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The Sound of Comfort

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Yaz tossed and turned. She huffed. Flipped her pillow over. Turned again. Finally, Yaz flopped onto her back and groaned at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep.

This last adventure had left her shaken. She was able to admit that, at least to herself. The fam ( don’t tell the Doctor, but Yaz really liked that one ), had stumbled into a revolution against an fascist dictatorship. Naturally, they joined to free the people, but in the process, Graham was arrested, Ryan and Yaz were arrested and set to be drowned, and the Doctor was about to be hung. Around everyone else, she had to keep the facade up, pretending she was alright, but now? Alone in her room at night, it was coming back to haunt her.

Yaz knew they got out safely, thanks to a timely fire, but she was scared. She had been terrified she would lose the Doctor and be stuck on an alien planet in a vastly different time than her own. The scene of the Doctor almost dying kept replaying in her head until Yaz couldn’t take it anymore.

She sat up and made her decision. Yaz knew the Doctor spent many of her nights tinkering under the console. She always said that the TARDIS was old and simply needed some TLC, and that Time Lords didn’t sleep much. Yaz always shook her head at her, but tonight she was grateful for this particular habit.

Yaz got out of bed, bunching her comforter around her, her hair falling out of its braid. She padded out of her room and followed the twisting hallways to the console room. Once there, she found the Doctor. Well, she found half of the Doctor. Her upper body was beneath the console, legs sticking out and the sound of metal hitting metal and the Doctor muttering trickling out.

Already, Yaz felt more relaxed. The Doctor was nearby, and alive. She grabbed the Doctor’s coat that had been tossed carelessly by a pillar and folded it into a pillow, making sure that there wasn’t anything especially lumpy in the pockets. With her comforter still wrapped around her, she curled up on the floor. With the scent of the Doctor under her head and the sounds of the Time Lord’s tinkering surrounding her, she slipped into sleep.


The Doctor spent most of her nights tinkering under the console in the TARDIS. Her ship was old and needed a lot of maintenance, and doing so was such a valuable way of reconnecting with the ship. Her companions always worried about her sleep schedule, but she didn’t need that much sleep.

While she was working, the Doctor was thinking of where to take the fam next. They deserved a relaxing trip or two after the one they just had. She knew she was bad at emotions, she preferred to hide from them rather than deal with them, but she recognized that everyone had been scared after this last trip. Maybe she’d take them to Midnight for a nice spa and some sightseeing. Or Barcelona. She’s always loved those dogs. Ryan would, too.

Distracted by her ideas of where to take everyone, the wrench slipped out of her hand, again , and hit her in the forehead, again , and bounced out of reach.

“Ouch!” she gasped out. “Oh, curse you. I curse you to being used as food by a Blonud. Stupid wrench.”

The Doctor crawled out of the console with the intention to find the wrench and stopped short with the sight she found. Curled up under a big blanket and with her own coat as a pillow was Yasmin Khan. The Doctor smiled softly at the sight of the young woman curled up in a very uncomfortable place but sleeping very soundly.

“Oh Yaz, why are you sleeping out here?” the Doctor whispered to the sleeping woman. She knew that she couldn’t leave her companion on the floor, it wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep. Crouching down, she picked Yaz up in her arms and stood up. At the change of position, Yaz shifted, curling into the Doctor.

The Doctor just stood there for a minute, gazing down at Yaz. She knew the other woman felt alone many times, with Graham and Ryan being family and all that, and she would bet that the adventures had left her feeling scared.

“It’s okay, Yaz. I’m more resilient than you think.”

She started walking towards Yaz’s room, grateful that the TARDIS decided to momentarily move the bedrooms closer to the console room. She wanted Yaz in bed as soon as possible, so that she could sleep in a comfortable spot. Yaz deserved a sound sleep, which she wouldn’t get on the floor of the console room. At least it isn’t grating anymore, though she did have the jump seat then, too .

The Doctor leaned down and put Yaz back in her bed, but as she stood up again ( to go find the aquarium, maybe, it’s been awhile ), she found she couldn’t. Looking down, she figured out why. In her sleep, Yaz had grabbed onto her suspenders and wasn’t letting go. She gently took hold of Yaz’s hand and tried to get it to let go of her, but with the movement, Yaz stirred. The Doctor paused, noting that her companion was starting to wake up, probably from the lack of warmth. She tried one more time to separate the two, but when her actions provided the same results, she gave up.

With a scrunch of her face, the Doctor gave in and just lay down in the bed. She ensured a good 6 inches, if not a foot, of space between the two, an action which immediately proved futile. Within a minute of her lying down, Yaz curled up on her. The Doctor tensed, wanting to move away. She started to try and extract herself once more, but then caught a glimpse of Yaz’s face.

Yaz looked so serene, nothing but relaxed and secure. It was a far cry from the face the Doctor saw right before she was set to die. The Doctor relaxed as she took in Yaz’s face. In her sleep, Yaz wasn’t trying to prove herself, or worried about everyone else. She could find some peace in her sleep.

A small smile on her face, the Doctor shifted, pulling Yaz further into her arms. She wanted to be able to keep that serenity on her face, to relieve her even the tiniest bit. Barcelona, she thought. Those dogs really would bring a smile to Yaz’s face.