmissed by the Doctor. "I even think I could say I enjoyed it, towards the end. Like I'd gotten so used to the bloody situation, like some sort of sick version of Stockholm Syndrome, I missed him when he didn't come by to see me at night."
Reaching forward slowly, tenderly, the Doctor wiped the tears away with his thumb. First one side, then the other. Then he pulled her hands toward his face and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. "As if he'd given you some sort of hypnotic command, is that it? Or possibly drugs, to make you more amenable to his advances? And then of course, you felt guilty afterwards, didn't you. Just as you do now."
Hope warred with anger on her face. "Drugs? Hypnotism? That's you clutching at straws, Doctor."
He shook his head, keeping a firm grasp on her hands when she tried to jerk them away. "No, that's centuries of experience in dealing with the Master. I know his methods. Mental torture on top of physical abuse on top of isolation...classic methodology if less orthodox execution. But in your case, of course, he had an ulterior motive."
"Fathering a son to become a future host," Tegan said, the hope winning out, at least for the moment. But only a moment; he watched it fade away as she shook her head. "I don't see how you don't hate me, when I hate myself so much," she said through clenched teeth, looking away.
"Intended fatherhood was one ulterior motive," the Doctor corrected her. "The other was exactly what he's accomplished; to make you doubt yourself. To hate yourself. By doing so, you let him have the final laugh."
She fought in earnest to free her hands at those words. "Let me go!" she cried furiously. But she'd returned her attention fully to him, eyes locked with his. The exact result he'd hoped for. "I'll die before I let that bastard have the final laugh on anything!"
Unexpectedly, the Doctor smiled. "That's the Tegan I remember! Never give up, never surrender. I always admired that about you, you know."
She was caught off guard this time, and stopped struggling to free her hands to stare at him in surprise. "You admired me?"
"Of course," he replied simply. "I admire anyone brave enough to take on the TARDIS and traveling about the universe vagabond-style. Your first trip may have been inadvertent, you may have spent a great deal of time telling me in no uncertain terms how much you wanted to go home, but no matter where or when we ended up, you plowed in with your full-speed-ahead, take-no-prisoners, damn-the-torpedoes attitude, and yes, I admired that. I still do." He released her hands, finally, and sat back, gauging the effect of his words.
Tegan had a glazed look about her, but the tears had stopped. She lifted her hands to her cheeks to scrub away the ones he hadn't already taken care of, then lowered her chin into her hands and just stared at him. "I thought I drove you mad."
"Oh, you did that as well," he agreed cheerfully. "There were plenty of times I felt like shoving you out an airlock, figuratively speaking. But you kept me on my toes, and I appreciate that as well."
"Aren't you full of Earth sayings tonight," was all she could find to say to that compliment. She'd never taken them well, compliments, not even as a small child, confident that the world centered around her small, noisy self. And two in a row from the Doctor, well, it was flustering, to say the least. But he'd succeeded in making her feel better; maybe his assertions about the Master were true, after all. "Drugs? Hypnotism?"
"Post-hypnotic suggestion, more likely, and none of that Earth style mesmerism, either. Gallifreyan hypnotism is a whole different creature."
"So he could make someone do something they normally wouldn't?"
The Doctor nodded. "Yes. So could I, for that matter, but I rarely choose to do so. And then only if it's absolutely necessary. I could turn you into a cold-blooded assassin if I wanted to. Just as the Master could make you think that you wanted his hands on your body."
She shivered. "I never did understand how I could just let him do those things, and not fight him like I did the first time."
"Now you know," the Doctor said firmly. "I can't say the nightmares will completely go away now, but perhaps you might consider taking Nyssa up on her offer of a counselor when you return to Terminus."
She flashed him a weary smile. "That is, if the TARDIS takes us straight there."
"Oh, she will," the Doctor assured her. "Especially with a baby on board. You'd be surprised how well-behaved she becomes when there's a small life to keep safe."
"Thank you." That assurance meant more to her than any amount of therapy, the knowledge that her son was going to not only be with her, but be with her in their chosen home. She opened her mouth to thank him, then realized belatedly what he'd just said to her. "Hey! How did you know about the nightmares?"
"An educated guess?" Tegan glared at him and he shrugged. "Nyssa told me."
"Busybody," Tegan groused, but with no real rancor. Her friend was just trying to help, after all.
"A busybody with your best interests at heart," the Doctor corrected her. "Just like me."
"Thank you." Tears threatened again, but with nothing of self-pity about them. Tegan cleared her throat to keep them at bay. "For everything. For coming to save us when it wasn't your fight. For giving me back my son. For this." She spread her hands wide, taking in the kitchen and the impromptu therapy session and all that went with it. "Thank you."
"You are quite welcome." His tone softened. "Perhaps you'd like that bath now."
With a start, Tegan realized she'd been sitting across from him all this time clad in nothing but a silky green bathrobe. She flushed. "Why didn't you tell me to get dressed?" she asked crossly, to cover for her sudden confusion.
Confusion that the Doctor now shared. He frowned. "You were a bit distressed, Tegan; what difference would it make what you were wearing?"
"Right, of course. I could be stark naked and you wouldn't notice." She was taking defense in anger, but defense against what? Just because some future self had told her this self, the one staring at her in alarm right now, had feelings of some kind for her, regrets about not acting on those feelings, didn't make it true. He might have said them just to comfort her.
No, that was the Master's voice, not her own. "Could I be?" she wondered aloud, her anger draining away as swiftly as it had arrived. "Could I be stark naked and you wouldn't notice?"
She'd driven him speechless with that question, and chuckled at the cornered expression on his face. "Don't worry, Doc, I don't expect you to answer that. Yes, I'd love that bath now. I think I can find my way to the nursery from here." She stood up, clutching the robe tightly as she navigated the narrow space between the table and the stove. Her knees brushed his as she passed, and she felt a tingle up her spine. A familiar tingle, one which she forced herself to ignore as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek for the second time that night.
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A/N: Getting close to the end now. Hope everyone is still enjoying the ride! R&R if you are! :)