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None of this was supposed to happen.
The Doctor wanted to live in the present. Spending her last days in this body with the woman she loves. Not asking for more. Just simply being.
But then, her luck ran out.
She still isn’t quite sure how she got here, in a box, held by the Master again.
There were Daleks and Cybermen and faces from her past and a plan that could have worked - should have worked - but instead the Doctor found herself held helplessly, just like their last encounter on Gallifrey.
It all fell apart so fast that she’s still trying to put the pieces together, but one thought rises above the rest.
Yaz.
The last time she heard her, Yaz was screaming her name.
The last time she saw her, she was lifeless on the ground.
The last time she touched her, she’d kissed her just in case.
But she didn’t think it would truly be the last time.
Now she’s not so sure.
She’s still groggy and slightly disoriented, but is pulled from her thoughts quickly at the Master’s presence in front of her. “Oh, Doctor, you’d think you’d make it harder for me by now, but here you are yet again.”
“Where’s Yaz?” She doesn’t care if he thinks she’s weak for asking. It’s the only thing she needs to know. He smirks and it unsettles her in a way she’s never been before.
“Don’t worry,” he teases. “She’s closer than you think.” The Doctor furrows her brow, eyes darting around the empty room in front of them. “Well, not physically, of course,” he adds as an afterthought and the words make the Doctor’s blood run cold.
“Where is she?” she asks, trying to muster enough strength to sound threatening but failing.
The Master reaches into his pocket and retrieves a watch. The Doctor recognises it immediately. Still broken, preserving Umbreen and Prem’s moment in time.
“That’s not yours,” is all she can manage to say. She doesn’t want to think about how it came into his possession. Yaz once told the Doctor she’d protect it with her life. She swallows nervously, trying to bury that thought away for now. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“Funny old things, humans,” the Master starts. “So sentimental, aren’t they? Keeping a broken old watch as a reminder of something so tragic. As if a physical object could hold actual memories for them.”
The Doctor thinks about her own watch, still hidden in the depths of the TARDIS, and that’s when recognition sinks in. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. It’s not possible.
He laughs as the Doctor processes her thoughts.
In her hearts, the Doctor knows what he’s done. But she can’t quite verbalise it. “Where is she?” she asks again, needing to know if Yaz is alive or-
The Master raises an eyebrow. “She’s right here, Doctor,” he says, displaying the watch in front of her. Now that it’s closer, she can see the subtle glow of orange and she feels physically ill. “Or at least, her memories of you are. But that’s the important part, right?” He laughs again, hollow and vindictive.
The confirmation hits the Doctor like a blow to the chest and she desperately tries to hold herself together. “What do you want from me?” she asks, voice shaking.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he replies, taking another watch out of his pocket. The one that should be in the depth of the TARDIS. The Doctor doesn’t understand, feels like her whole world is collapsing around her, and it’s clear the Master is revelling in her confusion. “You’re maybe asking yourself ‘how’ or ‘when’, but the real question you should be asking yourself, Doctor, is ‘why’?” Her mind races with the possibilities. “I want to hear you ask me.”
Fear floods every inch of her body as she whispers “Why?”
From the way the Master’s face lights up, she can tell he’s been waiting for this moment. That this is the peak of his plan.
“Because it’s your memories or hers.”
Immediately, without question, her gut picks Yaz.
“Oh, but here’s the kicker, Doctor. Because I know you’re ready to make yourself a martyr.” Bile rises in her throat at how easily he reads her. “I’ve had a little peek in here,” he says, rubbing his fingers over Umbreen’s watch. “And you haven’t been good to her, have you?”
“I-”
“Not good enough to love, Doctor? I get that. She’s weak. Full of adoration for someone who pushed her away, treated her like dirt, and yet she came crawling back every time expecting something different. Something more. And you never gave it to her, did you? Instead, you dangled it in front of her like a bone and snatched it away. Thousands of years old and you couldn’t even give a few weeks to satisfy her stupid crush.”
The Doctor swallows the emotion rising in her throat.
“At least she knows she’s worthless,” the Master scoffs. “She always did, you know? Actually thought everyone would be better off without her. But you really, really helped her believe it.”
The Doctor replays I want to tell you everything, and it’d be you, and you’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever known in her mind and wonders how Yaz still couldn’t see it. But then she thinks back to all the times she’s pushed her away, and Yaz breaking their gaze on the beach, turning away from her utterly heartbroken, and the Doctor realises that instead of conveying how much she loves her, all this time she’s made Yaz think she wasn’t worth it.
And then she catches up with the Master’s train of thought.
Yaz could be better off not remembering.
Would she?
The Master can see the moment the penny drops. “It’d be so easy, Doctor. To just-” he pretends to crush the watch in his hand and the Doctor’s breath hitches. “To just let her go back to her stupid little life, face your past and stop playing around with these pathetic humans.”
Suddenly, one thought ploughs through the rest and it shocks her that she hadn’t asked sooner. “She’s alive?” It comes out as more of a prayer than a question.
“She’s no use to me if she’s dead, Doctor, keep up,” he scoffs, clicking his fingers. Then, his expression shifts as he processes what the Doctor asked. “Interesting. So, so interesting. You’d still fight for this even if she’s dead?”
The Doctor knows without a doubt she’d do anything to protect any part of Yasmin Khan.
“What would you even do with them?” the Master ponders. “Without a body to put them in?”
The description sits uncomfortably in the Doctor’s chest. The thought of Yaz as a body, an empty shell, without the memories of their shared experience - their love - is one of the most harrowing mental images she’d ever envisioned.
The Master runs his eyes over the Doctor and she can see the spark of an idea ignite in his gaze. Suddenly, he throws his head back with laughter and claps his hands together. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this. How didn’t I think of it before,” he smirks, shaking his head. “Memories mean nothing if they’re not felt, Doctor, and I think it’s time you got a better understanding of the mess you made.”
Before she even has time to speak, a bright orange light jumps from Umbreen’s watch and makes contact with the Doctor’s temple. The force causes her to stumble back a little before she steadies herself.
Her first instinct is to fight against it. It’s intrusive. She’s becoming witness to things Yaz didn’t want her to know. But the Master’s energy keeps pushing the memories inside her and she’s not strong enough to expel the thoughts as they appear.
It’s painful. She sees a country road and a police officer, followed by a deep sense of despair. She sees a wall of post-its, accompanied by grief. She sees herself as a hologram, blurred through tears, with an unsettling sense of longing. She sees Dan in the warehouse and feels Yaz’s heart rattling in her chest as she scrambles for words she isn’t ready to say yet. She hears herself say while we still have it before heartbreak overwhelms her.
She sees every moment of their time together through Yaz’s eyes and feels every ounce of Yaz’s pain.
She doesn’t recognise the scream that leaves her body as she closes her eyes and desperately tries to push back against the torrent of guilt rising in her bones.
She fights back, hard, and somehow it works.
But, when she opens her eyes, she sees strands of orange glow leave her finger tips and disappear into the air in front of her. The Master is speaking but she can’t hear him, too overwhelmed by the terror flowing through her veins. The memories aren’t going back to the watch. Instead, they’re burning up from her hands into nothing.
“YAZ!” she screams in a voice so distraught she isn’t sure it came from her own body.
The Doctor reverses her tactic and desperately tries to remember everything she’s just seen. She takes it all in, forcing herself to fully immerse in Yaz’s memories and preserve them, as painful as they may be, clinging to any shred of hope that they’re not lost forever.
Because she knows now that, no matter how much the truth hurts, she would never want to lose this forever. The pain acts as evidence of her love for Yaz and she suddenly understands that’s how Yaz must feel, too.
All this pain in her chest and Yaz still managed to hope.
She wouldn’t want to forget.
But the Doctor looks at her hands, still glowing orange, and can see the images in her mind fading fast.
None of this was supposed to happen.
The Master’s voice comes back into focus and she only hears part of what he’s saying. “...choose, Doctor.” His tone is laced with sick enjoyment as he watches her suffer.
“Yaz!” she pleads. The Master doesn’t move. “Save her,” she begs, overlooking the joy on the Master’s face at her request.
She can feel the time running out as the memories become less and less clear in her mind. Panic overrides any sense of fight she has left and she punches her fists against the glass of the cage in desperation. Her patience is well and truly running out. “SAVE HER!” she repeats, screaming at the Master’s inaction. “Please.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “All you had to do was ask politely.”
True to his word, the orange stream makes its way back to Umbreen’s watch and the Doctor stumbles with relief, hitting the back wall of the box. She lowers herself to the ground, breathless, running her hands over the space on her temples where Yaz’s memories had entered her.
But the Master won’t allow her the moment.
“You made your choice, Doctor. Say goodbye to your past.”
She barely has time to scramble to her feet before the Master drops her fob watch to the ground and stamps on it, hard. It shatters in front of her eyes and the Doctor instinctively reaches out for it, but gets nowhere.
The Master stands beside the broken pieces of the watch, chest heaving with adrenaline, eyes full of psychotic pleasure. “I hope you realise what you’ve done,” he breathes. “Long after she’s gone, you’ll have to live with this. Your history - our history - lost, and for what?” His eyes fill with tears, angry and unshed. “You do this to me. Do you see? This… this rage. This anger. It’s you. It’s what you do to the people around you. You’re not the saviour you think you are. You’re a disease. A parasite.”
The Doctor climbs fully to her feet and meets his gaze, confidence returning. “You’re wrong.”
He laughs mirthlessly. “Am I? Or do I know you better than you know yourself?”
“You’re wrong,” she repeats, standing strong. “This anger? It’s because you care. Whether you like it or not. It’s nothing to do with me. That’s all you.”
The Master grits his teeth, but doesn’t have a further chance to speak before he’s struck from behind and falls to the ground, paralysed by a forcefield. The action frees the energy on the box holding the Doctor captive, and Umbreen's watch rattles on the concrete floor as it escapes from the Master’s grasp.
The Doctor immediately panics, wondering what new threat has materialised, but when she brings her eyes back up, she sees Yaz.
Her Yaz.
Beautiful, brave Yaz.
But most importantly, alive Yaz, holding the gun that just paralysed the Master, still visibly struggling on the ground.
“Yaz!” she shouts, clambering out of the box to approach her. On her way, she grabs Umbreen’s watch, holding on to it for dear life. “With me!” She desperately needs to get them out of there before the forcefield holding the Master wears off. She doesn’t want to think about the possibility of him taking Yaz from her again.
At the mention of her name, Yaz meets the Doctor’s gaze, but there’s no recognition there, no relief, no sense of acknowledgement. Instead, there’s fear and confusion. Despite that, the Doctor is grateful when Yaz starts running to keep up with her as she bolts from the room, and is even more relieved when they turn a corner and see the familiar sight of the TARDIS.
Well, familiar to one of them.
As Yaz steps inside, her movements become cautious. “I… what is this place? Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Yaz…”
“I woke up on the ground back there and heard you scream my name, that’s why I came but- I don’t know why,” she explains, confused by her own actions. “Who are you?”
The Doctor softens with every word. She still can’t quite believe Yaz is alive.
“I’m the Doctor, and you’re Yaz, and I call you that because we’re friends.” The Doctor presents the watch in her palm. “This watch belonged to your Nani, Umbreen.” Yaz furrows her brow even deeper, clearly wondering how something so precious had come into the Doctor’s possession. “Right now, though, it’s being used to store your memories of us. He took them from you,” she says, barely acknowledging the still restrained Master they left behind. He’s a problem for later.
Yaz shakes her head. “How… How is any of that possible?”
“That’s a long answer, but what’s in this watch explains everything. You know this world. You know who he is. You know me, Yaz.” The Doctor reaches out to pass the watch to her. “You might be the only person who really does, in all honesty.”
Yaz takes the watch and studies it in her palm. “What do I have to do?”
“Just invite it in.”
Yaz runs her fingers over it a few more times, still contemplating. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t. But you already did, back there. And I think you can feel it.”
While her usual recognition and love is still missing, when Yaz makes eye contact with the Doctor again there’s a shift. It’s small and subtle and barely there, but the Doctor sees it. Yaz studies her for what feels like an eternity.
“Will it hurt?”
The Doctor can’t lie to her. “Physically, no.”
The meaning clearly isn’t lost on Yaz, who flinches at the idea of inviting in memories that could hurt her. Then, she smiles, looking down at the watch face. “My Nani always says that courage is knowing something will hurt, but doing it anyway.”
The Doctor’s hearts leap in her chest. “You told me that once, in different circumstances.”
“I did? When?”
“That has to be your decision,” the Doctor says, looking down at the watch. “If you want to know, it’s all in there.”
Yaz gives the Doctor one last glance before closing her eyes and gripping the watch tightly. The orange stems of her memories pour from the watch, back through her temples and into their rightful home. She stumbles under the power of them and the Doctor surges forward to wrap a strong arm around her waist and lower her to the ground, just as her legs buckle.
The weight of regaining her memories leaves Yaz breathless and dazed, so the Doctor allows her a few moments to adjust. “You’re okay, Yaz, just take your time. I’m right here.”
“Doctor…?”
The recognition in Yaz’s voice as she says her name, along with the love that’s returned in her eyes, is enough to make the Doctor break. “Yeah, it’s me, I’m here,” she chokes out through relieved tears.
“Why are you crying?” she asks, still trying to piece everything together.
The Doctor laughs. “Just happy to see you, that’s all.”
Yaz reaches up and wipes away the tear tracks from her cheeks and chin. “Come here,” she says, pulling the Doctor in for a soft kiss. As they pull away, the Doctor keeps her hands on Yaz’s cheeks and rests their foreheads together.
“Thought I’d lost you, y’know. For good.”
Yaz gives her a sad smile. “I know.” There’s a moment before she speaks again. “I think I can remember it.”
“You can… oh.” The Doctor didn’t expect part of her own memory to be pushed out into the watch along with Yaz’s but she’s glad it was. She hopes it acts as confirmation of how much she loves her, how much she cares, how far she’d go to save her. “Don't ever forget it.”
“I won't.”
The Doctor presses one more kiss to Yaz’s lips, before getting up and reaching an arm out to help Yaz to her feet.
They’re far from being out of danger yet - the Master is still out there and, more importantly, the Doctor can still feel Time’s presence over her shoulder, ready to strike at any moment and take this all away from her for good.
But it’s all background noise that pales in comparison to the feeling of having Yaz back. The Doctor keeps hold of Yaz’s hand just a little longer, even when they’ve both got to their feet, not at all ready to let go, physically or metaphorically.
Yaz gives it a squeeze, clearly sensing the Doctor’s emotion. “I’m here, Doctor. I’m right here.”
It all feels like borrowed time. Every second with Yaz is now one more than the Doctor thought she’d get, and every single one is precious. She kisses her again, just because she can, slightly haphazardly, as her emotions threaten to get the better of her yet again.
“I love you,” comes out before she can stop it and Yaz’s eyes go wide. The Doctor’s shown her love and said it in more roundabout ways, but it’s the first time she’s put it so plainly. She’s not sure how just three words can be so simple but so terrifying. But the idea of losing Yaz again before she has the chance to say them and lay her heart on the line so clearly is even more terrifying. She doesn’t want Yasmin Khan to live in a world where she ever has to doubt how loved she is. “I love you, Yaz,” she says again, because it seems like a waste not to.
Yaz’s eyes gloss over with unshed tears. “I love you, too.”
It’s one thing to say the words, but another completely to hear them returned from the beautiful, incredible woman in front of her. The weight of it sinks in and she's thankful that she has two hearts, because one wouldn't be enough to contain it.
The Doctor isn’t sure that she’s ever felt so alive.
And, whatever happens next, she knows that feeling is enough to carry her through.