Mother, Gaia (A Thasmin Fanfiction)

Chapter 8-- All of the Love

The Universe by Gregory Alan Isakov (Thirteenth Doctor's Theme)

The TARDIS is quieter than usual. Yaz walks down the golden corridors, walls patterned in the same way as the console room. Soft light ignites the path, but she can hardly push herself forward. Ryan had excused her for the day a few minutes prior. Aiding the rangers becomes more tiring with each shift that comes and goes, but there is always hope for the next recon ship to arrive. The refugees hold comfort in the sky, but Yaz and her friends find comfort in the old blue box and its maze of infinite hallways. Yaz's room isn't far, only a few yards ahead and to the right. Soon, she'll snuggle under the covers of her bed, letting her heavy eyelids fall at last.

Yaz stops at the end of the hall. A white metal door sits ahead of her, like the front door to a hospital room. The TARDIS rearranged itself a bit once they put the recovering time lord in her care. The medical bay sits where the Doctor's room used to be, close to the rooms of the three humans. It's only been 48 hours since she was injected with the serum, but the nurse insisted that rest under the TARDIS's supervision was the best thing for her. Yaz doesn't dare approach the door, for fear of disturbing the time lord. Yaz presses her hand against the cold metal. There's an inner warmth in her chest, knowing that the Doctor is on the other side. Alive. A deep sigh escapes the human girl, and she turns towards her room. She puts the medical bay behind her as she heads further into the ship, navigating an impossible maze of corridors that feel all too familiar.

A deep blue door stands out in the never-ending passage. The boys' rooms sit on the opposite end of the hall of hers. Two mahogany doors mark their entrances, but Yaz's door is replaced by blue. She approaches her new door, pressing her fingers against the splintered wood. Blue paint is stripped off in some places, especially around the fading silver doorknob. Flecks of paint fall onto the metal floor, and there's an indignant wheeze from the TARDIS. She can't help but laugh. She could make a long list of that old box's quirks—moving her bedroom would be the least significant of the bunch. Yaz has to shimmy the silver doorknob before it opens with a click that echoes down the hallway. She sucks in her breath, aware of the Doctor's presence only a few doors down.

Yaz lets out a gasp, nearly a whisper. She shuts the door behind her, letting it groan before slamming shut. The TARDIS's usual hum fades as the door shuts her away from the rest of the ship. Her eyes trail across the ceiling, following the projections of distant stars. They seem to swirl together in a fluid motion, swinging about the room. Yaz ducks her head as an asteroid hurtles past her, only about the size of her fist. It rakes across her shoulder, passing through as if it were a ghost. The room is silent, a sort of deafening silence that Yaz has only felt when standing in front of the TARDIS doors, watching the universe float by. One planet sits in the center of it all, like a watchful eye observing her from a distance. It burns red, shining a harsh light down on the little room. It almost looks like Mars, but far larger—it's covered in dark clouds, flashing sparks of brilliant orange from what Yaz can guess are thunderstorms. Warmth emanates from the planet, and Yaz suppresses the urge to take off her leather jacket. She finds herself giggling, hearing her laughter bounce off the walls of the tiny space. In all her time exploring the TARDIS, she has never found a room this wonderful.

Yaz wanders along the side of the closest wall, letting the bindings of books brush against her fingertips. The whole room is lined with shelves like the ones in the TARDIS library; an old spruce grain, though these ones are covered in dust. Tattered journals fill shelves to the brim along the walls, with books scattered across tables and tossed on the floor. Photographs fill the walls—most of them polaroids, some digital, some with faces that flash holographic smiles. A few old paintings dot the higher portions of the wall, near the holographic galaxy. One depicts a young brunette woman, holding a sort of Mona Lisa smile. Yaz reaches up to pull a polaroid off the wall, studying it under the glowing red light. It's an old family photo, a group of four standing against the backdrop of an old village of some sort. She first notices a woman with a mess of curly hair, standing against a group of three more people. Yaz recognizes the bright red fez atop one of the men—it's identical to the one that Kerblam! sent to the Doctor only a month or so ago. He wears a warm smile and a bowtie to match. A ginger-haired girl stands between the two men, laughing at some joke that Yaz missed. She smiles at that, putting the picture back where it belonged.