Fight For Freedom |4| The Ascension

Chapter Forty Three: Welcome Back

Deep in the darkest depths of the night, one McKenzie Di Angelo found herself incapable of sleep. Maybe it was because she'd slept so much after her death, or maybe it was because she'd done little more than worry about Amy and Rory the day before, but she just simply wasn't tired. At first, she'd resigned herself to just lying there in the darkness, watching her husband sleep. After all, he'd done it hundreds of times before, how hard could it be?

As it turned out, very hard. First of all, she found it got pretty hot snuggling under the covers with a sleeping Time Lord, yet it was unbearably cold without the duvet. Add that to the eventual boredom and inevitable hunger and the idea was pretty much doomed from the start. As much as she liked seeing him so peaceful, tonight she found it impossible to lie still.

So here she was, sitting in the lower level of the console room, surrounded by tools and bits of metal—more specifically, bits of her old visor. Though the outer casing had shattered in the journey to the Flesh Monastery, as she had taken to calling it, the inner workings were mostly undamaged, and she had a plan for it. It was time to put that engineering degree to good use.

That was what she was doing, or at least attempting to do, when Amy found her later that night. The ginger was wearing a fluffy dressing gown and slippers, cradling a cup of hot cocoa. "You too, huh?" She made her way down to sit with McKenzie, carefully tiptoeing around the bowl of fish custard.

"Slept enough when I was dead, I guess," the blonde shrugged. "You?"

Amy chuckled. "Guilty conscience."

"Oh, that old demon," McKenzie sighed. "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," Amy admitted. After a moment, she put a hand on the other woman's arm. "I am glad you're alive, you know?"

McKenzie blinked. "Um... okay? Thanks?"

"It's just I know that the other me, the older me, I mean, she said some things I'm not proud of," Amy explained.

"Ah, yes," McKenzie remembered. "What was it she called me? Ms-Why-Can't-You-Just-Stay-Dead-Already?"

Amy flushed with embarrassment. "Something like that."

McKenzie shrugged. "Ah, don't worry about it. I've had worse."

But Amy persisted. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "Really, I'm so, so, sorry. For everything, not just this. I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry my daughter killed you, I'm sorry I didn't realise Zoë was an amputee, I'm sorry I kissed your husband, I'm just sorry!"

The older woman put her work down, raising her eyebrows. "Wow. You realise some of those things weren't your fault, right?"

Amy nodded. "But some of them were, and some of them were so, so terrible, and I wish I'd never done them."

"Fair enough," McKenzie allowed. "But you know it's Kas you gotta talk to about that last one."

"I'm sorry," Amy repeated.

McKenzie sighed. "I know." She bit her lip, remembering that day. "I was so angry. If you hadn't have backed down, I don't know what I would've done. Something I'd regret, probably. He was so scared though... I mean, I'd seen him afraid before, so, so afraid, but he always seemed so strong at the same time. He was this incredible, amazing man who could stand up to half a billion Daleks without a care in the world for his own safety. Fighting monsters, saving people, he always knew how to do that. But someone falling in love with him? That never occurred to him. I guess he got used to me, being together so long, and it never ever occurred to him that there were other people in the universe with as good a taste as mine." She shook her head, smiling fondly. "He always tries to see the good in people, always. I don't think the idea had ever crossed his mind that someone might try to—" she faltered. "You know what I mean."

Amy nodded gravely. "How did he escape?"

"Hmm?"

"The Daleks. You said, half a billion Daleks."

"Oh," McKenzie understood. "Oh, that was my fault, actually. He was trapped in the year 200,100, with no TARDIS, no defences, no weapons worth a damn. He'd sent me and Rose home, to our own time, to keep us safe. And I guess I loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone else, even back then, and I wasn't prepared to let him go, let him die. So we went back. Cracked open the TARDIS console, looked into the heart of the TARDIS." The ship hummed around them contentedly. "I took the Time Vortex into my head so I could control this thing, take her back to 200,100, back to save him. Except it was more powerful than I could have conceived. I saw all of time and space rushing through my head like a tidal wave. I got him back, killed half a million Daleks with the flick of my wrist, but it was too strong. My neurons were burning up, my DNA unravelling. It felt like everything I was, everything I knew, was dissolving into atoms and I was powerless to stop it. The most powerful creature in the universe and I couldn't save myself."

"He saved you," Amy guessed.

"And he never stopped saving me," McKenzie agreed. "Just remember, our boys are good men. Brilliant men. They deserve the best we can give them. We can tell them we love them all the livelong day, but it's what we do that counts. They deserve all the love in the world."

"You're right," Amy agreed, smiling. "Tell you what, I'm going to do that. Right now." She stood up, running from the console room towards the bedrooms.

McKenzie smiled. "He's a lucky boy."

***

A little while later, the Doctor stirred to find McKenzie sitting up in bed by his side, eating fish custard. "You brought snacks?"

She glanced down at him and smiled, totally unaware of the custard on her cheek. "I figured you couldn't sleep that much longer." She offered him a second bowl. "Brekkie?"

"You're an angel," he told her as he sat up, accepting the bowl gratefully.

"Mmm. People keep saying that." She smiled at him, then stifled a giggle.

He blinked. "What?"

"Your hair's sticking up all funny," she told him, laughing as she sorted it out for him. "There. Perfect."

"Hmm," he sighed contentedly, leaning into her touch. "What would I do without you?"

She snorted. "Well, you'd have to get your own midnight snacks, for starters."

"Unthinkable."

She looked down at her bowl. "Speaking of, didn't I have only one fish finger left a second ago?"

He raised his eyebrows innocently. "I hadn't noticed."

She rolled her eyes fondly. "Oh, you."

"I did notice the custard on your cheek though," he mentioned absently.

"What?" She licked around her mouth. "Gone?"

"No, it's just... just there." He wiped it away with his thumb, turning the action into a caress. "Gone."

She flashed a smile, her face still cradled in his hand. "Thanks, love."

"Anytime."