Those Who Aren't Afraid to Fly

Season 1 Episode 2 - Mending

A/N: Yay! Chapter 2 is here! This is just a reminder that Gee and I do this on our own time, of our own free will, and mostly for everyone (and ourselves) so any feedback is welcome and appreciated a LOT (a review is basically payment)

Romana could barely get herself out of the bed, it was so comfortable. This is better, she thought to herself groggily. Much better than...her eyes flew open. Just last night she was on a scratchy sleeping pad before the slavers' came and she was shot and where in Rassilon's name was she now?

Bolting up, the Time Lady took an inventory of her surroundings. She was in a small, wooden room with a window letting light sufficient to see but not disturb someone sleeping. Currently, she sat upon a finely woven bed with a light blanket of an unfamiliar cloth, most closely resembling a traditional Japanese bed roll. She herself was dressed in a lightweight sand coloured dress. The corner held a shelf. She blinked.

It was a rather cushy place for imprisonment. Were the slavers running out of slave quarters? No, that was ridiculous. But what in the universe was this place?

Still, she steeled herself; the battle had not been going well last time she checked. Even if she had really seen the Doctor and Adric, which she both doubted and hoped against, there was no way they could turn the tide of the confrontation. In her hearts she had a sinking suspicion that their enemy would only keep one rebel leader alive; two at most to play off one another for information. All in all, the chances were she was alone and at the enemy's mercy. She stood up, feeling weak, but not in nearly as much pain as she expected to be in. Curiouser and curiouser, to quote that horribly overquoted earth children's book the Doctor was so enamored with. There was only a faint mark above her left breast where she had been shot.

This wasn't making any sense; she was missing something important. But first, to arm herself. She grabbed the shelf, which was made of a wood she had learned to recognize in the time she had spent with the Tharils. It was easy to tear with the grain, but strong against it, making it useful for quick, improvised furniture and more importantly, weapons. She leaned it against the wall, and gave as hard of a kick as her weakened frame could manage. But, sure enough, a shard large enough to function as a stake came off. Romana was picking off stray splinters for a sharper point rapidly, but not rapidly enough. The door knob already began jostling, and Romana scampered to hold her haphazard weapon at the ready. The door slid open...

"Want some riverfruit?" she heard as she prepared to thrust. Shocked, Romana saw her intruder: it was Adric, with a bowl of fruit cradled in his arm (that he had evidently sampled, judging by the juice on his chin). Noticing the makeshift stake pointed at him, he backed away a step. "Or...not…" he trailed off, closing the door with an expression of growing concern.

"Wait-Adric, I didn't-I thought-Oh, what is going on?!" Romana exclaimed. Cautiously, Adric began to open the door back up, and put another piece of fruit in his mouth.

"The Tharils told me to wake you up and give you some riverfruit? Well, it's not actually riverfruit, it's this planets equivalent, but it reminds me of it. It's good. Not quite as good as actual riverfruit, but good," he said, offering the bowl to her once more. Realizing that part of her weakness was doubtless from not eating in hours, she took it and tried a piece. It tasted sweet, with a slight spicy kick. Since she had never had an opportunity to eat the riverfruit Adric mentioned, she'd have to take his word for it.

"Adric, I meant, where are we, how did we get here, who else is here, what happened to the army of slavers? I'd rather like to know what happened between my getting shot and now, if you please."

Adric hesitated. "I'll take you to the others." She sighed. That was a start in the right direction, at least.

Adric was leading Romana through clusters of buildings like the one she was left sleeping in. They were semi-cylindrical in shape, and made with materials she recognized from the makeshift camps the Tharils usually built. But this was far beyond that; the buildings were larger, of a more solid structure, and much more plentiful. This was a city, a Tharil city. Her hearts finally lifted; they were safe, somehow.

Eventually, they came to a wide area she realized must be the city center, with Tharil adults and children wandering, clumped in socializing groups, and even a few merchant stands. But, most importantly, in the middle, leaned against a tree, was the old, familiar lion-man. She grinned, and ran to him as fast as her body would allow. "Biroc," she said, relief dripping from the word. He nodded in acknowledgement. "I am glad to see the both of us in one piece, but, how?"

He stood straight, and cleared his throat with a rumbling cough. "This, this settlement you see here, is the oldest Tharil establishment left. It is hidden by treacherous and thick jungle, I had heard of it, but…" Emotion crept into his voice on the last word, and he paused. When he resumed, it was back to his usual calm. "They have been here untouched for as long as our people have been enslaved. However, they do no- have not allowed anyone else into the city, to maintain that. Neither slavers nor enslaved can access it. But, your friends apparently, after coming here by mistake, resolving some tension, convinced them to aid their fellow Tharils, and somehow outed a treacherous member of the city council." He looked sideways at his companion. She nodded, confirming that yes, that happens much more often that one would think. He continued. "It is thanks to them that there are any of us left alive. Here, we Tharils are numerous, strong and organized after years of sanctuary. It will not be long until the slavers come here, too, but we are prepared."

Romana's face split into a grin. After waging a war with a ragtag band of malnourished, frightened Tharils who had for the most part only even known slavery, she had started to lose hope for their cause, but this was the reinforcements she could only have dreamed of. Yet her mind was still snagged on a concern. "Biroc, the Doctor…" she trailed off, not daring to presume one way or another.

"The Doctor is fine. He was struck by several bullets as well, and will require more sleep, but will recover as you did. Tharil medical technology has progressed her beyond even that of the slavers, being even able to replace organs, which is fortunate, for he had a tear in one of his hearts." Romana's hearts felt ready to burst with relief. "The Time Lord is brave. I saw him run into the fray to retrieve you. Your mate is well-chosen." He looked at her with a proud twinkle in his eye as Romana barely avoided tripping in astonishment.

"Yes, well." She coughed, and changed the subject. "How did the Tharils know how to treat us? They have never had contact with our kind and our cardiovascular system is highly complex," she noted.

"I am not a great scientist, but from what they told me, they have medical records of a species very similar to your people that they were able to treat you based off of. You may discuss the matter with them at your leisure. They also are overseeing the repair of K-9. He was damaged in the skirmish." She breathed a sigh a relief; she hadn't seen the little metal dog since before the attack, and feared the worst for him. But then, frowning, Romana considered Biroc's words further. For there to be another species in this universe similar enough to Time Lords to use as a medical reference was astronomically improbable. Yet, here she was, whole again by their technology. She would definitely need to look into these records of theirs…

Her stomach rumbled. "Where is the food kept? Adric only took me some fruit."

"Over there. Unless your young friend has taken the rest for himself."

After satiating herself (she had slept for over a day and rather needed food), she was led, per her request, to where the Doctor was. She entered the small house slowly, and rested her eyes on the bed. Discounting the brief glimpse she caught before losing consciousness, this was the first she'd seen of him in a long time. He looked about the same, puff of brown curls, and huge eyes barely contained behind pale eyelids. She sat by him, while Biroc left, quietly closing the door behind him. Leaning in, she could see a white mark nearly hidden under his collared shirt. Her hearts seized, knowing that there were several others like it, all left by bullets just as hers had been.

She stared at him. "I wish you hadn't come back," she muttered to his sleeping form. "You've helped me change so much, to be a person I could have never dreamed of on Gallifrey, and I do...enjoy your company…" she sighed. "But I've got to be my own person too. It's not fair, you've had centuries free from Gallifrey on your own to find yourself. But I, I go right from Gallifrey to you, and the Time Lords could ask for me back any day now. I'm ruined for that place, you have to realize that. And although I like the changes I've undergone, I don't know what I would be without you, and I was just starting to figure that out here."

"And, I know it's not rational, but I can't help being angry at you for letting me leave either. I decide to stay and help the Tharils, and you just grin and say 'goodbye' like you were announcing lunch. At times, I can't tell how much of your flippancy, irresponsibility and arrogance is an act and what is genuinely you being an ass. I can't tell if you really care." She glared at his closed eyes, then looked away, ashamed. Where had that come from?

All of those things she had thought before and after leaving the Doctor. Never all at once, and not always in depth, but they had all at least occurred to her. The concerns she had about him had gone unexplored as she focused on saving Tharils, but evidently they had not left her mind, instead brewing into resentment. Her hearts felt heavy with guilt at becoming so childishly bitter. But, she knew as she snuck a look back at the Doctor, she still loved him dearly. Even if he was an ass. She brushed a stray curl from his forehead, looking at the familiar face.

"Could you get that one in my mouth?"

"Certai-Doctor! You've been awake this entire time!" Romana reeled back, face alight with a mixture of shame, shock and pure outrage. The Doctor's laughter boomed, until interrupted by a cough. She glared.

"My chest is still tight from that business with the bullets. Rather rude of them," he said through his giant smile. She was standing still, faced away from him. The grin shrunk.

"Do you?" the smile was gone entirely, replaced by a look of worry.

"Do I what, Romana?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Do. You. Care?" There was a long pause, heavy with tension. Finally, she turned back to look at him. He was sitting up and staring blankly at the wall. "Doctor!" She knelt down, to look him on his eye-level.

"I just emptied out my all my thoughts and feelings for you. Do you really have nothing to say?" His mouth was tight as she waited for a response.

"To be fair, you didn't intend to."

She stormed out of the room.