#monsterfisken

“Take that!”

Tegan’s triumphant cry cut through the icy air as her weapon found its mark. The Doctor reeled back, powdered snow exploding across his chest.

My poor celery… the Doctor thought mournfully.

He’d originally thought it was a fantastic idea to travel to the world of Horus VI. The planet’s climate was too cold for the other inhabitants of the solar system, so it had been sold to the human empire, who chose to build it into a holiday resort planet. Despite having a maximum capacity of 5 billion, the waiting list for a fortnight there was at least 3 years long.

Naturally, the Doctor hadn’t booked. They’d just turned up, and could sort the details later.

Being human, Tegan had taken one look at the snow and instantly decided what they should do. Having spent a year in a private school, Turlough decided exactly the same thing.

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!!”

Nyssa and the Doctor blinked at them.

“Okay, so, we’ll split into teams. Me and Turlough, then you two.  We’ll take an hour to build our defences, then the battle begins! Okay?”

“…I…guess?” Nyssa was rather confused about the sudden change in Tegan. Not five minutes ago she was complaining about how the Doctor was going to take them to some barren ice rock.

—

Nyssa thought they’d done rather well with their fort. The walls were high and structurally sound, they had lowered areas where they could throw their balls of snow then duck to the side for cover. They’d made plenty of snowballs. They should be undefeatable.

Especially compared to Tegan and Turlough. They’d built two snow men, taking 15 minutes of their time, then dedicated the rest to snowball production. Nyssa thought they were rather foolish and was prepared to win.

– 

 Not even half an hour later, Nyssa was forced to take back all her beliefs that they would succeed. Under the persistent barrage of snow from the other team, their fort began to weaken and the sheer force of their throws caused it to crumble.

 Now they were left defenceless, with no hope of winning. 

 Nyssa watched as the Doctor staggered under Tegan’s blow, falling to the ground. Distracted, she was unaware of Turlough’s projectile until it hit her in the shoulder. She rolled over onto her side with a groan, facing the Doctor in a similar position. 

 “We can’t beat them!” He shouted. 

 “I know!” Though, even as she said that, an idea began to form in her mind. “Wait! I think I have an idea!”

“Are you sure, Nys-” He was cut short by Turlough flinging snow into his face. “Forget it! Just go for it!” 

Nyssa pushed herself off the ground and began striding towards them, a look of fierce determination (along with snow) plastered on her face. The other three watched on in confused anticipation, unsure what she was doing.

Nyssa strode right up to Tegan, grabbed her coat lapels and pulled her into a deep kiss. The Australian froze in shock, before wrapping her arms around her neck. It was a moment of intense bliss, interrupted by a loud shriek from Tegan. Nyssa had shoved snow down her back. 

 “Okay, you win.” She whispered breathlessly 

“I know.” 

They remained locked in a loving embrace, as icy water began spreading across Tegan’s back. She didn’t care though, Nyssa was all the warmth she needed.

Set after Emerald Tiger, but before Prisoners of Fate

There are approximately 17 sitting rooms in the TARDIS, all located somewhere within the vast confines of the Gallifreyan ship. Approximately because the TARDIS likes to change things up every so often and the Doctor is never entirely sure whether it’s a new room he’s stepped into or if it’s Room 3 but with a different carpet, or is it just Room 1 every time?

Anyway, this story takes place in what is probably Sitting Room 12, but it might be 18. In any case, it’s a room with sofas and armchairs and a fire.

The atmosphere of this room was warm and welcoming. The aforementioned fire crackled and flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The scent of pine needles hung in the air- the source of which was a large tree in the corner. Despite its positioning, this was the centre piece of the room, adorned with sparkly tinsel and ornate baubles (in his 3rd regeneration, the Doctor tried to claim these had been given to him by a God-like creature in the Mutara Nebula, but Jo said they looked exactly like the ones she’d seen in the antiques shop last week.)

It was positively cosy, and should have been a room entirely at peace.

So naturally, an argument was taking place.

“I don’t understand, Doctor,” Turlough complained, “Why are we celebrating Christmas?”

“Because, Turlough, it’s been roughly a year- relatively speaking of course- since we last celebrated it. Besides it’s rather good fun!”

“It also means we get cake and presents!” Tegan chipped in helpfully

Turlough looked at her.

“Oh come on, Turlough! Don’t be such a Scrooge!”

“Doctor! Tegan’s using Earth culture references again!”

“Well, you should know that one- you went to school!”

“Yes, and I do not need to be reminded of the time spent listening to my English teacher droning on and on about how this guy was dead to begin with!”

The Doctor stepped between them, arms raised in defence. “Alright, alright you two. Tegan, stop winding him up- don’t argue- Turlough, we are celebrating Christmas as a group and that means getting on, okay? I’m not putting up with you two squabbling any more till this holiday is over.”

The two exchanged sullen glances (although both were on the verge of bursting into laughter at the other’s expression.)

“Right! Good that’s sorted. Now, I am going to see if there’s anywhere or time on Earth we could visit that you would enjoy.”

“Good luck actually arriving there,” Tegan muttered.

The Doctor gave her a look that told her he wasn’t even going to dignify that response with an answer, then left the room.

—

“All I wanted to know was why we only seem to celebrate Earth holidays- holidays from merely one religion at that! Why do we never do one of mine – or Nyssa’s?”

Tegan had been about to reply with ‘you barely talk about your home- it took an entire kidnapping for us to even know something!’, but the mention of Nyssa silenced her. Their companion was in the room, yet hadn’t spoken at all- which wasn’t unusual in itself- but she hadn’t even attempted to stop their bickering, which was unusual.

Glancing towards their peacemaker, they saw she sat in the armchair, gazing deeply into the fire. The soft glow reflected of something on her cheeks. Tear tracks.

Tegan and Turlough turned to face each other and, in the silence of their stare, they came to an understanding. Turlough mumbled a non-specific excuse and dashed out the door. Tegan made her way carefully over to Nyssa.

“Did Turlough really just mumble “a non-specific excuse”?” She joked.

Nyssa made no indication of having heard the quip and continued to observe the fire, as if it held all the answers.

Tegan’s demeanour changed in an instant, from sarcastic Australian, to concerned friend. She stepped closer, making to perch on the arm of the chair; slowly she reached her arm out to place it round the Trakenite’s shoulders.

At the contact, Nyssa glanced up, eyes glistening with untold sadness.

“Oh…Tegan, sorry I didn’t notice…” she trailed off, eyes returning to the fire.

“Hey, hey it’s alright,” Tegan’s usually abrasive voice was soft and soothing, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s n-nothing Tegan. I’m fine.” Nyssa dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her jacket, carefully ignoring Tegan’s stare. It wasn’t a very convincing lie.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll be forced to guess and you know what my guesses are like!”

Nyssa let out a shaky laugh at this, hopefully remembering the last Christmas the TARDIS team celebrated together, where they’d played charades and Tegan spent 10 minutes trying to guess what Adric was acting. Suddenly that moment felt, to her, like an eternity ago, and it must have felt even longer for Nyssa. When she’d left she’d been younger than Tegan, and now she was many years older.

And we’ve swapped one annoying brat for another, Tegan thought, trying to ignore the pang of grief tugging at her memories.

Her happy memories of all the banter, the frustration of all the arguments, the calm of the private moments she shared with Nyssa. Their family had changed so much-

That’s when it clicked.

Family.

“You- you miss your family don’t you?” she asked, emotions suddenly threatening to overwhelm her.

Nyssa nodded, then whispered, her voice catching slightly, “All of them.”

Tegan wasn’t certain on how to respond, so she asked: “Do you want to talk about it?”

–

Nyssa’s first instinct was to shake her head, but she knew bottling it up would only cause it to overflow at a later date- better get it done now, then she’d be better prepared to help others later.

Taking a deep breath (and a moment to consider her words) she began:

“All this talk of mentioning Christmas, it makes me think of all the other festivals and holidays in my life- making me realise all I’ve lost. I miss everything. I miss my family. My father, my mother, Kassia.

“On Traken we had this festival of light. It would be celebrated at the completion of every orbit our planet made of the sun, to remind us…”

The sun was beginning to set for the final time in that rotation. Dying rays of dazzling orange cast dark shadows across the land. It was not a scary sight; these shadows were dancing along with their owners, to the soft melodies that hung in the air. In a few moments, the lanterns would be lit, holding the light until it was the sun’s turn to lift it again. The festival would continue until the rays began to peak above the horizon, signifying the new beginnings for the Traken Union. Despite the advancing darkness, the atmosphere was light, laughter intertwined with the music and love was at the very core. The laughter and love were at their strongest between a group of three people. A man, a woman, and a young girl. The girl was wearing a brand-new dress; flowers adorned her chestnut hair. The other two were her parents, laughing at her joy as she swayed to the music, loving with all their hearts as she came back to them for hugs. They say Utopia cannot theoretically exist, but this must be the closest ever achieved.

–

Tegan’s own eyes were glistening with tears after listening to Nyssa recount the beauty that was Traken in the twilight.

“Wow…that sounds so…perfect…”

“It was. Back then, those nights felt like they would never end. But now-” She took a shaky breath. “But now they’ll never start again.”

Tegan gazed into Nyssa’s eyes. Eyes full of so much sorry and tragedy, but Tegan knew they could shine bright with hope and intelligence, and she’d do all she could to bring that back.

—

It was a few moments before either of them spoke, and when they did, they began discussing Nyssa’s children

“They’re the most wonderful children anyone could ever ask for. Neeka is strong and brave- she’s like you Tegan. A bit sarcastic and argumentative but she always knows what’s right. Adric is intelligent like his namesake – though he definitely eats less!” The two laughed gently at that.

“And Lasarti- he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. He’s kind and…I love him”

Tegan tried to ignore the jealousy twisting at her heart. This was about Nyssa, not her feelings.

“Tell me more about them. What holidays do you celebrate on Terminus then?”

“The last thing we celebrated together was Lasarti’s birthday…"

The girl had spent hours trying to perfect the cake. It was slightly more difficult that synthesising an enzyme, but it was manageable. It had to be perfect. Her brother was creating a distraction to prevent their father from discovering the surprise, asking him hundreds of questions about his work- a topic the boy usually showed no interest in. When the cake was finally complete, the girl presented it with a flourish. Their father laughed in delight and declared it a masterpiece, although it was a little burned in places and she'd accidentally used salt instead of sugar in the top layer. Their mother looked on, smiling softly. Her son made the cake for her birthday and it had been an interesting mess of colour. They spent the evening playing games and the boy repeatedly refused to admit he was in the least bit tired because he's a teenager now and doesn't need to be told what to do. He fell asleep curled up to his sister, who fell asleep on top of him. The parents shared an adoring glace and decided to sleep in there with them.

 "...And, despite all the horrors in the outside world, it was so cosy and peaceful…” Nyssa trailed off, the warm atmosphere fading like the embers in the fire “…t-that was the last time we ever spent together as a family”

“Nys…” Tegan replied softly, her heart breaking.

Nyssa brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears ran anew down her cheeks.

“I lost my parents, Adric, my family. I lose everyone. I’m- I’m cursed! Don’t you see, Tegan, it’s only a matter of time till I lose you too!”

“You won’t lose me. I won’t leave you”

“You left before”

“No. You left me at Heathrow. And besides, you left too. But we both came back and that’s what matters.”

“You’ll get back to them, Nys. You’ll deliver the cure for Richters and save millions- billions of lives! You’ll become a universal hero and your children will love you more than ever!”

Nyssa lifted her head and gave a tearful smile. “I appreciate the sentiment Tegan, I wish I had your optimism.”

Tegan hugged her tightly, impulsively, “You will see your children again Nyssa. You will. They’ll be overjoyed to see you and you’ll celebrate so many holidays together” She paused, “…but at least make the most of these ones too”

Nyssa gazed up at Tegan, and returned the hug, “I will.” She pressed a kiss gently to her cheek and whispered

“Thank you”

—

“Ah, there you are,” the Doctor stepped into the room, “You know, I could have sworn this room was closer to the console room. Anyway, we’ve managed to land at a Frost Fair in London so if you…”

A safe space.

That was Barbara's first association with the word library. During her years as a schoolgirl, and even later as a student, she used to spend holidays in Oxford with her aunt who worked in one of the University's libraries. Because Barbara was a quiet child, her aunt always took her along to work and let her sit beside the reception desk and read books. Later the aunt thought her everything about the books classifying system and how the catalogues work, so when Barbara grew up, she earned her first money by working as a librarian, replacing the workers who had taken some days off.

Barbara had only fond memories of that time and a strong conviction that nothing really wrong can ever happen in a big public library, with endless shelves of books, dim ligths, comfortable silence, and gentle librarians whom you can always ask for help with finding what you need. Of course, as an adult she was perfectly aware that it was very naive to think this way, but still - she preferred to pretend that such safe spaces still existed. It helped to keep her inner balance when the school responsibilites and private matters seemed too much to handle.

And since her current situation felt just like that - too much to handle, even though Barbara would never show or admit it to anyone - she wasn't much surprised that her feet were leading her somewhere else than her own room in the TARDIS. After this unpleasant business with one locked button and the ship messing with everybody's heads, she needed a moment to regain her composure.

A moment in a non-threatening space.

A moment in a library.

The Doctor had mentioned something about the ship being able to read or sense the passengers' needs and produce all sorts of rooms with various things inside them. Well, after what she had just experienced, the idea seemed quite plausible, so Barbara decided to focus her mind on a picture of a library, hoping that the Tardis would understand what she needed. She took two turns left and two turns right when suddenly a heavy wooden door appeared right in front of her. Barbara smiled to herself as she felt, not for the first time in her life, like Lucy Pevensie opening the old wardrobe door leading to Narnia. Barbara was very fond of such stories, and now she seemed to step into one by herself - only a few days ago - by simply opening the door of an old police box standing in a junkyard. Isn't life funny sometimes?

Hoping that the door in front of her will indeed lead to a library, she pushed it a little bit and took a cautious look at the inside. Her face lit up instantly as she noticed the bookshelves, ladders, tables with little lamps on them and a few comfortable-looking armchairs. She slipped inside, grabbed a random book from the nearest shelf and sat down in one of the armchairs. She started to breathe deeply, caressing the cover of the book, enjoying the silence and the comfort. Yes, that felt good. That was just what she needed.

After a few minutes she actually looked at the book she was holding. Whale Songbook. A bit baffled, Barbara opened it and searched for the year of publishing. 2432. Of course, she thought, it's a time travel machine, no wonder there are books from the future here. That thought overwhelmed her for a moment, but then she stood up, went to the nearest shelves and looked more closely at the titles and authors. Maybe she could find some Stella Gibbons' novels published after 1963? If the women has written anything more after The Weather at Tregulla, obviously. Or will have written. Oh, even the tenses get complicated when you travel in time...

But Stella Gibbons' works were not exactly the thing Barbara was really after in that moment. It didn't seem like the books had been put on the shelves in any logical system, but again the TARDIS might have somehow sensed what Barbara had wanted, as she found the book just on the second shelf she was checking out.

She smiled, thanked the TARDIS aloud, feeling only a little bit silly for talking to a ship. But again, with all these convenient coincidences, you never know...

***

Barbara woke up to the sound of quiet chuckling. For a moment she didn't know where she was and what was going on around her, but then she noticed someone sitting in an armchair just a few feet away on her right side. It was the Doctor, judging by the sounds the person was making. And he was reading a book.

'Ah, you're awake now!' said the Doctor when he saw Barbara standing up from the armchair. She smiled to him, even though she was a little bit annoyed by the fact that he has found her there. No more being alone and careless.

'Yes, it seems like I've fallen asleep while reading', she said politely, stiffling a yawn.

'Do you find Jane Eyre that boring, my dear?' asked the Doctor at once.

Barbara looked and felt indignant by the mere suggestion. 'No, of course I don't find it boring! It is my favourite book! And I always read it when I feel sad or tired' she explained, trying to keep her voice low and steady. 'Clearly, after our little adventures, I was more tired than I thought.'

Then she started looking for the book on the floor where it must have fallen down when she fell asleep. She couldn't see it anywhere, though.

The Doctor was watching her for a moment but then seemed to realize what was she doing. 'Here, I've borrowed your book', he offered while holding a copy of Jane Eyre in Barbara's direction. 'It is a long time since I've last read it, so I wanted to refresh my memory. I hope you don't mind? You weren't reading it anyway', he added, obviously laughing at his own joke.

Barbara sighed inwardly, but decided to let the Doctor have his way. 'It's all right, you can continue reading it. I'll take a look at this other book I've found earlier', she replied, having in mind the Whale Songbook.

For quite some time the Doctor and Barbara were sitting and reading in comfortable silence. Barbara stopped feeling annoyed and started to feel peace, then longing for the open sea, then pure wanderlust and curiosity, along with an overwhelming love of the Universe. The songs were beautiful beyond words. She didn't even noticed any words while reading, it seemed like the meaning was going straight to her mind. Amazed by this realization, she closed the book and looked at the Doctor.

'Doctor, could you please explain to me how is it that I can't read the words themselves, but still understand the meaning?' she asked, showing him the cover of the songbook.

'Ah, yes, that would be the TARDIS translating it for you in this way, nothing to worry about', was the Doctor's reply. Then he moved his gaze from the book to Barbara's face, chuckled, and said: 'I think you've found yourself a new favourite book.'

Only then Barbara discovered that she had tears in her eyes and smile on her face. Yes, she thought, this book will stay in her heart forever. And hopefully in the future it will also help her deal with homesickness, as it has done just now. She felt ready to see all the wonders of the Universe.

I remember a time, before I knew what loneliness was, and how those cruel claws could cut into you like knives, leaving you breathless in one moment, killing you and carving you from the inside, out. It strips away the person inside, leaving nothing but a shell, empty, and hollow. A shell, with dead eyes, that look through, rather than at the people around you.

Where you once used to smile, there’s nothing. Only the darkness, and you, wondering what happened to the rest of yourself. There is no sunset at the end of a life, only the empty, quiet night. No stars scattered across the dark, empty sky above.

Just a lonely, silent moon, unattached to a planet, and drifting free through the empty expanse of space.

Back home with my tribe, there was no such thing as being truly alone. The sun rose, and the sun set, and people rose and fell with it, but there was always someone else there. On Gallifrey, though, at the end of one cycle, there is nothing else there, in the next.

Just more endless hours, passing slowly.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Romana’s voice speaks up from beside me, and I half-turn my head to look at her, from out of the corner of my eye. It is nice, to have a friend again, as well as a job. To not be entirely without direction, even as untethered as I am, these days.

For all that Romana and I might disagree, having something to do helps to give some definition to the cold, empty nights.

I am her bodyguard, and I take it very seriously; nights spent standing outside her door, or pacing the halls and the immediate rooms. She might say that there is little danger on Gallifrey, and that I might be easier on myself, but I say that you should not grow comfortable in the middle of a nest of vipers, simply because some of them are sleeping at the moment.

Besides, it is a focus for me.

It also gives me a reason, to explore all those little side passages, and back ways into places. A place that you don’t know well is a place that’s undefended, and I have come to know the places that I follow Romana to very well, indeed.

It’s only after a few minutes of silence, with nothing but the sound of waves, which glitter like jewels in the sunlight, and the calls of the seabirds that are circling low over the ocean, that Romana raises an eyebrow at me and clears her throat.

“Hmm? I am sorry, I was… distracted.”

“I was just wondering what’s going on in that head of yours.”

I shift a little closer to the edge, light on my feet and look down at the rocks below, as the wind tugs at me, almost as though it wants me to step a little further, and meet them.

“I like the ocean. It makes me feel… small, looking out at how large it is. Compared to it, I am nothing. It doesn’t care what I say, or what I do. I could throw myself in right now, and vanish beneath those waves, and it wouldn’t make a difference. It would swallow me up, and strip me down, until I was nothing but bleached bones for the fish to swim through. When I stand in the face of something so large, it is the only time that I feel at peace, now.”

I can see that look in Romana’s eyes, that slight turn-down at the left corner of her mouth, which is something that she does only when she is really thinking about something, processing it in that quicksilver mind of hers.

“What’s got into you, Leela? What’s wrong?” In this moment, I can tell by that tone that she is the Lady President no longer, although she still carries herself in a regal manner. Right now, she is asking as a friend, and I have far too few of those left.

I shrug, a gesture long ago learned from another friend, back when I was so much younger. Free, and travelling through all of time and space with him, eager to learn, and eager to please. I’m so much older, now. I may not look it, but I feel it, in my bones.

“Please? Talk to me? I want to help you.”

“I am lonely, Romana.” It is the first time that I’ve admitted it to her, in so many words. “I am lonely, and I am alone. My life, without Andred in it, is like a sky without rain, the earth under it dry and desperate, and all the plants withered and dying, or dead.”

“Oh, Leela.”

I can hear that compassion in her voice, now, as well as her concern.

“I am sorry, if it makes me poor company in this bright, shining place.”

Her hand rests on my shoulder, a light, easy touch. Romana does not flinch away from me, an insignificant, short-lived alien, like so many back on Gallifrey still do. They think that they can hide their discomfort, and their disgust. They think that I do not see how they look down on me. But there is a difference, of course, between not noticing something, and choosing not to react to it. I see it all, as clearly as I see my own hand in front of my face.

It is nice, to have a friend that does not look down their nose at me.

“Don’t be sorry, Leela.”

Her hand squeezes lightly, and I find myself leaning into the touch, slightly.

It is also nice, to not be treated as though I am carrying a virus that could decimate the Time Lords, and their perfect society.

“Here, come back from the edge. Please. Come back, and let me help you feel better. I’m a friend to you, aren’t I? I can do that much for you, here and now in this place, at least.”

“How, Romana? It is as though something has been torn out of my life, and scattered to the winds.”

I turn, still lightfooted, and still on the very edge, to face her. The thought is never far from my mind – that all that I would have to do now, would be lean backwards and her face, and that incredible sky above me would be the last things that I would see. There are worse things in the universe, than taking a last breath in the presence of a friend.

I won’t though; I can’t. Even as cold and tired as I feel, my heart rages at the thought of simply giving up.

“Just trust me. Come away from that ledge, and I’ll show you.”

Just trust me.

To trust someone feels like a strange idea. But I do trust Romana, for all of the differences between us. It takes effort to take that first step forward, towards Romana, but the second and the third, and the rest that follow as she leads me back from the edge are far easier.

“Very well, then. I will trust you, Romana.”