Zepheera waited patiently for the Doctor to return to the TARDIS. This was his last stop, his last chance to see Rose Tyler, so it was understandable that he would be taking his time. But as the minutes dragged on, she began to wander the console aimlessly, wondering if something had happened to him.
A voice came to her head, giving her pause. They were singing in Latin. She had no idea where the song was coming from, but somehow she knew every word as they came, and who it was all for.
She didn’t realize she’d been singing along until the doors of the TARDIS opened and closed heavily, and she held her tongue. The Doctor leaned wearily on the doors. After a breath or two, he made his way up the slight incline to the main platform of the room, relying on the short railing. This alone sent an icy pang of worry through Zepheera’s stomach.
The way he moved, even in an action as simple as shedding his coat and tossing it onto its typical support, made it clear to her that everything hurt. He hesitated, lifting his right hand to eye level. Regeneration energy flowed from it as he turned his wrist, watching golden streaks dance around his fingers. After a moment he curled the hand into a loose fist and let it hang by his side, turning to the console to lock eyes with his four and a half inch tall companion.
It wouldn’t be long now, and they both knew it.
“So…What happens now?” The borrower knew well enough by now the technical details of regeneration, but she wasn’t sure if she should say something meaningful or sing that song that was still going in the back of her head. She didn’t know if a goodbye was in order since he’d still be the Doctor at the end of the day, just a little different.
The Doctor made his way laboriously around the console, passing Zepheera by entirely. “Now…I’m taking you home,” he said steadily.
Zepheera followed him, frowning in confusion. Disregarding the fact that she didn’t have a home outside the TARDIS, she went straight for the important question.
“Why? Did I do something wrong?”
This stopped him in his tracks and he sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the floor. “No, Zepheera, it’s not like that.”
“Then why can’t I stay?” she demanded.
“Because it’s not safe!” he snapped. He paused to catch his breath from the short outburst, then lowered himself to a kneel with evident effort. Then his brown eyes met her small deep violets. “I can feel it, Zepheera. I dunno how, but this one’s gonna be violent, I just know it. For all I know, I could destroy everything, and…I don’t want to risk you.”
Zepheera considered his words, never breaking eye contact. After a deep breath, she crossed her arms and planted her feet on the uneven surface of the console.
“I’ll be careful then,” she asserted. “You shouldn’t be alone for this. I always told you I’d be here for you, no matter what. That I’d never be afraid of you. I don’t care if you change your face, Doctor, I’m keeping that bloody promise.”
Even so, the Doctor looked conflicted, and his gaze wandered indecisively.
In the silence between them, Zepheera noticed the song in her head gaining momentum. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, she joined in with the chorus once again.
“Vale decem…”
The Doctor’s attention snapped back to the borrower. “You hear it, too,” he realized.
In answer, Zepheera smiled sadly as she sang. The words, though foreign to her, were a perfect representation of her feelings. It was a farewell, but also a comfort. The Doctor returned the smile and pushed himself to his feet. Clearly her mind would not be changed. And honestly, she was right. He needed the company.
Nunquam singularis…
He pulled the lever to send the TARDIS flying into orbit above the Earth. That gorgeous noise filled the air alongside the sound of the universe singing the Doctor to his sleep.
Nunquam…
He glanced down to find tears streaming down his small friend’s face, reaching a gentle hand to wipe them away. Zepheera, still singing, trembled at this contact, and before he could pull his finger away she grabbed hold of it, pulling it into a tight embrace.
Dum spiro fido…
It was only when his hand began to glow again that he pulled it away from her grasp. He ruffled her hair with a finger like he always used to, but without the usual humor, and walked to the other side of the console to separate himself from her. Zepheera just barely refrained from following, heeding his earlier warning, but as the chorus in her mind repeated vale over and over, she circled the other way to see his face one last time before it disappeared.
His breaths were shallow and his eyes were shining. “I don’t wanna go,” he declared, a small tremble in his voice. Regeneration energy surrounded his face and flowed from his hands with ever-growing intensity.
The song was over.
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Borrowed Time and Space 