Emerald Green
Chapter Twenty-Two
Glimmer
They went on a safari, and Molly petted all sorts of alien creatures. Her favorite had been one that looked like a cross between a cheetah and a baby elephant.
The next day was breakfast in London in 1882, lunch in Mexico City in 2082, dinner on a planet whose name she couldn't pronounce but for dessert had a fruit cobbler so sweet and rich she could only manage a few bites. Between meals they'd explored each place. No exciting adventures, but it was nice just to wander and see everything. Seeing the past come alive was just as exciting to her as alien planets, though the planet they'd gone to for dinner had offered rides on something that resembled camels, and they'd rode through a path that went by some cliffs and had amazing vistas. She made the Doctor take a hundred photos.
The next morning he'd woken her early, excited to go to another sight-seeing planet. They were tied to something that seemed akin to a ski lift that followed a track, only the track was some kind of magnetic field in the sky, so they seemed to float. Molly only had one minor panic attack, a wild success considering her fear of heights. She again stole the Doctor's phone to take photos of their surroundings, and a few more selfies with him. The lush purple rainforests and pink mountains had been something to behold. It took the whole day to complete the sightseeing circuit.
The day after that she declared another rest day. She went through a couple hours of ballet practice, then hunted him down in the larger library.
"Good morning," she greeted, then paused. "Or afternoon. Or…whatever."
"Hey," he greeted a little more sensibly. He was seated in an armchair, reading a book that, while in English, she couldn't quite translate from the science-y speak. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," she responded. Surprisingly good. She kept waiting for the nightmares, and though Dalek Sec and the space behind the Cyberman that took Maggie had appeared, they hadn't been as haunting or common as she'd thought they would be. "Keep busy last night?"
"Oh, busy enough," he said. "Popped by a religious ceremony on Millenia, planet a couple galaxies over from yours. Did some tinkering on the TARDIS. Read a book on different sorts of gravity on different planets throughout the universe. Working on this one, now," he said, waving the book at her as though she could comprehend the title.
Molly turned to one of the shelves and drifted a hand across the titles, many of them seeming to be etched in gold. This felt less like a library, and more like a rare book store. "Glad you weren't bored," she responded. She spotted a few titles that caught her eye. She pulled the first book – tome, really - of the series out, and held the title toward him. "Would this be safe to read? No dangerous secrets or anything?"
The Doctor stood and approached her, taking the book from her and looking down at it. "The Complete History of Gallifrey." He read the title out softly. He looked back up at her, his expression mildly surprised. "Why would you want to read this?"
She shrugged. "Always been curious about Gallifrey. I didn't have much access to the classic episodes that showed it a bit more. Is that okay?"
The Doctor glanced back down at the cover of the book, then nodded and held it out to her. "Yeah, of course it is. I'm used to getting a few questions, but not many people wanting to read a book this thick about it, not to mention the entire encyclopedic series. It even took me a few years before I got through it all."
"Well, I expect there won't be time for me to even finish the first book," replied Molly. "You know, before I get home."
"Oh. Right," said the Doctor, his voice a little softer again as he turned away to go back to his seat.
Molly opened the cover and flipped through the pages. "I might just skim through them all, to get as far as I can before it's time." She found a seat near the Doctor, folded her legs under her, and began to read the first few pages. It was mostly dry introduction to the material and the author, the kind she usually found in textbooks, so she skipped ahead to the first chapter.
That was how most of the day was spent. They sat and read together, occasionally sharing what they were reading about, though Molly mostly asked clarifying questions about her book, followed by many, many clarifying questions about his until they both gave up on her understanding.
It was another few days of sight-seeing – or weeks, she was already losing track – later when Molly went through her regular morning routine, and added reading a few pages to it, then she headed for the console room, where the Doctor was shining up the controls.
"Where to today?" she asked. It was almost becoming commonplace, going on these adventures and seeing and experiencing these incredible things. She never took a second of it for granted, but the idea that she could casually ask what planet or time they were seeing that day felt so unusual, yet it also almost felt like home.
Another thing she'd examine with a therapist, if she had one that understood traveling with an alien in his space-and-time ship.
"I was thinking Allista," he said, setting aside the rag. Today he wore a grey vest with his dark purple bowtie. "They collect stories, and exchange them as their main form of currency. You can't find a better fairytale than on Allista."
Molly smiled. "I love fairytales."
"Me, too," replied the Doctor, beginning to set the coordinates. "Lots of magic and hope and happy endings. In the best ones, at least."
"Very wholesome," Molly said, holding on to the railing as they took off. This part was definitely not feeling very commonplace. "They're sort of like Alice in Wonderland, like they take place in a different world, even if they technically take place on Earth."
"Exactly," the Doctor agreed as they landed. "We're bound to hear some good ones here. And there are little moons around the planet, where they keep even more stories. The main planet has all sorts, but each moon focuses on a different genre. They're even decorated to match the theme."
Molly grinned. "I love that. We should definitely visit a moon or two."
"Done!" replied the Doctor. He grabbed his coat off the railing and shrugged it on. "Shall we?"
Molly felt she practically skipped to the door, and pulled it open, and stepped outside before taking a look around. Outside was a city that seemed made of glass, though she couldn't see through the walls. The glass sparkled and reflected the buildings around them. It was filled with spires and domes, the glass bending and twisting in ways that reminded her of the architecture in very old cities she'd seen in pictures online, reaching towards a lavender-and-turquoise sky. The streets looked like the Yellow Brick Road from the Wizard of Oz, but with a sparkle to them that suggested gold but wasn't quite.
She stepped out, knowing her face was a painting of surprise and awe, but she let the Doctor have that moment of victory. She heard him step out and stand next to her, and gently nudged him with his elbow. "You didn't tell me it looked like heaven."
"Is this what you think heaven looks like?" replied the Doctor. "I've always been interested to hear what other cultures view as paradise."
"Close enough," she breathed. "I mean, if I believed in such a place."
The Doctor hooked an arm around hers. "Well, let's go have a look at heaven."
It took Molly only a few minutes to become very grateful that the sun on this planet shone gently; the glare of the light off the glass was harsh enough as it was. Still, everything was just as pretty up close. She could have sat for hours listening to the architects of the city explain how it had all been done - even though that wasn't usually her thing – but that wasn't something they offered. Instead, there were people standing on the corners of the golden streets holding large tomes and telling stories, like people back home had stood on corners and proclaimed the end of days. This was much more pleasant. They mostly dressed in long, dark red robes, which apparently denoted their status as public storytellers. People would stand and listen for a while before going about their day. When they stepped inside a café, instead of music there played a woman with a soothing voice telling a story that sounded like a Just So story from her childhood. The Doctor paid with a short story, a miniature recap of his first adventure with Rose, and then they sat and listened to the story playing on the speakers as they had their coffee, before moving on.
They decided to visit the Fairytale Moon, but when they went to the booth to get a ticket for the flight there, they found it closed. As they wandered, they found all the booths were closed. Finally, the Doctor stopped someone to ask about it.
"The flights?" the person – pale blue skin and drooping earlobes giving them away as a native - asked, shifting their purchases in an iridescent bag from one hand to another. "The flights have all been cancelled for a year now. Where've you been?"
"Ah…" began the Doctor. "We just arrived."
The person seemed confused. "How? The energy crystals are run out. No flights in or out."
"We mean, we just arrived to, um, this specific street," said Molly. She wasn't sure why she was trying to cover. Lying was not a gift she had. "So, we…weren't sure about, um…" This had been a horrible mistake.
"The energy crystals ran out a year ago?" the Doctor asked. She looked to him with gratitude for saving her, but he had what Craig would have called his 'noticing' face on. "For all the ships?"
The person nodded. "Yes. We expected another shipment from Llaythe, but apparently there's nothing left on the mountains, and they didn't have the equipment to go digging in the tunnels. They made it back, but we've been waiting for another way to get there with equipment to get into the tunnels and caves."
"For a year? You've all been trapped here for a year?"
"And everyone who was on a moon has been trapped there," they said. "Not many supplies out there. We've been so worried."
"But-"
"You can go to the City Hall to talk about it more. I don't really know anything else, sorry," said the person, and they turned and walked away.
The Doctor turned to Molly, and even if she hadn't studied his every expression, she would know what it was he wanted to do next. Which was fine by her – it was exactly what she wanted to do next, too.
She jogged forward a few steps to get in front of the person they'd been speaking to. "Which way to City Hall, again?"
They sat in a little waiting room, in chairs that were a little too hard, but on the coffee table and side tables were all sorts of books, so at least visitors didn't notice how hard the chairs were while they were reading. The Doctor was pacing, his face distant, so Molly busied herself with the books. She was surprised by the variety – children's, cozy mystery, horror, even erotica – and kept picking one up and flipping through them. She was so excited to see an Agatha Christie one that she didn't notice the secretary stand up from behind her too-tall desk.
"He's ready for you," the secretary said, gesturing to the tall green doors behind her. The Doctor headed for them and Molly dropped the book back onto the table and followed after him as quickly as she could.
"Welcome," a man said, standing and walking around his desk to shake the Doctor's hand, then Molly's. His beard almost reached his waist. "I'm the Mayor. My secretary said you thought you could help our energy crisis? We haven't been able to call off-planet since the crystals ran out. We couldn't get into the tunnels on the last visit."
Molly remembered the Doctor had said something about how here, the Mayor was the same as a King – this man was in charge of the planet and its moons, but he was elected in for ten years of service. He seemed tired to Molly, but she'd be tired if she ruled over a planet with some of its people trapped on different moons, too.
The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out the psychic paper, flashing it at the Mayor. "Yes! Hello. I'm the Doctor, this is Molly Quinn. We're energy crisis experts from the Halian Embassy." The Doctor put the paper back in his pocket and walked over to the desk, and poked through its contents while he spoke. "We have a ship that could get us into the underground tunnels on Llaythe, no problem. We can hop over, grab some crystals, and get you enough to charge up a ship and equipment for a proper dig."
The Mayor turned towards the Doctor, and though she couldn't see it, she could feel his expression of surprise and disbelief. "The ground on Llaythe has become hard as the crystals themselves. You believe you can make it underground with just your ship?"
"She's special," Molly replied. "She can get us down there. But…" she walked around the Mayor to face the Doctor. "How do we dig up the crystals? I'm not exactly an experienced miner." She didn't have enough information to be making many comments, but she was sure the Doctor at least had an idea what he was doing.
"Most of them aren't part of the rock," the Mayor explained. "They were dug up by the Lutumedes and brought down into their caves."
"Lutumedes?"
"Insects," said the Mayor. "Ancient insects on that planet with large tunnels that cover almost the entire planet. They were attracted to anything that shines. They've been extinct a few hundred years now."
Molly didn't like the thought of going into the tunnels of even long-dead bugs, but the Doctor didn't seem to notice. He turned away from the desk and approached the Mayor. "If I'm right, these crystals are related to the Energy Gems of SGH-I. Even just one could power lights in this city for a year."
"Exactly," the Mayor replied. "Llaythe has helped power our planet for centuries. The air aboveground is too thin to support us, but the energy from their crystals has helped power our spacecrafts. We know there's plenty underground, but I didn't think the mountain had run so low."
"Not a problem," replied the Doctor with a smile, already headed for the door. "We'll just pop over, grab a few crystals, then come back over and you should be able to get your real dig team up there pronto." He paused by Molly's ear. "And we'll just hop ahead a few years and try again."
"Seems straightforward," said Molly, though she hoped he didn't see how nervous she was. The fact the bugs were dead aside, she also was terrified of being underground. Besides, these things never seemed to be that simple. Still, "Let's do it!" An adventure was an adventure, and she wasn't going to say no to helping get those poor people stranded on the moons home.
"We're absolutely, completely certain the bugs are dead."
"Yes."
"We're absolutely, completely certain the tunnels won't collapse."
"Yes."
"We're really, really, really, really-"
"Molly."
"Sorry," she said, as they stood at the door of the TARDIS. "Have I mentioned I'm scared of being underground?"
The Doctor was holding the handle to lead them out of the TARDIS, but paused as they had this conversation. Again. "Six or seven times since we left City Hall."
"It has not been six or seven times."
"Okay, fine, three or four," replied the Doctor. "The tunnels won't collapse. I promise."
"And the bugs are dead?"
"The bugs are dead," he replied, and then threw the door open. "Only one way to get over this fear."
"…stay inside?"
The Doctor reached out, and gently shoved her out. She wanted to object, but really, it was the only way she was going to leave the TARDIS. "Fair," she said, as he stepped out and closed the door behind them.
"Torch," he said, offering her a flashlight. She took it and switched it on with relief. The dark was one thing she hadn't been afraid of before, at least not always, but since the dark Dalek ship, it made her feel a little nervous.
Despite her fear, she had to admit that every time she stepped on a new planet, a thrill went through her. She'd been excited enough to go to England; this was a whole new world not very many humans would ever see, that none from her place and time and universe would ever see. None but her. And it was going to be wholly new, more so than England had been to her. She'd felt that thrill when they entered the city, she'd felt it on Earth 2.0. It was always exciting, as was the idea of an adventure.
But really, there was nothing terribly thrilling here, other than the fact that it was another planet. She couldn't actually see the surface, of course, where things actually were. She couldn't see the sky. It was all just brown, round tunnels, large enough for six people to walk side by side. The ceiling was tall enough to make her feel assured they wouldn't run out of air, and the Mayor had mentioned openings here and there that let air in, but were too small and the ground too hard for people to slip inside. The dirt had a faint, silvery sparkle to it as the lights moved across it.
"Traces of the crystals," the Doctor explained. "Some of them must have broken down into almost sand over millions of years."
Molly nodded. "Okay. Time to start wandering?"
"Time to start wandering."
They began down the tunnel, which was longer than she thought it would be with no offshoots. They been walking in silence for three minutes when the Doctor couldn't seem to take it anymore.
"So! What should we chat about while we look for the crystals?"
Molly brainstormed for a moment. "I don't know. Not me. We talk about me too much."
He turned a bit to shine the light in her face. "What do you mean? How else are we supposed to get to know each other better?"
Molly reached out and pushed the light down and out of her eyes. "We could talk about you for a change of pace."
"What about me?" the Doctor wondered, shining the light ahead of them again. "You seem to already know everything."
Molly thought about that. "I mean, I know a lot of the big things, the bigger adventures and meeting the companions and such. There's obviously more to you."
"Like…? What do you want to know? I'm an open book." the Doctor prompted her. "Well…half open. A smidge open. A bit."
Well, of course, the moment she was asked she couldn't remember anything she'd ever wanted to ask. "I don't know. What's your favorite movie?"
"My favorite movie?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "That's what you want to know?"
"I'm just getting warmed up before we get to the hard hitters. I was an investigative journalist, you know. I can come up with some good questions." Granted, it had been a while since she'd conducted an interview, and none were coming to her now, but she'd figure it out eventually.
They were quiet again as they moved forward a few steps. The Doctor moved the light of his flashlight along the walls as he looked for a turning. "Abyss of Venus. It doesn't come out for another few decades for you. I don't watch a lot of scifi – as it's my life – but I liked that one. The aliens in it were so similar to Ice Warriors, I wondered if it wasn't written by someone who'd met them. It was really more part horror, part comedy."
"You'll have to show it to me," Molly said, and the Doctor promised to do so. She turned towards him a moment, considering his face. Well, there was nowhere to run, no TARDIS controls to stare at and use to pretend he wasn't quite paying attention. She'd said the questions would get harder. "How do you feel, now?"
"A bit on edge, to be honest. D'you think I landed in a completely closed off tunnel?"
"Couldn't have. The tunnels were a bug nest, they have to get in and out somewhere. But that's not what I mean," she said. "I mean, after everything that happened. Those hundred years alone. You seem to be doing better, but you usually do when someone's traveling with you. When I leave, do you think you'll go back to who you were then?"
"This again?" he asked. She didn't need to shine the light directly at him to see his expression out of the corner of her eye. It was a scowl. Not quite yet a serious one, but she knew how quickly he could change. It didn't matter. They had to discuss it. She had to get him thinking about the future, as much as she knew he hated it. "I told you, I can't exactly put an advertisement in the paper. 'Wanted: One Companion to Travel Space and Time. Ability to show compassion to people who try to kill you and be impressed by me considered a plus'."
"I know that," she replied. "You didn't answer my question." She paused, and she only saw his scowl deepen. They would cross to the territory of a truly irritated Doctor soon. It didn't matter. She pressed on. "Come on. Consider me a therapist. I've been to enough therapy that I can fake it."
"Are you going to ask me 'and how does that make you feel' every few minutes?"
"Only if you ask nicely," she teased, laughing a little to try to keep the serious conversation from becoming too heavy. "And maybe get you thinking about a plan. Coping mechanisms. Something."
"Why?" he asked, pausing now to turn towards her. His expression seemed almost suspicious, his shoulders tense. "Why are you so concerned about what happens after you leave?"
She stopped and turned towards him, aiming her light at his chest so she wouldn't blind him. She tried, desperately, to throw a filter on before the words came spilling out, but she failed. "Because I do know you well. Because I know how much guilt you carry with you when you go dark. Maybe not then, maybe not right away, but eventually. Because I know that guilt feeds into your self-hatred. Because I know that self-hatred is why you didn't want me trying to save you anymore after the Mechanas, at least partly. It's why you feel guilty whenever anyone gets hurt to save you, because despite everything, all the incredible goodness you put into the world, you don't think you're worthy of that, or at least because you place everyone else's lives ahead of yours. Because I know you feel like every time they're hurt, it's your personal failure, which brings you back around to the guilt and self-hatred cycle. Because I know that vicious cycle very well and very personally, guilt to self-hatred to guilt to self-hatred. Because I know it doesn't just…disappear. Because I know what that does to a soul, if you believe in that kind of thing. I know how it wears you down to nothing. Because I know, if you go dark again, it's going to haunt you just like this time does. And I know, if there's any way to avoid that, we need to start planning for it now. I know how important coping mechanisms are, and how important managing guilt is." She finally was able to stop herself from continuing this awful call-out that she hadn't intended to do, not now, not like this. She took a slow breath. "Why do I care what happens to you after I leave? Because we're friends, and I care about you. Because I want you to be happy, and you're happiest when you're with people. That's why."
She took a deep breath as she absorbed how his face had changed while she'd talked, from his scowl to true anger, then to something blank, and then to a curiosity she hoped to avoid, but now it had settled into some mix of hurt and sad. She cursed her mouth for running off without her brain.
She watched his mouth adjust a few times before he said, quietly, "Hard-hitters, huh?"
"Yeah, I kind of wish I hadn't said all that. Sorry," she breathed. "This was maybe not the best time or place for this conversation."
"You think so?" His voice was tight, tighter than she'd heard it before, except for when he'd told her the story of the Ood and Sontarans.
She winced. "I never said I was a good therapist."
He began to shake his head. "I don't want to fight with you now. We should keep moving." He turned to walk, but she grabbed his sleeve.
"Then don't fight with me," she said. "I didn't mean to go off like that, I promise. But you implied I shouldn't care about you enough to care what happens to you when I go home, and I do, and I went off. That's not an excuse to go off, it's just the reason. But you know everything I said was true."
"Not everything," replied the Doctor, but he didn't continue to specify what she'd said wasn't true.
She let go of his sleeve, and turned to continue down the tunnel. After a moment, she hooked her free arm in his, and was grateful when he didn't try to pull away. "I just care about you, you know? Not just because of the show. As a real person. And I want you to be safe and happy. And I know you aren't always, so don't try that line with me."
He made a sound that was like a cross between a chuckle and a snort, but she felt him squeeze her arm a little tighter for a moment. "I care about you, too, Molly. And I don't mean to imply you don't care about me. I know that you do."
She smiled and leaned her head against his arm for a moment in lieu of a thank you. "And how does that make you feel?" She joked, and was rewarded with a chuckle. They continued down the long, straight tunnel for a while when she said, "So, bad timing, I know. But we need to talk about this. We can hit pause, though."
He seemed to be thinking about it, so she made the responsible decision for once and decided to stay quiet while he thought. Their journey through the tunnel continued on in silence.
"I don't know," he said, finally. "I don't know how to hold myself back, it's true. I do need someone, I know that. But it isn't easy, finding people. I just sort of…come across them. And if I don't, I don't. What else am I supposed to do?"
She considered for a moment. "After what happened…when I was thirteen…I sort of spun out, for a while. Made bad choices on purpose. Hurt people, occasionally, though not usually on purpose. I saw a lot of therapists. One gave me a good piece of advice that helped me start figuring out how to end the self-destruction: W. W. J. D. – What Would Jesus Do? Now, I'm not Christian or anything, but she suggested putting a different name in there. The name of someone I admired." And so, the recitation of names began, but she couldn't say that. "And pause to think about it before making any choices. You could pick, you know, yourself. The person you want to be. The person you pictured when you made your promises and chose the name the Doctor. That sounds like someone who would make decent decisions."
"Hmm," replied the Doctor. She'd hoped for more detail, but it didn't seem like he was going to add any commentary, until a few seconds later, "How about W. W. M. Q. D.?"
Molly immediately saw what he was saying. "No."
"'What Would Molly Quinn Do'?"
"Make the absolute worst decision. I'm a terrible idea. Just in general." She laughed lightly at the concept of someone trying to use her as a role model. "But you're not. 'Never cruel or cowardly. Never give up. Never give in'. That's someone to want to be like."
"I made those promises a long, long time ago. So much longer than I thought possible," he replied. Molly heard in his voice just how ancient he was now, remembered the extra thousand years on Christmas, the extra hundred without Clara. "Sometimes I think I've lived too long, maybe even too long to remember what those words mean." He hesitated. "They're still what I want. Who I am. But every hundred years, it feels more like a distant goal I want to achieve than who I really am. Isn't a person most who they are when they're alone?" She heard something like fear in that question.
Molly considered his question for a moment before answering. "I don't know. But I don't think so. I think a person is more who they are when they're around people, how they treat people, how they speak to them, the connections they form, more so than they are when they're alone." She stopped walking again for a moment, and the Doctor turned around when he realized she'd stopped. "A lot of that, honestly, sounds like your self-hatred speaking. It's hard to remember who you wanted to be sometimes, but most of all when you've lost sight of who you are to other people."
He took a step closer. "And who am I, to other people?" His voice was soft, genuinely questioning who she thought he was.
She took a breath. "I know a TV show isn't the real you. But I've been with you a while now, and mostly it is very much you. Not all of you, but you, in the things you do, the things you say. And that show – your life – is so important to so many people in my universe, that I'm sure it's saved lives. It saved mine. It was a life raft for me when I most needed one. And I'm not alone in that." She paused, for dramatic effect, she had to admit. "You are saving lives in a universe you don't even exist in. So how many more have you saved here, where you really are? Is it even possible to count them all? And how many lives are better because of you?" She took a small step closer to him. "You want to know who you are to other people? You're not just one thing. A hero, sure. A friend, absolutely. Most of all, a Doctor, saving and healing people and worlds, even other universes. You're not perfect. No one is. You make mistakes, you let your anger get the best of you, and you exist on a larger scale than anyone, so those mistakes can be big. But the Doctor is who you are. Even on the days you don't feel like it."
She wished now that they were on the TARDIS. She wished he had the option of staring down at the controls or giving her some reason to leave the room for a moment. Because watching this sort of thing on television was so very different than in reality. At home, on TV, the sparkle of the light on the track of a tear running down his cheek only would have made her emotional, to feel for him, to maybe cry a little, too. But now she was physically there and it had been something she'd said and she didn't know if it was a hurt tear or happy tear or sad tear. She'd always been awkward around crying people, she never knew what to do or say, and now there was a tear running down her comfort character's face and it was because of her and it was awful and awkward. If this was on a screen, she would have been able to judge his reaction better, if he was touched or crushed somehow. In person, her ability to read people was dampened by her mind screaming that she had no idea what to do or say to make it stop.
Thankfully, this was the Doctor. He turned away, and she saw a hand rise to his face quickly and just as quickly move back down, and then there he was, pretending he saw something very interesting on his flashlight. But still, Molly didn't move. She barely breathed. She waited to see if her own outpouring of emotion was a horrible mistake – even though she wasn't sure she would take a word of it back.
She heard him clear his throat, and then he turned back towards her, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I thought you said I was the one who gave big speeches."
She rolled her eyes and started walking again. "Shut up." But she was grateful he'd been the one to remove the tension of the moment. He followed beside her.
"Molly."
"Hmm?"
"…Thanks."
She gave a little shrug of a shoulder. "It's just the truth."
"Really, though," he insisted, this time reaching out to stop her. "Thank you. I don't…" He paused, holding his hands out and moving them forward as though he could hand her whatever words it was he was trying to find. "Ah…" He paused again, lowering his hands and aiming the flashlight downward. "Hmm. I don't really know how to express this."
Molly smiled a little to hide her confusion. "You already said thanks, a couple times. Let's just…" She tried to take a step forward, but he took a step to the side to keep her from being able to turn to walk forward.
"No, no," said the Doctor, and she could see him rubbing his fingers against his thumb. "I mean, Molly, I mean that…" He sighed, then tried again. "Your show felt like that to me, sometimes. Like a life raft." She snorted and tried to turn away again, feeling that discomfort she always experienced when he implied he'd been a fan of hers. But he stepped in the way again, blocking her from walking away from this. "No, Molly, listen. Please." She forced back a sigh but couldn't find a way to remove the look of irritated resignation when she looked at him. Immediately, she wished she hadn't looked at him at all. His eyes were doing that gentle, earnest thing they did when he was trying to make her feel better about herself. That suggested she might, in any way, be vulnerable – and she couldn't stand anyone seeing that vulnerability outside a stage. "Your face was a constant companion for me when I was alone, or when everyone else was asleep, and I wanted a moment of quiet to recover before going off on the next adventure. Especially these last hundred years or so. I mean…it had been a thousand years, I had a lot of rewatching to catch up on," She was grateful for the little levity in his voice. "It was comforting to me to return to the show and see you again, even in the darker moments. Even in the times when I didn't feel like a 'savior of worlds' at all. And now you've told me that the character that I turned to when I needed to feel less alone feels the same way about me, and that I saved her life, just by…" He seemed lost for the right word again, gesturing as though searching for it. "…ah, existing? Living my life, as myself?" He paused, and the tears in his eyes and small smile on his lips made her stomach squirm. "What better moral compass could I have, then to stop and think what my favorite character would think of me, if I did this? If I was being the person Molly Quinn said helped her in her darkest times? Forget W. W. M. Q. D. – what would Molly Quinn think, if she could see me doing this, when I'm alone with no one to hold me back? Would I still be someone she turned to for comfort?" He paused. "What reminder of my promises could work better than that?"
Molly tried to pretend she didn't have tears in her eyes, too, but what was the point? They both knew she was a crybaby. She lifted her hand carrying the flashlight and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, closed her eyes, took a breath, and shook her head, as though she could shake off that moment and those words.
She turned her face back towards him, and cleared her throat. "Alfie was right. You are silly."
He seemed a little uncomfortable. "Molly, I'm actually trying to be serious for once, here."
"Me, too," she said. "You are absolutely absurd. Absurd. The idea that I could have that kind of influence on you, is – is – frankly, it's-"
"Absurd?"
"Yes. Absurd," she replied, but she was shaking her head. "I'm not…I'm just not that kind of person. And even if I was – I – it's just…" she sighed, and looked down the tunnel, watching the dirt sparkle. "I can't imagine that it's possible I'd be your favorite character, ever, or that you'd have felt anything about me as a character as I did you."
"Molly, if you could just-"
"But," she interrupted him. She looked back towards him. "I'm trying. It's just…too weird, thinking that you were your favorite character's favorite character."
"Oh, you're telling me?" the Doctor asked, a little incredulously.
She laughed. "Okay. Okay. I guess I'm not the only one in this tunnel who experiences that feeling. I…will go as far as to admit that."
"Good," replied the Doctor. He finally let her begin walking back down the tunnel, and followed a half-step behind her. "Now, if I could get you to admit you're totally cool enough to be my favorite character, almost even cooler than me…."
She gently elbowed him. "Dream on, space boy. No one's cooler than me." He gently nudged her back. "I am, however, willing to concede that, if What Would the Doctor Do makes sense to me, maybe, maybe, possibly…What Would Molly Quinn Think might work for you."
"Ah! See?"
"…but you still need another companion after me."
"Yes, mum," she heard him grumble. "We'll talk about it – oh!" She saw the light on his side of the wall bend oddly, and realized it was an opening. "Good. It's not a dead end."
"I told you it couldn't be," she said, speeding up so she could shine a light down the tunnel, hoping it would be as easy as turning this one corner and being met by the glimmering of crystals.
Something was glimmering at the end of that tunnel, but it wasn't crystals.
"Doctor," she said, her voice a sign of warning.
She could feel the Doctor shift from comforting friend to detective and protector in a breath, and he was suddenly in front of her, shining his own light down at the glimmering, leaking golden light at the end of the tunnel.
"No…" she heard him whisper. He took a hesitant step forward. "Not again."
They were both staring down the long tunnel at the unmistakable crack in the universe.
A thought came into Molly's head. "Is it me? Is it following me?"
"Why would it be following you?"
"I came from another universe. Maybe somehow, I made the fissure break again?"
She was relieved when she saw the Doctor shaking his head. "No, no…that's not…it wouldn't work like that." But something in his voice made her wonder if he was lying. "I need a closer look. But not too close – remember not to get too close." She nodded her agreement, and then took the hand he reached behind him. "Come along, then."
He hesitated a moment, but then quickly was leading her down the tunnel, the crack in the universe getting closer and closer, and though it was nearer her middle it felt as though it was looming over them, reaching out to them, preparing to greet them with as much urgency as they were coming to greet it with, opening maybe another fraction of an inch, maybe becoming bigger, maybe –
And in the next step, the ground fell away, and the Doctor slipped downward, and she was being dragged down with him.