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“Ryan, I need you to grab that lever over there, Yaz, this one. Graham, guard the door? I'll be over there pulling the final shutdown lever. On three, okay? One. Two. Three.”
Under the flashing purple lights and the blaring alert siren, the Doctor worries for a moment that her fam won't have heard her instructions right, but then the lights flick to a steady amber.
“Self-destruct cancelled,” says a soothing robotic voice. “Thank you for visiting Science Base 8. Please enjoy your day.”
Everybody breathes a sigh of relief.
“Nice one, Doc,” approves Graham.
“Couldn't have done it without you. Everyone okay?”
“I'm fine,” Graham confirms.
“All good,” says Ryan.
“Great,” says Yaz with an adrenaline-spiked grin.
“Excellent,” the Doctor says, beaming. “Let's get back to the TARDIS.”
And then it happens.
Ryan steps away from the control panel and trips on a bolt not tightened fully into the floor. He stumbles into Graham, who stumbles into Yaz, who stumbles into the Doctor.
The Doctor, caught on the wrong foot, lurches sideways and falls against a large lever.
A beam of light comes from overhead and the Doctor is caught inside it for a long moment, unable to move. She meets Yaz's horrified eyes, and then it's over and Yaz is catching her as she falls.
There's so much noise, and all of it is her. That's strange. It feels like her thoughts have burst out of her head and are blaring around the console room.
Squinting, she sits up. The world is blurry, but she is back on the TARDIS, the ship's consciousness brushing soothingly against her own.
“Oh, another one's awake,” Ryan calls, and he pops up in her line of sight, yellow beanie on top of blurry face.
“Another one?” she asks. “Another what?”
“Another Doctor,” he tells her. “You're the fourth one to wake up. There's eleven of you all together. Any chance you're the original? Cos the other three don't seem quite right.”
“I'm pretty sure I am,” she says. “What did the others say?”
“They were less sure,” Ryan tells her. “Plus they're a bit… weird. Weirder than normal, I mean.”
“In what way?” she asks, struggling to her feet and pulling what she imagines are quite ridiculous faces trying to sort out what she's seeing around her but getting nowhere.
“Well, er… why are you lookin’ like that?”
“Can't really see,” she tells him. “It's happened before, but for different reasons. Hopefully this is just a temporary side effect of the unidentified phenomenon. So, how are the others weird?”
“We ‘ad to lock one up,” Graham announces from right behind her, and she flinches. “She kept threatening us and trying to break stuff. Other than that, she's charming.”
She frowns. “Right. And the others?”
“One of them is hiding under the kitchen table,” Ryan says. “She whimpers if there's any noises an’ she's rocking with her eyes closed.”
“Well, sounds like she's bad for me street cred,” the Doctor jokes, trying to put the pieces together. “Number three?”
“Er…” Graham clears his throat. “We'd better let you see that one for yourself. She's in the library with Yaz.”
She blinks, looking between him and Ryan, who has a little smirk on his face. “Alright. Keep an eye out for the others? The TARDIS will notify me if I'm needed.”
She affects her usual walk to exit the console room, but as soon as she's out of sight she slows, extending a hand to drag along one of the walls. “I really can't see well enough,” she mutters. “Help me?”
Her ship gives a comforting croon, and then there are amber lights glowing bright along the walls. She follows them, and gradually her eyesight seems to adjust until it's almost up to her usual standards. She chuckles to herself with relief until she reaches the library and opens the door, peering inside.
“An’ then there's how brave you are,” said a voice a lot like hers. “You make me feel -”
“Doctor!” Yaz yelps.
The Doctor steps into the room, locating Yaz and her copycat in front of the fireplace. To her amazement, the duplicate is on one knee, holding up a ring.
The other Doctor springs to her feet, spreading out her arms in front of Yaz to protect her. “Who are you?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Far as I can tell, I'm you. Just with more than one personality trait.”
Yaz steps away from the duplicate, coming to stand with the Doctor. “Does that mean she's a part of you?”
The Doctor keeps her eyes on her other self, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Yep.”
She can hear Yaz's smirk. “Interesting. What about the others?”
She sighs. “Them too. As far as I can guess, my anger and my fear. And then… all the others. I wonder if any of them are awake yet.”
“Let's go see,” Yaz suggests, then stiffens as a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and a head comes to rest on her shoulder.
“I'm comin’ too,” says the duplicate.
“Of course you are,” the Doctor mutters. “Give her space to move though, won't you? I know you wouldn't like her to trip over because you're acting like a clingy koala person.”
“Okay,” the duplicate says, stepping away at once.
Yaz looks at the Doctor, gesturing between them. “ We ,” she says, “Are going to be talking about this later.”
Blushing again, she nods. “I expect we are.”
When the Doctor(s) and Yaz approach the console room, they’re struck by the rumble of voices - much more than they’re used to, and mostly variations on the Doctor’s voice. They exchange wary glances (except for the duplicate, who’s too busy making heart eyes at Yaz to pay attention) and carry on in.
“Stars,” she mutters to herself.
Seven more of herself turn to look at her.
“Whoa,” Yaz whispers.
“You,” one of the Doctors says, her features twisting into rage. She strides up the steps towards them, glaring at the original Doctor the whole way. Before any of them know how to react, the duplicate’s hands are around her neck and she’s being lifted into the air. Her legs are kicking and there’s voices shouting as her respiratory bypass kicks in, and then she’s dropping to the ground on top of the murderous version of herself whilst another one stands over them with no expression on her face.
Her saviour nods and walks away, leaving the Doctor to scramble to her feet. The attacker stays down, silent but glaring, her eyes never straying from the Doctor's face.
“Will she stay down?” Graham asks.
“For twenty minutes or so,” the Doctor says.
“What's this all about, Doctor?” Graham asks.
The mouths of several of the gathered Doctors open, but she holds up a hand and they drop into silence. “Basically, far as I can tell, when I got caught in that beam it seems to have caused my personality to manifest and fracture, so each copy is basically one facet of me incarnate.”
“Well, of course,” Graham says with a nod. “Manifest personality traits, I was just saying to Ryan that's what it was.”
“No you weren't.”
“Shh, son, gimme a chance to look smart.”
“How do we know which one is which?” Ryan asks.
“Good question,” the Doctor says, looking round.
Yaz laughs and walks to the console, leaning in to press a few buttons and muttering into a microphone.
The TARDIS whirs and clunks and then spits out something underneath the console. Yaz crouches down and then comes back up with a victorious smile and a handful of rainbow coloured lanyards.
“Ooh, gold star to Yaz,” the Doctor says, making “gimme” gestures with her hands.
“Hold on a sec,” Yaz says. She pulls a pencil stub from her jacket pocket and uses it to scrawl something on one of the lanyards before she gives it.
The Doctor takes it and reads “Original.” She pulls a face. “This is like being called Ready Salted.” Still, she loops it round her neck and smiles at Yaz. “Thank you.”
“What do we call the others?” Graham asks.
“I guess just the characteristic they have?” Yaz suggests.
The Doctor takes another lanyard and writes “Self-Loathing” and places it round the neck of the floorbound duplicate, who curls a lip at her. “We're gonna have to lock this one up too,” she says, pulling an apologetic face at her. “I know I do a lot of me best work under pressure but a clone of myself who wants to kill me is takin’ it a bit far.”
“Alright,” Yaz says. “Ry, help me lift her?”
The two of them drag Self-Loathing from the room.
“Hey, Graham?” the Doctor asks. “Wanna help me identify myself?”
He laughs and joins her as they walk to one of the duplicates who has opened up the doors and is sitting dangling her legs outside.
“Alright, cockle?” Graham asks.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” the duplicate says, turning round to give them a wide smile.
I really am pretty cute, the Doctor thinks. “It’s stunning,” she says.
The duplicate springs to her feet. “I have an idea! We should go to that nebula we like that’s like 18.4 sperrels from Octavius.” She dashes towards the console and the Doctor catches her by the wrist.
“No, we’re stayin’ put while we figure this out.”
“But there's so much to see,” the duplicate complains. “We can't stay in one place, we'll miss so much. The fam have such short lives -”
Graham hands over a lanyard to the duplicate who puts it on without pausing. The Doctor nods at the label “Loves the Universe” and gives her arm a little shake. “I get it, but no.” She looks at the console. “Lock her out, please.”
A few lights dim to red around the room, and Loves the Universe looks annoyed. She folds her arms. “Fine,” she snaps “Your loss. I'll be in the doorway.”
Yaz and Ryan return without their prisoner, Yaz holding the hand of the clingy duplicate. Ryan grabs one of the lanyards and, smirking, scrawls “Loves Yaz” on one and drapes it around the unprotesting clone’s neck. The Doctor blushes and doesn't look at any of her friends, instead focusing on a duplicate across the room who's watching them all with a wistful expression.
Graham follows her gaze and then walks over. “Hiya Doc, you okay?”
The duplicate beams at him, her whole face lighting up. “Graham! I'm great, thank you for asking. How are you? Is there anythin’ I can do for you?”
“I'm, um, okay thank you,” he says, shooting a startled look at the Doctor.
“I've been thinking, actually, an’ you know how back after the wiggly flying fingers you said you were worried about your health?”
“Yeah,” he smiles. “You came over really awkward.”
“I got so swept up in the socially awkward side of things, wantin’ to make you feel better, I forgot about the practical. The TARDIS has a really decent scanner; we can actually do regular checks if you want to make sure the cancer hasn't returned.”
His jaw drops. “Seriously?” He glances at the Doctor, who gives him a guilty nod. She'd been meaning to bring it up with him again. “Blimey, Doc, that's a hell of a thing to overlook.”
“I know, I'm sorry Graham. I've had a lot on my mind lately an’ it all got a bit much.”
“You know we're here,” he says, looking back at the real Doctor. “When you're ready to talk about it.”
“We know,” the duplicate says, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. “Ooh! Y'know what we should do? Slumber party! Or… boardgame night! The 2153 edition of Ticket to Ride Europe is legendary. I'd just really like to spend some time with all three of you. Reconnect.”
“That sounds lovely, Doc.” He takes a lanyard and writes “Loves the Fam” and gives it to her. “We'll do our best to do that when this is all over, eh?”
He nudges the real Doctor with his elbow as he walks back to the others, and she drops her head between her shoulders, feeling overwhelmed. Yaz seems to sense it. “Right, who next? I think we can keep Inner Rage and Self-Loathing locked away. Some of us better than others.” She winks - actually winks - at the Doctor, and she knows she’s been embarrassed before but she’s struggling to remember a time when she was more than she is right now.
“What about that one?” Ryan says, pointing to the one who had immobilised Self-Loathing. “She creeps me out a bit,” he adds in a whisper.
“I know who she is,” the Doctor says, watching her staring blankly at the console. “She doesn’t feel needed right now so she’s preserving her energy.” She writes “Cold Logic” and chucks the lanyard at the duplicate, who picks it up and puts it on without changing her expression. “She has her uses but we should keep an eye on her. She'll do what needs to be done, but without other personality traits to hold her back, she won't balance the cost properly.”
“Noted,” Graham whispers. He gives a little shiver. “Um, we're missing a couple of Doctors.”
“I'm here!” comes the Doctor's voice from the corridor. One of the duplicates tumbles into the console room, bent double under the weight of numerous beach bags. She's wearing large fake glasses in the shape of stars and a big floppy straw hat over a massive Hawaiian shirt with an extra pair of arm holes. “You'll never guess what I found!”
“The contents of three wardrobes, by the looks of it,” Ryan said.
The duplicate beams at him. “There's only one wardrobe, Ryan, but I found So. Many. Things.”
“Yay?” Yaz says.
“Yes yay!” Beaming, the duplicate reaches into the first beach bag and produces…
“Crocs?” Graham asks.
“Yeah, Graham! Aren't they amazin’! Look at me feet!”
They all look down to see her feet, under the traditional short trousers and over the traditional fluffy socks, are clad in lime green Crocs with around 24 charms attached.
“Wow,” says Yaz after a moment.
The Doctor is conflicted. On the one hand, judging from the fam's reaction, Crocs are not… cool?
On the other hand…
“I really like ‘em,” she says.
The other Doctor's grin grows impossibly wider.
“This is a bit weird, isn't it?” Ryan mutters to Yaz.
The Doctor pretends she doesn't have superior hearing and lies back in the sand, kicking her feet into the air to admire her rainbow Crocs. “I can't believe you two aren't joining in,” she calls.
“We're good with our own shoes, thanks,” Yaz tells her, trying to pretend Loves Yaz isn't massaging her shoulders right now. Still, she lets slip a throaty little moan that has the Doctor's hearts quickening.
“She means we wouldn't be seen dead in those,” Ryan translates.
“Hey, don't knock it til you've tried it, sunshine,” Graham scolds, admiring the plaid patterned clogs on his feet. “These are really comfy.” He looks around the room in the TARDIS that's basically a giant sandpit under a fake sun. “Where did Goofball go?”
“I think she went looking for a Frisbee,” the Doctor says, putting on a copy of her old sonic sunglasses. “Cold Logic and Scientist said they can handle the thinking for a bit and let us take a break. And I thought… y'know, we could actually really do with a break. It's been a bit mad lately.”
“You can say that again,” Graham grumbles.
“Shouldn't we go search for Fear?” Yaz asks, then pauses. “Well, that were a weird question.”
“Trust me,” the Doctor says, thinking of the childlike version of herself who's creeping around the TARDIS and hiding under tables. “She'd rather we left her alone. She's terrified of all of us. She doesn't have it in her to be reassured.”
“You do, though,” Yaz says, watching her with those eyes that see all the things she wishes they wouldn't. “You could let us.”
“Fam!” Goofball bounds up to them, holding a spiky ball. “I couldn't find a Frisbee but I found this, an’ I wanna teach you to play!”
“Will you take the Crocs off?” Ryan asks.
“Ryan,” Goofball gasps. “I could never betray my principles so badly.”
“Then -”
“He'll play,” Graham interrupts. “The Doc needs to talk to Yaz.”
“I do?” she asks.
“You do,” Yaz confirms softly.
“I do,” the Doctor tells Ryan.
“It's like you all just got married,” Goofball giggles. “Come on, Graham, Ryan, I wanna teach you to play Hoffball.”
“Hoffball?” Graham asks.
“Yeah, it's named after David Hasselhoff, obviously. How you play is…”
As the rest of the fam disappear behind a sand dune, the Doctor shoots a furtive glance at Yaz.
“Has anyone got any paper?” Loves Yaz asks. “An’ a pencil?”
With a sigh, the Doctor picks up her coat and rummages through the pockets, coming up with a sketchbook and charcoal and tossing it to her duplicate, who moves a few feet away and begins staring at Yaz. Ignoring her, the Doctor shuffles closer to the younger woman. “Yaz, I -”
“Where are Ryan an’ Graham?” one of the Doctors interrupts. The original glances up to find Loves the Fam bouncing on the balls of feet and looking around hopefully. “Goofball said -”
“They're over there,” the Doctor interrupts, gesturing in the direction the others had taken.
The duplicate takes a few steps then hesitates. “Yaz? You not playin’?”
“Bit tired,” Yaz says with a soft smile. “Thought I'd sit this one out.”
“Alright,” she says, scronching her face. “If you're sure. Would you like me to scan you, make sure you're alright?”
“She is fine ,” the Doctor snaps. “I'm keeping an eye on her. Would you please just leave us alone? It's bad enough we've got that one.” She gestures to Love Yaz, whose eyes are flickering between Yaz and her paper, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth (she thinks Loves Yaz might be her least favourite of the duplicates, but she doesn't want to think about why).
“Doctor,” Yaz scolds with a slight smirk. “Be kind to yourself.”
She huffs and throws herself backwards into the sand, folding her arms across her chest. “That's never been one o’ my strengths.”
“No kidding,” Yaz mutters. There's a shuffling noise and suddenly she's at the Doctor's side, lying down next to her. The Doctor rolls over to face her, taking in serious eyes that are so gentle she could cry. She gestures at Loves Yaz, who is still deeply immersed in her art (the Doctor has a bad feeling about the art. There is a reason the duplicate is called Loves Yaz rather than Loves Yaz And Is Also Excellent at Drawing). “What's this all about?”
“Um, well, she's drawing you because she thinks you're really pretty?” the Doctor tries.
Yaz blinks at her, unimpressed.
The Doctor takes a deep breath, looking into Yaz's eyes. “She's seen the births and deaths of civilisations. She's seen the universe rise an’ fall. She's seen half the tourist spots in the universe, met the most beautiful people in history, seen the most spectacular works of art in the multiverse… and she'd trade it all for a glimpse of your smile.” She smirks, trying to cover the feeling of holding out her hearts. “She's a bit sappy.”
“Oh,” Yaz says. She glances between the Doctor and her duplicate, and it feels like the Doctor can see cogs whirring in her brain. “Me? Really?”
The disbelief on Yaz's face causes the Doctor's face to scrunch ( scronch, she thinks, when the others do it I've been calling it scronching) and without being told a hand reaches to touch Yaz's cheek. “Do you not see yourself?” she asks. “You're so calm, so competent. I thought you knew you were spectacular.”
Her skin is so soft against the Doctor's hand, and her eyes flutter shut. “I'm just a person,” she whispers.
“We're all just people,” the Doctor says.
Yaz opens her eyes and takes the Doctor's hand, holding it in place against her cheek. “Why didn't you tell me?”
She sighs. “I'm pretty sure the reason is hiding under a sofa in the third library right now.”
Yaz frowns. “You're scared? How… You're never afraid of anythin’.”
The Doctor smiles at her. “There is literally a woman running around this spaceship unable to speak or function as a person that shows how much fear I have, sweetheart. I’m amazed there’s just one. I have thousands - billions - of years of fear. I’m one of the most afraid people in existence. Which makes me one o’ the most dangerous.”
“Alright, bighead,” Yaz whispers. “I would like to kiss you. Try not to panic.”
Despite the teasing command, the Doctor's heart is racing for more than one reason as Yaz shuffles closer, and then she has four eighteenths of a second of bliss before Ryan shows up.
“Doctor, Scientist says she's ready, she sent Loves the Universe to tell us. Incidentally, Loves the Universe thinks this is a really great room but she has 53.75 places she'd rather show us. Whoa, you guys are kissin’, I'll leave.”
Their lips don't part for the whole of Ryan's visit, and the Doctor processes his arrival and departure with one part of her mind while everything else focuses on the feeling of Yaz. Her body sings in delight as her inner scientist analyses the taste of her. The storm of her fear falls quiet along with the voice that tells her she doesn't deserve this.
“Okay, I left and came back, an’ you’re still doing it,” Ryan announces, sounding smug. “Also, Loves Yaz is just sittin’ there crying.”
They finally break apart, turning in sync to look at the duplicate, who has cast aside her drawing and is staring at them with tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Yaz asks.
Loves Yaz sniffs. “It’s just all so much. I’m happy for me an’ jealous of me, because I want to be the me that gets to kiss you.”
“Soon you will be,” the Doctor assures her. “I think. Unless the plan is just cullin’ the duplicates, which sounds cruel.”
“It’s okay,” Loves the Universe says as she pokes her head through the door. “No culling. I checked. It’s more… reintegration.”
“Oh goody,” the Doctor says. “Time for some group bonding.”
It takes Yaz half an hour and a tranquiliser gun to get Fear under control. She carries her into the console room in a bridal carry, her eyes soft as she stares at the duplicate’s sleeping face. She places her at the Doctor's feet then throws her arms around the Time Lord.
The Doctor yelps in surprise then winds her arms around the younger woman's waist, tucking her face into her neck to breathe her in. “Not complainin’, but what brought this on?”
“Let me help you carry it,” Yaz pleads. “The fear. I can help you, if you'll let me in.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but at that moment Graham and Ryan return with Self-Loathing. They've gagged her - apparently the theory that she needs to be kinder to herself is contagious - but the way she glares at the Doctor renders speech unnecessary.
Yaz steps up and jabs the duplicate in the sternum with a pointed finger. “Listen, you,” she growls. “You have to stop this. She does her best. She always does her best. And nobody can win in every way all of the time. So when you're all back together, when you're back inside her brain telling her that nothing that she does, that she is , is ever enough? I am coming for you. I will root you out wherever you take hold, because she does not deserve this. Alright?” She pats the duplicate on the head. “Good chat.”
The Doctor stares at her, mouth hanging open.
“Have we got everybody?” Scientist asks. She pushes the glasses up the bridge of her nose and looks around, taking in the sleeping Fear and the shackled Rage, the way Loves Yaz is sitting with her arms wrapped around herself in melancholy, and the way Loves the Fam is trying to take a photo of everybody. “Looks like. Right, manifest personality traits, Doctor, stay put. Humans please go stand in the corridor.”
There's a shuffling as the fam obey, then it's just copies of the Doctor all in one place. She looks around at herself all over the console room, something that wouldn't usually be possible without a very gory explosion. “Travel hopefully,” she whispers.
Cold Logic pulls a lever.
And then there's golden light, then darkness.
This time, when she wakes, her head is resting in Yaz's lap and warm fingers are stroking through her hair. “Hi,” she whispers. “Party all gone?”
“Back where they belong,” Yaz confirms, tapping her on the temple.
The Doctor pulls herself upright and yawns. “At least I can see this time.” She looks up at Ryan and Graham. “I'm sorry. All of you. I've been… working on some things. But Loves the Fam is telling me I need to do better. So if we can go get a cup of tea an’ some biscuits…” She pauses, swallowing. “I'll tell you about the Master. And Gallifrey. I'll be better, for all of you.”
“And for you,” Yaz reminds her. “Let us help you.”
She smiles - it's shaky, but it's there. “I'll try, Yaz. I promise.”
“Doctor?” Ryan asks. “Is there any chance you could take the Crocs off now?”
She beams up at him. “Oh, Ryan. Why would I do that?”
“They're, um… a bit embarrassing,” he tries.
“Won't it be difficult for you to run?” Yaz asks, taking a different approach.
She rolls her eyes at them both. “Sports mode, Yaz.” She takes off one Croc and adjusts the strap then puts it back on. “Bring it on, universe. Got me Crocs in sports mode.”