Want You Safe
He stands with his back to her; tall and straight next to his father; blond on brown; grey on blue. This is the moment she'd hoped never to see. The wolf is at the door, and she has been relegated to the back. Protected, watched over, and utterly helpless.
She is watching her son march off to war.
It was bound to happen some day; she knew that. He's as tall as his father now, and as brave, and perhaps she takes comfort in the fact that he's a little less inclined to engage the enemy in conversation, but she still can't accept the truth in front of her eyes. He's going to take them on to save the universe, and she should be proud, but all the time her heart is breaking because she can't protect him, and he shouldn't be the one protecting her.
Father and son's conversation is whispered, urgent, none of the stilted awkwardness that was apparent when they told her their plan, and she tries to listen in despite her horror at their words. She's angry that he should have to do this; angry at the creatures outside their doors who are baying for blood; angry at the man who admitted he had no other plan, that this was their only hope. He didn't apologise. She wonders if she'll forgive him regardless.
Their conversation is over, and father hands son the closest thing to a weapon he will ever hold. The blue eyes shine with joy; his father smiles sadly, proudly. She wants to smash the thing out of his hands, stamp it into dust, and run away from the end of the universe. She's sensible enough to realise that would never happen; enough herself to know that she would never let it. If she asked they'd all run away, and leave the universe to its fate. That's the only power she has. The only power she would never use.
She could ask.
They leave, casting glances of I'm so sorry and I love you so over their shoulders and the whole TARDIS shudders as the door closes behind them. Her guardian - her jailer, her second self - smiles at her from her side. They'll neither of them sit tight for this one. Perhaps he never really knew them, and perhaps now he never will.
Something bright and golden rises in her chest as she sprints for the door.
They face the screen together. Again.