Crossover Fic (Part 3/4)
Title: Last of Our Kind
Fandoms: Red Dwarf, Doctor Who
Pairings: Rimmer/Eleventh Doctor, Amy/Jack/Lister, Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG
Notes: Probably my favorite part so far, in which the Doctor and Rimmer get to talking, and comforting each other.
Rimmer was pacing around the corridors, trying not to think about what Lister was doing at this very moment. Those intruders had seduced him, and were probably doing unspeakable things to him right now. He just kept walking, wondering whether there was a way to dull the pain he was feeling. A pain he could not quite identify, but which made it hard to breathe; made his eyes sting with unshed tears.
He stopped for a moment and leaned against the nearest corridor wall and closed his eyes. His thoughts were racing. He suddenly remembered that his hardlight bee was responsible for most of the physical sensations he experienced, and instantly reached inward to switch it to softlight settings. With a whirr, he became incorporeal and had to steady himself so as not to fall through the wall he had previously been leaning against.
He stood up straight, and assessed the difference. He suddenly felt much better. No more tight feeling inside his chest. No more sickened feeling in his stomach. No more fast breathing or urge to cry. Only a quiet numbness. Though while he could not feel his body’s reactions to his thoughts, he was still left with a dull ache of longing and loneliness. It was unpleasant, but much more tolerable than what he had just endured.
He admitted to himself that sometimes, like now, it was beneficial to be a hologram. It meant he could escape from physical pain if he wanted to - and being Arnold Rimmer, he was certainly a coward about such things.
The pain he had just felt, though, was not caused by any injury. Only by the words of a friend - not that he would ever tell Lister he thought of him as a friend - and a dismissal. And, of course, the knowledge that his friend lay in the arms of strangers when he had never lain in the arms of…
But no, Rimmer didn’t want to think about that. Because though he couldn’t feel the nausea in his body anymore, he remembered what it felt like, and the mental echo of it was pain enough.
He walked on through the corridors and found that he had walked around the entire level in a circle. He was back at the TARDIS.
What was this thing? None of their visitors had been willing to say more about it than, “It’s a spaceship.” Yes. Well. A ruddy strange ship, to be sure. Shaped like a box? What kind of aerodynamic shape was that for space travel? Not that the Red Dwarf was particularly sleek…but how had this stupid blue box even flown in here, without any sign of crash or disturbance? And how could all three of them happily fit in there on long voyages? Rimmer frowned as he considered that they were all so “close”, they probably didn’t mind having to travel practically in each others’ laps.
He was curious, and welcomed the mystery as a distraction from his other, darker thoughts. He stood directly beside the box, and reached toward one of the doors. He reminded himself that he was softlight, and could probably peek his head through to see what was in there. Did he dare, knowing the Doctor had returned to rest inside? He decided to test it first with his hand, and pushed against the painted wood of the TARDIS with his hologramatic fingertips. They could not push through.
Rimmer frowned. So the ship had a shield in place. He was looking up at the opaque windows of the strange craft when he was shocked to see the door open. The Doctor peered out, then smiled. He let the door open further.
“If you wanted to take a look around, Arnold, you should have just asked,” he said kindly.
Rimmer felt embarrassed to be caught trying to sneak into the box, but he got distracted from that very quickly by the things he could see over the Doctor’s shoulder. The inside of the box was enormous, and full of lights and stairs and buttons.
“What is this?” he asked as bravely as he could muster. It did not appear dangerous, but it was unlike anything he’d ever seen.
“This is my TARDIS,” the Doctor said, and patted the door affectionately. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” And he turned and walked back up to the console, further inside. He left the door open.
“Where did you get it? Did you build it?” Rimmer asked, fascinated.
“My people built it. It’s the only one in the universe, now.”
Rimmer cautiously walked onboard. The floor held him, but he didn’t feel it. He reached inside and switched back to hardlight. The TARDIS door closed behind him.
“Ah, nice bit of technology,” the Doctor commented. “Light bee, very clever.”
Rimmer looked at the console, and was baffled by its complexity. There were buttons and pulleys, screens and all manner of contraptions he didn’t recognize. There appeared to be writing around the room, but not in a language he recognized.
“What language is this?” he asked, pointing to a small sign which held strange circles and lines.
“Gallifreyan,” the Doctor replied with a hint of sadness. He did not appear to want to elaborate.
“How do you fly this thing?!” Rimmer said aloud what he was thinking.
The Doctor grinned.
“Very haphazardly. It takes a great amount of concentration, and, of course, I have it programmed with isomorphic controls. Can’t have just anyone wandering in here and flying off with her! Not that they would be able to. Highly difficult. And temperamental, aren’t you, girl?” he said, while stroking a finger along the console.
“So that…Captain Jack,” he said, trying not to put venom into the man’s name, “he isn’t the Captain of this ship?”
“What, Jack? No. No, no, no. He’s a companion. Along for the ride.”
They both frowned, lost in their own separate, but similarly disapproving thoughts about Jack.
Rimmer now had conclusive proof that the Doctor outranked him, in some way or other, and was free to idolize him. He looked at the man, and marveled. He appeared so young. But he was obviously very important. And he wasn’t like the other two, who seemed only interested in sex games with people they’d just met. Rimmer remembered that the Doctor had seemed just as appalled at their actions as he himself had felt.
The Doctor moved closer to where Rimmer was standing, and leaned against the console casually. He crossed his arms and appeared to be considering his words carefully. Rimmer fought the urge to take a step back. He wasn’t used to having people in close proximity. But then, that was usually due to other people’s choices; not his own. It was strange, having the other man within an arm’s reach, but somewhat comforting. The Doctor wasn’t disgusted by him, like it seemed everyone else was. Like Lister was.
“About earlier, you know…” the Doctor began, “I don’t think they meant to step on any toes.”
Rimmer felt his light bee pulse speed up.
“What?”
“Amy and Jack. They didn’t…I mean, they didn’t mean any harm. I’m sure they wouldn’t have…” he struggled to find a suitable word, “pursued him, if they had known it would upset anyone.”
“Lister can do whatever he likes. I am not his keeper,” Rimmer said, trying to keep his voice level. “And I’m not upset.”
The Doctor looked at him with empathy in his eyes, and reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Rimmer wished he wouldn’t. It felt so good to have someone care about him, but it hurt so much to be reminded of what he felt for Lister. He looked down, his lip quivering, a burning behind his eyes.
“Okay then,” the Doctor said, under his breath. “I won’t bring it up again.”
The hand on Rimmer’s shoulder moved gently to his chin, and he felt as his face guided upward toward the Doctor’s.
“Arnold,” the Doctor said gently, seeing tears welling in the other man’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright? You can talk to me. I’m a very good listener.”
Rimmer was struggling just to hold his emotions together, but when it seemed like this other man actually cared what he was going through, his composure broke. He closed his eyes in shame as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Aww, c’mere,” the Doctor said affectionately, and then wrapped his arms around Rimmer in a strong hug. “It’s okay.”
Rimmer couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him, and it felt so wonderful. He reached his arms around the Doctor and held on tightly to the tweed jacket, as though he didn’t want this source of comfort to escape. He began to sob in earnest.
“Good. There you go, Arnold. Let it all out,” the Doctor said gently, as he reached one hand up to stroke Rimmer’s hair.
They stood like that for what felt like forever.
Rimmer kept expecting the Doctor to get bored, or tired, or find some excuse to leave the embrace. But he didn’t. The Doctor stood there holding him and whispering words of comfort to him without wavering. After a while, the sobs became quieter, and the pain felt less aggressive. And it was Rimmer who broke their hug first.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” were the first words he thought to speak.
“I won’t,” the Doctor replied with a sad smile. “But I think maybe you should.”
“Tell…? No. No I couldn’t.”
“What are you afraid of?” the Doctor asked.
“I’ve never even…and he doesn’t…besides, we don’t….” he sighed. “Everything.”
“Look, Arnold. He did what he did tonight because he is desperate for contact. For connection. He is scared, he is trapped in a frankly quite unfair reality, and he needs you.”
“How do you know?” Rimmer asked, wanting to believe but not sure how it could be true.
“Because I understand what he’s going through. I understand him. He and I…we are both the last of our kind. He is lost and needy, and very fragile. I know what that’s like. He needs you more than he can admit right now, but you can show him. You can help him see that his existence is not futile. You can give him hope. And maybe more than that,” he said with another sad smile.
Rimmer heard everything he said, and decided to deliberate on it later. For the moment, he only saw the sadness in the other man’s eyes, and wanted to reciprocate some of the comfort that he had been so freely given.
“And what about now, Doctor? Are you still lost?” he reached for the Doctor’s hand, and held it gently.
The Doctor sighed, and tried for a happier smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Sometimes. But I’ve found that I’m extremely resilient.”
Rimmer steeled himself for his next question, and swallowed.
“Are you lonely?”
“…Yes,” the Doctor whispered, reluctantly.
Rimmer’s light bee pulse sped up dramatically. He looked up into the Doctor’s face and saw pain deeper than his own, hidden behind eyes that were full of acceptance and understanding. He leaned forward, closed his eyes, and softly pressed their lips together. The Doctor did not pull away, or seek to deepen the kiss. He merely let Rimmer take his time.
Once the initial shock of softness wore off, Rimmer pushed a little harder, and felt the Doctor react in kind. He wrapped his arms around the other man and dug his fingernails into the tweed of the jacket, pulling them closer together. He felt their tongues meet, and caress each other slowly, all heat and wetness. Rimmer started to push the Doctor against the console, and pulled his hands around to pull off the bowtie and start unbuttoning his shirt.
The Doctor gently pushed his hands away.
“Arnold,” he said, and Rimmer knew he should stop. “I think we should stop.”
A million thoughts went through Rimmer’s head. Doesn’t he like me? Did I do something wrong? I bet he feels sorry for me. I just want to kiss him again. I want Lister to know that I didn’t wait around for him, but I went off and had sex with someone too. I want Lister to be jealous.
The Doctor appeared to read his mind.
“It isn’t really me you want, and we both know it,” he said plainly, straightening up his bowtie.
Rimmer opened his mouth to argue his case, but the Doctor placed a finger against his lips and he was quiet.
“You would regret it. Trust me. This is for the best.”
Rimmer pulled back and let the Doctor stand up from where he’d been pushed half onto the console.
They smiled at one another.
“I should go,” Rimmer said, feeling suddenly a bit awkward.
“Alright,” the Doctor said comfortably.
Rimmer turned to walk toward the door, took a few steps, then turned around again and walked up to the Doctor. He leaned in and gave him one last kiss - a long, deep kiss which did not offer sex, but held within it a recognition of shared need.
They were still kissing when the TARDIS door swung open and Amy and Jack returned, hand-in-hand.
“Doctor, we…” Jack began and then looked up to see the two men by the console quickly pulling apart from an obvious embrace. “Oh. Oh I see. Amy? I think we should head this way…” he said with a huge grin, pulling the startled redhead in another direction.
“No! No, it’s fine,” Rimmer said, trying not to blush. “I was just leaving.” And walked down the stairs from the console to the door at a pace that wasn’t quite running, but wasn’t far from it.
Once the TARDIS door was closed again, Amy and Jack walked up to the Doctor, teasing smiles on their faces.
“So, err, Doctor. What was all that about?” Amy asked, watching amusedly as he tried to appear busy with some lever on the console.
“Nothing.” He answered as casually as possible.
“Oh reeeeeally?” she asked, unconvinced.
“I hope you two had fun homewrecking.” He said in a frustrated voice that held a touch of anger.
Amy stopped smiling, and her brows furrowed. He was never quite this upset with them for having a bit of fun. She looked over at Jack, who appeared equally wary.
“Homewrecking?” she asked.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s done now, I suppose.” He replied evenly.
The answer seemed to click in Jack’s mind before it occurred to Amy.
“Oh…oh no. Are you saying they…those two…?”
Amy gasped.
“No! No way, he didn’t say anything about that. Doctor, why didn’t you say something?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been fixing what you broke. It should be alright now. With some luck.”
“God, I feel guilty,” Amy said.
Jack looked like he felt it too, and didn’t like the emotion one bit.
“Off to bed with you,” the Doctor said resignedly. Then he turned to look at them. He couldn’t stay upset. Not with them. They may be infuriating, but he loved them dearly. “I’ll join you in a bit,” he said with a forgiving smile.
Jack kissed him on the cheek, and then so did Amy. They left for the sleeping quarters.
The Doctor enjoyed a bit of time to himself to contemplate the evening. He allowed himself one last moment to appreciate how Arnold’s body had felt, pushed against his own. How they had shared a sacred moment of understanding. How they had comforted each other.
And then he followed in his companions’ footsteps to join them in sleep.
Fandoms: Red Dwarf, Doctor Who
Pairings: Rimmer/Eleventh Doctor, Amy/Jack/Lister, Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG
Notes: Probably my favorite part so far, in which the Doctor and Rimmer get to talking, and comforting each other.
Rimmer was pacing around the corridors, trying not to think about what Lister was doing at this very moment. Those intruders had seduced him, and were probably doing unspeakable things to him right now. He just kept walking, wondering whether there was a way to dull the pain he was feeling. A pain he could not quite identify, but which made it hard to breathe; made his eyes sting with unshed tears.
He stopped for a moment and leaned against the nearest corridor wall and closed his eyes. His thoughts were racing. He suddenly remembered that his hardlight bee was responsible for most of the physical sensations he experienced, and instantly reached inward to switch it to softlight settings. With a whirr, he became incorporeal and had to steady himself so as not to fall through the wall he had previously been leaning against.
He stood up straight, and assessed the difference. He suddenly felt much better. No more tight feeling inside his chest. No more sickened feeling in his stomach. No more fast breathing or urge to cry. Only a quiet numbness. Though while he could not feel his body’s reactions to his thoughts, he was still left with a dull ache of longing and loneliness. It was unpleasant, but much more tolerable than what he had just endured.
He admitted to himself that sometimes, like now, it was beneficial to be a hologram. It meant he could escape from physical pain if he wanted to - and being Arnold Rimmer, he was certainly a coward about such things.
The pain he had just felt, though, was not caused by any injury. Only by the words of a friend - not that he would ever tell Lister he thought of him as a friend - and a dismissal. And, of course, the knowledge that his friend lay in the arms of strangers when he had never lain in the arms of…
But no, Rimmer didn’t want to think about that. Because though he couldn’t feel the nausea in his body anymore, he remembered what it felt like, and the mental echo of it was pain enough.
He walked on through the corridors and found that he had walked around the entire level in a circle. He was back at the TARDIS.
What was this thing? None of their visitors had been willing to say more about it than, “It’s a spaceship.” Yes. Well. A ruddy strange ship, to be sure. Shaped like a box? What kind of aerodynamic shape was that for space travel? Not that the Red Dwarf was particularly sleek…but how had this stupid blue box even flown in here, without any sign of crash or disturbance? And how could all three of them happily fit in there on long voyages? Rimmer frowned as he considered that they were all so “close”, they probably didn’t mind having to travel practically in each others’ laps.
He was curious, and welcomed the mystery as a distraction from his other, darker thoughts. He stood directly beside the box, and reached toward one of the doors. He reminded himself that he was softlight, and could probably peek his head through to see what was in there. Did he dare, knowing the Doctor had returned to rest inside? He decided to test it first with his hand, and pushed against the painted wood of the TARDIS with his hologramatic fingertips. They could not push through.
Rimmer frowned. So the ship had a shield in place. He was looking up at the opaque windows of the strange craft when he was shocked to see the door open. The Doctor peered out, then smiled. He let the door open further.
“If you wanted to take a look around, Arnold, you should have just asked,” he said kindly.
Rimmer felt embarrassed to be caught trying to sneak into the box, but he got distracted from that very quickly by the things he could see over the Doctor’s shoulder. The inside of the box was enormous, and full of lights and stairs and buttons.
“What is this?” he asked as bravely as he could muster. It did not appear dangerous, but it was unlike anything he’d ever seen.
“This is my TARDIS,” the Doctor said, and patted the door affectionately. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” And he turned and walked back up to the console, further inside. He left the door open.
“Where did you get it? Did you build it?” Rimmer asked, fascinated.
“My people built it. It’s the only one in the universe, now.”
Rimmer cautiously walked onboard. The floor held him, but he didn’t feel it. He reached inside and switched back to hardlight. The TARDIS door closed behind him.
“Ah, nice bit of technology,” the Doctor commented. “Light bee, very clever.”
Rimmer looked at the console, and was baffled by its complexity. There were buttons and pulleys, screens and all manner of contraptions he didn’t recognize. There appeared to be writing around the room, but not in a language he recognized.
“What language is this?” he asked, pointing to a small sign which held strange circles and lines.
“Gallifreyan,” the Doctor replied with a hint of sadness. He did not appear to want to elaborate.
“How do you fly this thing?!” Rimmer said aloud what he was thinking.
The Doctor grinned.
“Very haphazardly. It takes a great amount of concentration, and, of course, I have it programmed with isomorphic controls. Can’t have just anyone wandering in here and flying off with her! Not that they would be able to. Highly difficult. And temperamental, aren’t you, girl?” he said, while stroking a finger along the console.
“So that…Captain Jack,” he said, trying not to put venom into the man’s name, “he isn’t the Captain of this ship?”
“What, Jack? No. No, no, no. He’s a companion. Along for the ride.”
They both frowned, lost in their own separate, but similarly disapproving thoughts about Jack.
Rimmer now had conclusive proof that the Doctor outranked him, in some way or other, and was free to idolize him. He looked at the man, and marveled. He appeared so young. But he was obviously very important. And he wasn’t like the other two, who seemed only interested in sex games with people they’d just met. Rimmer remembered that the Doctor had seemed just as appalled at their actions as he himself had felt.
The Doctor moved closer to where Rimmer was standing, and leaned against the console casually. He crossed his arms and appeared to be considering his words carefully. Rimmer fought the urge to take a step back. He wasn’t used to having people in close proximity. But then, that was usually due to other people’s choices; not his own. It was strange, having the other man within an arm’s reach, but somewhat comforting. The Doctor wasn’t disgusted by him, like it seemed everyone else was. Like Lister was.
“About earlier, you know…” the Doctor began, “I don’t think they meant to step on any toes.”
Rimmer felt his light bee pulse speed up.
“What?”
“Amy and Jack. They didn’t…I mean, they didn’t mean any harm. I’m sure they wouldn’t have…” he struggled to find a suitable word, “pursued him, if they had known it would upset anyone.”
“Lister can do whatever he likes. I am not his keeper,” Rimmer said, trying to keep his voice level. “And I’m not upset.”
The Doctor looked at him with empathy in his eyes, and reached out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Rimmer wished he wouldn’t. It felt so good to have someone care about him, but it hurt so much to be reminded of what he felt for Lister. He looked down, his lip quivering, a burning behind his eyes.
“Okay then,” the Doctor said, under his breath. “I won’t bring it up again.”
The hand on Rimmer’s shoulder moved gently to his chin, and he felt as his face guided upward toward the Doctor’s.
“Arnold,” the Doctor said gently, seeing tears welling in the other man’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright? You can talk to me. I’m a very good listener.”
Rimmer was struggling just to hold his emotions together, but when it seemed like this other man actually cared what he was going through, his composure broke. He closed his eyes in shame as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Aww, c’mere,” the Doctor said affectionately, and then wrapped his arms around Rimmer in a strong hug. “It’s okay.”
Rimmer couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged him, and it felt so wonderful. He reached his arms around the Doctor and held on tightly to the tweed jacket, as though he didn’t want this source of comfort to escape. He began to sob in earnest.
“Good. There you go, Arnold. Let it all out,” the Doctor said gently, as he reached one hand up to stroke Rimmer’s hair.
They stood like that for what felt like forever.
Rimmer kept expecting the Doctor to get bored, or tired, or find some excuse to leave the embrace. But he didn’t. The Doctor stood there holding him and whispering words of comfort to him without wavering. After a while, the sobs became quieter, and the pain felt less aggressive. And it was Rimmer who broke their hug first.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” were the first words he thought to speak.
“I won’t,” the Doctor replied with a sad smile. “But I think maybe you should.”
“Tell…? No. No I couldn’t.”
“What are you afraid of?” the Doctor asked.
“I’ve never even…and he doesn’t…besides, we don’t….” he sighed. “Everything.”
“Look, Arnold. He did what he did tonight because he is desperate for contact. For connection. He is scared, he is trapped in a frankly quite unfair reality, and he needs you.”
“How do you know?” Rimmer asked, wanting to believe but not sure how it could be true.
“Because I understand what he’s going through. I understand him. He and I…we are both the last of our kind. He is lost and needy, and very fragile. I know what that’s like. He needs you more than he can admit right now, but you can show him. You can help him see that his existence is not futile. You can give him hope. And maybe more than that,” he said with another sad smile.
Rimmer heard everything he said, and decided to deliberate on it later. For the moment, he only saw the sadness in the other man’s eyes, and wanted to reciprocate some of the comfort that he had been so freely given.
“And what about now, Doctor? Are you still lost?” he reached for the Doctor’s hand, and held it gently.
The Doctor sighed, and tried for a happier smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Sometimes. But I’ve found that I’m extremely resilient.”
Rimmer steeled himself for his next question, and swallowed.
“Are you lonely?”
“…Yes,” the Doctor whispered, reluctantly.
Rimmer’s light bee pulse sped up dramatically. He looked up into the Doctor’s face and saw pain deeper than his own, hidden behind eyes that were full of acceptance and understanding. He leaned forward, closed his eyes, and softly pressed their lips together. The Doctor did not pull away, or seek to deepen the kiss. He merely let Rimmer take his time.
Once the initial shock of softness wore off, Rimmer pushed a little harder, and felt the Doctor react in kind. He wrapped his arms around the other man and dug his fingernails into the tweed of the jacket, pulling them closer together. He felt their tongues meet, and caress each other slowly, all heat and wetness. Rimmer started to push the Doctor against the console, and pulled his hands around to pull off the bowtie and start unbuttoning his shirt.
The Doctor gently pushed his hands away.
“Arnold,” he said, and Rimmer knew he should stop. “I think we should stop.”
A million thoughts went through Rimmer’s head. Doesn’t he like me? Did I do something wrong? I bet he feels sorry for me. I just want to kiss him again. I want Lister to know that I didn’t wait around for him, but I went off and had sex with someone too. I want Lister to be jealous.
The Doctor appeared to read his mind.
“It isn’t really me you want, and we both know it,” he said plainly, straightening up his bowtie.
Rimmer opened his mouth to argue his case, but the Doctor placed a finger against his lips and he was quiet.
“You would regret it. Trust me. This is for the best.”
Rimmer pulled back and let the Doctor stand up from where he’d been pushed half onto the console.
They smiled at one another.
“I should go,” Rimmer said, feeling suddenly a bit awkward.
“Alright,” the Doctor said comfortably.
Rimmer turned to walk toward the door, took a few steps, then turned around again and walked up to the Doctor. He leaned in and gave him one last kiss - a long, deep kiss which did not offer sex, but held within it a recognition of shared need.
They were still kissing when the TARDIS door swung open and Amy and Jack returned, hand-in-hand.
“Doctor, we…” Jack began and then looked up to see the two men by the console quickly pulling apart from an obvious embrace. “Oh. Oh I see. Amy? I think we should head this way…” he said with a huge grin, pulling the startled redhead in another direction.
“No! No, it’s fine,” Rimmer said, trying not to blush. “I was just leaving.” And walked down the stairs from the console to the door at a pace that wasn’t quite running, but wasn’t far from it.
Once the TARDIS door was closed again, Amy and Jack walked up to the Doctor, teasing smiles on their faces.
“So, err, Doctor. What was all that about?” Amy asked, watching amusedly as he tried to appear busy with some lever on the console.
“Nothing.” He answered as casually as possible.
“Oh reeeeeally?” she asked, unconvinced.
“I hope you two had fun homewrecking.” He said in a frustrated voice that held a touch of anger.
Amy stopped smiling, and her brows furrowed. He was never quite this upset with them for having a bit of fun. She looked over at Jack, who appeared equally wary.
“Homewrecking?” she asked.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. It’s done now, I suppose.” He replied evenly.
The answer seemed to click in Jack’s mind before it occurred to Amy.
“Oh…oh no. Are you saying they…those two…?”
Amy gasped.
“No! No way, he didn’t say anything about that. Doctor, why didn’t you say something?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been fixing what you broke. It should be alright now. With some luck.”
“God, I feel guilty,” Amy said.
Jack looked like he felt it too, and didn’t like the emotion one bit.
“Off to bed with you,” the Doctor said resignedly. Then he turned to look at them. He couldn’t stay upset. Not with them. They may be infuriating, but he loved them dearly. “I’ll join you in a bit,” he said with a forgiving smile.
Jack kissed him on the cheek, and then so did Amy. They left for the sleeping quarters.
The Doctor enjoyed a bit of time to himself to contemplate the evening. He allowed himself one last moment to appreciate how Arnold’s body had felt, pushed against his own. How they had shared a sacred moment of understanding. How they had comforted each other.
And then he followed in his companions’ footsteps to join them in sleep.