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Aether sighs heavily. “I suppose this is goodbye, then.” His voice is solemn, and Amber is sent reeling.
“What do you mean?” She laughs nervously, like she knows it’s the joke she hopes it is. “We’re fine, right? We both made it out alive, and I don’t want to stop travelling with you.” He doesn’t answer, frowning at the console. Something dreadful settles in her gut. “You didn’t make it out alive, did you? Or, not for long.”
“Oh, no. Definitely alive, mostly.” He starts pacing, flicking switches, pressing buttons. “But, well... things won’t really be the same anymore.”
“How won’t they? Nothing... nothing life-changing happened, I’m still the same person, and so are you, so...” She stops, frustrated, unable to find the words. “What do you mean, Aether?”
He simply smiles, small, unreadable. “We all change, Amber. Every day, like the wind, always new but always the same.” Aether doubles over, coughing. “For people like me, though,” he says once the fit stops, “it’s a little more literal.”
“But... you’re not gonna die, are you?” She asks, worried.
“In some senses, I will. But I’ll still be me, in my heart.” The reassurance is hampered by another bout of dry, heavy coughs, leaving him doubled over the console. “And I’ll always remember the time I was me. The time I had this face.”
“You’re not making sense.” Amber steps back nervously, voice and feet unsteady.
“When have I ever?” He replies, giving a wry smile. “And... change rarely makes sense until you’re on the other side, anyway.” He swallows, taking a few steps back. “I suppose my time is up, regardless.” He undoes his braid, letting his hair fan out, like the day they’d first met. “See you on the other side, Amber.”
One last smile, and then his body seizes, a harsh glow blasting from his skin. Amber has to look away, covering her eyes.
“Aether?” She voices, once the light dies down. Any answers are interrupted by the floor underneath them pitching violently, sending Amber sprawling. She looks up to see a woman, slightly shorter than Aether, though wearing his clothes, desperately trying to keep her balance.
“Aether?” She asks again, more uncertain.
“Amber!” She gets as a response. The woman’s face brightens, goofily beaming at her in a way Aether would never do. “Okay, first, couple of things. Ooh, new voice. Anyway, um, more important first,” she says unsteadily, “organ, um, cleans your bloodstream, sort of here-ish,” she gestures at the lower part of her torso, “two of them, what is it called?”
“Kidney...?”
“Yes!” She shouts, as if the secrets of the universe have been revealed in that word. “Kidneys! I’ve got new ones!” She pauses for a moment. “Don’t tell them this, but I don’t like the colour.”
“Of. Of your kidneys.”
“Yup.” The woman scrambles to the controls, having solved this great problem. “Secondly, and it’s not that big a deal,” she says, almost definitely lying, “my memories are a bit fuzzy, so do you have any idea how to fly this thing?”
“And this was less important than the kidneys?!” Amber shouts, rushing towards her.
“That was a big deal, Amber!” She shouts back. “If you don’t know, it’s fine, muscle memory and all that, I’ll probably be okay.” She flashes a shaky grin. It’s not as reassuring as she likely intends. “Like riding a bike, except. Bigger, and technically needing more people, and also a lot worse if it crashes. Okay, not much like a bike, really, but in the cosmic sense they’re pretty close!”
“Who are you and what have you done with Aether?” Her (former?) companion never would have let himself be so unabashedly ridiculous, even in their most casual of moments.
“Good question, and, um, well.” The woman hurriedly... does something with the console; Amber’s hardly paying attention to anything she’s actually doing at this point, focussed entirely on what she’s saying. “The specifics are complicated, and I won’t go into them because I can’t remember right now, but basically I can... un-die? Yeah, let’s go with that, un-die, whenever I should die, but it means I change, uh, pretty significantly. Like, for example, getting boobs, so this top is really tight right now.” She does, indeed, have a significantly larger chest than Aether, and Amber stops that train of thought right there.
“Is there anything you can remember right now? ‘Cause so far I’m getting a lot of can’ts.”
“I remember you’re Amber, and my best friend,” she says immediately, looking up with soft, sincere eyes; it’s an expression subtler, smaller, than her others she’s shown so far, but no less radiant. “Also, side note, you’re really pretty, and I’m not sure how I didn’t notice that before.”
“I, um... thanks?” The floor stabilises underneath them, finally, and Amber feels some of the panic drain away.
“See! Like riding a massive, very deadly bike,” the woman proudly proclaims. “If I’ve done this right, we should be right outside Jean’s house, about five minutes after we last left. Maybe before, actually, but that’s not important.”
“I feel like it might be,” Amber responds, worry setting back in.
“We didn’t see a second Amber scurrying around with a regeneration-sick me, so it’ll be fine. Jean’s used to weird timey-wimey stuff,” she counters, before collapsing.
“So, what happened?” Jean asks, now that Aether is safely asleep in her spare bedroom and not out cold on the TARDIS floor.
“Well, Aether took a nasty fall on an adventure, and he was really out of shape. When we got back to the TARDIS, he... he started acting like I was never gonna see him again, even though he also said he wasn’t gonna die, and then... this.” She gestures at the sleeping woman, before a thought occurs. “By the way, what date is it?”
“10th of March, 2021,” Jean recites dutifully.
“Five months, then, okay,” Amber mutters.
“I assume I’ll have to keep this quiet for a while, then?” Jean’s mouth quirks slightly.
“Yup. Good thing you’re good at repression,” she jokes, before immediately clapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that, it’s just been a very-”
“It’s fine, Amber, I promise.” Jean stifles a laugh, poorly. “It’s hardly untrue, and I have been working on it.”
Amber whines, sinking down in her chair.
Further embarrassment is prevented by Aether very suddenly shooting awake. “Do you have any orange juice, ideally with pulp? I’m having cravings, sorry.”
Jean blinks slowly, turning to look at Amber. She shrugs. “This is just kind of how she’s been for the past while,” she says apologetically.
“I’ll be less of a disaster soon enough,” Aether chirps happily.
Jean shakes her head, getting up. “I'll get you your drink. You two need a talk, I think.”
Now alone, Amber feels significantly more awkward.
Aether breaks the silence. “I’m still me, Amber. Just a little... differently proportioned. And less sensible, if I’m honest. I don’t think I’ll be terribly less weird after this wears off.”
“How did we first meet, then?”
“I ran out of a changing room, with a frankly terrible selection of clothes on, asked you how I looked, and you told me my hair looked nice and also to pretty please change my outfit. And then the store exploded.” Aether smiles fondly at the memory. “It was fun.”
Amber lets out a shaky breath, before tackling her into a tight hug. “Are... are you crying?” Aether asks, patting her on the back slowly.
“Yeah.” She sniffles. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? That I’d lost my best friend, maybe ever, the only person who ever really got me? After you said all that stuff about being a different person, about how in some ways you’d die?”
“Listen, I used to be pretty dramatic, okay, and I was hardly in the most sensible frame of mind,” she replies defensively. “Oh, also, how close was I to five minutes after?”
“You ended up five months before,” Amber says, deadpan, pulling away and wiping her eyes.
“Let this be a lesson, then, Amber: Don’t regenerate and drive, it never ends well, for you or the poor beleaguered friend who now has to keep a secret from your past self for ages.” She tries to keep a serious face, but it cracks quickly, another from her seemingly endless font of grins seeping through.
“So... that’s what that was? Regeneration?”
“Yes. It’s a way for my people to stay alive longer, because we apparently need that despite living for hundreds of years anyway.” She scrunches her nose. “Never really understood it, myself, but it means more time with you, so I’m not complaining.”
“Then, this is what you look like now?”
“For the foreseeable future, yes.” She sighs. “Then again, I wasn’t my previous incarnation for all that long, so who knows how long I’ll be this one. Did you know, I knew you for about the entire time I was him? I met you... about an hour in, and, well, you saw him go.”
“That... wow.” Amber’s not entirely sure how to process that. “That would’ve been about a year, tops.”
“Far cry from five hundred and four, but variety’s the spice of life,” Aether says, grinning again.
“I don’t think you can say ‘every cloud has a silver lining’ to that,” Amber responds, decidedly less cheerily.
“Nonsense! It was a much happier year than most I’ve had, even if I didn’t really show it.” Her expression doesn’t budge an inch. “Best friends, remember? Hard to be bummed out about spending my whole life with her.”
“What happened last time, then? When you became how you were when I met you.”
“I just got old.” She shrugs. “We’ve got pretty long lifespans naturally, but they end eventually. It was my first regeneration, actually. This is face number three.”
“Will... oh, this is silly,” she whines, burying her face in her hands.
“Go on, Amber. No matter how silly, I’ll always give you an answer.” Aether’s voice is encouraging as ever, despite the much more whimsical lilt. It’s a constant in this tumult, and Amber cherishes it greatly.
“Will we still be able to travel together? I don’t want to give this up yet.”
“Of course! You can stay with me as long as you want, I told you. No matter how many faces I go through in our time together, that won’t change.” She says it sincerely, and Amber knows she means it, but the assurance isn’t enough to get rid of the fear completely.
Aether shifts slightly and yawns, stretching. “By the way, I’ve been thinking I want a new name. Something like...” She pauses. “Lumine. Yeah, Lumine. I like the sound of that.” She sounds out the name a few more times, and Amber thinks it fits well.
“Why a new name, though?” She asks, despite that, because she’s genuinely curious, and the change unnerves her slightly. It probably wouldn’t normally be an issue, but with all the other upheavals, she’s on edge.
“I just felt like it.” She shrugs. “Nothing more, and I don’t think there needs to be.”
Amber supposes that’s fair enough.
The two lapse into a comfortable silence, and Amber finds herself, despite her anxieties, relishing the fact that, for now, she can simply be with Lumine, no imminent danger or catastrophe required; she loves travelling with her, wouldn’t give it up for the world, at least not yet, but the strain got taxing sometimes. Lumine looks to be feeling similar, expression blissful and content, staring at nothing in particular and drumming her fingers against her legs.
“Are you two done talking?” Jean asks quietly, knocking at the door.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Amber answers, getting up to let her in. Jean offers a glass of juice to Lumine, whose face lights up almost comically as she takes it. She downs most of the drink in one go, somehow managing to keep any of it from spilling.
“Oh, that was excellent.” Lumine wipes her mouth. “Thanks, Jean, and hi! I’m Lumine.”
Jean, for her part, is remarkably unfazed by the display, simply nodding and sitting back where she had been before Lumine woke. “I’ll admit, I was wondering if you were keeping your other name. Clearly, that’s a no.” A smile ghosts across her face for a brief moment, and it makes her look much younger. Amber ignores that thought; it was no use reflecting on it, and Jean was legitimately getting better at not bottling up her burdens, even if she wouldn’t have made as much progress it at this point. “Would you be okay with me informing Lisa of this? I think she’s... better suited to helping you adjust, right now.”
“Sure,” Lumine answers. “She can keep a secret well. I mean, I didn’t know beforehand, so she has to.”
Jean nods. “That makes sense.” She rapidly taps at her phone, frowning. “I’m not sure how much to tell her over text, actually.”
“It’ll probably be easier to explain most of this with a visual aid,” Amber suggests, gesturing at Lumine. “Just... something like ‘an issue has come up regarding Aether that would benefit from your attention’ will work.”
“Was the impression strictly necessary.” Jean’s face is perfectly blank as she levels her gaze at Amber.
“You can’t say it’s inaccurate.” Lumine shrugs. “And, anyway, basically anything you say will get Lisa over here, she’s got it fierce for you.”
Jean sighs heavily. “I am extremely annoyed that you're correct right now.” She slips her phone back into her pocket. “She’ll be here soon. I suppose I should get myself somewhat more presentable.”
“Lisa has seen you in the middle of a nervous breakdown, presentability has never been an issue.”
Another sigh.
It’s barely twenty minutes before Lisa arrives, which is impressive because Amber knows the distance between their living spaces is a half-hour commute by bus and Lisa doesn’t have a car. “Well, Jean, what’s so urgent?” She asks, draping herself over the other woman as if it’s her natural state of being, which, at this point, really, it kind of was.
“I am! Hi, Lisa, I’m Lumine.” She waves cheerily.
“Ah,” Lisa answers. There’s something Amber can’t quite read in her expression, and she doesn’t look as surprised as Amber expected. “That is quite urgent. You’re going to need a pretty big overhaul on the wardrobe.”
“Of course that’s what you focus on,” Amber mutters, eliciting a giggle from Lumine, a stifled laugh from Jean, and a satisfied smirk from Lisa. “I should have some spare clothes you can borrow in the meantime,” she offers, ignoring these.
“They’ll be somewhere here, yes. The last time you stayed a while wasn’t too long ago for us.” Jean furrows her brow. “I’ll have to go find them, though.”
“I can handle that!” Amber leaps from her seat; sitting for so long was leaving her restless, so she appreciated the excuse to do something.
“Once that’s dealt with, we’ll need to go shopping.” Lisa drums her fingers against Jean’s shoulders, deep in thought. “And we’ll need to be careful not to let ourselves be seen by anyone we know while we do it; Aether would be recognised, but Lumine could lead to a lot of questions that would be awkward to answer.”
Amber doesn’t hear the rest of Lisa’s planning, leaving the room to search the house for where she used to keep her clothes; so much has happened since she was last here that she’s mostly forgotten, but she finds them eventually, picking out an outfit she thinks suits Lumine: a simple black tank top, red hoodie (and good god is most of her wardrobe red, she’s realising), and just as red skirt (she’s not sure why she gets the impression Lumine would like one to wear, but she does, and Amber certainly isn’t going to use them). She doesn’t put quite as much thought into the underwear, because that feels weird to her, simply picking out what she remembers being most comfortable.
She returns with her spoils to see Lumine finally out of bed, stretching her muscles, with Jean and Lisa both absent. “They said they wanted to give me some privacy,” she explains as Amber enters, offering the outfit to her. “Ooh, these look nice.”
“I’ll, uh. Give you some privacy too,” Amber says awkwardly, slinking out as Lumine begins undressing.
Now alone, and with nothing to distract her, the fears start creeping in again. She’s not normally one to overthink like this, throwing herself into whatever she did without reservation, always more willing to ask for an apology rather than permission. She reminds herself of this, breathes slowly, deeply. If the worst comes to pass, she’ll simply cross that bridge when she gets there.
It’s not as convincing as it needs to be, but it’s enough to keep her going for now.
When Lumine leaves the room, she looks, frankly, stunning, even if the clothes are clearly slightly too large for her. “The skirt was a good choice, honestly. I think I might go for a dress or something similar, I like how swishy they are.” She twirls to emphasise her point, smiling brightly.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Now that we’re all ready,” Lisa interjects, amused, “shall we get going?”
“Absolutely!” Lumine’s energy is infectious, Amber finds, as the woman hurries away, sweeping her in her wake. “I’ve never really been shopping before. The last time I tried, the store exploded.”
“I hope that’s not an omen for this trip,” Jean says wryly. “We’re trying to be at least somewhat subtle.”
“That honestly might kill me again,” Lumine replies, utterly seriously. “And then we’d have to do this whole series of shenanigans all over, and that would be quite tedious for all of us.”
“I don’t know,” Lisa drawls. “This has been rather fun, in my opinion.”
“As riveting as this conversation is,” Amber nearly yells, horrified at being the responsible one for once, “We’re getting distracted!”
“You’re no fun.” Lumine pouts, putting her hands on her hips. “But fine, let’s get going.”
They manage to get through the trip without anyone they know spotting them, barring Diluc, who had taken one look at them, said ‘No,” and left without another acknowledgement he had seen them at all. Amber is thankful, because by that point a lot had already happened, she was very tired, and she really did not think she could handle anything else.
Lumine hadn’t decided on a particular outfit yet, instead taking several with her to mull over at home, leaving Amber alone as she crashed on the bed in what was still, despite her long absence, considered her room in Jean’s house. She desperately wants to rest, but her mind is still running a mile a minute, so her exhaustion takes a backseat as she stares blankly at the ceiling.
Someone knocks softly at the door. “May I come in?” Lisa’s voice follows. Amber lets out a vague noise of affirmation, too exhausted for words. Fortunately, Lisa grasps her meaning and opens the door. “You've had better days, haven’t you,” she says jokingly, sitting on the bed beside her. Amber gives another groan, eliciting a soft chuckle. “What’s gotten you so tied into knots, then?”
“It’s... I’m worried,” she starts, and Lisa nods encouragingly. “So much has changed, so quickly, and Lumine says it won’t be different, that we can still travel together, and I trust her, I really do, but... I’m scared it will. That, for whatever reason, the magic’ll have faded, or be gone completely, and it just... won’t be the same, and I’ll have lost this.” She’s started crying, she realises, wiping at her eyes. “I know it’s stupid, but it’s stuck in my brain and I’ve been thinking about it this entire time, and I guess I’ve just spiralled.”
Lisa smiles sympathetically. “It happens, sometimes. No matter how confident you think you are, there’s always something that can knock you off-balance. The best thing you can do is talk about it, or it’ll just get worse.”
“Well, I’ve talked about it, so there.” She sticks her tongue out at the older woman, who hides a smile behind her hand.
“Think about it this way, then; this is a big change for Lumine, too. She’s probably just as worried about it as you are.”
“She told me she’s changed before. She won’t be.”
“Yes, but she didn’t have someone like you to travel with when she did, did she? Alone when you met, and had been a while. This is the first time someone else has to deal with the change as well. She’s probably worried, and at least a little scared, about how you might react once you start travelling again.”
“Still, what does that change? All it means is we’re both on edge.”
“It means she cares, Amber. It means that, even after everything that’s changed, she wants you to be happy. She wants you to find joy in your travels.” Lisa tents her fingers. “Now, who does that sentiment remind you of?”
“...Aether,” Amber murmurs.
“Exactly. For all that’s changed, you’re still you, and she’s still her. And as long as those things are true, even if she has a different face and name, even if your relationship ends up different because of these changes,” she gives a sly and knowing grin, and Amber feels her face heat up, “you’ll still be Amber and Lumine, in the TARDIS, seeing the universe. And that’s something I don’t think can ever lose its magic.”
Amber is quiet for a few moments, contemplating, and the weight of anxiety lifts; it’s not gone, but in truth she can hardly feel it. “Thank you, Lisa,” she says finally. “That... that was really helpful.”
Lisa reaches over and ruffles her hair. “Of course, cutie. I’ve got a lot of experience helping people.” She stands, stretching and yawning. “It’s been a long day, and I think all of us are rather exhausted. Both you and I should get some rest.”
“Goodnight, Lisa,” Amber calls after her, as she leaves.
“Goodnight, Amber,” she responds, closing the door.
The night is restful for her, and she wakes in a much better state of mind than yesterday. The smell of pancakes propels her out of bed at speed, because like >hell was she missing those; Jean was excellent at them (though no one held a candle to Noelle, but she wasn’t here), and it’d been a while since she’d enjoyed the older woman’s cooking.
She rockets into the kitchen, clearly to Jean and Lisa’s amusement; both let out sudden laughs at the sight, but she really doesn’t care. “Good morning to you, too, Amber,” Jean says from the stove.
“Really, Amber, have you taken the slightest care of yourself yet, or did you run in here as soon as you woke up?” Lisa asks disapprovingly. Amber keeps quiet, sheepishly. “Go and shower, you daft girl. And change your clothes. And-”
“Yes, mother,” Amber cuts her off, “I’ll go be hygienic, you killjoy.”
“The pancakes won’t disappear just because you took a little while longer, Amber,” Jean says.
“I know,” she whines as she leaves.
The pancakes have not disappeared after a quick shower and change of clothes, and taste all the better for the wait. “Where’s Lumine?” She asks when she’s done eating.
“Waiting for you in the TARDIS. I think she wanted to keep some things a surprise.” Lisa’s smirk is unreadable, and Amber feels somewhat unnerved. “Don’t keep her waiting!”
“Gotta brush my teeth first,” she notes, rushing off.
“She never slows down, does she?” She hears Jean say as she exits, clearly hiding a laugh.
Her heart is racing as she opens the door to the TARDIS, and only partially because she’s been sprinting everywhere all day.
Despite everything that’s happened, the interior looks mostly the same; the atmosphere, however, is much cosier, and it takes her a moment to figure out why. “Are those bookshelves?” She asks when she does.
“Yup!” Lumine replies cheerily, from wherever she is. Amber can’t see her, but hears her clearly regardless. “I redecorated. Do you like it?” There’s an adorably awkward tone in her voice.
“Absolutely,” Amber says sincerely. “It’s a lot... warmer. Like, metaphorically.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted. I get why I kept it fairly sterile and professional, I do, but it was really boring, and I had some time, when do I not, so. Here we are.” Lumine finally steps into view, and Amber’s breath catches.
She’s wearing a white sleeveless dress with accents both gold and black, and similarly coloured stockings and bracers, with a scarf draped over her back in much the same style (Amber feels much less self-conscious about all the red, with how white Lumine’s outfit is), and she looks absolutely incredible. “Like the outfit?” She asks, spinning on one foot. “The dress really was a good choice, it’s so swishy.”
“I love it,” Amber says breathlessly.
“Good, cause I was sticking with it either way,” Lumine replies, winking. “Now!” She dashes towards the console. “Where do you wanna go? All of time and space, everything and where that ever has been, could be and will be, and some things that won’t, too, all at your fingertips, so where are we starting?”
“You’ve given me this speech before,” Amber says, as if she’s not grinning from ear-to-ear and well aware of it.
“Yeah, but I wanted to give it again. My friend deserves the best, and that includes dramatic speeches, and, besides, it’s really fun to say.” Lumine flicks switches and presses buttons seemingly at random, though Amber knows better than to assume there’s no method to her madness by now. “Question still stands, though. Where to next?”
“Wherever you want to go,” she replies.
Lumine’s grin widens. “Well then.” She yanks the lever, and the TARDIS begins to shift. “Let’s get going, then!”