AssassinAuthor here, or Nerdtothefifth. This is dedicated to my followers on tumblr. Thanks guys! this was written per request, and I wanted to add, you guys are awesome, thanks again.
When she had landed in the time stream, alive, albeit baffled and exhausted, the Doctor heard her. Clara was panicking; her breath was puffing out of her mouth as she whipped her head around, her senses dazed. The place was strange; dark and musty, constantly shifting shapes morphing into forms only to slip out of solidarity a blink later. The bronze and tarnished haze clouded the area. There were distant, yet somehow close thumps. A continuous stream of wind violently wove around her. It weaved a haunting melody.
"Doctor?" Clara searched over her shoulder; not there. She turned again. There was a slight echo she noticed and gazed up, gauging how much space surrounded her, but failing from the mist and her disorientation. "Doctor!" She screamed, feeling her desperation. So much had happened. She wasn't sure what happened. She felt infinity tired, yet satisfied. It was as if she completed a long, valiantly sought out goal. It, whatever her experience in the time stream had been, felt like it lasted thousands of years, but yet disjointed, as if she spent only seconds jumping into consciousness then being knocked out again.
There were noises, voices swarming around Clara with each gasp. They echoed and rebounded. Distant memories. Was she a memory? Was she an echo? Who was she? Was she one more fragment? With intensity the panic hit her and her gasps turned to sobs.
Clara crouched on the floor, shielding her face as if that could somehow block the reality and the terror. "I don't know where I am." She almost reached a whimper. Her sobs now echoed around.
"Clara." She heard it. The Doctor. He was calm, so calm, but not trying to calm her. He just was calm. She jerked up at the name, her sob cutting off. A distant tap, a drumming picked up in her head "You can hear me. I know you can." He wasn't being persistent, rather reassuring. He was acknowledging that she was desperate.
Clara sat up fully, she did not know what was happening but grasping to comprehend. "I can't see you."
"I'm everywhere. You're inside my time stream. Everything around you is me." His previous selves, bodies, whirred around her, briskly heading to their destinies. Clara no longer felt the intense panic, distracted by her surroundings and the doctor.
"I can see you." Everything, she understood, everything here, was him. If there was one thing the Doctor could do, he could make her feel safe. She saw his past selves, the ones she had watched from a distance, protected, saved. A surprised wonder enveloped her; it was shocking that she was even there, that he was still alive.
"All your different faces, they're here," she spoke, acknowledging what was happening in a half whisper.
"Those are my ghosts, my pasts; every good day, every bad day." Just as the Doctor finished his sentences there was a throaty scream from one of his pasts: a bad day.
Lightning struck somewhere too close to Clara, the suddenness of it propelling her to the ground as she covered her eyes from the flash. "Uhh!" She let out as she landed.
"This world, what's happening?" she pushed herself up quickly, gazing above her.
"I'm inside my own time stream. It's collapsing in on itself." He explained in the shortest was possible, just how Clara was used to. His calm panicked her.
"Well get out then!" She had not protected him from so much for so long only to have the fool hurt or kill himself again when she was clearly at a disadvantage of being unaware of the situation.
"Not until I've got you."
Clara ducked her head, desperately confused and feeling hopelessly on the verge of tears. "I don't even know who I am!"
"You're my impossible girl," the Doctor reminded her. " I'm sending you something. Not from my past, from yours. Look up." She did as he said. "Look. This is you Clara." She searched diligently but not seeing anything above her. "Everything you were or will be." She stood up noticing the leaf. The leaf. "Take it." She reached out and snatched the leaf with her fingers. It was reassuring. "You blew into the world on this leaf. Hold tight, it will take you home." She lowered her arm and shook. She needed the Doctor. Just to know he was safe. She needed that, now that she knew who she was. Clara stumbled backwards, taking unsteady, unsure steps, still skimming for him.
"Clara, Clara, Clara," His voice faded for the serene gentleness it held before and became real. She heard it there. He was close. The Doctor was close. He called to her. "Come on, come to me now, you can do it, I know you can." She caught his image in the corner of her eye and turned, locking onto his appearance. The Doctor was reaching out to her, motioning with his hands, gesturing to her. Safe.
"How?" Her question was loaded and she didn't know which question he would answer, but she knew he would answer. For her.
"Because it's impossible and you're my impossible girl." She began to stumble forward. Listening to his voice dragged her along. "How many times have you saved me, Clara? Just this once, just for the hell of it, let me save you." As the Doctor called to her, Clara saw that his desperation matched her own. She did not like seeming needy, but the Doctor knew what she had done for him. It was his past. His voice gave away his own need to know that she was safe, that he could save her. "You have to trust me, Clara. I'm real. Just one more step." And with one more step, Clara was in his arms, grabbing him around the back of the neck pulling closer. She felt him. They were so relieved. Oh, they were together.
"Clara, my Clara." The doctor was near tears. His voice was so happy but overwhelmed that they were together. He kissed her cheek swiftly, and turned his head.
In that moment the Doctor saw a figure. The back of a figure, cloaked in black, and he lost his grip on his Impossible Girl.
Clara pulled out of the embrace to turn to see what held the Doctor's gaze.
"Who's that?" She asked in a low voice, trying not to be heard.
"Never mind; let's get back. Let's get back." The Doctor only shifted his weight back, only slightly anxious, but his unease was growing.
"But who is he?" Clara persisted.
"He's me. There is only me here. That's the point. Now let's get back." The Doctor was now cautious and forceful, putting his hand protectively on Clara's shoulder, wanting her to move away.
"But I never saw that one. I saw all of you. Eleven faces; all of them are you. You're the eleventh doctor." She turned back to the Doctor, trying to pry an explanation from him.
"I said he was me. I never said he was the Doctor."
"But I don't understand." The Doctor only made a puzzle out of the situation.
"Look, my name, my real name, that is not the point." He was getting flustered and anxious. "The name I chose is the Doctor. The name you choose, it's like a promise you make." Both his and Clara's eyes darted back to the figure. "He's the one who broke the promise." They faced the Doctor's real name. It was all too much. Clara began to collapse. "Clara? Clara? Clara?" The Doctor held her up as she fell against him. The Doctor pulled Clara to his chest and held her, on arm under her knees. "He is my secret." The doctor said this to himself.
"What I did, I did without choice..." The voice was rugged and unused; it was as if the words protested even being spoken.
"I know."
"…in the name of peace and sanity."
His voice grew to a maliciously angry tone. "But not in the name of the Doctor." He turned away and walked from the figure. The Doctor may have held Clara physically, but held John Hurt's words internally.
Hey, this was posted without going through my beta, so apologizes for the errors. If you are very nit-picky and have problems with anything about this, message me. Thanks.
~AssassinAuthor
