Chapter Text
The room dissolved back into movement after that.
Slow movement.
Sleepy movement.
The kind that happened when nobody had properly recovered from emotional devastation OR spending nearly twenty-four hours in a blanket nest.
Amy disappeared first, loudly announcing she refused to wear “trauma pyjamas” outside the room.
River followed while stealing half the bathroom counter space before anyone else could claim it.
Rory continued trying to restore order to the disaster zone they’d created.
Which left: the Doctor, Ivy, and the slowly collapsing remains of the blanket pile.
The Doctor watched Ivy quietly as she shuffled toward the wardrobe still wrapped partially in one blanket like she was emotionally attached to it now.
Honestly? She probably was. The oversized t-shirt slipped slightly off her bandaged shoulder as she moved, fluffy socks dragging against the floor while her hair remained an absolutely impossible mess.
The Doctor softened instantly.
Ivy caught him staring halfway across the room. “…what?”
The Doctor blinked once like he’d forgotten he was doing it.
“You still look half asleep.”
“So do you.”
“I look wonderful.”
“You look emotionally compromised.”
The Doctor looked delighted by the insult.
Ivy rolled her eyes fondly and opened the wardrobe, then immediately froze.
The Doctor noticed at once. “What?”
Ivy stared into the wardrobe silently.
The Doctor crossed closer automatically.
Inside the wardrobe was:
- Ivy’s usual oversized hoodies,
- mechanic overalls,
- tool belts,
- grease-stained shirts,
- practical boots—
and suddenly after two straight days of softness and panic and being held together by everyone else, the sight of normal clothes felt oddly overwhelming.
The Doctor realised instantly.
Oh.
Leaving the room suddenly made everything real again.
Adventure. Universe. Danger. People outside the safety of the blanket nest.
Ivy’s shoulders curled slightly inward.
The Doctor moved beside her quietly, not touching yet. “Too much?”
Ivy exhaled slowly through her nose. “…little bit.”
The honesty hurt, because she sounded frustrated with herself for it.
The Doctor’s expression gentled immediately. “Hey. You nearly died this week.”
Ivy looked sideways toward him.
The Doctor leaned lightly against the wardrobe beside her. “You’re allowed to feel wobbly about re-entering civilisation.”
“Civilisation is dramatic.”
“So are you.”
“Rude.”
“True though.”
Ivy huffed the tiniest laugh.
The Doctor watched her for another second before reaching into the wardrobe himself.
Dangerous move.
Because immediately Ivy looked suspicious.
The Doctor ignored her expertly and pulled out: one enormous dark hoodie, comfortable cargo trousers, and her worn mechanic boots. Then held them out toward her.
Ivy blinked slowly. “…you know which hoodie’s my favourite?”
The Doctor looked briefly caught off guard by the question, then softer: “…yeah.”
Oh.
That hit harder than expected, because of course he knew.
He noticed everything about her now.
Ivy took the clothes quietly from his hands.
Their fingers brushed.
Tiny thing.
But the Doctor still visibly softened at the contact.
Catastrophic alien.
He glanced toward the bathroom where Amy and River were still loudly arguing about eyeliner before lowering his voice slightly. “You don’t have to be okay immediately, you know.”
Ivy looked down at the hoodie in her arms.
The Doctor continued gently: “We can leave again if it gets too much.”
The simplicity of the offer nearly hurt.
No pressure. No disappointment.
Just: we stay if you need.
Ivy swallowed hard once before looking back toward him, and because apparently honesty had become infectious in this family now, she admitted quietly: “…think I wanna try.”
The Doctor’s entire face softened.
Not proud. Not relieved.
Just warm.
“There she is,” he murmured softly.
Ivy smiled faintly despite herself, then, before she could lose courage, she stepped closer suddenly and tugged lightly at the front of his shirt.
The Doctor blinked.
Ivy fixed his collar automatically.
Straightened the fabric. Adjusted it carefully.
Tiny mechanic movements. Precise. Gentle.
The Doctor stopped breathing for approximately one full second.
Because there it is again - love through repair.
Ivy finished adjusting the collar and looked up instinctively.
The Doctor was already looking at her like she’d personally rearranged the stars.
“…what?” she asked quietly.
The Doctor swallowed once.
Then very softly: “Nothing.”
Lie.
Absolute lie.
Getting everyone fully dressed and out of the room took significantly longer than it should have.
Mostly because:
- Amy kept changing outfits halfway through conversations,
- River disappeared twice and reappeared wearing completely different jackets,
- the Doctor got distracted fixing a scanner with Ivy on the floor for twenty minutes,
- and Rory had to repeatedly remind people the universe would not, in fact, pause itself for them.
The TARDIS corridors felt strangely bright after so long hidden away in Ivy’s room.
Not unpleasant.
Just different.
The Doctor noticed Ivy slowing slightly the first moment they stepped properly into the corridor outside.
Tiny hesitation.
The kind nobody else would’ve caught.
Nobody except him, and without a word, his hand brushed lightly against hers as they walked.
Not grabbing. Not demanding.
Just: still here.
Ivy’s fingers curled around his automatically.
The Doctor visibly relaxed.
Amy caught the movement instantly from ahead of them and made the most emotional noise imaginable. Rory physically dragged her onward before she could start yelling about feelings again.
The console room opened around them a few moments later in warm gold and blue light.
The Doctor slowed automatically, because god — after everything that had happened recently, the TARDIS suddenly felt different.
Not lonely anymore.
Alive in a fuller way.
Amy immediately bounded toward the console. “Right! Where are we going?”
River leaned casually against one of the railings. “Somewhere with decent coffee hopefully.”
“Somewhere with sunlight,” Rory added firmly.
The Doctor looked thoughtful for exactly half a second before his entire face lit up with dangerous excitement.
Ivy recognised that expression immediately.
“So,” the Doctor announced brightly, already bouncing toward the controls, “I may know a place.”
Rory sighed. “That sentence never ends well.”
“Kethra-9!”
Silence.
River looked delighted instantly. “Oh, absolutely not.”
Amy looked excited. “Oh, absolutely yes.”
Ivy blinked slowly. “…what’s Kethra-9?”
The Doctor turned toward her with the expression of a man about to introduce someone to heaven itself. “Oh, you are going to LOVE this place.”
Rory looked deeply concerned. “That’s not reassuring.”
The Doctor ignored him completely and launched fully into explanation mode. “Massive trade world built from centuries of abandoned ships. Mechanical markets, scrap towers, engine bazaars, temporal salvage—”
Ivy’s eyes widened slightly.
The Doctor noticed immediately, and grinned. “There it is,” he said delightedly. “Knew that’d get you.”
Ivy was already mentally gone. “Wait,” she interrupted suddenly. “Like actual ship graveyards?”
“Oh enormous ones.”
“With salvage?”
“Yes.”
“And illegal tech?”
“Terribly illegal.”
Ivy looked personally delighted now.
The Doctor physically softened watching it happen, because there she was again: bright-eyed mechanic gremlin Ivy.
Alive. Interested. Curious about the universe again.
The Doctor’s hearts ached softly with relief.
Amy looked between them knowingly. “Oh no. There’s two of them.”
“Always was,” River murmured quietly.
The Doctor and Ivy had already completely forgotten the rest of the room existed.
“Do they have pre-collapse engine cores?” Ivy asked immediately.
The Doctor gasped softly. “Oh, excellent question.”
Rory watched the two of them start talking over each other about alien mechanics and visibly reconsidered every decision leading to this moment.
Amy leaned toward him. “They’re soulmates but specifically in the way raccoons are soulmates with bins.”
Rory nodded tiredly. “That feels medically accurate.”
Meanwhile the Doctor was already throwing levers enthusiastically while Ivy hovered practically against his shoulder now, both of them talking rapidly about scrap tech and impossible engines.
The TARDIS hummed warmly beneath them.
Happy.
Because for the first time in days, the ship could feel it too:
they were finally moving forward again.
The journey to Kethra-9 was chaos.
Predictably.
The Doctor and Ivy had completely taken over the console room within minutes of setting course.
Not romantically.
Worse.
Mechanically.
Amy eventually ended up sprawled across one of the jump seats watching the two of them bounce around the console while talking so fast neither of them seemed entirely aware they were communicating mostly in half-finished sentences now.
“If the salvage districts are still active near the lower sectors then the relay systems might still have—”
“—pre-collapse wiring architecture, yeah, unless the pulse storms fried the older circuitry—”
“Unless they shielded with copper lattice instead of silver mesh—”
“Which they WOULD because the Kethrans were cheap.”
“Exactly!”
The Doctor looked genuinely delighted someone had followed that sentence.
Ivy looked equally thrilled someone had finished her thought.
Rory looked exhausted already. “They’re getting worse.”
River smiled over the top of her book. “No, they’re bonding.”
Amy pointed dramatically. “Through garbage.”
“Through engineering,” the Doctor corrected without even looking up.
Ivy snorted softly beside him while leaning over the console examining the TARDIS scanner readings with intense concentration.
The Doctor immediately got distracted watching her instead, because she looked happy. Not pretending, not forcing it, actually engaged and alive.
The Doctor leaned slightly closer automatically, pointing toward one of the rotating displays. “See there? That lower ring’s the salvage market.”
Ivy followed the movement immediately, shoulder brushing lightly against his.
Neither reacted anymore.
The physical closeness had become frighteningly natural.
“Oh my god,” Ivy breathed quietly as the image sharpened.
The holographic display expanded across the console: enormous wrecked ships stacked vertically across miles of canyon-city, glowing market lights strung between rusted hulls, suspended bridges, steam vents, moving cranes, tiny distant transport crafts weaving through the structures.
The place looked alive.
Messy. Industrial. Dangerous.
Perfect.
Ivy looked fully gone now.
The Doctor visibly melted watching her expression. “There she is,” he murmured softly.
Ivy didn’t even notice he’d spoken, too busy staring.
Amy eventually wandered over beside them and looked at the scanner. “…that place looks like tetanus.”
“It’s magnificent,” the Doctor and Ivy said simultaneously.
Silence.
Then both looked at each other.
Amy physically walked away. “Nope.”
River looked delighted. “They really are the same person.”
Rory pointed at the scanner cautiously. “Why are there warning symbols flashing?”
The Doctor glanced toward the screen. “Oh, those.”
Rory stared. “What do you mean oh those?”
“Minor instability.”
“Doctor.”
“Very minor.”
Ivy squinted toward the display. “…those are weapons trafficking warnings.”
The Doctor looked briefly impressed. “You read Kethran?”
“…pictures.”
“Fair.”
Rory looked increasingly alarmed. “We’re not going somewhere dangerous immediately after the week we’ve had.”
The Doctor opened his mouth.
Ivy beat him to it. “We absolutely are.”
The Doctor looked at her with something perilously close to pride.
Amy groaned loudly. “Oh brilliant. Now there’s two suicidal idiots.”
“We’re not suicidal,” the Doctor protested.
River raised one eyebrow. “You ran into an exploding reactor.”
“That was emotionally motivated.”
“THAT’S WORSE,” Rory yelled.
The TARDIS landed with a heavy metallic shudder before anyone could continue the argument. The entire console room vibrated softly as ancient engines groaned around them.
And immediately everything changed.
The Doctor straightened slightly.
Still warm. Still soft around Ivy.
But sharper now too.
Alert.
Adventure mode.
Ivy noticed instantly, and horrifyingly? Something inside her responded immediately too.
The Doctor looked toward the doors with dangerous excitement lighting up his face. “Kethra-9.”
Amy stood slowly. “Last chance to say this is a terrible idea.”
Nobody moved.
River smirked faintly. “Excellent.”
The Doctor bounded toward the doors, then stopped suddenly, turned back, and held one hand out automatically toward Ivy.
Like it was the most natural thing in the universe.