Chapter Text
A few months later…
In total, the Doctor had managed to find fifty two chairs inside the Tardis. At least, fifty two that could be easily carried out into the house and crammed into his now small-seeming living room. There were probably more in the Tardis itself; they were never sure where they all came from. There were rickety wooden ones, blue plastic ones, some wicker ones, a few rocking chairs, and then two carved out of stone and crystal from the planet of Ter Aurum which turned purple if someone sat on them.
(Donna nearly vetoed the last two, but had to concede they were needed.)
Rose, Shaun, and Ace had spent most of yesterday helping him carry them out while Donna supervised. Now the chairs were shoved into every available corner and arranged around the five or so tables they had also dragged into the kitchen, each lined with plates and mugs pulled from the recesses of his cupboards.
That, combined with all the garland and tinsel he and Rose had thrown over everything meant his house was less a house and more like an antique shop that had been attacked by an army of elves.
The Doctor surveyed the chaos, standing in the doorway with a satisfied expression. Everything was ready.
“Have you finally finished?” Wilf asked, rolling up next to him.
“Nearly,” he said with a grin, “Now all we need is the food."
“You sure you’ve got enough chairs?” Donna said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m sure we could put some on the ceiling if you wanted.”
“I dunno who all is coming,” the Doctor said, feeling oddly defensive over his furniture, “Sides, can never have too many chairs.”
“Just how many people did you invite to this?”
“Anyone who wanted. Plus their families.”
Donna rolled her eyes, and facepalmed, “Oh Spaceman.”
“What?”
“Well human homes have a limit to how many people can fit in them you know.”
“I told you we should’ve had it in the Tardis.”
“Absolutely not!” The cry came from at least three different corners of the house, and he wasn’t sure if Ace, Donna, or Sylvia said it first. They fixed him with three almost identical glares.
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding?” Donna said, eyebrows raised so high he was worried they would fall off, “With our luck it’ll take off with everyone inside and then you’ll get fifty odd people stuck in 1867 Dubai or something.”
“That would-” they stopped. Considered. “That probably wouldn’t happen.”
“Probably is not good enough,” Donna said with finality, “Now we,” she said, pointing to herself, Ace, and Sylvia, “Are going to get the food. Do not burn down the house while we’re gone.”
They sighed, “Donna, why would I burn down the house.”
“See you say that and then next thing I know a Christmas tree has come to life and is trying to kill me.”
“Those weren’t my fault!”
“Don’t care. Us food. You sit.” Donna pointed to the couch.
The Doctor sat.
Donna gathered up her co-conspirators and left for next door. The ban on the Doctor in the kitchen had now expanded so that they were not allowed to turn on their stove at all, so the dinner had to be made at the Noble’s house two doors down. It was a completely ridiculous and unnecessary precaution. The fire hadn’t even been his fault last time.
They huffed and leaned back on their sofa. Wilf chuckled and rolled up beside them.
“You alright Doctor?” He asked with smile.
“Your granddaughter is a menace,” they informed him.
“Try raising her,” Wilf said, “Took ten years off my life that one.”
“Tell me about it,” the Doctor dragged a hand over their face. Donna, Mel, Tegan, and Ace all in the same house. Donna shouldn’t be worried about him in the kitchen, the combination of those four was enough to make any building spontaneously combust.
“I mean it though,” Wilf said, moving a bit closer, “Are you alright? An’ I don’t mean tonight. I mean all of it.”
He rolled his head to look at him, “All of it?”
“You and this house, stayin here, not going off on those adventures,” Wilf raised an eyebrow, “How are you, really?”
The Doctor looked away from Wilf’s kind eyes and to their mantle. They had crammed as many photos as they could onto it. (Him and Sarah Jane in some forest he couldn’t remember, arms locked around one another. Clara still dressed up from meeting Robin Hood. Bill and Nardole taking a selfie. Leela and K9 in an intense chess match. Tegan, Nyssa, and Adric smiling at the camera (well, mostly. Adric was poking Tegan and she was sticking her tongue out at him.) Rose, Donna, and Shuan at her school play. Photograph after photograph, and right in the center, Susan.
They had photos now. The snapshots of their life laid out in a line for anyone to see.
They had a fireplace to put them over and walls to hang them on.
They had a sofa, already stained with coffee and some paint from Rose’s art supplies.
Everyday they woke up in a bed, their bed. They got up and tried to do what any human would do. Tea. Eggs and toast. Walk around the neighborhood. Go into a shop. Read a book. Try to pet the stray cat that hung around his bin every night.
He did laundry. Vacuumed their floor. Washed dishes.
He sat in the garden and listened to the birds chirp and the insects hum and the plants sing to one another as they grew.
Some days were harder. Some days they never left the bed. Some days they couldn’t bear to get in it.
Some days he sat and stared at the wall until the light changed and Donna brought them back with a hand on his shoulder and cup of tea.
Some days they felt like clawing at their skin, trapped by the walls and the photographs and the mugs and the utter stillness of it all. They paced around the house, took apart every appliance and built it back again. Went into the Tardis and lost themselves in the work until they felt like they could breathe again. Some days he put their hands on the controls, the lever that with one pull would send them off into the universe, where they could run forever and never touch the ground.
But they never did.
Because most days Donna came over for tea. Most days Rose would rush in after school, throwing her bag on the couch and begging for help with her chemistry homework. Shuan would invite them over to watch the football game. Sylvia would ask them to fix her computer. And Wilf was there with a cup of tea and a telescope on a hill.
They would put a hand on the lever, and remember that Ace was meeting them for dinner in three days. Ian and Barbara wanted him to meet their grandchildren. Mel wanted him to try her new brownie recipe.
And they took their hand off the lever, and went back inside.
They sat on their couch, making a new watch for Wilf or a sonic paintbrush for Rose or a new kettle for Sylvia. They went to sleep. They woke up. They lived each day.
It was slow. It was torture. It was beautiful.
“I’m good,” they said, finally, “I’m good.”
Wilf smiled up at him and gave a satisfied nod, “For once son, I think I believe you.”
He smiled, “I think I do too.”
“You’ve done good here, with all of them,” Wilf said, nodding at the photographs, “When you left Donna was always… well she could tell she lost somethin’, even if she couldn’t remember what it was. She’d get this look in her eye sometimes and you’d just know. Course she was happy, built a family, but she was never the same Doctor. And since you’ve been back I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happier. And Rose loves you. And those two there, Mel and Ace, all these friends of yours coming over. You’re making something good. You are.”
Wilf reached over and placed his hand on top of the Doctors, “And I couldn’t be more proud.”
The Doctor sniffed, “Wilfred Mott. You always know what to say don’t you.”
“Come on, best get ready. They’ll be back soon enough.”
Over the next thirty minutes the volume in their house increased steadily. First it was the other arriving with the food. Then it was Shaun vacuuming his hallway. Then it was the doorbell (“Oh that’ll be Nyssa and Tegan. Told them to get here early.” “You hate me that much?” “Oh hush you.”)
Next the Doctor knew he looked up to a full house.
They had arrived in pairs and in groups. Nyssa and Tegan. Ian and Barbara. Ben, Polly, and Dodo. Liz with her wife in tow, along with Yates and Benton.
Their house was full.
Their house, on the end of the street, with picture frames on every wall, knitted blankets on a purple sofa, and a new vegetable garden out back. Stationary. Normal. Human.
Jo came in and greeted them with a hug, before throwing herself at John and Mike. Mel moved through the room with a smile, hand in hand with Ace. Wilf sat beside Ian in the middle of a heated discussion about aircraft in the second war.
Their house was full.
Every adventure, every life, every moment blurred before their eyes. People kept walking up to him, with greetings, stories, love. Face after face that he knew.
“Hey Professor, where are your spoons?” Ace called from the kitchen.
“Second cabinet from the left.”
“Ta.”
“Why do you call him Professor?” Donna asked.
“Cause he looks like one?”
“He does?”
“He used to.”
It was too much. They glanced at Donna and pointed their head towards the backdoor. Donna softened and nodded. Just a moment. He just needed a moment.
The sun hadn’t set yet, but a golden glow crept across the garden, filtering through the trees and covering him in dappled light. He took a breath. In a few months Rose and Sylvia were going to help him start a garden back here. Jo had already volunteered some cuttings from her plants. He was going to bring some saplings from the Tardis gardens too. He had a flower from Traken that Nyssa was going to love.
For now the garden sat sleeping under a thin layer of snow.
“Oh, hey Doc.”
He nearly leapt out of his skin. “Ryan?”
“Sorry, thought you saw me,” Ryan grinned from his spot on the ground, leaning against the back step.
The Doctor frowned and sat down beside him, groaning slightly. This body’s knees were a bit weaker than the last, “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, “Just a bit much in there. Needed a mo’”
“Too crowded?”
“Too much attention,” Ryan groaned, “It’s like having fifty aunts and uncles. They keep pinching my cheeks and giving me candies.”
The Doctor stifled a laugh, “Good people though.”
“Yeah, good people.”
The Doctor hummed in acknowledgement, leaning back. Two birds flitted through the sky. A snowflake drifted down to the steps. Inside Donna yelled at someone to get away from the food. The Earth moved.
“Nice place you have here,” Ryan said, nodding back at the house.
“You think so?”
Ryan nodded, “But honestly? Still can hardly believe you’re actually settling down.”
“Me neither,” they admitted, rubbing their knuckles, “
Ryan glanced at him, hesitating, “Can I ask you somethin?”
“Course.”
“You remember that last battle? The one with the Daleks?”
They blinked, a thousand instances of laser fire and screaming running through their head, “Which one?”
“Right before me and Graham… left.”
“Ah, that one,” they nodded. “I suppose I do, yes.”
“Did you ever find those answers?” Ryan asked, voice careful like he had rehearsed it. “Cause you said you know, you didn’t know who you were anymore. Do you now?”
The Doctor was silent for a moment.
“I’m not sure,” they admitted, “I got my answers, in a manner of speaking. They just… weren’t what I wanted to find.”
“What did you find?” Another voice asked from behind them. Yaz. She sat down next to them with a soft smile.
“More than I thought I would,” they admitted, “But somehow I know less than I did before.”
“Well that’s just how life goes isn’t it,” Graham said, because of course he was here too. He sat down and then they were all in a line, together at last.
“My fam,” he said with a smile.
“Sounds a bit different in this voice,” Graham said.
"Too different?" he asked.
"Nah," Yaz said, "We can make it work."
Yaz on one side, Ryan on the other, and Graham behind him. Just like old times. Only now inside there were thirty some other people from the old times as well. They understood sometimes why humanity lived in a line. It was simpler. But it also meant that things could catch up with you.
Then again, they thought, as Yaz hesitantly moved her hand closer to their own, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
“I don’t know how old I am,” they found themselves saying, “I mean, not that I really knew to begin with. I sort of lost track in the two thousand range, but I thought I had a guess. Turns out I lived lives I didn’t even know about. So many faces and names that are just- gone.”
“How many?” Yaz asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” They looked down at their boots sitting on top of the snow.
Ryan’s voice came from beside them. “Is there a way to get those memories back?”
“I don’t want them,” he said quickly, “I-”
He took a breath, steadying himself against the stone. Yaz’s hand was warm on his back.
“I never set out to be important,” they said instead, switching tracks, “When I left Gallifrey. I didn’t mean to adventure or save people. I just wanted to explore. Just to see what was out there. I didn’t- It wasn’t planned. And meeting people, Ian and Barbara, all of you, it just happened.”
“Okay…” Yaz said. She was frowning at him. She looked concerned. He realized was rambling again.
“I’ve just been thinking,” he said, “A lot. And I think- I know that who I was before isn’t who I am now. And really it doesn’t matter. My choices, who I choose to be, that’s what matters. Whoever that other person was- they’re someone else. And I’m the same as I’ve always been. Sort of. Sorry,” they tried for a sheepish grin, “I know that probably doesn’t make much sense.”
“Makes about as much sense as anything you say,” Ryan said, wincing when Yaz elbowed him.
“It makes sense Doc,” Graham assured him. “An’ look, forgotten lives or not, you’re still our Doctor. You’re still our friend.”
“I know that,” he said, “Just hard to believe it I suppose.”
“Well that’s what we’re here for,” Yaz said, nudging their shoulder, “To remind you.”
“Suppose so.”
“Suppose? I know it.”
“An she knows everythin’ Doc so you best just listen,” Graham added with a firm nod.
“Oh hush you.”
“There’s more,” the Doctor said, feeling the need to tell them, “There’s so much more that happened.”
“We know,” Yaz said, moving her hand to his arm, “You’ll tell us, eventually.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world Mate,” Graham added.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
The Doctor nodded at Ryan, but kept his eyes on Yaz. She was still staring at them, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“What is it? Something on my face?”
“Just remembering,” Yaz said, “We’re a long way from the beach.”
“That we are,” the Doctor said, ignoring Graham and Yaz’s odd looks. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Nah,” Yaz said, “Just different.”
“Hey Sheffield are yo- oh you’re all out here.”
“Hi Dan,” they chorused as Dan hopped down on Yaz’s other side.
“Party’s out here now is it?”
“Not for much longer I hope, It’s bloody freezing.”
“Well you’re welcome to go inside grandad.”
“And leave you lot unsupervised? You’re bound to blow up the moon.”
“Hey!”
“No that’s fair.”
“My fam,” the Doctor smiled, “Plus Dan. Dan and the Fam? Fam and Dan?”
“Sounds like a band name.”
“Yeah a bad one.”
"You're a bad band name."
"Your face is a bad band name."
"That doesn't even make sense you moron."
Eventually the cold was too much and they went inside. (“My hands are turning blue!” “Sounds like a personal problem, Ryan.”)
“Wondering where you got off to,” Ace said, bumping into him, “Food’s nearly ready.”
“Does Donna need any help?” Yaz asked.
“Dunno. She kicked me out of the kitchen,” Ace muttered. “Broke a plate.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, “And what were you doing when you broke the plate?”
“....Trying to show Mel that juggling trick you taught me.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Aw don’t start- It was going well until Tegan shoved me!”
“I did not shove you for heaven’s sake! I was getting the silverware!”
“Behave you lot," Dan yelled from across the room.
“Oh hush you.”
They settled down, and Ace gave the Doctor a sheepish grin, “So yeah, not allowed in the kitchen anymore.”
“Like father like daughter,” the Doctor said lightly. Ace froze. “Right?”
“Yeah,” she said, smile spreading across her face, “Right.”
Humans marked the time in days and months and years. Their calendars were contained to tiny squares in boxes and rows, each with a number in the corner. They had planners and clocks, timers and stopwatches. A long way from the sundial, but still so simple.
But it was how their brains made sense of the world. It gave the chaos of the strands of time an order. There was a beauty to it, in the same way there was a beauty to a child’s drawing of a stick figure house.
Each year the same events, the same holidays. Each day the same rituals at morning, noon, and night.
Time Lords didn't view time the same way, of course. It was far more complex than that. Half of them didn't even bother keeping track of birth dates or years. He didn’t know how old he was. There was no way to count. Time was happening, already happened, will happen. The Universe was an incredible vast and complex thing, beyond even his understanding.
But now he stood in his house, the holidays around the corner, food on the table and surrounded by friends. If all went well, next year this would happen again. A strange thought.
He tapped on his glass, the ringing note doing nothing against the din of the crowd. Donna rolled her eyes next to him and stood up from her seat, “All right you lot shut it!”
The table got quiet. All eyes turned to him. They gulped.
“Yes thank you Donna,” he said, standing up, “Um. I’d like to make a toast.”
He raised his glass into the air. He blinked. Words were supposed to come next, weren’t they?
He looked at Yaz, a few seats down, and she nodded. Past her Ace gave him a thumbs up. Ian and Barbara smiled. They took a breath.
“When I met Donna again,” he said, nodding at her, “She asked me why I still had this face. Why it came back. Which, fair enough. But I didn’t know why. I thought it was some glitch in regeneration, or just a coincidence, but I’m not sure that’s true.
“This face was never good at saying what I meant. I’ve never been at saying things out loud. Talk all the time me, but saying some things are harder. And I tried… And I got better for awhile, but then I got so much worse.” He chanced a glance at Yaz. She sat there quietly, but in her eyes he saw his own emotions reflected.
“I think… I think this face is a promise.” They said, looking at her before tearing his eyes away. “To do better. To say things before it’s too late.”
He opened his mouth again and faltered, fingers slipping on the glass. There was a touch to his other hand- Donna steadying him as always.
“And what does this face have to say?”
“I love you,” they said, surprising themselves, “All of you. You are my best friends and my family. And I’m really happy I’m here.”
Donna smiled at him, and for a moment he was a thousand years younger holding her in his arms, wishing he didn’t have to say goodbye. And now he didn’t. He looked up, feeling his face turning bright red, “Um. That’s all. Happy Christmas.”
He sat down as the noise rushed over him. People clapping, cheering, followed by cries of “dig in!” and the meal beginning. Across the table Yaz smiled at him, tears in her eyes.
Rose passed him the rolls. Ian asked him for the salt. He could barely move their elbows without knocking into someone and the first bite he took burned his tongue. Tegan was laughing at something Nyssa said. Ace was throwing chips into Ryan’s mouth. Jo and Mel were listening enraptured to Dr. Shaw’s explanation of alien flora. Ian and Barbara sat at the end, holding hands. Dodo, Ben, Polly, Victoria, Yates, Benton- the list went on and on.
The Doctor sat in the middle of it all, and watched.
“Look at you,” Donna said, leaning into his side, “What did I say hm? Biggest family in the world.”
“Thank you,” they said, turning and putting an arm around her, “For convincing me to stay.”
“Of course Spaceman,” Donna said, “Welcome home.”