Vairë walked back into the TARDIS. She was tired. So, so tired. This last adventure had been worse than anything she’d ever dreamed. True, the planet Balacross was saved. But so many had died. So many she’d held in her arms as their life forces departed them. So many she’d whispered those words to, the words that promised that she would see them again in the Undying Lands. The Lands in which she scarcely dare believed.
How long had it been since she’d left Martha? Since she’d begun to come to terms with the fact that she was no longer human? How long since she had begun to watch herself for the signs that she was twisting into some kind of monstrosity? A century? Two? Three? Honestly, she’d lost count of the years. Ever since she had left Martha, Vairë had been on a spree. She’d fought in wars. She’d freed slaves. She’d overthrown governments. She’d reunited lost loves. She’d found the lost. Her name was splayed across the stars in songs and tales.
And yet, she felt so alone. She’d stopped and rested a few times. She’d watched others grow old, wither, and die in front of her. She’d attended more funerals than she cared to remember. But every day, when she looked in the mirror a woman of twenty stared back at her. Some mornings, it was enough to make her scream and shatter the mirror with her fist. She was so, so tired. She tried to remember the last time she’d bothered to keep track of her age. She’d quit keeping track of the years sometime after her four-hundredth birthday. Most women started freaking out when they hit twenty-nine. Vairë held the panic off until she hit four hundred.
Every day, she checked her phone, hoping for a message that would call her back to Earth. But, relative to her time in the past and future, Martha had only been away from her for a few months. Relative to her, the Doctor had only been gone four years. Once she was clear of Balacross, Vairë began scanning the Vortex for the next bit of trouble she could get into.
She paused for a moment. When had she begun to be able to sense time lines? When had she first felt the difference between a fixed point and a point in flux? When had she stopped seeing individuals first and instead seeing their effects on the space-time continuum before she registered their faces? She shook her head. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember what it was like to be blind to someone’s point in time. What it was like not to be able to recall exactly when and where she was. Not to be able to sense the emotions of those around her and get a good idea of what they were planning. To be unable to touch someone and delve into their mind.
She’d forgotten what it was to be a simple human being. And realizing that, she was terrified. The words swarmed over her again and again. Memories crashed against her. She shuddered and convulsed, crashing to the metal grillwork floor in the TARDIS’s console room as they battered at her. The stronger her empathy and telepathy became, the more at the mercy of her own memories she was.
The Doctor was gone. He had left her. He was in France with her. He was better off with Reinette. Better off with a woman who’d learned the art of love from the French court and the King of France. Reinette knew how to please a man. Vairë could only offer him lessons beaten into her by a fellow chav. She was a used-up broken down whore who would never be worthy of…
She shuddered as she tried to bring herself out of her past and into the present. Four centuries ago, that had been, but she still felt the pain of it lancing through her mind, body, and soul. “Stop that,” she told herself. “Mum and Mickey told me it wasn’t my fault. They told me that men were supposed to have more control. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault,” she groaned, trying to convince herself of the truth of those words. But here, without Mickey and her mother to stop them, the feelings of guilt and shame washed over her. Jimmy. Her first love. She’d been fifteen. She’d been singing at a karaoke club. Shireen had been with her. Jimmy walked up to her as she was leaving to head home. He’d told her that he had a band and they were looking for a singer. That she had talent and promise. That if she would just come with him, he would make all her dreams come true.
And for two weeks, he had. She’d dropped out of school. She’d gone off with him. She’d fought with her mum and Mickey. For two weeks, she’d thought she was living her dream, singing in dingy lounges and bars. Then, Jimmy had taken her. He’d told her that it was her fault he’d lost control. That if she hadn’t been wearing that skirt, he wouldn’t have been so rough. But that she belonged to him now. That no other man would have her. That she was ruined. That wasn’t the last time she’d felt his fists on her. Whenever an agent expressed interest in her but not in him, Jimmy had made her pay for it.
Finally, he’d gotten so carried away with beating her that she’d nearly died. He’d been scared, then. He’d left her to die in an alley. Some passer-by had found her and called for an ambulance. She’d woken up, days later, with her mum holding her hand and begging her not to die. Eventually, she’d returned to the Powell Estates. Mickey had looked after her and, in time, she’d begun to date him. Mickey was safe. He would never hit her. He would never take her if she said no. She thought she’d prefer safety to love.
Then she’d met the Doctor. She’d seen him gaze at her as if she were water just out of reach. She’d felt that thrill in her heart. She’d seen him brought nearly to tears at the thought of losing her. She’d seen him send her away to safety so that he might die knowing she lived on.
And then he’d changed. He’d become younger. Sexier. She’d loved him from the moment he’d opened the TARDIS doors and gazed at her saying “Did you miss me?” And she had. She had missed him. The whole time she’d feared that the Doctor was gone, she’d longed for him. And then he was there, facing down the Sycorax. Losing his hand. Growing a new one. Using a satsuma to send the Sycorax leader plummeting down to Earth when the beaten alien tried to attack the Doctor from behind after being given his life back. Then entering her mother’s flat. Making peace with Jackie. Celebrating Christmas and New Year’s with them without a single complaint. Or rather, without too many complaints.
Mickey might have hated him but Vairë knew he was the Doctor. And that she loved him. That she wanted him. That she wished she could be worthy of him.
Then had come Reinette.
In the TARDIS, the memories crashing against her, Vairë screamed. Her sister was trying to break through the psychic storm to send her waves of comfort and peace. Or, at the very least, to knock her out so that it wouldn’t hurt so much. In the years, decades, and centuries since leaving Martha behind, the psychic storms had grown stronger. The TARDIS was beginning to realize that only one person could stop them. Only one person could say the words that would shatter the storm stalking her wolf, her sister, her friend, and her other self. And that person…that man was the one man both women were terrified of seeing again.
Only the Doctor could heal Vairë. But returning to him was impossible.
In time, the storm abated. Vairë laid, her face pressed against the grillwork floor, sobbing wearily. It would be hours before she had the strength to get back on her feet. It would be days before she had the stamina to do more than sleep. Each time she was struck by the storm, it weakened her further. Each time, it took longer for her to get back to normal. Part of it was the neurochemistry involved in such telepathic and empathic attacks. But the most of it was that Vairë was tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of not having anyone to hold her hand. To hug her. To remind her that she was wonderful. To say anything good about her that she could believe. Sure, she’d heard plenty of flowery compliments from people she’d saved. But she discounted those. None of those people knew her. None of them had seen her at her darkest, at her weakest, at her worst. They were practically strangers to Vairë. She’d only done what was necessary – what was expected of her. Why should she be rewarded for doing the right thing?
But perhaps…perhaps there was one person Vairë could believe in. One person who could stave off the inevitable. One person who could set her on the path towards healing. But there was a danger in going there. Her life and death were fixed points in Vairë’s time line. And Vairë had already tried to alter that which must never be altered. The TARDIS thought it over. That had been centuries ago. That had been before Vairë had looked into her own heart and given the ship the opportunity to look into hers. That had been before the two became so intertwined that it was difficult for the eleven dimensional creature to remember what it felt like not to have these dreams, these thoughts, these hopes, these emotions running through her.
While Vairë wept, Maggie took them into the Vortex and began searching for someone other than the Doctor who might be able to make her sister whole again. Someone who could calm the storm. Someone who could make Vairë see just how far she had come. How many wonderful things she had done. Someone who could get the woman to see something other than the blood on her hands and the faces of those she’d been unable to save.
And someone who wouldn’t kill the TARDIS for saving her sister’s life by giving her some of her own.
~*~*~*~
“I’m tired,” Vairë sighed as she made her way back to the console. She’d slept for almost three days after that last psychic attack. “I could use a vacation. Someplace nice. With lots and lots of alcohol. The good stuff, too. Actually, maybe I should just synthesize 100% pure ethanol and drink that. I metabolize things too quickly now. Been ages since I got right and proper ‘quit tilting the floor on me you git’ drunk.”
You need help, Vairë. You can’t keep riding out those psychic storms. The stronger your telepathic senses grow, the stronger the storms will become. If you don’t get help, you’ll rip your own mind apart.
“Well, it’s not like I can just schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist,” Vairë groaned as she settled down on the jump seat. “I could just see that happening. ‘Hello, my name is Vairë Carter. I’m not sure what species I am. Matter of fact, my DNA has a triple helix and I’ve grown a few extra chromosomes. I get psychic attacks because I’m an untrained telepath. Apparently, my own mind is trying to drive me crazy.’ Yeah,” she grimaced, “that would go over well. Do you remember what happened when I tried to explain it back on New Earth? Took me hours to get out of that lock-up. I think they still have a warrant out for me.”
Maybe there’s a friend you could talk to. Other than me. Someone you trust to tell you the truth no matter what.
“Not really, no,” Vairë sighed. “Most of my mates back in London would never understand even if I brought them in here and showed them the truth. And, they weren’t the best influence on me even back then. I could talk to Mickey or Mum but they’re gone. Keisha and Shireen wouldn’t get it. And, other than them, I didn’t really have too many friends. Not ones I trusted, I mean. I had mates I’d go down to the pub and club with but they weren’t the kind I’d loan my shoes to if you catch my drift.”
What about…what about Maggie? The real Maggie?
“Maggie?” Vairë said, blowing out a gust of air. “Yeah, she’d always tell me the truth straight up. She didn’t sugarcoat things much. The few times I acted an arse around her, she set me down hard. And she was the one who told me that she was going to hunt Jimmy Stone down and shoot him and Her Majesty’s government be damned because no jury on Earth would convict. But we can’t go back and see her. I’d be too tempted to save her and we both know what happened the last time I stopped someone from dying. The Doctor got eaten by a Reaper.”
It wouldn’t be easy, no, the TARDIS agreed, but I think you have the strength to do it. And I think seeing Maggie and talking to her would be of help to you. I can’t think of anything else to do, sister. The Time Lords might have been able to treat you but there’s only the Doctor left and…
“And we’re not going to get close to him because he’ll kill you for saving my life and because, frankly, I don’t want to deal with him and Reinette,” Vairë nodded. “Fine, I’ll risk seeing Maggie. But I want some serious, seriously strong alcohol waiting here for me when I get back. I mean something that will get me good and smashed before I even swallow it. Because leaving her to die…that’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do.”