Chapter Text
“Hey, kid, what are you doing here?” the kind blonde woman asked. Steve stared up at her with a frown, crouched down next to a dumpster in New York, 1974.
“You can’t make me go back to the doctor’s. I don’t like it there.”
“Not a fan of Doctors, are you?” the man in a leather jacket said, crouching down to the little kid’s eye level. His smile bounded playfully with amusement.
“No. They don’t let me run!”
“Well, kid-“ “- I’m Steve, and I’m not a kid - ” “- Steve the Kid, then - I’m The Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler. Do you want to come run with us?”
The Doctor held out a hand. Steve eyed it warily. His parents would be so angry if he ran. But then again, they probably already were.
“Doctor, you can’t just kidnap a child.”
”I’m not.”
“You are.”
”Not if he agrees.”
”That’s not how it works-”
“I want to run,” Steve said. He grabbed the Doctor’s outstretched hand and stood up. His frail legs wobbled as they struggled to hold his body up. The Doctor reached out with another hand to help support Steve.
“Well, we can’t run with legs like those, can we?” he said. Steve frowned.
”You said I can run.”
“Yes, you can - but I think we’re going to need a pit stop at New New York.”
“We are in New York,” Steve said, looking at the Doctor like he was the most stupid man on Earth. It’s the kind of judgmental look that only kids under twelve can put on.
“Not New York. New New York, in the good ol' year of 5,000,000,023,” the Doctor grinned.
And that, is how Steve Harrington’s life turned upside-down.
Steve was forcibly woken up from his dream by the alarm blaring into his ear. He groaned and flailed his arms about until it hits the ‘off’ button on the blocky alarm clock.
With the alarm turned off, Steve immediately snuggled back into his bed, smiling fondly at the memory. Thinking back, Steve would have been dead by now if the Doctor was not the Doctor, but a human trafficker or another child-killing entity. Steve really should have thought twice before following two strangers into a mysterious blue box.
Eh, things turned out ok.
Somewhat.
Steve let himself slowly slip back into the sweet comfort of sleep. It was Saturday. He could sleep in.
…Wait.
It was Saturday. The last Saturday of the month.
Steve shot up and tossed off his pyjamas. He scrambled to put on his most durable pair of jeans and pulled on whatever t-shirt his hand grabbed first. He hopped on one leg as he pulled on his most comfortable socks and running shoes, not wasting a second to run downstairs. His mom would throw a fit if she saw how he left his pyjamas lying on the floor, but she wasn’t here to scold him.
Steve ran out of the house and into the woods. He counted his steps until he saw the tree marked with blue paint. The cobalt blue paint spelt out “DOCTR” down the trunk of the tree, though it looked like “DOOTR” from a distance thanks to the paint dribble. Steve brushed his hand against the tree, feeling time coarse through the old tree, still thriving, still with so much time to grow.
He waited by the tree, and soon, the familiar song of the TARDIS tickled his ear, quickly followed by the wooshing as she landed behind the tree. The door opened, and the Doctor stepped out with a gleeful smile, followed closely by Rose.
“Stevie!” the Doctor said, putting his arms up for a hug. Steve immediately ran into his arms and giggled.
”Doctor! I told you, I’m too old to be called Stevie! It’s just Steve!”
“You’re ten, Stevie, not too old at all,” the Doctor said, and poked Steve’s nose. Steve giggled even louder and playfully swatted away the Doctor’s hand. The Doctor gasped in mock-disbelief, retracting his hands as if he’d just been burned.
“I am! I’m all grown up! Mom and Dad said so,” Steve said. He spoke with all the indignation of a ten-year-old.
“Are they away again?” Rose asked.
“They’re busy,” Steve said. “It’s an unavoidable business trip.”
He parroted what he always says. Rose, having heard that excuse before, frowned. The Doctor ruffled up Steve’s hair.
“I know, Stevie. Where’ve they gone?”
“Venice.”
“Then let’s go to Venice, shall we?” The Doctor sprang up to his feet and clapped his hands together. “Oh, we can go say hello to Nicolo! His pesto is absolutely brilliant. I’m sure visiting an old friend can’t go wrong. Touch wood!”
The Doctor tapped on the tree, and the TARDIS sang thoughtfully. Steve knew she was going to take them to an interesting time to visit Nicolo, whoever he was. Because no matter how much the Doctor tried to come up with ‘child-friendly’ adventures, the occasional thrilling episode was inevitable. After all, the promise was that Steve would be able to run.
Oh, and interesting it was. Nicolo had fallen in a Romeo-and-Juliet style love with the leader of the secret society of merfolk living under Venice. The merfolk had found out about their leader’s scandalous love and were throwing a coup. There was so much running. And so much swimming, too.
In the end, Nicolo and the mer-prince found their happy ending, though it came at the cost of leaving their home. But the couple had no regrets in leaving Venice in search of a safer haven for their love. The Doctor helped them relocate to a safe, rural location in exchange for Nicolo’s pesto recipe and an invitation to their wedding. (Nicolo had laughed, saying that the Doctor was always going to be invited.)
It was a small wedding with only a handful of guests. It was very different to the ones Steve usually went to. Those ones were full of people, each and every one of them there for a purpose. Seeking business deals, seeking information, seeking gossip. But this one - this one was only full of people there to truly celebrate a couple’s love; nothing more. Steve even got to be the flower boy.
Rose took an ungodly amount of photos of Steve scattering rose petals from a million angles on her camera. The Doctor also made sure to wrestle the camera from her hands to take a million photos of her, too. Her blue dress fluttered in the wind as she danced with Steve. Their shoes were filled with sand, and their hair smelled of salt, but Steve was happy.
So, very, happy.
Steve waited, as always, on the last Saturday of the month. It was going to be his birthday next month, so he hoped to ask the Doctor for a longer adventure as a gift. His parents won’t be home anyway, so he could take a few days off school. He could blame it on the flu. It’s not like the school knew that Steve could never get sick.
He swung on his feet idly, thinking of all the ways he could try and convince the Doctor and Rose, until the TARDIS whooshed into view.
Steve got ready to run up to the Doctor and swing on his arms, but the door of the TARDIS did not open. She sang a sombre tune.
Steve approached the door hesitantly and peeked inside. The Doctor was standing by the console, alone, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Doctor?” Steve said.
“Stevie.”
The Doctor looked at Steve with a smile, but it was wrong. The smile didn’t look real. It looked like how Mom smiled, sometimes.
“...Where’s Rose?” Steve asked. He felt like he already knew the answer, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted the Doctor to say something. For Rose to run out of hiding and shout, ‘Surprise!’
“She’s gone,” the Doctor said. He looked so tired.
“Is she-”
“She’s not dead,” the Doctor clarified. “She’s… in another world. We can’t ever see her again.”
Then, the Doctor told him about what happened. About the Daleks and the Cybermen in the year 2007. About the Void, about Pete’s World, about how he said goodbye to Rose. As the story went on, Steve started to cry. He couldn’t remember when the tears started to fall, but they poured out.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you,” the Doctor said. “There wasn’t enough time.”
‘Not enough time,’ what a ridiculous sentiment to come from a Time Lord. The Doctor blinked away a drop of tear as he tried to wipe away all of Steve’s tears. He held Steve’s face gently, two brown eyes now red with grief.
“She told me… to tell you she’ll miss you. That she loves you,” the Doctor said. There was a sort of distance in his voice as he spoke.
“I l- loved- loved her, too,” Steve managed to say between hiccups, leaning into the Doctor’s hands.
“I know, Stevie, I know,” the Doctor said. He hugged Steve tightly, and Steve held onto him with all the strength he could muster. “I’m sure she knows.”
They sat there, on the steps of the TARDIS, holding each other for hours. There was no adventure that weekend. Steve couldn’t bring himself to go running without Rose there with him. The Doctor understood and stayed with Steve in his big empty house the whole weekend, doing boring domestic things. He made Steve peanut butter sandwiches and tucked him into bed, singing him old Gallifreyan lullabies.
Then, on Sunday evening, the Doctor got ready to leave. To go run again.
He gave Steve a box of photos. It was all the photos Rose took on her camera whenever the opportunity presented itself. Steve looked at the photo of them dancing together, rose petals fluttering around them at Nicolo’s wedding.
They were so happy.
So, so happy.
Steve looked at the Doctor pleadingly.
“Can’t you stay a little longer, Doctor? My parents aren’t home ‘til Thursday,” Steve said. The Doctor shook his head. Steve looked down at his feet. He didn’t know why he asked. He knew the answer. He keeps asking questions he knows the answers to. It’s stupid.
“The Universe is waiting,” the Doctor said, with that distance in his voice. “Who am I to keep her waiting?”
“Then take me with you, please? I can- I can just miss a few days of school,” Steve said. More questions he knew the answer to. Stupid.
“No, Stevie - I can’t let you,” the Doctor said. “School is important.”
“You can just drop me off back at this exact moment!” Steve tried to argue.
“Then you’ll be aging out of sync,” the Doctor said. “You know this.”
“But- but, it's so quiet here,” Steve said, desperate. He didn’t think he could bear this silence. Not right now. Not when he feels a gaping hole in his chest. “Please, just this once, Doctor?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“No, Steve,” the Doctor said. And that was final.
Steve’s eyes watered, and he nodded. The Doctor ruffled Steve’s hair.
“I’ll be back next month,” he said. “I promise.”
“Ok.”
“I…” the Doctor gulped. His throat bobbed as he swallowed the words he could never dare to speak. “Stay safe.”
“Ok.”
Then the Doctor was gone with the whoosh of the TARDIS engine.
And Steve was alone.
The next time the Doctor came back to Hawkins, he was with another companion. She introduced herself as Martha Jones and shook Steve’s hand gently. Steve didn’t know what to think of her.
But then, on their adventure, she grabbed his hand and ran with him. Her hand was warm. Steve never wanted to let go of her hand. Martha wasn’t Rose, but he already loved her. He loved the way she tried to look after Steve’s scraped knee after he fell, only to find that the wounds have already healed. He loved the way she cared for him, worried for him.
Martha Jones was brilliant, and that made Steve cry a little. It would hurt, hurt so much, when the time came for her to leave, too. He hoped she wouldn’t for a long time.
Maybe the Doctor felt the same way, because Steve could see that the distance in his voice never left. Steve could see that the Doctor cared about Martha. Maybe not in the same way he did for Rose, but he still cared. He was just bad at showing it.
Maybe he was scared, just like Steve.
“I love you,” Steve told Martha one day, when she was fussing over how he’d seen a dead body. How he’d seen people die. She was always so concerned about Steve. Concerned about a child coming along to travel across time and space, concerned that he’d already been irreversibly changed by the adventures, and concerned that if he were to be left alone in Hawkins, he’d be completely alone. Steve loved her for that.
Martha looked surprised at those words.
“I wanted to say what the Doctor can’t,” Steve said. “So please don’t leave us.”
Martha’s surprised expression turned into something else. A tinge of sadness mixed in with bittersweet joy. She held Steve’s hands.
“I won’t, not for a while, at least,” Martha said. “But one day, I need to go back to my life. Be a doctor - back in the 21st century. When that time comes, I’ll make sure to come visit you to say goodbye.”
“Promise?” Steve said.
“Pinky promise,” Martha said, holding out her pinky. Steve hooked his to hers, and they stamped the promise with their thumbs.
In the end, Martha did keep her promise.
She came to visit him out of the blue on a weekday. Steve had just come back from school to a house with an unlocked door. Steve, on high alert, quietly moved through the house with pepper spray in his hands, only to find Martha and the Doctor in the kitchen.
He knew, on sight, that she was here to say goodbye.
Steve dropped his schoolbag on the floor and ran to Martha. He hugged her legs, tears already pooling in his eyes. Gods, he hated how easily he cried. (“Harringtons don’t cry. Harringtons aren’t weak, do you get it, son? So stop weeping like a child.” Words echoed in his head.)
“Oh, I’m sorry, Steve, but I have to go,” Martha said. “I can’t leave my family, not now.”
Her family. Of course. Family was more important.
Why couldn’t he be in hers?
“You can come visit me when the time is right,” Martha said. “Gosh, you’d be older than me by then.” She let out a soft laugh. Steve tried to imagine being older than Martha. It felt wrong.
“I’ll miss you,” Steve said.
“I’ll miss you too,” Martha said. She pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Then she was gone.
After Martha was Donna.
When Donna first saw Steve, she turned to a Doctor with her hands on her hips.
“Doctor, that’s a child,” Donna said. "An actual, literal child. A baby human."
“I’m not a child!” Steve said. “I’m fourteen.”
“You are a child,” the Doctor told Steve, and then turned to Donna. “I am aware that he is a child.”
“Why are we bringing a child with us? Just a few hours ago, we were running away from an exploding volcano,” Donna said.
“You were?” Steve’s eyes glinted.
“Yes, and it would not have been a good place for a child to be,” Donna said. “So tell me, Space Man, why are you taking a child to goodness-knows-where?”
“Why am I taking you to goodness-knows-where?” the Doctor retorted. Donna frowned and opened her mouth to sass something back, but the Doctor spoke again before she could. “Besides, he needs this - and I keep the ones I bring him to child-friendly, thank you very much.”
“I keep telling him it doesn’t need to be,” Steve pouted. “It’s not like I’ll die.”
“That’s a part of the problem,” the Doctor muttered. Steve doesn’t think he meant for Steve to hear that.
“What do you mean you won’t die?” Donna asked Steve, oscillating between appalled, confused and fascinated. “Doctor, what does he mean?”
“Right - so, there was an incident, of sorts, when we were trying to cure his cancer. All was going well, if we look past what happened in New New York and St Mary’s Royal Hospital, 4049. Yep. Let’s look past those,” the Doctor rambled. Donna looked like she wanted to say ‘no, let’s not look past those,’ but the Doctor continued to ramble on before she could butt in. “We, eventually, found the right hospital, until it turned out that the head doctor was a bit of a deranged megalomaniac that wants to play with life and death - and, sort of, over-cured little Stevie.” The Doctor had the conscience to smile sheepishly. When the Doctor’s string of words came to a halt, Donna let out a soft "Oh," as the information clicked into place.
Donna looked at Steve with pity. Steve was sick of the pity. So many adults looked at him like that when he was in the hospital. Even now, some adults looked at him like that, telling him that he was ‘so brave for enduring that,’ to ‘thank God’ for the ‘miracle’ he was bestowed. It annoyed Steve.
“He wants to run, Donna,” the Doctor said.
“Yeah, I suppose he would,” Donna said, nodding slowly. “Fine then, he comes with. But keep it child-friendly!”
Donna spoke with so much confidence. She ordered the Doctor her demands, and it was fantastic.
“‘Course I will,” the Doctor said. He turned to Steve and winked as he stepped into the TARDIS. “When have I ever not?”
Steve snorted out a laugh. He could hear the TARDIS sing her amusement and invite him onboard.
“Doctor, I saw that wink,” Donna said, following the Doctor inside. “DOCTOR.”
“In his defense, it’s usually not his fault when things turn out to be more wild,” Steve said, tugging at Donna’s jacket. “It’s usually the TARDIS’ fault. She loves trouble.”
The TARDIS stopped singing and Steve could swear he heard her blow raspberries.
“You talk like the TARDIS is a person,” Donna said.
“She is,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “I can hear her.”
“What?” Donna said, exasperated. Steve shrugged.
“A different story for another day,” Steve said. He held out a hand in Harrington fashion for her to shake. “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”
“Donna,” Donna replied. She took his hand and shook it. “You’re one of the most un-childlike child I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe because I’m not a child?” Steve said.
“Right, correction: most un-childlike child, except for the fact that you keep on insisting that you aren’t a child,” Donna said, crossing her arms.
“Mom and Dad say I’m not a child,” Steve said, crossing his arms to mirror her posture.
“Speaking of, there the fu- fudge are they? Do they know you’re travelling through time and space?”
“You can say fuck, I know what a swear word is,” Steve rolled his eyes.
“Oi, don’t you ignore the question-”
“They’re in Washington, I think. It’s an unavoidable business trip,” Steve said. He felt like a pull–string doll whenever he answered that question. Unavoidable business trip, urgent family emergency, urgent business deals, yada yada. “You won’t get into trouble for kidnapping, so let’s get a move on. Where’re we off to, Doctor?”
“Dunno- Alpha Centauri? Haven’t been there in a while - ooh, how about we go see the Vikings? Or we can go meet Agatha Christie! I’ve been saying that we should do that for a while - but, we could also go see the construction of the first Galactic Express! So many possibilities!” the Doctor spoke his stream of consciousness out loud. “Whaddya say, Stevie? Any suggestions?”
“Vikings!” Steve cheered. He’d just learnt about them in History class. It would be so amazing to see them in real life! Their armour, their ships, it all looked so cool in the books. Not to mention their amazing beards.
“The Viking era it is, then! Hooooold on tight!” the Doctor rapidly pressed a few buttons on the console, flipped a dozen switches and pulled down a lever. The TARDIS whirred into action and flew into the Time Vortex.
Steve felt the familiar waves of Time rush pass and giggled. The TARDIS giggled with him, welcoming him home.
With the Doctor and Donna, Steve met River Song and ran through a library. ("It was supposed to be an educational trip - I swear,” the Doctor would later say.) With them, Steve celebrated New Years in outer space, watching the birth and death of a million stars.
Steve came to love Donna, just as he had loved Rose, Jack, and Martha. He missed them all.
“We met Martha again, wish you were there,” the Doctor said. “But then again, that was not a child-friendly adventure, so maybe Martha and Donna would’ve had my head if I brought you. You’re a bit too young to work for UNIT.”
“UNIT?”
“An organisation I used to work for, or still work for, I suppose? The Old Me is probably running about with them as we speak,” the Doctor said. “Might still have that scarf… or am I onto the celery by now? Can’t remember.”
“Celery?” Steve said in disbelief.
“Celery,” the Doctor nodded. “Used to have it pinned on my blazer. It was a fashion choice made by that old face of mine.”
Steve burst out laughing. Celery, as a fashion item!
The Doctor laughed with Steve, trying to defend his old face’s fashion choice. It was iconic, he tried to say. But Steve just continued laughing.
“Celery! I have to go see that,” Steve wheezed. “Would I see your Old Face in London if I go visit?”
The Doctor’s laughter abruptly stopped at those words, his expression morphing to something serious. He held Steve’s shoulders firmly and looked him in the eye.
“Stevie, no. You cannot go see me, or a young version of anyone,” the Doctor said. By ‘anyone,’ Steve knew he meant Rose, because Steve knew the Doctor was tempted every waking hour to go see her again. To go see a Rose before the Doctor. “You cannot let us see you before we meet you. You know that.”
“I know, the space-time continuum and whatnot,” Steve sighed. The Doctor’s expression softened. He held his child Steve in his arms and stroked his hair, unspoken words at the tip of his tongue. Steve leaned into him, listening to the Doctor’s two hearts beat in tandem.
This was enough, Steve decided. The Doctor was enough. He was constant - though his face changed - and he was there, here, present every month. (The same could not be said about his parents.)
Or, at least, he was supposed to be.