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All was silent now. He gently landed the TARDIS down on the grass outside of Clara’s flat complex. Home. He stepped outside and brought her with him, voice low as he spoke. “Home sweet home. Go on, then. I’ll see you one day soon. Get some rest.”
Something about the way he said that made her wonder. She drew his eyes to her, watching him for a moment as her head tilted. “You sure? Because you don’t seem like it.”
HOURS EARLIER
It was an atrocious day. Absolutely abysmal. The Doctor was vehement about her not wandering off on him, and what had she done in response to that? Clara had gone off on her own, of course. And the rest, as they say, was history.
He had to swoop in and rescue her from the clutches of a street gang on Veltron 5 who were in the business of abduction on the humanoid black market for organ sale. She wasn’t going to lose the one good human heart she had, thank you very bloody much. He never would have allowed that to happen. She went kicking and screaming, of course, which was exactly how he’d heard her and found her in the first place. They weren’t planning on just how feisty she could be when the moment called for such a response.
As they trudged back to the TARDIS later, he read her the riot act. A full-blown, complete lecture was in order, which she understood, but she still wasn’t pleased about it.
“I’m not a child,” she reminded him. However, her voice still came off as rather petulant, and if she was being honest, the tone was rather childish in nature.
He stopped just outside of the TARDIS, eyebrows high on his forehead, and stared at her. When his eye actually twitched, genuinely twitched, she understood the gravity of the situation more clearly. The adrenaline was waning now, and the fear prickled the hair on her arms and right at the back of her neck.
“You nearly lost all of your organs, Clara Oswald,” he said, tone low. “How do you… Do you know what that would have done to me, if I wasn’t able to rescue you? This isn’t some sort of joke. It really isn’t.”
She paused, hands clasped in front of her. “I’m sorry, alright? How many times do I have to say it?”
“At least until I actually believe you,” he replied, fishing through a pocket for his TARDIS key. Before he could unlock it, however, his old girl opened the door for them out of kindness. He stepped aboard with a soft sigh, shoulders slumped as he tucked his key away safely.
Clara was a bit thrown, watching his back as he wandered over to the console. This new Doctor threw her for a loop at times. It wasn’t too long ago now that he’d changed, regenerating himself. Just when she felt like she was on even footing with him, things shifted, and the rug was pulled from her feet. Today, however, had been entirely her fault. She knew that with every fiber of her being. He had the right to be upset with her.
“It would hurt me too, you know,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind herself. “If something ever happened to you. Do you know what that would do to me?”
He turned to glance over his shoulder at her, a bit surprised by the words. His expression was unreadable, however scrutinizing his gaze was. She clocked the moment he softened, and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Not really. I don’t, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”
She closed the distance between them, even if she still remained a few steps away for his own personal space needs. She ached to reach out and brush his arm, so overcome with emotion in that moment, but she refrained. Again, it would only spook him. He would dash off.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” asked Clara. “You don’t understand how I see you, how important you are to me, to my life. All of this…” She paused to point around at the TARDIS. “It means nothing to me. Yeah, it’s a nice bonus. But it’s you. You’re the thing that really matters, not the traveling, adrenaline, and adventures.”
He shifted uneasily, eyes unable to meet hers, as if he didn’t trust himself to actually believe the words. That nearly broke her heart. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. “I’m sorry about today, okay? I do mean that. Genuinely.”
His voice, when he began speaking, had dropped a few octaves, just enough for her to notice the rasp in it. Emotions. He wasn’t very good with him, was he? He never had been, apparently, and never would be. “Let’s get you checked out in the med bay, alright?”
“Sure,” she said, bravely reaching out for his fingers. He didn’t pull away for once. He led her down to the corridor to the medical bay, pushing open a door and allowing her entry ahead of him. He was, if nothing else, attempting to be a gentleman.
He guided her over towards a medical cot, offering her a hand up, where she sat and anxiously watched him for a moment. He fetched a wand of some sort, waving it over her to scan her. By the time he was nearly finished, his hand skimmed her thigh and she froze, seizing up. Her fingers anxiously flew out to grasp his wrist and he jumped, a bit shocked, before his head rose to meet her gaze. “Clara—?”
There was panic in her eyes, as plain as day, and his mind began backtracking. In moments, he came to a single, glaringly obvious solution. His eyebrows drew together in concern, fingers skimming her kneecap now, trying to be gentle.
“Sorry, yeah, I’m just fine,” she lied easily. “Just a bit jumpy is all. Today was a lot.”
He stepped closer, approaching her slowly so it wouldn’t frighten her this time, and his chest deflated as he exhaled. “Clara, would you tell me what happened when they took you?”
There was a note of something there in his voice, just a hint of something dark and dangerous. His gaze could cut steel. He was angry. Not with her, of course, but it still concerned her. She knew what he was capable of, and she was fairly sure that he was the sort of man who could or would murder for her, out of revenge or perhaps to keep her safe. Some things could never be forgiven in his eyes.
Her lower lip began to wobble. “I’ll be fine, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. Nothing really happened, but it was enough to terrify me.”
The Doctor did something then that was so wholly and totally unlike him. He closed the distance between them, giving her ample enough time to push him away or protest, and drew her into his arms. He hugged her gently, chin coming to rest stop her head. “Clara, my Clara. I am so incredibly sorry.”
She sagged against his body, eyes falling shut. Silent tears threatened to fall, and she eventually gave into them, allowing herself a moment to grieve for what had happened earlier. She burrowed closer, astounded that he was allowing this to happen.
“It all happened so fast,” she explained, voice gone soft. “They saw me, took me, and I was screaming for you. One of them clamped a hand over my mouth, and they brought me into some sort of warehouse, each of them deciding what to do with me.”
His blood ran cold as she spoke, and he allowed her to continue without interruption. “Organs, they said. My body was unique and they figured they could fetch a good price for something like me. And then their leader made a rather… crass joke, saying it didn’t matter if they roughed me up a bit first, maybe passed me around. None of that mattered to the people they sold bodies to.”
She sucked in a quick breath, eyes squeezed shut. “I kicked, fought, and yelled. They tried to get at me but it eventually turned out to be too much of an ordeal for them. Then you arrived. Nothing actually happened.”
For a moment, he was lost. Sighing, the Doctor dropped a surprising kiss to her hair. “Don’t say that nothing happened. Too much happened, if we’re being honest. That must have been terrifying.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “You know what I meant. They didn’t get a chance to sexually assault me. That’s what I was referring to.”
He slipped away, just enough to see her face. There was no hiding from him now. He wiped away her tears, again surprising her. “I understood what you meant,” he remarked. “My point is that it wasn’t just nothing. It was something. Whether it takes place or not, the prelude is absolutely terrifying. I’m proud of you for fighting back. You saved yourself, Clara.”
She shook the feelings off, bravely meeting his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Look at you, mothering me.” She gave a soft, watery laugh, something entirely without humor. “You aren’t like this. You resist it every single time I try to touch you, and yet here you are hugging me, kissing my hair, and wiping away my tears. This is wrong. I’m probably dreaming. I’ll wake up any moment now.”
He tilted his head at her, deciding to inject a bit of humor into the conversation for her sake. “Do you normally dream about… affection where I’m concerned? Is this a normal scenario for you?”
She turned beet red in an instant, her cheeks warming. “That’s not… I didn’t mean…”
His chuckle in response startled her. “I know,” he teased lightly. “But if you do, now’s your chance to admit it. I won’t be upset in the slightest.”
It felt surreal. Her eyes widened at him. “Yeah, okay. I’m definitely dreaming right now.”
Her response was enough of an answer. He huffed in amusement and then, as tenderly as could be, began to see to her various cuts and scrapes. She let him, eyes occasionally meeting his whenever he silently asked for permission to touch her. By the time he was finished, she was bandaged and taken care of. She was in good hands. Maybe he really was a doctor of sorts.
“Thank you,” she whispered, a hand brushing his arm. Again, he hovered close and didn’t flit away from her. She was astounded.
“Is this you?” she asked, courage filling her. “Is this what you’re like when a friend is in danger, when someone’s been hurt? I thought it was just me. I thought you were entirely averse to me. Am I wrong? You’re touching me.”
He inhaled sharply, eyebrows doing a thing. They rose on his forehead. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he informed her. “You think so little of me, Clara Oswald. And how could you ever believe that of me? If I didn’t enjoy your company, then I wouldn’t be traveling with you. Yes, I want to take care of you. Yes, I think you need a bit of closeness at the moment. Intimacy, I believe you’d call it. Yes, I suppose I am like this when a friend is injured.”
In a show of apology and tenderness, she reached for his hand. She drew it up higher, kissing the finger where his ring sat. He watched her, eyebrows drawn together. His head was swimming, a nameless emotion enveloping him. “Thank you,” she simply said. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he promised. “Let’s get you home safely now, alright?”
There was construction going on in her building, she announced. She wanted him to park the TARDIS outside, down on the lawn. He obeyed and no one noticed their sudden arrival. As she stepped outside, he seemed to be watching her closely. She’d been through something rather traumatic and he was all too aware of that fact.
None of this was easy for either of them.
He stepped outside and brought her with him, voice low as he spoke. “Home sweet home. Go on, then. I’ll see you one day soon. Get some rest.”
Something about the way he said that made her wonder. She drew his eyes to her, watching him for a moment as her head tilted. “You sure? Because you don’t seem like it.”
He cleared his throat, hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced around the wide lawn, finding a woman walking her dog. She was muttering to the pup. When his gaze found Clara’s again, he revealed, “I’m no good for you, Clara. Look what happened today.”
That was more than enough. She immediately raised a hand to stop him. “What happened today was my fault. You specifically told me not to wander off, and I didn’t listen. It was my own mistake, not yours. I should have listened to you, and I will do in the future. Please, don’t put this on your shoulders. There’s more than enough weighing you down as it is.”
The admission and the vulnerable comment about him was more than enough to pull him up short. He glanced away, eyes finding a flock of birds in the sky. “Perhaps you’re right,” he eventually conceded.
“No,” she said firmly. “I am right. There’s no ‘perhaps’ about it.”
When he met her eyes, there was something so sad about him just then. There was sorrow in his expression, in his eyes, and she longed to reach out for him. It was almost hilarious. She didn’t feel worthy of the comfort, and yet she felt like he was.
“Come upstairs with me,” she begged. “Let’s spend some time in my flat. I’ll make us tea, turn on some silly telly, and you can keep me company. I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye for a while just yet. Is that okay?”
In an instant, he felt needed. Clara required the company. She had been through something so terrible today, and she wanted him with her. He almost perked up, like a wilted flower that had been given a rainshower, and nodded.
And then there were Clara’s thoughts. Her mind was headed in a completely different direction. Maybe she did deserve this, she thought. Friendship, love, whatever it was, it didn’t matter in the end. If she was going to give him the company he so dearly deserved and needed, she would allow herself the same in return. They could help each other. In time, she would forget about today.
They both just wanted to keep each other company.
The Doctor turned to close the TARDIS door before following her across the lawn. They wandered into the building and made for the lift. She certainly wasn’t about to ascend all the steps today. Normally, she would. It was good exercise. Today, however, she was far too sore for any of that. She leant back against the cool metal of the lift as they rode it upstairs, and she pretended not to notice the way he subtly watched her.
“I’ll be okay,” she reassured him softly. “I mean that. It was just… scary.”
His fingers flexed at his side, and she wished that he felt comfortable enough to reach out for her. It was her own fault, she knew. She had pushed him away after his regeneration. Now, he felt as if she didn’t want the touch, not from an old man like him. Today had been an exception, the first of its kind, and she would cherish those memories, despite the reasoning behind all of it. Instead of waiting on him, because it would never come, she kept her eyes ahead of her and slipped her fingers through his. Their palms pressed together, the cool temperature of his skin coming as a comfort. He appeared startled in the reflection of the mental lift doors, but she didn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry, you know,” she began. “For the way I treated you.”
She could just barely make out the way his head dipped, eyes no doubt on their hands. “For what? When?” he asked, voice rougher than before.
“Your regeneration,” she explained. “I wasn’t kind to you, and it’s ridiculous because I’ve seen so many of your other faces. I met the War Doctor. I’ve seen the others, even if it was only through the computer system aboard the TARDIS. I treated you terribly.”
“Clara, stop that.” He paused, unsure of himself now. “We don’t need to…”
Instead of listening to him babble, she cut in. “No,” she implored, “listen to me. Listen to this, please. I’m apologizing because I need to. I don’t know if I’m quite ready for any big conversations because of what took place today, but I have a lot to say, so just let me get it out. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Not with this face, and not with any of the others. You are who you are, plain and simple, and who you are is who you’ve always been.”
When the lift doors opened, she tugged him down the hall with her. They made their way to her flat, and she lingered in the doorway with her key in hand. “This face is just as beautiful as your others. And I do mean that in an otherworldly, poetic way as well as an aesthetic one.”
He looked like a rabbit in the headlights. Clara squeezed his fingers before finally releasing him to unlock her front door and step inside. She held it for him, watching as he followed her inside. “You don’t have to say anything,” she continued. “I just wanted to apologize. If I could turn back the clock, I would have done it all differently. I didn’t know any better then, but now I do. I made a mistake, and I’m owning up to it. I’m only human, Doctor. Please make an allowance for me, even just a tiny one.”
His eyes were kind when they met hers, expression changing. It was a wonderful look on him. He seemed younger this way. The stark, hawkish features softened and a wee smile touched his lips. “Thank you, Clara,” mumbled the Doctor. “While you didn’t have to say any of that, I do appreciate it.”
Slipping out of her jacket, she huffed. “I did, though. It needed to be said.”
Surprising her, he took the jacket from her hands and hung it up for her. “No, you really didn’t. You forget, I’m a touch telepath. I’ve heard your thoughts this entire time, since we were in the med bay. I didn’t mean to, not really, but you’re so loud in that mind of yours. I never would have told you, I swear. It just… needed to be said, just this once.”
Blushing fiercely now, Clara averted her eyes. “I… Okay, that’s a lot. I forgot that was a thing.”
He knew she loved him. She had been thinking about it this entire time. The feeling was strong enough to overwhelm her. Surely, he knew now.
“It was too much,” he conceded. “For a while. Touching you. You were confused, and I felt it. There was anger, confusion, disappointment, which was the worst part for me, disappointment that I was just this now. Relief, though, because you cared about me. Care, like I said. Anger again. It was all over the place, and I just… couldn’t bear to touch you.”
They stood there for a long moment, gazes locked, before she turned away. She was a coward, sometimes. Those ancient, beautiful eyes were too much for her. “It’s returned, you know,” he offered, eyes resting on her back as she retreated to the kitchen. After a few seconds, he followed. “How you feel, that is. The care you harbor for me.”
Startled, she turned the electric kettle on and chanced a glance in his direction. “Is it? And yet I’ve done nothing but hurt you since your regeneration. Hardly worthy of that, I reckon.”
Here they were, talking about it without actually talking about it. They were so good at this. Discussing emotions without actually doing it. It was their forte these days. Their usual modus operandi, if you will, and they excelled at it.
“No,” the Doctor said, drawing the word out. “You’re only human, as you said. You needed time to come to your own conclusions. I tried to give you time and space. Granted, I’ve not been the best traveling companion in the meantime, I grant you, but there’s the long and short of it.”
She paused, a hand resting on the kitchen counter as she turned her head towards him. She watched him squirm for a moment, eyeing him from head to toe. Eventually, she gave into a soft smile and dipped her chin. “Yeah, okay,” she conceded. “Let’s stop throwing around the blame now, okay? We’ve both been awful. But thank you for taking care of me earlier. I think I… I think I needed it.”
The Doctor cleared his throat, awkward now. “That isn’t something you need to thank me for, Clara. Really, don’t be ridiculous.”
She proceeded to make them tea, sighing to herself. “Yes, it is. It meant something to me, and I want you to know that. I’m grateful. Friends should say these things to each other.”
That pulled him up short. It shouldn’t have, granted, but it did. “Okay,” he replied softly.
Later, they found themselves in her cozy living room area. Mindless telly was on, a soft background noise, and she was sipping at the chamomile tea in her mug. He was beside her, black tea, too much sugar, and milk, and a pensive expression had settled over his features.
“I won’t… I won’t wander off again,” she murmured, eyes flicked in his direction. “I should have listened to you. Next time, I will. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“You’re curious,” he said, shrugging. “You can’t help yourself, sometimes. Believe me, if anyone understands, it’s actually me. I’m the same way. We’re too similar. Stick with me next time, though, please. We can explore together, instead.”
Sighing softly, she came to rest against his arm and shoulder. He allowed it, even more surprisingly, and her eyes fell shut. “That sounds good to me,” she mumbled. “Together. Always together. Thank you for everything, Doctor.”
She tucked herself closer, feel a bit braver now after everything they had gone through today. Her nose brushed his throat, and he cast a soft glance down at her, his hearts on his sleeve. Thank Rassilon she couldn’t see his face. He ached to brush a strand of hair from her cheek but managed to resist the urge, his hands clasping his cuppa for dear life. “You’re welcome, Clara. Thank you for being my companion.”
The word sounded so romantic to her. Companion. Not a friend, not a traveling buddy, not just a bezzie mate… It was something more. Just more. More them, perhaps. They were something otherworldly. Not romantic (which was a lie), not platonic, but a secret third thing. If she was brave enough, she would have turned her cheek to reach up and kiss him. As it was, she somehow miraculously found the willpower to control herself.
“And I’ll be your companion for as long as you’ll have me,” she reassured him. After a long moment, he said something that made her cheeks burn. “A secret third thing,” he repeated, having obviously heard her thoughts. “Yeah, I like that. It’s very us.”