ashes ➝ Doctor Who²

XXXVII

"John Smith is dead, and you look like him."
- Joan, The Family of Blood

There had been an explosion in a far-off field, and it didn't take long for the scarecrows surrounding the school to collapse. The boys had instantly started cheering, some of them praising Penelope for her marksman skills.

They didn't even question the fact that a 'woman' knew how to shoot like she did, they were grateful that everyone was alive.

Some point after the explosion Martha and the Matron had turned up, both of them looking a little worse for wear. After instructing the boys to clean up the scarecrows in front of the school then immediately sleeping, she took the two women into the kitchen for a hot drink. And also getting them to explain what had happened.

They had both conveniently left out anything to do with John, and that had made her unbelievably nervous.

He might be coming back to her.

She had taken to sitting by the fire in John's room after pacing around for a good half hour, the man being a no-show. At some point she lost track of time, the room was dark besides the fireplace.

When he finally got back, greeted by Penelope sleeping in the chair by the fireside. There was an instant rush of guilt. It felt like he had ripped the love of her life away. How could he tell her that John wasn't ever going to come back, that all she had left was him? Just the Doctor. How could she be happy with that?

It doesn't matter that she told John, 'The Doctor was always enough', he knew she couldn't possibly have meant it. After all he had done, was there any chance she still loved him? He couldn't even fathom the idea that she might even remotely tolerate him.

He blamed her for Rose, kicked her out of the TARDIS. Left her in the arms of Torchwood. He felt so responsible for the way she had changed in the months without him. He couldn't verbally find a way to apologise, she didn't want to see him. Then when she finally looked at him without as much malice, he went and called her a murderer.

Honestly, he couldn't even believe that she had fallen for John, after all the man had his face. But he wouldn't have changed a single moment in the last few months. It was truly the happiest he had been since there were the three of them in the TARDIS. Rose, the Doctor and Penelope.

His Penelope.

He looked over at her, the guilt swelling up again, making it hard for his hearts to beat against his chest. Barely breathing, he finally walked out of the doorway, closing the door behind him. Trying his hardest to not wake the sleeping woman. Opening his cupboard, and taking out a blanket, he ran his left hand over it a few times. It shouldn't have to be a debate, whether or not he should cover her over.

Shaking himself out of that daze, he walked over to her sleeping figure, covering her up. But he paused when he realised she was holding his diary. John Smith's diary, the one for all his dreams. Where the Doctor crept into his subconscious to let him know he was still there, even if the man had no clue who he was. Pulling it carefully from her arms, he covered her completely with the blanket before going to sit at his desk.

Pulling the book open, he was instantly met with a picture of Penelope. The weight in his chest only seemed to double. If he remembered correctly, there were dozens of pages just for her, from each of their adventures together and just certain times he had dreamed of their small moments. Standing at her mother's grave, dancing at Reinette's party.

Flicking through them all, he came across one story that seemed to hit a nerve. The one with the werewolf, when they were married. He still had his ring, kept in the inside pocket of his coat. Even with all the anger he was left with after Rose, he couldn't ever get rid of it. No matter the number of times he tried to throw it into a burning star, it was a part of him. Like she had been at some point.

He had instantly noticed that she used that surname. McCrimmon. John Smith was nearly a McCrimmon this time round again, but he couldn't commit himself to it without a heavy feeling in his chest.

Maybe that meant there was still some kind of hope for them both. He didn't know how much longer he could go on, bumping into her and making it seem like it doesn't hurt as much as it does.

There was a rustle by the fireplace, and he looked up, Penelope had sat up. Confused and holding the blanket. He watched as she shook her head and then started looking round for - he presumed - John's diary.

"I've got it. Sorry about the blanket, I didn't want you to get cold." She stood up suddenly, still being watched by the man, a sadness behind his eyes at the hope in hers.

"John?"

"I'm sorry Penelope." She shook her head, turning to face the fire. He knew she was close to crying; she had changed again, but not that much. The time with John had brought back the pre-Doctor Doctor, and soon she would probably go back to whatever Torchwood made her.

"It's okay, I knew he wouldn't come back." She turned her back to him completely and he stood up as she started to walk towards the door.

"I'm sorry for everything else I've done.. as well. I don't know who I was, but that still isn't an excuse. I'm sorry for leaving you, blaming you and everything else. You didn't deserve any of that, and I will wait for you to forgive me. As long as it takes." She had stopped, which he didn't expect, and listened to everything he had to say.

She turned suddenly, whipping round to face him. A tear-stained face only made him feel worse than before. But he can commit to this, to her. And to wait for as long as she needed. It's all up to her now, and if he chose to hate for the next hundred years he would understand. But if not, he would be there when she wanted him once more.

"I don't know when I'll get over what you did, or over John. You could be waiting for a while, Doctor."

"I will wait for you, for long after the stars burn out of the sky. I can never apologise enough for what I did, but I hope you can forgive me anyway." She seemed conflicted, but eventually turned away to leave.

"Might see you around then."

"Stay safe." She left him alone once again. It was more than the two of them could bear, leaving the other behind after everything. But she isn't ready yet and he knows this, he won't push.

He will wait for her, for as long as she needs, it's the least he could do after everything he did.