Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Human Nature

A knock on the door rouses me from my sleep. "You've got to come out at some point."

"Have I, though?"

My face hides under the covers again. I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of the trench coat that engulfs me. One hand hides deep in the pockets and fidgets with the jumble of knick-knacks and gadgets inside, far more than should logically fit in one pocket. The other rests on the pillow beside me, a gold ring beaming cruelly back at me.

Another knock. "Inara, please. I mean it."

Maybe if I wait long enough, she'll go away.

"I'm not going away, so you can give up whatever cunning plan you have. I'm serious. I will open this door one way or another, so help me—"

In the space of her words, I have reluctantly forced myself to my feet, trudging across my room to open the door. Martha waits for me, arms crossed. Her usual clothes have been replaced by a long, black dress and white apron. She smiles, the kind that fails to hide all of her built-up concern.

Then she sees the coat. "Inara..."

"Don't. I don't care what you say, I'm not getting a job at that awful school and I'm not seeing him. I've forgiven the Doctor, doesn't mean I ever want to see his face again. Staring stupidly back at me. Not even knowing who I am, who he was."

Her glare softens and she raises her hands as if in surrender. "Okay. I really am sorry, though. This isn't fair on you. But it'll be over soon. Just—"

"Three months to go?"

That's nothing compared to how long I waited last time. I just don't see why this has to hurt even more. Although I suppose having a whole universe separating you is likely easier than knowing you could walk fifteen minutes to see someone with the face of your...

Whatever he is to me now. I don't even know.

I head back to the bed and slump into it. Martha takes more time. Her eyes travel over the length of the room, over the shrine and my loom and all of the bookshelves. A new kind of smile takes over, far warmer and void of the pity that was there before. "I'm sorry for what I said before. I know it's easier to stay in the Tardis where everything's familiar... I just— I can't. Not when he's not here. It feels... wrong."

"I know," I practically whisper.

Sighing, she falls next to me. "I did mean some of it, though. You can't stay here on your own, it'll tear you apart. The village is nice — for England in 1913, that is. I'm sure you could find something here for the time being, find a house and make some friends. You've got a lot to offer."

I nod. It doesn't convince me.

Feeling the familiar sting in my eyes, I blink my tears away and roll onto my side to face her. "I've lost him before, you know. Really lost him, I mean."

A glimmer of panic crosses her eyes. "How d'you mean, 'lost'?"

"A while ago, something went wrong with the Tardis and we crash-landed in another universe — one parallel to ours."