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When the TARDIS spit him out in America, in 2020, the Doctor had half a mind to argue with her. She was his time machine and space ship, he'd stolen her fair and square, after all. It wasn't too much to ask to be allowed inside. And away from where and when he was stuck.
2020 had been a painfully boring year, even in America where social distancing was a joke and the response to the global pandemic was being led by a team of Slitheen (a situation that, for once, was not his problem to deal with). Unfortunately the virus was strong enough that it could even target alien biologies, and so it had been a rather quiet year in terms of the things that got his blood running.
Standing alone in the middle of a deserted street in the immediate aftermath of his entire life and world falling apart did not sound like a good time to him. But the TARDIS needed to redecorate and recalibrate, and she seemed to be under the impression that he needed some time to meditate. Which was nonsense, hence his determination to get back in and be anywhere else.
Except.
He was not, in fact, alone on a deserted street.
He heard her before he saw her, and hundreds of years of doing what he did and being what he was meant that he quickly tuned into the sound of panic in her voice (a nice voice, pleasantly low and beautiful, even in distress).
"I understand, but there's no way I can be home before next week. She can't be left alone!"
It didn't seem like the person on the other end of the call felt like that was a particularly compelling argument, given the way the girl stared blankly at her phone screen before shoving it back into her bag. When she looked back up, she seemed surprised to see him there, staring back at her, and he took that moment to remember that he had no idea what he looked like now. His hair had started to flop over into his face, but it wasn't quite long enough to get an idea of the color.
"Are you alright — ooh bit of Appalachian on this one, huh?" He asked, startled at the sound of his new voice.
"I — yes, sorry. I'm fine!"
She stayed six feet away and eyed him warily, and after a moment he realized that unlike her, he wasn't wearing one of the masks that had become ubiquitous that year. He glanced down at the garish backpack that the TARDIS had helpfully ejected out after him (to help? or to get rid of? he wasn't entirely sure) and dug around until he triumphantly pulled out a proper N95 before slinging the bag over one shoulder.
He looked over at the blonde girl, who still stood staring at him, and held out his mask.
"Here, take this one. It's more effective than the fabric ones."
Her glasses were fogging up a bit from where the mask had failed to properly seal around her face, but he could just make out that they were hazel. Hazel! What a delight.
"I couldn't take yours…what will you wear?"
"We can switch!" he said brightly, still holding the mask toward her.
She looked at it rather greedily, but her hands remained kept to herself. Or to each other, rather, as she was wringing them together in a way that looked almost painful to him.
"Can I be frank with you?" he asked.
Even with her mouth covered, he could feel the smile behind the flimsy fabric. "Sure, Frank. I'm Melissa, but I'll be Mel with you."
Mel. Frank. His hearts felt warm. He laughed, and marveled at how natural it sounded given that five minutes earlier he didn't think he'd ever laugh again.
Frank was no John Smith, but maybe it time for something new.
"You're funny, Mel. Take the mask. The truth is…you have someone you need to protect, don't you?"
She nodded slowly.
He couldn't give her the most reassuring truth. That he'd been vaccinated against Covid-19 for hundreds of years now and there was nothing for him to worry about. He wanted to tell her, though. If the TARDIS weren't still cooking, he'd fling the doors open and sweep Mel in, right off her feet. But the doors wouldn't open. And he wasn't sure if he was actually ready to go running through time and space with someone new just yet.
But he could give her a different truth.
"I don't. It's just me. I'm all alone in the universe now. So you need it more."
Mel took the mask with shaking hands, and carefully slipped her old one off. He stared, slack jawed and mindless, at her face. With the mask moved, he could see the mole just under her right eye. Her soft, beautiful mouth. When he reached back out to take her old mask, his own hand was shaking a bit.
'Well, that's me in trouble then.'
He put her mask on, and part of him was alarmed at how thrilled he was. Like he was breathing in her air. But most of him felt very okay with it. That was one of the hazards of regeneration. New face, new body, new voice, and new personality. This one appeared to be a bit of a freak.
For a moment, the two of them stood on the sidewalk in silence. He knew that it was probably only a few parts of a second, but no matter how much time he experienced, so much more than most would ever get to, he never failed to be amazed by how long those moments could stretch. And how important they could be.
"How do you feel about tea?"
It took him a second to process she was talking to him, but when he did, his answering grin was immediate, even if she couldn't see it through the mask.
"I happen to love tea, in fact. Good for the synapses. I could use a cup," he answered.
Mel bounced back on her heels a bit and then gestured down the street.
"I live right up there, just on the other side of the hill. I could make us a cup? We could sit on the porch?"
He did consider saying no. He gave it a thought. But he didn't want to to decline. He wanted to follow her to the end of the universe if he could convince her to let him. He looked back at the TARDIS, which looked exactly the same, but smug, somehow. A box could be smug. His blue box, especially. She always knew what he needed.
"I never turn down tea. Lead the way Mel!"
She had the most expressive eyebrows he'd ever seen. Most of her face was covered, but she could emote so clearly just with her brows. His acceptance had lit up her face so brightly, he could see how pleased she was over it just in her eyes.
He followed her lead to a small house just further down the street as she had said. The front porch wasn't very big, but it was covered and had a small bistro table and two chairs. It felt comfortable. Well, it should have felt comfortable. It actually felt quite sad, in a way. He couldn't explain why. Maybe he was just going to bring that with him everywhere now.
Mel gestured to the chairs, a little stiffly, but earnestly.
"Just wait here and I'll make us both a cup. Do you have any preferences? I've got a pretty well stocked cabinet."
"I don't need anything fancy. Black tea, a little milk and a lot of sugar. That'll do the trick."
At least he thought so. He hadn't actually had tea with his new mouth yet.
Mel nodded and assured him that she'd be right back out. There was something hesitant in the way she went inside. He didn't mean for it to catch his notice. She definitely didn't mean for it to. But the way she seemed to shrink in on herself as she went inside before she squared her shoulders and barreled her way in was…
Well, he didn't quite know yet what it was, did he? Not yet.
He drummed his fingers on the table. Bounced his leg a bit. Swung his head this way and that, looking at the neighborhood.
He'd find out, he decided.
Mel reappeared a few minutes later, two cups of tea carefully balanced on a floral printed plastic tray. She gingerly sat it down on the table between them and then, unsure at first but her mind clearly made up, she took the mask off at set it on the table as well. He followed suit before grabbing the cup that was clearly meant for him.
Her own cup seemed sunny and yellow, like she was, and rigid line of her shoulders relaxed a bit at her first sip.
"My sister lives in a care facility hours away from here. All of my money that isn't going to school, or rent, or food, goes to her. My housemates are gone and it doesn't really make a difference because honestly, I don't think they really liked me very much anyway? But even though I have someone to protect, she's far away. I can't even go get her, because I don't have a car and I can't afford to fly there and back and I don't want to make her fly here alone. I—"
She cut herself off even though he was hanging onto her every word. He wanted to know where she was going with this, because she clearly was going somewhere. But before he could prod her, she continued.
"What I'm saying is. No one is all alone in the universe. Or if you are, so am I, right now. But not right now! We're here together, with tea."
Mel nodded, and took another drink.
He took a desperate drink from his own tea, just to stop his mouth from saying something stupid. He hadn't seen it yet, but it felt like a big mouth. Anything was liable to fall out of it.
After a moment's consideration he said, "Why do you need to get your sister if she's living in a care facility?"
He was proud that he hadn't said anything about staying by her side, but that feeling gave way to alarm as the tension reappeared in Mel's shoulders.
"They're trying to clear out any non-essential residents because of Covid. Becca has me, and so they're telling me I need to come get her. And I would be there in a second, even though I'd hate to bring her back to this house. But just because I'm here to help her doesn't mean I can do it with no warning. I don't know what they want me to do."
For a moment, she looked as if she was going to cry, but she shook it off and instead just stared in frustration at her tea.
But there it was again.
"What's wrong with your house, Mel?"
His voice came out firmer than he meant it to, but only just enough so that she knew he really wanted to know the answer. She didn't look up from her tea, and so he ducked his head to try and catch her gaze.
"Are you okay, Mel?"
She laughed a bit, and that's what made his resolve settle. Because she wasn't amused. She was scared.
"That's supposed to be my question, I think."
"Mel."
Finally, she looked back at him. Her eyes seemed darker with the sheen of tears over them.
"It sounds crazy…I know it sounds crazy. But whenever I'm in there lately, it's like…I can't breathe. The air is so heavy I swear it knocks things over, and…the lights flicker. Sometimes it's like I'm just…losing time. Or that time is so thick that it takes me longer to move inside than it does when I'm outside."
He took another gulp of the tea and hoped it would wake his brain up faster. There was something familiar about what she was describing. He could almost remember it, even!
"I know it sounds crazy. And I've checked for carbon monoxide and mold and…everyone says it's stress. And it's not like I'm not stressed. But I'm always stressed. It's never like this."
He reached out to grab her hand in his own, but stopped himself before he made contact. Instead, he strummed his fingers against the tabletop.
"Can I go in?"
Mel turned to him in surprise, but she didn't say no. Instead, she said, "You believe me?"
"Of course I believe you, Mel. You're a smart, trustworthy sort. You gave me tea. The least I can do is believe you, especially when I can see that you're genuinely afraid."
He stood up and headed to the door. He didn't open it yet, though. He turned back and raised a questioning brow to Mel, who scrambled to stand up beside him. Scared, but brave. She was wonderful. She was fantastic.
"You can go in," she said.
He opened the door.
He felt it immediately after stepping in. She'd been right, it was heavy. He almost didn't know how she could move through it. Two more steps, and he heard her enter behind him.
"It's…it's worse, somehow." she said, and it sounded like the words could barely come out.
"I've felt this before…"
When he had he felt this before? Where had he—
Oh.
Oh no.
"Mel. If I told you that there's such a thing as aliens…would you believe me?"
Mel's answer was a strangled, "Right now? Yes."
"A few years ago, give or take a hundred, I was exploring a dread mine on a moon off of — well that bit's not important, the important part is, the dread part of the mine was a creature known as a Remalvea."
He needed a containment box. He needed his TARDIS. Dammit.
"They feed off of stress, grief, and other nasty bits like that. And unfortunately, with me standing here, it's got a bit of all you can eat buffet at the ready. In their own environment on Duromoremalveus it's not so bad, but…"
"They're spindly? Kind of purple teal daddy longlegs?" Mel asked.
"Well, the females are, but—" he turned back at her in surprise, "How did you—?"
She wasn't looking at him. Mel's gaze was pointed up, up, up to the top of the high ceiling of the two story foyer, where a large female Remalvea was growing more powerful by the second.
"Mel? Run!"
The two of them took back off out of the house, and onto the porch, and he shut the door soundly behind them. He reached into the pocket of the leather jacket he wore and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. Still didn't work on wood, but he could constrict the sonic field around the house into a containment frequency.
He glanced down at his sonic, wondering if he could summon the TARDIS, but he knew she'd get in a bit of a fit over that and he was going to need her in a good mood if his plan was going to work. Mind made up, he turned back to Mel.
"The good thing is, it can't leave the house."
"The good news is I can't go back in my house again?" Mel asked in disbelief.
"Well, no, I'm going to do something about this. Just…stay right there. Don't go in the house, okay? Wait right there!"
He took off running back down the street, up and down the hill, until he returned to his TARDIS. His whole body sagged in relief as the doors opened and let him in.
"Wow babe, I love what you've done with the place." he said, as he spun around the new interior.
"It's very…industrial? No, organic? It's very!"
He flung off the backpack and rested it against one of the coral structures around the console. He ran a soothing hand over some buttons.
"I know you don't like the bag but I think it's nice. Brings a little colour to the place. A little life. We could use that right now, don't you think?"
He ran into the depths of the TARDIS, somewhat sure of where he was going, but not entirely certain the room he was after was in the place he'd left it.
"I've found a new one. You're gonna love her. She's waiting back at her house for me to get back there with the Remalvea containment device I KNOW I left in here somewhere."
A door opened on his left, and he tapped the top of the frame in thanks as he ran in and dug into the shelves.
"Well, no I didn't leave her alone with the Remalvea, obviously. I put her outside first, I'm not a monster."
I'm not a monster. He was able to say it like it wasn't even a lie, which kind of made it worse.
The lights flickered urgently at him, and he waved them off. "I'm fine, I just need to get this fuckin' jar…"
The lights still flickered, more rapidly, even as he pulled the jar triumphantly from the spot on the shelf it had been wedged into.
"See, everything's hunky dory! I just gotta head back, suck the little bugger — well, big bugger, now, actually, but—"
The lights. Flickered.
Mel. She was fine. He'd left her outside of the house. The Remalvea couldn't get to her from there, not sealed into the house like he'd made sure to do. And Mel was clearly a smart girl, she wasn't going to do something silly like open the door.
Unless it influenced her to do it.
Which it couldn't, because he'd sealed it in.
It's not like it's had who knows how long to form an attachment to her.
For a moment, his hearts stopped beating.
God dammit.
He took off running to the console, jar tightly gripped in one hand, sonic in the other hand.
"I don't have time to run back! Get the coordinates off of here," he said, waving the screwdriver, "and bring us to Mel's house. Let's make it a nice landing, she's a nice girl."
He didn't stop running until he was out of the doors again, right in front of the steps to Mel's porch, where the TARDIS had dutifully brought him, and where Mel was not.
The door to the house was open.
"Shit. Fuck. Holy hell."
None of them felt quite right in his mouth as he made his way into the house. His sonic was picking up abnormal readings of something up the stairs, and he followed it until he found himself in an attic. There was none of his usual curiosity at being in a new place. He bounded up the steps with determined single-mindedness.
The Remalvea was focused on Mel, who was curled up on the floor in front of it, crying.
"Everyone leaves. Everyone leaves. Everyone leaves."
"Mel, honey—"
She couldn't hear him. Her body shook and curled into itself more, and her mantra continued to repeat. He turned a furious gaze to the Remalvea and opened the jar. It was only when it sealed itself shut and there was no remaining trace of the creature that he let his features relax.
Mel sat back up before he could make his way across the room to her. She stared back at him in near disbelief.
"You're here!"
"In the flesh," he gave her a weak grin.
"I'm so sorry!" she said with an unsteady jump up to her feet. "I didn't want to open the door, but it was like it had gotten into my head."
"No, I'm sorry Mel. I should have realized that thing would have had time to form a bond with you. I'm working on new hardware here."
"New hardware?"
"New face, new body, new taste buds. I haven't even gotten to properly look at myself yet. I don't suppose I'm ginger now?"
She looked confused, but glanced up at his hair and shook her head. "You've got brown hair. It's really nice, actually. With the leather jacket you kind of look like Rider Strong? Well, Shawn Hunter from Boy Meets World…"
The last part was said a little dreamily, which he felt both pleased and jealous about. He had no idea who she was talking about though, so his looks mostly remained a mystery. Brown hair though. Maybe next time, he thought.
"Um…can I ask you something?"
"You can ask me lotsa things Mel."
"Have you really got a new face? How did you get one? Are you like, a space criminal?"
He supposed that technically he was a space criminal, depending on the part of space you were in (and when). But he didn't think that would actually answer her question.
"I'm…the Doctor."
"Doctor What?" she asked, eyebrows up in confusion.
"Just…the Doctor. Or Frank, with you, as established."
They grinned at each other, and he took a tentative step further into the room. "Mel…I'm an alien. Not like the Remalvea, I'm a different kind. There's lots of different kinds out there. Some are a bit scary like the Remalvea. But some are more bipedal like us. Some are psychic ooze. Some are very kind."
"Like you," she said.
He wanted to deny it. He didn't deserve to be thought of that way when he still had the blood of multiple species under his fingernails. Metaphorically speaking, at least. But she looked at him so trustingly as he helped her stand back up. 'For you,' he thought, 'I can be kind for you. I can be good for you.'
"Sometimes," he said, agreeing.
He led her downstairs and out the front door again, where she looked in surprise at the TARDIS in front of her house.
"This is the box that was down the street.."
"It's my box!" he said proudly. "It's a spaceship."
She looked a little dubious at that, but he merely grinned back at her.
"It's bigger on the inside."
He opened the doors and led her in, and she looked around in wonder. He could tell the TARDIS liked her already. She had good taste. Well, mostly. He opened up the backpack he'd tossed in and put the jar inside.
"I'm going to head out so this creature can get brought back to Duromoremalveus and out of our hair….do you want to come with? See the stars?"
Mel froze. He could see the desire on her face so plainly, but then he saw her shut it off, draw her shoulders in, and shake her head.
"I…I couldn't. I have to figure out a way to get to my sister…I have to finish med school. I can't."
Oh. "Oh." he said.
Right. "Right," he said.
That didn't make any sense to him. "That makes sense," he said.
He looked around at the TARDIS, and tried again.
"I could…take you to your sister in my TARDIS. It moves through physical space, not just outer space."
She wanted to say yes. He could see it on her face. In the way her hands seemed to want to grab onto the TARDIS coral. In her perfect eyebrows.
"Becca…I don't know how I would explain all of this to her. I mean, I will one day? If that's allowed?"
As if he would deny her anything.
She picked at the hem of her shirt before saying, "I want to. I really do. I just have to think about her too."
From what he'd seen, he wasn't sure if there was any too about it. But he kept his mouth shut on that and gave her a sad nod. He tried to imagine inviting someone else in. Breathing somebody else's air.
It turns out he was only a freak for Mel.
"Well, maybe I'll see you around," he said, "it's a big universe. I come around these parts often, though."
They walked to the door of the TARDIS, and Mel stepped out so reluctantly that he was sure if he just tugged her elbow a bit she'd come right back in and forget about it all. But he couldn't do that to her.
He got back into the TARDIS, and with the flip of a few switches, he vanished.
Mel made it back up to the door before she heard the sound of the TARDIS as it rematerialized behind her. Part of her didn't want to look back. It had taken all of her strength turn away the first time. But she couldn't not look. Not when she knew who was behind her.
She turned just as the doors opened, and Frank's head popped out. His hair flopped into his face, and his blue eyes were shining up at her as he gave her a manic grin.
"Did I mention that it's also a time machine?"
She laughed. She ran toward him. She reached her hand out to grab his, which was already reaching out for hers, and together they went back inside the blue box. Then the TARDIS vanished once more.