Chapter 26- Memory Lane
The Aligrena machine felt around in my mind, seeking out the most emotional memories to prime the ship for takeoff. The back of my head began to ache from the strain. My surroundings suddenly blurred and changed, the new environment painted right over the old one, and became North Star Hospital, just a few blocks away from my childhood home in a suburb of Chicago. I don't know how, but I knew that I was reliving the day I forced myself to grow up: the day Naomi was born and the day my mother died.
Of course it had picked this memory to start with. This day, September 18th, marked my transformation from innocent child to mama bear in training. I looked down at my newly-born sister, holding her tenderly in my mother's hospital room. Tears poured down my face, both happy and sad. The nurses had taken Mom's body away, my grieving father with her, and left Omie and I in the care of the midwife and a grief counselor. That day, I promised Naomi that I would care for her even if the sky fell, even though it felt like it already had.
A strange, clear haze passed over the walls; a new memory had replaced the old. I was still in the hospital, but I'd grown a lot since my last visit—I'd just turned eighteen. Oh, I remember this: it was the day our father died. I held a wailing Naomi, trying to hold back my own sobs for her sake. We sat in thinly-cushioned wooden chairs, in North Star ER again, after hearing the news that Dad hadn't made it out after a head-on collision. I thought to myself over and over, Omie's your responsibility. It's up to you now.
"Who's g-gonna take care of us now?" Naomi sniffled.
"I will," I vowed. "Even if the sky falls."
My memory fast-forwarded to the day the Aligrena broke into our apartment and abducted Naomi, the day I met the Doctor. Then to when we fought the Craggaron in Athens, and realizing that even though the Doctor had lied to me, he only did it to help. And then to the Star Ariel, Whittaker's disgusting breath hot on my face. And then to Herod, to Hekate, to Clara. To all the people we made worse.
Then I thought of meeting River Song, and Algo, and all the people we saved in Athens and at Luna University that would never know it. I thought of all the times the Doctor and I would embrace, healing each other's hearts after an adventure with a heavy toll. I thought of how he always kept me safe and looked out for me, even when I disobeyed an order or stormed away from him after a fight. I thought of how I would always look out for the Doctor in return, never letting the memory of his wrongs spoil my reminder of all his rights.
In fact, thinking of the Doctor brought out a whole new well of emotions. He was the first person I trust with my life (and have trusted with my life) after Dad died, and probably the best friend I'd ever had. Ever will have, too. I thought of him and all of our adventures, and how nothing could stop the pair of us if it wanted to. We were the best thing the universe ever made, and not even it could stop us.
I thought of all those things and every emotion I felt with them and offered it all up to the Aligrena engines, which greedily swallowed every memory like a starving animal. I magnified every feeling the memories induced, straining to get the big space boat running…but the Doctor had been right.
I couldn't do it.
I gasped wildly for breath, falling to my knees as a Dalek from Luna University fired a bolt of energy at Clara Oswald, electrifying her. The Emotion Reader stayed latched onto me and sapped my power. I heard the Doctor calling my name from far away; he slurred the last letter of it, like he always does. I threw myself back into the present, trying to keep myself from throwing up, fainting, and having a seizure all at once. I suddenly became aware of arms around me, sleeved in velvet and as strong as steel. I shook my head to clear it and found the Doctor hugging me close, like the day I'd kept Naomi from falling apart in the hospital. He stroked the back of my head and rocked me back and forth, his ragged, panicked breathing loud in my ear.
That was when I realized I was crying.
"It…it hurts," I rasped into the shoulder of his green jacket. "It hurts so bad." Living with these memories hurt enough, but seeing them one after the other was debilitating. I didn't know how I'd lived through all that.
"I'm so sorry, Erica," the Doctor said, his voice strained with panic. "So terribly sorry."
"I'm not strong enough, Doctor," I said, my own voice breaking. "I should've listened to you."
Unbelievably, he chuckled.
"Erica," he said, a bit of humor coming back. "When have you ever listened to me?"
His remark made me feel a million times better, just enough to pull it together and get my head back in the game. I had to if I ever wanted to save Naomi.
"Can you use your Buzz Wand on the Reader?" I asked. "Make it work better?"
"Not quickly enough," the Doctor replied, sobering up. "Listen, we're running out of time."
"Don't we always?" I quipped. I expected maybe a chuckle or a smile from him, but I had no such luck. I saw a muscle tightening in the very back of his jaw, like it always did when he came to a terrible conclusion.
"There's something I can do," he said hesitantly. "It's pretty invasive, but it can save us."
"Well, don't leave me in suspense!"
He pursed his lips, unwilling to reveal his solution. "I need to go inside your mind," he said, searching my face for my reaction.
You've got to be kidding me, I thought.
"You can do that, too?" I said. "What the hell can't you do?"
"Erica, I need you to focus," he said. "Will you allow me to go inside your mind?" He almost seemed like he wanted me to say no. I've never felt a stronger sense of dread.
"Will it hurt?" I asked. I no longer cared if I felt like a child.
I could almost see his hearts break. "Yes."
I took a deep breath. "Go for it," I said, reaching within me for whatever strength I had left.
The Doctor nodded and reluctantly placed his hands on the sides of my head, splitting his fingers at my ears. He swallowed nervously and I raised my eyebrows, urging him to go on. His eyes closed and his lips parted just slightly.
"Geronimo," he whispered, reaching out to my mind.
Oh, my lord, the pain. The Doctor hadn't been kidding when he said it would hurt. But it wasn't the physical kind of pain—no, in that aspect, the procedure was easier than getting a Band-Aid. It was the heartache I felt, heartache that blossomed where I thought the stream had dried up, when I thought I'd exhausted every emotion.
Oh, my God, I thought desperately. Where the hell is this coming from?
Erica, it's only me, the Doctor thought. All this is just me.
Oh, God. I'm so sorry.
A thousand years of heartbreak coursed through me, making me forget my own pain. Oh, the Doctor's had to bear such terrible things: leaving his beloved granddaughter in the 22nd century; watching his friend's mind get swapped with that of an unfair Time Lord's; losing a boy genius because he couldn't get the TARDIS working quickly enough; leaving his friend behind because the High Council of Gallifrey said so; having to wipe the memory of one of his best friends so she could live, even though she'll never remember him; leaving behind a sobbing young woman on a beach, standing so close but so far.
Leaving, losing, leaving, losing. Every time the Doctor left someone, or someone left him, he felt their departure raw, like it had hurt the worst. If it were me, I think I'd just stop bringing people along and confine myself to myself—it certainly seemed easier instead of always knowing your friends will leave you at some point. But the Doctor loved people, needed people, and always would. That's what made him remarkable: even though he wasn't human, he was the most human person I've ever known.
"D-Doctor," I stuttered, overcome by the sheer weight of his sadness.
"I know," he whispered hoarsely, quiet tears streaming down his face.
The names of the dear friends he's made across the universe streamed through my mind with no end: Susan-Barbara-Ian-Vicki-Steven-Katarina-Sara-Dodo-Polly-Ben-Jamie-Victoria-Zoe-Brigadier-Liz-Jo-Sarah Jane-John-Mike-Harry-Leela-K9-Romana-Adric-Nyssa-Tegan-Turlough-Kamelion-Peri-Mel-Ace-Grace-Charley-C'rizz-Lucie-Tamsin-Molly-Rose-Jack-Mickey-Martha-Donna-Astrid-Christina-Wilf-Amy-Rory-Craig-Alfie-River-Susan-Barbara-Ian…
Suddenly, the Aligrena ship's lights blazed on, and a sound suspiciously like an engine rumbling to life echoed through the cavern. Robotic alarms blared to life. Through my tears, I saw the Emotion Reader clamped around Naomi's head suddenly whiz up to the ceiling, setting her free.
The Doctor had done the impossible and saved us.
My own Emotion Reader unclasped from my temples and shot upward, releasing me. I collapsed into the Doctor's arms while both of us cried. His hands fell from my head, cutting off the stream of his sorrow. We sat on the ground together, a huddled, tearstained pile of uselessness.
"I'm s-so sorry," I choked out. The Doctor's mind might not connect to mine anymore, but I couldn't forget what I saw and felt. I never could. I wouldn't dare to try.
Saying nothing, the Doctor pulled me closer and buried his face in my shoulder, like a child looking for comfort. I stroked the back of his head, trying to quell my tears. One of us needed to be strong, and the Doctor's been the strong one ever since I met him. It's time I repaid him for that.
"I wish you didn't have to see all that," he mumbled, sniffling.
"I wish you didn't have to feel it," I countered.
It amazed me that any man- even an alien- could possibly handle all of that heartbreak and still act normal (well, normal was relative with the Doctor). But I saw good things in his mind, too; the things that made it worth all that heartbreak. He'd had lots and lots of good times with those friends, times he would treasure as long as he lived. But living with that sadness was harder than anything I'd ever done or will do. And sitting on that cavern floor, I realized that the Doctor wasn't just smart and kind and amazing and human: he was also the bravest person I will ever know.
"Erica?" an achingly-familiar voice said, croaky with disuse.
Relief spread through me; Naomi had awoken at last. "I'm here, Omie," I called. "I'll be right there."
The Doctor lifted his head from my shoulder, his eyes red. His expression broke my heart. "Your sister's awake," he said, as if I didn't already know.
"I still need to take care of you," I replied, wiping the wetness from his face with gentle thumbs.
"I'll be okay," he said, putting on a brave face even though tears still stained it. "I'm always okay. I'm the King of Okay."
I bit my lip and nodded; after what I'd just seen, he was most certainly never okay. "I'll be right back," I promised. I tilted his face down so I could press my lips to his forehead, like he'd done to me after the Star Ariel disaster. I offered him a small, encouraging smile before untangling his limbs from around me and climbing to my feet, ruffling his hair one last time in an attempt at comfort. He smiled up at me, and I could see heavy sadness in that smile, the sadness he hid behind uncontrollable body movements and goofy grins. This one time he couldn't hide it, though. He just didn't have the strength.
I would take care of both the Doctor and Naomi, I resolved.
I scurried to Naomi's bedside just as her restraints withdrew, allowing her to move. She blinked up at me dazedly, the Aligrena ship lights blinding her.
"What happened?" she asked groggily. "Where am I?"
"You're safe, and that's all that matters," I said, grabbing her hand. I clutched her hand close to my chest, gripping it tightly. Oh, God, I was about a centimeter away from crying again—after so long, I'd actually found Naomi again. It turns out that happy memories can make you cry just as much as sad ones.
"Erica, what happened to me?" Naomi pleaded, squinting. "Why's it so loud? And why are those lights so bright?"
"I'll explain everything later," I promised, wrapping my free hand around her arm. Pulling her into a sitting position, I continued, "We just need to get out of here, okay?"
She opened her mouth, but a loud, cracking noise filled the cavern as huge pieces of rock rained down around us, one coming so close that dust flew into my eyes.
"Erica!" Naomi shrieked, clutching me close to her. "The sky's falling!"
Suddenly, the Doctor was by my side, scanning Naomi with the sonic screwdriver. "Hello, Naomi!" he exclaimed like an announcer at a baseball game. "I'm the Doctor. I'm an alien from outer space, I've got two hearts, I'm eleven hundred years old, and your sister and I are going to get you out of here."
Naomi looked from him to me, alarmed. "It's okay, Omie, he's a good guy," I reassured. "He helped me find you."
A huge shard of rock hit the floor on the other side of Naomi's table, startling all three of us. Naomi frantically scooted off the table to avoid it, but her legs collapsed beneath her; she only stayed semi-upright because of my tight hold on her. The Doctor quickly swept her into his arms, pulling her out of mine as he set off in the direction of the TARDIS, walking with a grace he pulled out only in urgent situations. Above us, the Aligrena ship gave a mighty grinding noise as the lights blazed so brightly it seemed a second sun had formed beneath the Earth's surface. With one last bang, the Aligrena ship vanished, leaving a gaping, empty space for more stone to fall. Darkness invaded the cavern, with only the light bulb at the top of the TARDIS giving us any clue where to run. When we reached the ship, light poured through the windows from inside, allowing us a bit more guidance.
"Open the door for me," the Doctor ordered, his hands full with Naomi. I lunged inside the TARDIS and held the door open for him, moving behind it to give him as much room as possible. He hurried inside and up the stairs to the console, careful to jolt Naomi around as little as possible. He settled her into one of the chairs as I ran up behind him, knelt next to her, and grasped her hand again, looking over my shoulder to see the Doctor beginning his erratic waltz around the controls. A deep bell toll rang through the console room and the crystal pump began moving, and the Doctor looked at me, no less serious, but a lot more relieved.
"She's going to be okay, Erica," he vowed.
I nodded, desperately wishing I could promise the same thing for him.