So, guys, this is it! The last chapter, the grand finale! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with Erica this far. Thank you to margie-me and dancer4813 for always reviewing, and thank you to anyone who enjoyed any part of this story. It's been great, guys.
Oh! And there's a sequel in the works. Hopefully it'll be out by the end of summer, but no promises.
Enjoy this, guys. You deserve it.
Chapter 29- Making and Keeping Promises
The next morning, I woke up in my own bed, the blankets carefully tucked around me. I was still fully clothed. I glanced at my nightstand and found a plate of Jammy Dodgers sitting ready for me, along with a note, my name elegantly written across it. I quickly grabbed the note and unfolded it, rubbing my eyes. It said:
Dear Erica,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I'll be far, far away from you and Naomi, which is probably what you want. I'm leaving you this note so you know I'll never come calling again. I promise.
You and Naomi have been through hell. Naomi's had her mind invaded, and you've blazed through time and space to find her, taking hit after hit because of me. You both need to recover from your treks across the universe, and you can't do that if I'm around. I bring danger and destruction. Entire species have declared war on me. I have people who want to kill me just because of my name. That's no environment for people to recover from what you two have been through. And I can't drag you into anything else. We haven't known each other long, but I do care about you, Erica. You're my friend. I like to think that I'm yours. I'm doing this for you and your sister's safety. You two have had enough insanity raining down on you—I don't want to pour on any more.
I am so glad I could service you. Wait, that doesn't sound right. What I mean is: I'm glad I could be of service to you. Helping you rescue your sister was an honor. It was an absolute pleasure playing chauffeur for you.
Thank you so much for everything. The good, the bad, and the in-between. You taught me a lesson in humanity I won't soon forget.
Love, the Doctor.
No. No. Absolutely not. This couldn't happen, not now. My life had just gotten better, the person who made it so couldn't drop out of it now.
"Doctor?!" I exclaimed, crushing the note in my fist and bolting out of bed. I thundered down the hall and into the living room, where, by some miracle, the TARDIS stood, looking like it hadn't moved since yesterday.
"Oh, thank you, TARDIS," I gushed, diving straight through the doors.
"What's wrong with you, old girl?" the Doctor said, his back to me as he pounded on the console. "Why won't you take off? Sexy, what's going on?"
I couldn't stop myself. I just couldn't. "You call the TARDIS 'Sexy'?" I asked in disbelief.
The Doctor froze now that he knew I was there. His head lowered slowly, realizing that I had now rendered his grand goodbye gesture null and void. "So that's why," he said, mostly to himself.
"Why what?"
"Why she won't dematerialize. She doesn't want me to leave."
"She's not the only one."
The Doctor swiveled around, and I frantically brushed my tangled hair out of my eyes. "I only just left that note," he said, eyeing the paper crumpled in my hand. "Literally only two minutes ago. I must've woken you up."
"Then thank God I'm a light sleeper." I jogged up the stairs and to the console, stopping in front of the Doctor. "Doctor, why would you do this?" I asked plainly. "I honestly don't know why this is the decision you'd make."
"I told you," he said, gesturing to the note. "You and Naomi need time to recover, and you can't do that if I've come to stay."
"That's not what I mean and you know it," I retorted harshly. I softened my tone and put away my anger—if this really was the last time I spoke to him, I wasn't going to poison it with malice. "Doctor, why don't you want to see us again?"
"You've got it all wrong," he croaked. I could see his hearts in his sad, green eyes, and both of them broke as I looked. "I do want to see you again. But for your own health, I can't. What if something bad happens to you?"
"And what makes you think I'll let something bad happen to us?" I said. "Look, Doctor, I still want to travel with you."
"But you got Naomi back," he interrupted. "You only asked to travel with me because you wanted to find her."
"At first," I explained. "But you can't honestly think that's the only reason I'll ever travel with you?" The Doctor had crafted a carefully blank face, but I could see his charade, like mine last night, would break any minute.
"Would you really leave your sister behind?" he asked cuttingly.
"Of course not!" I exclaimed. "What makes you think I will? Doctor, she and I talked last night, while you were still cleaning up. She wants to see the universe just as much as I do. So, if you don't mind, she'd like to come along with us."
The Doctor swallowed, looking away. "So would I," he said, turning to the console and leaning heavily upon it. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not coming back. She won't have a chance."
"Doctor, you can't cut yourself out of our lives," I pleaded. "We want you with us. You're my friend."
"I'm a trigger," he spat. "You can't get better when I'm around. I need to go."
I fell silent, afraid. I couldn't let him leave us, not permanently, even though he seemed set on taking that path. Well, I would just have to change it.
"Okay," I began meekly. "You're right. Naomi and I have some things to work out between us, and we can't do that if we're gallivanting across the stars." I paused, unsure of whether he was listening. "But as soon as we're better, we're going with you, okay? Just give us a few months to get ourselves together, and I promise we will, and then come pick us up." I stepped closer to him, hoping valiantly he chose to listen. "Give us a few months, and we'll be right as rain."
The Doctor finally looked at me. A tiny bud of hope blossomed through the sadness in his eyes. "You really know how to get what you want, don't you?"
I shrugged, smiling. "You said it yourself: I'm unstoppable."
The Doctor smiled in a way I'd never seen. I saw hope and relief and sadness in that smile, and I've tried and tried again to think of a perfect way to describe it, but I honestly didn't know how to until now.
In that smile, I saw how truly alone he felt, and how grateful he was for me.
The Doctor and I made short work of our promises to each other: I promised to work everything out with Naomi (she still had some emotional issues to deal with) as long as he promised to visit every once in a while. It was a nice deal, because he wouldn't know if I kept up on my end unless he kept up on his. When I told him so, he laughed and called me a con artist.
Finally, the time came to say our goodbyes. Except they weren't really goodbyes, more like I'll-see-you-soons. When I gave him one last hug and strode out of the TARDIS, I knew that one of two possibilities would happen: either the Doctor would jump right from this moment to a visit next month, and the month after that, so it didn't really feel like a goodbye to him; or he would starve himself of us as long as he possibly could, postponing the inevitably permanent farewell we would someday have to say. I couldn't really blame him for whichever one he chose—I'd do the same thing.
I strode through the TARDIS doors, glancing over my shoulder at the Doctor one last time. I closed the doors behind me, running my hand down the blue panels.
"Thanks, darling," I said. "You really took me under your wing. I'll be seeing you soon enough." The TARDIS responded with a deep bell toll, signaling happiness.
I leaned forward a bit and dropped my voice to a whisper. "And does he really call you 'Sexy'?"
The signature vwoorp started up, which I took as my cue to step back. I watched the TARDIS fade, blowing my hair back and carrying my best friend away. I took a deep breath and turned away once the ship disappeared completely. I felt hollow and lonely—when one loses their trusted guide, their North Star through a whole sea of crazy, one isn't left many alternative things to feel.
I went back to my room and crawled into bed, unsure of what would happen next.
And that brings us right up to now—well, almost. I sit here and type this, and it feels strange that my writing has come so close to the present. You see, I decided to make a record of everything I'd done with the Doctor when I finally explained to James and Maya the full story. Well, that's just what they thought it was: a story. I think James might've started believing me, but Maya thinks I made all that up as a cover for something sinister like stealing the Hope Diamond. But she said that it sounded like something out of a book, and I thought, why not?
I write this so I never forget how far I've come and how far I can go. And it helps me tell my stories to Naomi the right way, so she learns the same lessons I did. Naomi and I are so much better, now that we know what each of us felt. Naomi's whopping guilt and my dangerous dedication to her have nearly been repaired. Naomi will still blame herself for things out of her control and I'll still shove my emotions away to care for her, but now we know how to deal with those feelings so we don't hold them over our own heads.
The Doctor stops in for a day every month or so, always bringing us new stories to tell. River (the real River) came with him once, who got along with Naomi like cake and ice cream. Every time the Doctor visited, he saw how much better we'd gotten, and always hoped I would declare Naomi and I ready to go; but I had to break that hope almost every time, because…well, we just weren't.
Through incredibly lucky timing, the Doctor "happened" to visit on Thanksgiving. He swore it had been an accident, but his bringing extra cranberry sauce told a different story. We sat him down and enjoyed a good, old-fashioned, American holiday, stuffing our faces full.
While I dug into the stuffing, Naomi asked, "Doctor, you told me that the TARDIS translates any language into something we can understand."
The Doctor nodded, gravy dripping down his face. "That's right," he said, wiping his mouth.
"And you're speaking…what is it, again?"
"Gallifreyan."
"Right. So if the TARDIS is translating for us, why do you still sound British?"
I froze mid-chew. That had never occurred to me. I looked at Naomi and then the Doctor, puzzled as to why his accent never triggered that question. The Doctor, though, had had his answer ready for a while, by the sound of it.
"My language has a certain rhythm," he began. "A specific cadence that's hard to fit into a lot of other languages. Luckily, it fits in well with English, but not with an American accent. An English one is the closest Earth dialect Gallifreyan can fit into."
"So the TARDIS doesn't just translate the words," Naomi summarized. "It translates the way they're said as well."
"Huh," I said. "I never thought about that."
"You lived in the TARDIS and never asked why the Doctor didn't sound American?" Naomi said eyebrows raised.
"I had other things on my mind than his accent!"
"Oi!" the Doctor interrupted. "It's Thanksgiving. I won't have any fighting!"
"You're English!" I exclaimed. "You don't even celebrate Thanksgiving!"
We finished our meal with witty banter, and Naomi made the Doctor promise to take her Black Friday shopping (which is possibly the best use of the TARDIS I've seen yet) once she slept off the tryptophan—she never took on Black Friday sluggish and sleepy.
While Naomi lay down to sleep, the Doctor and I cleared the table together, chatting about each other's activities. I'd incorporated Just Desserts and planned on opening a second location, and the Doctor had reconnected with some friends: Amy, the woman Algo had assumed was his wife, and her husband Rory. When I asked if River knew them, he pressed his lips together like he had a secret and only said that they had a complicated relationship.
The Doctor and I retired to the living room to chat, drinking glasses of wine. Small talk took more effort now, because the elephant in the room had suddenly blown its trunk: the TARDIS. She sat in our living room, reminding us both of our promises. I knew exactly what would happen next.
"So, Erica," he began, slurring the letter at the end of my name as usual. "Do you think you and Naomi are ready?"
He always asked, and I always gave him the same answer: no, we'll see next time. But unlike all the other times, I knew what the not-so-distant future held. "Almost," I said. "I promise. We just need a few more weeks."
The Doctor looked away and sighed, taking another swig of wine. I hated disappointing him, but I had to make sure Naomi and I stayed safe. "Come back for Christmas," I suggested. "It's only a month away. Naomi and I will be perfect then. And besides, we can't celebrate Christmas without you."
The Doctor swiveled his head back to me, his eyes inquisitive. "Why not?" he asked. "Has a future me come to see you in the past and tell you I must visit on Christmas?"
"No, no, nothing complicated like that," I assured, giggling. "Not everything has to be a great big space-and-time paradox prevention thing, you know."
"Then why must I come on Christmas?"
I rolled my eyes. "Because you're family, doofus."
He smiled back. "Christmas is it," he promised, raising his glass. I clinked mine against his and we both drank in celebration, except the Doctor spat his right back into the glass.
"Sorry, Erica," he said, frowning cartoonishly at it. "I couldn't stand it any longer."
I almost kicked the glass out of his hand.
After a particularly harrowing Black Friday expedition, the Doctor said goodbye to us, the last goodbye for a while. Naomi and I set on arranging our affairs while we were gone (even though it was a time machine, the TARDIS's navigation wasn't exactly spot-on). After that, we began jogging every day together through Lurie Garden: we had to be in tip-top shape to run with the Doctor.
And that brings us totally to the present. It's Christmas Eve now, and I sit here, typing and sipping hot cocoa and remembering. I know exactly what will happen tomorrow: the Doctor will arrive, and we'll have our Christmas celebration together, and the Doctor will tell us stories. I'll ask him if he jumped straight from Thanksgiving to here, and he'll say he didn't, but I'll be able to tell he's lying. And then Naomi and I will lock the building up and argue over where we're going first, and then the TARDIS will take us to the wrong place anyway. And everything about that day will be amazing, and exciting, and right.
I'm going to print this out and leave it on the table in case James and Maya come looking, depending on how long we're gone. James, Maya, if you're reading this now, just know that I'm safe, Naomi's safe, and you get split managerial duties of Just Desserts while I'm gone. This is where Naomi and I will be: with the Doctor in the TARDIS, traveling through time and space and seeing what they have to offer.
I can't think of any place better to be.
THE END