Emerald Green
Chapter Twenty-One
The Un-Farewell Tour, Part Two
"Molly," the Doctor said from the other side of the center console.
"Doctor."
"Molly."
"Doctor."
"Molly."
"Doctor."
He leaned around to look at her with mild irritation. "Why do you keep saying 'Doctor'?"
"Because you keep saying 'Molly'."
She saw the Doctor frown for a moment. "Right." He paused and cleared his throat. "Molly, would you mind swiping your fingers down the 'pearl pad' in a 'Z' shape? It'll be easier to land if I'm holding this switch down over here on this side."
Molly walked over to the pad, and double-checked to make sure she remembered which way a Z went, and then did as he asked. "Where are we going? We never discussed it over brunch."
"You were too busy talking about how grey everything was."
"Well, it was."
"It was a moon," the Doctor reminded her.
"I didn't say it wasn't cool. I just said it was grey."
"We're going to Hatch," he said, finally answering her question. "They have a kind of safari there where you can see the wild animals on the planet, but they love being pet."
Molly smiled, a little wickedly. "Sounds amazing. Put a pin in it."
"A pin? Why?"
She leaned around to look at him. "We're not finished with the Un-Farewell Tour, are we?"
The Doctor scowled. "Well – I – I let Craig know, didn't I?"
"There must be someone else," she said, walking around the console to be able to actually face him.
He waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, no one else."
She felt her eyebrows raise just a little, almost involuntarily. "You forget that I watched the show," she said. "That includes the spinoffs."
The Doctor turned to her with surprise. "Spinoffs? You didn't mention those before. What spinoffs? Tell me about them."
She shook her head. "Nope, no changing the subject. I know about the last time you saw Sarah Jane. You didn't get much time together. And what about Clara?"
"What about Clara?"
"Think about the last time you saw her," said Molly as she walked around the console to stand closer to him. "If Kate Stewart was to call you today and tell you Clara had died, would you be okay with how you left things? Would you be okay with that being the last time you saw her?"
The Doctor, predictably, looked away to the controls on the console. She could see the tension in his eyes anyway. She knew that, maybe, again, she might be crossing a line – but while she was here, she was going to do her best to set him up to not go dark again when she left. Relieving any guilt at the way he left things with people who were important to him would help.
"I'm never okay with the last time," he said finally, his voice soft. "It's never…right. And it can't be."
Molly leaned back against the console to face him the best she could, and crossed her arms across her chest. "You're right. The last time we see someone is never exactly what we wish it could have been. There's always something we wish we'd said, something we wish we'd done, something we wish we'd done differently…" It took a breath to keep her mind from wandering back to her own flawed goodbyes. "But you, uniquely, have a chance to make it better. You can have what most people don't – something more than the average day and a casual 'see you later' that never comes. I'm not saying you need to make a whole thing of it, but at the very least you can keep them from wondering if you didn't come back because you chose not to, or because you died. Or at the very, very least, leave things off a little better than you did originally."
Though he frowned, she could see the debate in his head. She thought he was looking through all his lasts with all the people he'd traveled with. All the ones he could have done better. "I can't possibly go back and redo my last meeting with every single person I've ever met."
"No, but there are people you've gone back to relatively recently. You can go to them. You can go spend some real time with Sarah Jane before you get the call about her. You can go spend some time with Clara before you get the call about her."
His jaw began to shift, and she took it as a good sign. If he was debating, he was listening. He was considering. Maybe she could get a better goodbye for Sarah Jane and Clara. Maybe she could get a better goodbye for the Doctor.
Maybe part of her was hoping to get an example of the kinds of things she should say when it was her turn to say goodbye to the Doctor.
"Okay," the Doctor breathed. "One more Christmas with Clara, why not? And then maybe we'll swing by Sarah Jane's. I'd like to check in on K9, make sure he doesn't need any repairs."
Molly grinned. "Great! Let's get going."
While the Doctor was already dressed appropriately for Christmas dinner, Molly ran and changed into an emerald green dress. Nothing too dressed up, nothing too casual. She was unfamiliar with Christmas in reality, but cheesy Christmas movies had taught her that some families did PJs, and some wore their best clothes, so this was a good compromise.
When she'd gotten back to the control room, the Doctor was just pulling the lever to send them hurtling through space and time to Clara's, and Molly gripped the railing tight. She breathed a sigh of relief when they landed. "Are you ready?"
"If you're going to stop bullying me into visiting people I've said goodbye to," he grumbled, but there was an air of excitement around him.
"We already discussed this. The problem is you didn't say goodbye, and also, I'm not a bully," she said smiling. "Let's go have Christmas. You're sure she'll be okay with me tagging along?"
"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "She's never been too particular. Wasn't even upset when I showed up twice one Christmas – she'd saved a couple extra crackers in case that happened."
"As long as you're sure," said Molly, though she was tempted to point out that he hadn't actually addressed her concern about an extra person who wasn't him.
"I'm sure!" The Doctor went to the TARDIS doors and stepped out, and Molly followed just behind him.
She immediately wished she'd thrown on a coat. The snow covered the ground everywhere, pure white and sparkling in lamplight. Thick flakes were falling from the sky, and looking down at her bodice, Molly could make out the shape of each snowflake. It was lovely – and freezing.
The house to her left was a little more than modestly sized. Two stories, brown brick, lots of windows. On an upstairs balcony a telescope was left pointed towards where the stars would have been, if not for the cloud cover. The house was covered in little white lights, with a few lit snowflake shapes to fit in with the snowy landscape. It was more isolated than Molly had pictured; she could see the lights of the next house, but not make out its exact shape.
Clara had done well. Or her husband had, since she was making a teacher's salary. Still, doing what she loved was 'doing well'. The mostly-dirt road around the house suggested a small town, and she wondered how long the commute was for Clara.
The Doctor also glanced around, and rubbed his hands together. "Brr! Sooner we get inside the better," he said as he headed towards a white front door with a green wreath hung on it. Molly followed, a little more hesitant now as she was preparing to meet yet another of her favorite characters from her favorite show. She might never recover if Clara didn't like her.
They stepped up on the porch and now it was the Doctor's turn to hesitate a moment, before he knocked. It wasn't long until Molly heard the scrape of a chain lock being undone, and the door opened.
"Doctor!" Clara exclaimed, her brown eyes wide. She was a little older now, maybe early forties, little lines about her eyes and the corners of her mouth, but she still had the dimple when she smiled. "It's been ages. What's wrong with you? Here, get inside, you and your friend."
She stepped aside to let the Doctor and Molly in. The inside was decorated similarly to the outside – twinkling white lights, lush green garland wrapped around the handrail for the stairs, paper cut-out snowflakes taped over a couple archways.
"Happy Christmas!" the Doctor greeted Clara warmly when she shut the door and turned back. His hesitance was completely gone when he pulled her into a hug. "I am in time for Christmas, yes?"
"Right in time," said Clara, hugging him back. "I mean, you're three years late for the next Christmas you were supposed to visit, but right in time for this one, yes." She turned to Molly. "Hi, sorry. I'm Clara."
Molly did her best to wipe her too-wide-for-a-stranger grin off her face. "Hi. Hi, Clara. I love – I mean, it's lovely meeting you. I'm Molly."
"Lovely to meet you, too, Molly. Come sit in the sitting room? Dinner should be ready any minute." Clara gestured to one of the archways, and Molly glanced at Clara before heading in. She was wearing a red dress at about the same level of casual as Molly's, though hers had a bit of a sparkle of gold that dressed it up some.
The living room was another well-decorated room, with a tree like the ones Molly had seen in movies, with silver tinsel and a popcorn-and-cranberry garland, and big sparkly ornaments in various colors. There were still gifts under the tree in red and green paper.
The Doctor went straight to the tree to pick up one of the boxes and shake it by his ear. "You still haven't opened presents?" He set the gift down and glanced around the living room. "Where are the kids?"
"They got snowed in with Thomas," she said, moving a cozy white blanket from a chair by the fireplace, the flames dancing merrily to a record that was playing some old Christmas song Molly had once sung in choir at school. She arranged the blanket over her lap when she settled into the chair. "They went to visit his parents in Norway a couple days ago. No flights out. Just me this Christmas."
Molly shot a look at the Doctor. "Good thing we came to visit, then, huh?"
The Doctor turned to fluff a cranberry-and-pinecone-themed pillow on the white couch across from Clara, hiding his face from both her and Molly a moment before taking a seat with a smile. "Perfect timing, I'd say! No one should be alone on Christmas."
Molly went to take a seat by the Doctor as Clara said, "What took you so long, Doctor? Why are you so late? How long's it been? Last time you only waited five minutes in between, on your side. You've made a new friend now."
"Oh – ah…" the Doctor glanced at Molly, almost helplessly. He didn't want to disclose how long it had been. Of course, Clara more than most would know what it meant that he'd been away so long. That he hadn't planned on coming back.
"That long, huh?" asked Clara a bit dryly.
"Well…maybe…" he cleared his throat. Molly half-expected him to lie. That was Rule One, after all. But she also felt that Clara would be one person he wouldn't want to have to lie to again, not after what had happened in Christmas.
"Go on, Doctor. Can't be that bad. You haven't aged a day in this regeneration."
"It's been…" He sighed, and finally said it: "A hundred years. Bit less, maybe."
Clara stared for what felt like a very long moment as the sound of the crackling fire and the record player's scratchy rendition of Auld Lang Syne echoed in the festive room.
When the long moment came to a close, she smiled, though it was small and sad. "You were done, then. Makes sense. You never liked goodbyes, not a one of you."
"Clara, I…" but the Doctor couldn't seem to find any more words.
Clara turned to look at Molly. "You convinced him to come back, didn't you?"
Molly wasn't sure if Clara was angry, and felt her heartbeat quicken at the terrifying thought. "Yeah. I did. He'd…um, mentioned you." It was true, so she didn't have to worry about lying to Clara, either. "Said it'd been a while. I thought it was best if he went back and said hi to some people. Let them know he wasn't dead."
"Took some convincing, did it?"
"A bit."
Clara turned her gaze to the Doctor, an impatience in her eyes as she stood. "Doctor."
"I'm sorry, Clara, I am," the Doctor said, his voice the sound of regret. "I just thought…maybe it was time. For you to move on."
"I think I'll decide that for myself, thank you very much," she replied. "You can decide when you're ready. I'll decide when I am." She paused. "When did you decide you weren't ready? Because if you were completely done, you wouldn't be here."
"…about when Molly insisted," the Doctor confessed.
Clara gave an exasperated sigh, and reached down to pull the Doctor to his feet. But her voice was gentle when she laughed. "Oh, you silly old man." She smiled up at him. "You don't ever hesitate to come see me. You're a more important part of Christmas than a tree, or presents."
"Not more than presents," the Doctor quickly disagreed, a longing eye on the gifts behind her.
"You're my present every year," insisted Clara, straightening his bowtie that had gone crooked when they'd hugged. "Every year, I get to see my Doctor. Don't go taking that away from me again, you hear me?"
The Doctor returned her small, genuine smile. "Yes, ma'am."
"We've missed too many Christmases already."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Call me 'ma'am' again, and I'm taking away one of your presents."
The Doctor's eyes lit up. "I have a gift?"
Clara laughed. "Of course you have a gift. You get one every year, and I bought and wrapped one every year, just in case. You've got three of them under the tree. Go on and find them."
The Doctor happily went around Clara to search through the pile of presents for his, and Clara moved to sit on the couch beside Molly. "I'm sorry there's nothing for you. I'd offer you one of the Doctor's presents, but they're all, well…very specifically for him."
Molly shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've never really done Christmas before. And I didn't bring you anything, either."
"You brought me the Doctor," replied Clara, smiling over as the Doctor was setting his own gifts in another pile, pausing to shake each of them. "I wouldn't call that nothing."
Molly felt a wave of warmth. Maybe this was the real reason she was here. To help the Doctor reconnect. To give him people to turn to when he was traveling alone again. Still, "He wouldn't have come if he didn't want to."
"True." Clara turned from watching the Doctor finish finding his gifts to glance at Molly. "How did you two meet? I'd tell you our story, but it's…a bit complicated."
"The Doctor…mentioned some things." Sticking to the bare minimum of truth. "And we sort of…bumped into each other. I wound up sort of…a stowaway on the TARDIS." She turned to Clara with an apologetic smile. "I guess ours is a bit complicated, too."
Together they watched the Doctor enthusiastically open his gifts, each a different hand-stitched bow tie. He was as excited for the last as he was the first, and immediately switched to a pale purple one with snowflakes stitched in white.
"I'll just go check on dinner, make sure the turkey's ready," said Clara when he was finished.
"I'll help," the Doctor immediately volunteered. Molly opted to stay behind in the living room to give them some time alone together.
She stood and looked around. It was well-decorated, even without the Christmas décor. White chairs and couches that were somehow pristine despite the children. They'd all likely grown up a lot since the Doctor had last seen them. On the mantle were photos of each of them individually – an older girl about sixteen with freckles, a boy around thirteen grinning on a sled, and a girl maybe ten with braided pigtails. At the end was a photo of Clara in a tea-length wedding dress and birdcage veil, almost nose-to-nose with a man with long blond hair wearing a tux, surrounded by rose bushes. Their wedding must have been beautiful. She wondered if Clara had tried to send the Doctor an invitation.
Molly wandered back into the hall to look at some of the photos on the wall. She was thrilled to see the oldest in a tutu that suggested Snow in the Nutcracker. Another showed the boy holding up a gold medal for something. Another was the littlest holding what looked like a handmade comic book she'd drawn. Another showed the whole family sitting on a bench in the park, Clara and her husband almost falling off the ends.
As Molly examined the happy family photo with a longing that almost made her sick, she heard a sudden shout behind her, and span around to see Clara breathing deep with a hand on her chest. "Sorry!" she apologized. "I didn't see you there, I thought you were still in the sitting room."
Molly smiled. "It's okay."
"What is it?!" came the Doctor's voice as he quickly approached from the other room. "Dalek? Cyberman? Christmas-themed Weeping Angel?" He arrived in the room, holding a meat fork as though he were holding a trident. He glanced around the room. It was cute, the way he rushed to defend Clara, even if there was nothing to protect her from. "Or perhaps a Molly?"
"It was a Molly," said Clara with a laugh, reaching over to disarm the Doctor. "I just came to let her know dinner's ready."
"Oh." The Doctor sounded almost disappointed at the lack of adventure. "Well. Alright then. Dinnertime."
They all sat around the table, and Molly was excited to see Christmas crackers on the plates. Every BBC show that they appeared in made her wish she had easy access to them, though they didn't seem as much fun on your own. They all crossed their arms to hold the ends of each other's, and pulled. The 'pop!' made Molly jump and they all laughed. They put on their paper crowns and read the jokes, then settled down for turkey, and stuffing, and roasted potatoes, and Brussels sprouts with walnuts, and pigs in blankets, and red currant jelly, and bread sauce with nutmeg and clove. She ate until she couldn't anymore while the Doctor and Clara caught up and told funny stories of their adventures together – most of which hadn't even been in an episode, so Molly adored it – but she still managed to find room for some sticky toffee pudding, despite having brunch only maybe an hour before. It was everything her BBC-loving heart could have wanted.
They went back and sat by the fire for a while as the stories continued. It must have been late in the night when things wound down, and it was feeling more and more like it was time for them to go.
"Give my love to the kids," said the Doctor. "Thomas, too. Tell him I intend to keep my promise about the mistletoe."
Clara laughed. "I will. You're coming back next Christmas, yes? Understand that it's not a request."
"Yes, ma'am."
Clara reached up and pulled the snowflake tie loose, and pulled it off him. "I did warn you. You can come back for it next Christmas." The Doctor pouted, but didn't argue as Clara turned to Molly. "You keep him in line, alright?"
"No worries on that front," said Molly, feeling bold enough to give Clara a hug. It was so amazing to hug a favorite character, it still didn't feel quite real.
"Good," said Clara, as she opened the door for them. "Well. Until next Christmas, Doctor."
"Until next Christmas," he promised.
Molly followed him outside, then turned to wave goodbye to Clara. "Merry Christmas, Clara."
"Happy Christmas…" began Clara, then she paused. "Oh! Wait a moment." She disappeared back into the house.
Molly glanced with confusion at the Doctor, who shrugged. After a minute of shivering, Clara returned, and held out a small box wrapped with green paper. "Thomas bought it for Olivia, but he keeps forgetting she hates this sort of thing."
Molly stared down at the green package wrapped in a red bow as though she couldn't quite believe it really existed. "I can't…"
"Really, she'll never miss it," said Clara, holding it closer to Molly. "It'll just end up sold or donated. You said you've never had a real Christmas before, and this is part of the experience. Go on."
Molly hoped the tears in her eyes wouldn't freeze to her lashes as she reached out and gently took the box. "Thank you, Clara," she could barely whisper.
"Open it," the Doctor encouraged, seeming even more excited than she was for her first Christmas present.
Molly took a breath, and ripped at the paper, wishing she knew the balance between being excited enough and being respectful enough to tear the paper the right way. Still, the butterflies in her stomach were more from excitement than nerves as she handed the paper to the Doctor, and then slipped the lid off the little golden cardboard box.
Inside was a little, dainty necklace, a teardrop emerald (or perhaps another stone that looked like an emerald) on a golden chain. Her favorite color, something akin to her favorite stone, a little piece of jewelry she could wear next to her heart to remember this moment. It was perfect. The perfect first Christmas present.
She looked back at Clara. "It's too much."
"If it was, I wouldn't have given it to you," she said. "So, you like it?"
Molly started back down at it in wonder. "It's perfect."
"Good," Clara smiled. "Next year I'll have something even better, so you make sure he comes back."
"I will." Molly immediately began searching her memory for something that would be perfect to bring Clara.
"Happy Christmas, Clara," said the Doctor, instead of 'goodbye'.
"Happy Christmas, Doctor," said Clara. Then she turned to Molly with a wicked smile. "Happy Christmas, Molly Quinn."
She quickly shut the door, and left Molly staring at the red ribbon of the wreath for a long time before she turned to the Doctor. "Did she know who I was the whole time?"
"Probably," the Doctor admitted, though he also seemed a bit stunned. "I watched it with her more than anyone."
Molly sighed, and shook her head. Maybe next time they could explain what had happened.
If there was a next time, Molly remembered with disappointment. She'd likely be gone before the Doctor came back.
To take her mind off the sadness, she began pulling her new necklace out of the box as she headed back to the TARDIS. "Okay, off to the next one."
Another change of clothes (back to the first, at least) and they were on their way to 13 Bannerman Road.
Stepping into the TARDIS in winter and out of the TARDIS in summer was a dizzying experience, but of course the Doctor never seemed to notice. That was his normal.
They walked up the drive to the front door under the bright, warm sunshine, and this time Molly took the initiative and knocked. Sarah Jane must have heard the TARDIS arriving, because Molly had to quickly pull her fist away from the door as it swung open while Sarah Jane shouted – "Doctor!"
"Sarah Jane!" the Doctor shouted warmly back.
Sarah Jane Smith stood staring for a moment, her mouth hung open slightly but her eyes bright and sparkling. But it didn't take long for her to pull herself together, and the pleasantly surprised expression turned to concern. "What are you doing here? Has something happened?"
"No, no, nothing," replied the Doctor, stepping in as Sarah Jane stepped aside to let them in. "Just dropped by to say hello, that sort of thing."
"To say hello?" Sarah Jane repeated back, confused. She shut the door behind them. "You don't do that."
"Trying it out," replied the Doctor as he invited himself further into the house and looked around. "Thought maybe it could be a new hobby."
Sarah Jane seemed a bit speechless at this major change in the Doctor's behavior. But she turned to Molly with a little smile. "You look familiar."
Molly couldn't keep from her eyes going a bit wide, and she looked back at the Doctor to glare accusingly, but he was actively looking everywhere but at her. She turned back to Sarah Jane and hoped a disarming grin would erase that moment. "One of those faces," she said, hoping the fewer words would help her get away with lying. "Nice to meet you. I'm Molly."
"I'm Sarah Jane. The Doctor and I go way back," explained Sarah Jane, in case the Doctor hadn't. "It's good to meet you."
Sarah Jane's smile expressed that she was genuinely glad to meet another of the Doctor's friends, to know who it was that was keeping an eye on him now. Molly's smile became more natural. She wished she'd spent more time watching the classic episodes.
The Doctor headed up the stairs suddenly, and Sarah Jane quickly followed. "What are you looking for?"
As Molly followed, she heard the Doctor reply, "Don't you have a son in here somewhere?"
She heard Sarah Jane laugh. "It's summer holidays. He's out with his friends. Should be back in a few hours if you want to say hello."
"No, no," the Doctor said, distractedly looking around the attic now. "Just popping by. Making sure everything's alright." He paused, and looked back at Sarah Jane. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, Doctor, everything's fine," Sarah Jane replied warmly, moving forward to take him by the shoulders and pull him to face her instead of going through a pile of drawings on a desk. "Now, what are you really doing here?"
"Really here to see you!" said the Doctor, grinning, removing Sarah Jane's hands from his shoulders, then tapping the tops of hers to reassure her. "It's new. Just trying it out, as I said. Any invasion problems lately? Anything I can help with?" Searching for adventure with her.
"Oh, nothing we couldn't handle. It's been quiet lately," said Sarah Jane, sitting at her desk and crossing her legs. "How about you, Doctor? Busy, as always?"
"Not always," the Doctor said, now turning to look through the room again. "Almost always, yes."
Sarah Jane watched as the Doctor seemed to examine every inch of the attic. "What are you looking for?"
"I think he's looking for K9," replied Molly, smiling as she leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms.
"Oh! You should've said so," said Sarah Jane as she stood, and she moved beside Molly to shout down the stairs: "K9! Come to the attic!" She turned and went back to stand by her desk and explained, "He's probably in Luke's room. Luke is going to take him to university next year."
Molly heard something mechanical behind her and turned just in time to see K9 manage to roll up the last step, and move past her towards the room. She fought back the urge to scream his name at him or to throw herself on the ground and wrap her arms around him, but it was a closer fight than with anyone else she'd met so far.
"Master!" K9 shouted the moment he laid eyes on the Doctor. It didn't matter that the Doctor had a different face now, K9 would always know him, it seemed.
"K9!" screamed the Doctor the way Molly had wanted to, and he got on his knees in front of him. "You look well taken-care of. No repairs needed?"
"Negative, Master," replied K9. "Mistress and Luke perform any repairs I may need."
"Good boy," The Doctor pet his metal dog for a while before standing and grinning at Sarah Jane again. "Glad you've been able to keep him in shape."
"Oh, it's mostly Luke," admitted Sarah Jane. "Mr. Smith helps sometimes, too, though he seems to resent it."
The Doctor waved Molly over. "Come meet my dog! Well, Sarah Jane's dog."
"Our dog." Sarah Jane made it a little simpler.
Molly smiled and rushed over, kneeling on the ground beside K9. "Hi, K9," she greeted.
The Doctor gestured to Molly. "K9, this is-"
"Greetings, Molly Quinn," said K9. "You are listed as a fictional character in the TARDIS records."
"Molly Quinn?" Sarah Jane sounded confused while the Doctor quickly stepped over K9 to stand next to her. "Why is that name familiar?"
The Doctor winced. "Uh, well-"
K9 cut in. "Molly Quinn is the main character in the drama television program the Phoenix. It was cancelled after its third season. The first episode has been played on the TARDIS ninety-t-"
"That's enough!" the Doctor cut in. "I think she's got it."
By now Molly's slightly panicked eyes met Sarah Jane's bewildered ones. "Molly Quinn? You're that Molly Quinn? From that program the Doctor used to watch?"
There was nowhere else to go from there. "Um. Yeah."
Sarah Jane looked at the Doctor. "What do you mean by saying 'nothing's happening'? This is nothing?"
"I mean…"
"How did this happen?"
Molly turned to K9 while the Doctor filled Sarah Jane in. She wondered if she could get away with petting him. "Hey. K9."
"Yes, Molly Quinn?"
"You're a good dog."
"Affirmative."
"You're my favorite dog."
"Explain?"
"You're a great dog. And also, the only dog I've ever met." Save for the occasional dog out on a walk, it was, sadly, true. No one she'd lived with had owned a dog, and she'd never had friends and therefore no opportunity to bond with a friend's dog, so this was her first chance to sit and pet a dog. Even if he was metal. "But mostly the 'great' part."
"Correction available."
"Correction?"
"I am the best dog."
"Absolutely the best dog." She hid her crossed fingers. "May I pat you on the head?"
"Affirmative."
Thankfully, her squeal was soft enough that neither the Doctor nor Sarah Jane seemed to hear her, and she reached out and pat K9 on the head, right between the ears. She grinned when his ears wiggled.
Molly continued petting K9 as she turned to listen in on the Doctor and Sarah Jane, who seemed to now be past the story of how Molly had gotten there, and were now on Sarah Jane's recent adventures with the kids. Molly listened in as though watching an episode, and felt that maybe this day made up for all the time she'd lost for rewatches.
Eventually the conversation got to the Doctor, and what he'd been doing since they'd seen each other last, and Molly noticed he kept mostly to the more optimistic highlights. It was fun, though, seeing Sarah Jane's reaction to stories about Amy and Rory, River, and Clara. And she was surprised that, though he tried to keep to the happier parts, the Doctor didn't hold back from any personal details of the stories he told, even details with River. Sarah Jane really was his best friend.
Molly gave as short and impersonal explanation of everything that had happened to her after she'd been shot on the show as she could (she kept mostly to 'had surgery, went to physical rehab, flew to London'). K9 and the Doctor sat together for a bit as Molly asked Sarah Jane questions about her time with the Doctor, and Sarah Jane did the same for her.
It must have been over an hour before the Doctor gave K9 one last pat, stood, stuck his hands in his pockets, and looked over at the stairwell. "Suppose we'd better be off. Lots to see. Loads to do."
Sarah Jane nodded, and walked with them back down to the front door. She gave the Doctor a hug, and Molly saw Sarah Jane's eyes a little sad, but understanding. She was the Doctor's best friend, after all. She knew he didn't come to stay for long. "Have a trip 'round a planet for me," she said, and turned and gave Molly a hug. "And keep yourselves safe."
"Goodbye, Master!" K9 had followed behind them, it seemed.
The Doctor smiled down at K9. "Be a good dog for me."
"It is statistically proven that I am always 'good'."
"That's right," replied the Doctor, smiling.
Molly gave K9 a quick pet, and gave Sarah Jane a wave, and it was already time to say goodbye to 13 Bannerman Road.
Neither of them spoke until they were back on the TARDIS. Molly waited, but the Doctor's expression went from happy to thoughtful, to some sort of regretful sadness, and Molly felt the universe crushing her as she thought that maybe that visit hadn't gone as well as she'd thought. Maybe he wasn't coping as well with seeing Sarah Jane as she'd thought, maybe he was thinking about the call he'd get about her someday and it was all her fault. Maybe it had all been a mistake.
If he wasn't going to talk, she had to change the subject. She had to get him smiling again. "Okay, well, we're all done now! I can stop bullying you into seeing someone. Zero to go. Off to Hatch?"
She watched as the Doctor leaned back against the center console, his arms folded as he looked down. He didn't say anything, or even seemed to have noticed she'd said anything at all, until he shook his head. "No. No. One more stop for the Un-Farewell Tour."
Molly stared back at him, half in relief that it hadn't been a mistake after all, half in wondering. "Who?"
The Doctor stared down for a moment longer, then looked up at her, and gave a small, sad smile.
The TARDIS landed outside the little house. He'd moved out of the city, somewhere quieter, surrounded by green hills. Molly wondered if he'd chosen Scotland for a specific reason.
They walked up a little dirt path to the door. Molly looked back to examine the well-trimmed bushes, sparkling in the light mist of rain and the setting sun, and then over at a few plots along the inside of the fence that looked like they usually contained flowers, but most of them had died in the autumn chill. She turned forward to look at the rough woodgrain of the door.
The Doctor stood very still. Neither of them moved to knock. It was a full minute before the Doctor swallowed, then whispered, "Do you think he hates me?"
"No. I don't think so." But she didn't know.
Almost another minute, and then, "The reminders I asked you to…remind me of, please."
"He doesn't have many people to talk to, who know what really happened to them."
"Another."
"He deserves to get to talk about them with you."
"Another, please."
"He deserves to hear about all the things they did those last days."
"Another."
"He deserves to know about all the people they saved."
The Doctor didn't speak again, but he took a deep breath. He stared down at the ground for a few, long seconds, and then took another deep breath, and quickly knocked, as though terrified he'd lose his nerve. He glanced at Molly and she saw, only briefly, a sort of melancholy panic. This was one where she couldn't promise that everything would be fine.
The door rattled as it opened, and he was revealed. He looked older, more lines in his face, significantly more grey in his hair. He wore a worn beige bathrobe over the top of his clothes, to protect from the chill Molly could feel inside the house. She waited as her heart pounded to see what expression his familiar-but-older face would form.
He stared at the Doctor as though wondering if he was hallucinating. The Doctor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and finally tried – and failed – to smile. "Hello, Brian."
Brian frowned, still looking as though he wasn't sure what he was seeing could possibly be real. "Doc…Doctor?"
"Been a while," the Doctor said softly, what might have been raindrops falling from his eyelids as he blinked. "Mind if we come in?"
Molly would understand if Brian wouldn't let them in. She thought the Doctor would understand, too. The Doctor felt very small in this moment, almost as though he was someone else entirely, as he waited for Brian's response.
Brian stood, staring so intently at the Doctor that Molly wondered if he even realized she was there. He blinked a few times. Then he took a step back from the door. "You're really here? You really came?"
"Yes, Brian. I'm really here."
"It's just…" he started, and for a moment he sounded as lost as he looked. "It's just it's been so long. I thought by now, there was no chance you'd…but you're really here."
"Brian…" the Doctor began, the slightest crack in it, but he couldn't seem to say more.
"Yeah. Come in. Of course, come in," said Brian, turning and headed back into the little house. "I've got the kettle going. We can have some tea."
The Doctor glanced at Molly, and she tried to smile encouragingly as the Doctor stepped into the house. Molly closed the door behind her as they followed Brian through a narrow hallway to a little kitchen, a fold-up card table used in place of a regular kitchen table. A clean white kettle was on the stove, and Brian went straight to the cupboards to pull out two other mis-matched mugs. He glanced back while he rinsed the dust out of them in the sink. "Sorry I'm…" he paused as he poured water out of the mugs. "I'm just surprised, is all. Didn't think I'd be seeing you again. After…well." He set the mugs on the counter beside his. "You know, that friend of yours, the one with the hair and that…that unusual name…"
"River?" the Doctor asked as he took a seat. "River came to see you?"
Brian nodded, not looking back over at them, but focused on drying the mugs. "She came over one day, when Rory had been gone long enough that all his friends thought…" He cleared his throat. "She told me about what happened. About the Angels, and the graveyard. I asked if you were coming, and…" He set the mugs carefully on the counter again, and turned them all so the handles were all perfected spaced from each other. "We both thought you wouldn't. Now it's been…six years? Seven years? I didn't think I'd see you again."
"Brian…"
"My grandson came over one day, before that. A week after you and Rory and Amy left." Brian continued as though he hadn't heard the Doctor speak. "He was older than me. How do you like that? Your grandson, few years older than you. But he brought me a letter, from Rory. It was a good, thick one. Rory wrote it when my grandson was a baby, and then added to it over the years, letting me know what his life was like. I'd say 'at least I got that', but that's a lot more than most people get."
"Brian-" this time, the Doctor was interrupted by the kettle screaming. Brian took it off the heat, and poured water in the cups over the tea. He set the kettle down and carefully brought the three mugs over, then pulled the chair beside Molly around to sit at another edge of the table.
"Let me know if anyone needs any cream, or sugar, or anything," he said as he picked up his mug and tentatively sipped it, setting it back down when it was clearly too hot still.
"Brian…" the Doctor tried again. It seemed to take some force for him to move his eyes from the bottom of his mug to Brian. "I'm sorry."
Brian stared back a long moment. He picked the mug back up and went to take a drink from it just for the excuse to look away, but then paused and set it aside again. He looked back at the Doctor, and for the first time Brian's face seemed to have some real movement in it as he smiled a little. "Doctor…I'm glad they went with you. Because I was right – how many people get that chance? How many people did they save when they were with you? And then they settled down and had a baby. If you think that wasn't exactly what Rory should've done, you didn't know my son at all."
This moment was too private for Molly to feel comfortable witnessing, and it felt an insult for her to be in the place Rory would've been if he hadn't died, here, in front of his father. But she was grateful to him for the olive branch. He had every right to be furious, but instead, he said exactly what the Doctor needed to hear.
Brian continued, "And I told Amy's parents. I'm not sure if they believed me, but I told them, and I showed them the pictures Rory sent me. I thought they should know what happened to their daughter, too."
The Doctor stared down at his hands for a long time before he could reply. "I should have kept them safe. And…I tried, Brian. I did. I'm so sorry it wasn't enough." As the Doctor tried to explain all the ways he'd tried to save them both, Molly looked around the kitchen. There wasn't much that made it stand out: it was perfectly ordinary, white tile counters, dark cupboards. Whereas in America there might have been more cupboard space below, instead there was a washer and dryer. A few plates sat in the sink that were brightly colored but didn't match, and the appliances all seemed white, though the fridge was covered in postcards and polaroids.
Molly couldn't hold back a gasp as she recognized someone in one of them. "Is that Wilf?"
The Doctor stopped mid-word and turned his head quickly as if expecting Wilf to be standing behind him. "Wilf? Where?"
"On the fridge," Molly pointed.
The Doctor hopped out of his chair and searched the fridge, and pulled the polaroid of Wilf and Brian standing beside each other wearing sunglasses on a beach off the fridge and looked down at it, and then continued to search the fridge for the other pictures of Wilf, and a few of the postcards. "What? What's this?"
"Oh, so you've met Wilf, too?" Brian asked Molly, and then turned to the Doctor. "We met online. We both talked around the subject for a while, but finally it came out that we both knew you. He told me about Donna. I told him about Rory. I still like to travel sometimes, and I'll send him postcards, and he'll send me postcards back, though they're all from London." He stood and took the postcards, and flipped them around to show the Doctor that they were all typically London tourist-y. "We met up a couple times. He's nice to talk to. I don't have to pretend I don't know where my son is, and he doesn't have to pretend he doesn't know what it is his granddaughter can't remember." He handed the postcard back, and turned around to face Molly fully. "Sorry. Forgot to introduce myself. I'm Brian."
"Hi, Brian," Molly said, hoping her smile was somehow respectful. "I'm Molly."
"You're the new one, then?"
Molly wasn't sure how to answer that without sounding like she was taking Rory's place. "I didn't meet the Doctor that long ago." Maybe hearing that the Doctor hadn't gone straight out to find a replacement would help the awkwardness.
"Yeah? Been anywhere interesting yet?"
Molly glanced over to see the Doctor still flipping through postcards, then back to Brian. "I met mermaids from space?"
This got a genuine laugh out of Brian. "Mermaids from space! That's exciting. I met dinosaurs from space, once."
"That sounds even better." Watching the episode had definitely been more fun than being kidnapped by mermaids from space, anyway.
"Yeah," he agreed.
The Doctor finally looked up from the postcards. Now it was impossible for the water in his eyes to be rainwater. "You talk to Wilf?" It was the Doctor, now, who was struggling to understand reality. But he didn't seem horrified – he seemed reassured. These two people who had been companions for only a brief period of time, who had one way or another lost their children or grandchildren in a way no one else would understand, had found each other. Brian had someone to talk to all this time, after all.
"We'll meet somewhere near him, sometimes. Went to a beach once. Played golf. I think he purposefully aims his ball at the lake so we'll have to give up and go back to the clubhouse for a drink."
"But you…you've talked about Donna?"
Brian sat back down. "Yeah. She's doing well, he says. He mentioned she…" and Brian paused now, seeming to have realized what he was saying, and that it would really mean something to the Doctor. "She had a baby, Doctor. A while back. And they're both well, mother and baby. Child, now. I'm not sure how old they are, but apparently old enough to be getting on his daughter's nerves." That sounded like Sylvia Noble.
The Doctor moved back to his chair and sat, dropping some of the pictures on the table while he stared down at a particular one. When he noticed her looking, the Doctor showed it to Molly: A photo of Donna, looking a little irritated up at the camera, but a smile still on her mouth as she held a tiny baby in a white blanket.
She would never know Donna personally like the Doctor did, but it still made her fight back tears to see Donna so happy. And if she was feeling overwhelmed, she couldn't imagine how the Doctor was feeling now.
There seemed to be too many people in this kitchen. There was one of them who didn't need to be there. So, she stood, and smiled at both the Doctor and Brian. "I think I'm going to head back to the TARDIS. You two stay and talk. Take your time." She held her hand out towards the Doctor for the key. The Doctor watched her hand for a long moment, but then he handed her the key, and she thought she saw an expression of gratitude in his eyes.
"Thanks for…" began Brian, standing, and he offered his hand. "Thanks for coming by."
"Thanks for having me," she said. She considered thanking him for the tea, but she hadn't even gotten around to taking a sip, and it felt rude to draw attention to that. "I'm glad we met."
And even more glad to see him get one last chance to talk to the Doctor about Rory and Amy, and their son.
Molly walked back into the TARDIS, her heart oddly racing, as though she were the one who had gone in to apologize to Brian. The nervous energy wouldn't leave her alone, and she started pacing around the center console. Finally, she turned and headed for her ballet studio. She didn't know how long the Doctor would take, but she needed to do something, and he could always find her when he was back.
It was about forty-five minutes later that she'd finished her stretches, warm up, and short practice, changed, and headed back to the control room. The Doctor was just walking in the door. His face was pensive.
"Everything work out okay?" she asked anxiously.
When he looked over to her, she noted a sort of relief on his face, or something deeper, like an old, haunting memory was finally put to rest. "We talked. We talked about a lot of things. It was good. I think…I think he doesn't hate me, after all," he said. His next words were colored with a little guilt. "I think he still likes me, actually."
He seemed both happy with Brian's forgiveness, and that he regretted it. He still hadn't forgiven himself for Amy and Rory. But she still believed talking to Brian was a major step to healing, and she was proud of him for making that choice himself.
The feelings of relief and pride built in her chest until Molly walked forward and hugged him tight, without thinking about it. "I'm really proud of you for doing this. I know it wasn't easy."
He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. "Thanks, Molly." He didn't seem able to say much more than that, but it was okay.
She pulled back, and headed over to the console. "So. Do you still want to do Hatch?"
She felt the Doctor approach behind her. "Molly," he began, and then hesitated. "You never talk about your dad."
The walls shot up with remarkable speed. She stared down at the pearl pad, refusing to let him see the flash of emotion in her eyes. "No," she said, her voice tight. "I don't." She hoped she said it solidly enough it made him set the subject aside.
But he persisted. "The show never said, exactly. We were told he was somewhere far away, that he called sometimes while you were growing up. But not why you ended up in foster care, why he wasn't a part of your life anymore."
She tried not to be enraged at him. It wasn't his fault he was curious. She would have been, too. "He isn't a part of my life anymore. He's irrelevant. That's all."
"Molly-"
She finally turned to him. "I know I have a lot of secrets. I know it's not fair. I know so many of yours, but you don't know mine," she said. "They're all connected to the same secret. That's why I can't tell you. That's why I can't tell you what happened when I was thirteen, or about the names, or why I have PTSD, or how my mom died, or what I did when I didn't help someone, or where my father is and why he isn't in my life anymore. And I'm sorry. I just…can't tell you. I can't."
The Doctor stared back at her a moment. His eyes were narrowed with curiosity, or concern, or both. "…so your father is involved with all of it, somehow," he theorized.
She made a sound of disgust and turned to walk away. This wasn't a conversation she was willing to have. But he took her arm and turned her back towards him, and said, "I'm sorry, Molly. I solve mysteries, it's what I do. I'm trying not to think about it too much, I promise. But I-"
"Can't help it," Molly finished. "I know. It's who you are. You can't turn your brain off, and your ability to examine and deduce and predict is much more advanced than pretty much anyone else." She paused, as a thought occurred to her that made her stomach twist. "I wouldn't be surprised if you had a number of theories already that are pretty close to if not exactly what happened. And you've shown a lot of self-control not asking me, or talking about it around me, and I appreciate it. But I'm not going to talk about it. I'm not."
He slowly released her arm. "Understandable." He turned back to the controls. "So, can we officially declare the Un-Farewell Tour finished?"
Molly smiled and nodded, relieved at the change in subject. "Yep. All done. You did great."
"Brilliant," the Doctor responded, smiling back. "Ready for some springtime? To Hatch?"
"To Hatch."
Author's Note: Was I sober when I was writing about K9? No. No, I was not.