Author's Note
The story is, by its nature AU, but I have endeavoured to work it around cannon events rather than making major changes to them. In my mind this series has grown into an epic, I have ideas for at least 12 stories but how much makes it to the page is yet to be seen! My first fanfic, and un-Beta'd, so please be nice. The beginning of this story is set at the end of 'The Snowmen'.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but an overactive imagination! Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. Chapter one borrows some dialogue from the last scene of 'The Snowmen'.
Chapter 1: Perhaps The Universe Makes Bargains After All
Despite the sudden thaw, the wind was still chill, as Jenny solemnly followed The Doctor, through the London Graveyard. Madam Vastra walked in solemn silence next to her, the only noise their footfalls, muffled by the damp grass and the accompanying rustle of starched fabric. Jenny's eyes wandered towards the grim faced man ahead of her, as her thoughts turned towards what this latest loss would do to him. Things had started to go downhill when The Doctor had briefly turned up after he lost the Ponds, but River had kept him going and he had gone off travelling again. Only to return a year later, (although Jenny got the impression that to him, it had been longer, much longer) claiming he was retiring. He had been in a state; chronic depression, was how Vastra had described it. They had finally dragged the reason from him. Professor River Song was gone. Without her he seemed to have lost the will to go on. It was terrifying to see such a powerful and energetic man so lost, bitter and detached.
They had all tried to pull him out of it. She remembered one of their first encounters. They had been knocking on the TARDIS doors for nearly ten minutes when they finally opened to reveal the Doctor wearing the expression that had earned him the title of The Oncoming Storm, a look that would have made anyone else turn and run. Madam Vastra barely flinched, however, as The Doctor began to rage. "What part of I'm retired do you not comprehend, no visitors, no more getting involved. So stop pounding on my door! I'm moving the TARDIS where I won't be disturbed!" Muttering to himself he retreated back into the TARDIS "…super dense water vapour, yes that ought to do it."
Their attempts to illicit some spark of interest had gradually become more and more desperate, inventing mysteries when Victorian London failed to provide any real ones, Strax had even declared war on the moon at one point. Although it was hard to be sure if that was an attempt to cajole a response from The Doctor or just Strax being Strax.
They had been ready to give up, to accept that the Doctor had changed. Then he had met Clara, and she had awoken something in him, for a moment he had almost been back to the hopeful, energetic doctor they used to know. Now that she too was gone, Jenny feared the Doctor would sink further into his depression. He always blamed himself, because he cared, despite what he said to the contrary.
They stood side by side at a respectful distance watching Captain Latimer with his children pay their last respects by Clara's graveside. Jenny was pulled from her musings when Vastra began to question The Doctor.
"And what about the Intelligence? Melted with the snow?"
"No, I shouldn't think so." The doctor answered "It learned to survive beyond physical form."
Jenny relieved that he had answered and had not sunk back into his miserable silence tried to keep the conversation light-hearted, despite the setting.
"Well, we can't be in much danger from a disembodied Intelligence that thinks it can invade the world with snowmen."
Vastra cottoning on immediately added. "Or that the London Underground is a key strategic weakness."
"The Great Intelligence…Rings a bell…" The doctor muttered to himself, pulling out the initialled business card and walking toward the grave as the family left. "The Great Intelligence…"
Jenny ventured a tentative "Doctor?" as strode forward. He knelt at the graveside, his eyes transfixed upon the gravestone. They approached more slowly, fearing the sight of the stone had finally triggered a relapse.
Jenny read the engraved words that had caused such a reaction; Clara Oswin Oswald. Remember me, we shall meet again. Born November 23 1866, died December 24, 1892.
Turning back to glance at them he began to talk, quietly at first but with the same intensity as when he was figuring out a problem. "I never knew her name. Her full name. Soufflé girl… Oswin… It was her… It was soufflé girl again." Rising quickly to his feet the Doctor turned to Jenny and Vastra "I never saw her face the first time with the Daleks, but her voice, it was the same voice.
Jenny confused by his excited ramblings but relieved that he was talking like his old self questioned him again "Doctor?"
He seemed to grow more agitated, his hands gesturing wildly. "The same woman, twice. And she died both times. The same woman!"
Vastra finally getting frustrated by the nonsensical rambling demanded "Doctor, please, what are you talking about?"
"Something's going on. Something impossible, something…" he rubbed his hands together, his face lit up in excitement, then he pointed to them, "Right, you two stay here. Stay right here. Don't move an inch."
"Are you coming back?" Vastra asked as the Doctor began to run through the headstones.
"Shouldn't think so!" he called back.
"But where are you going?" Vastra sounded exasperated.
"To find her. To find Clara." Doctor laughed as he Ran back in the direction of the TARDIS.
Completely confused Jenny turned to her wife. "But Clara's dead. What's he talking about, finding her?"
"I don't know, but perhaps the universe makes bargains after all."
"Should we follow him?"
"That may be wise, my dear." Vastra turned to stride after the Doctor.
As they returned to the edge of the churchyard where the TARDIS was parked Jenny was startled by the presence of a hunched figure standing between the Doctor and the TARDIS. Not human she thought to herself, she could tell that much even from a distance.
As the two ran to assist their friend fearing another attack they faintly heard the doctor speak but only arrived in time to hear the aged woman reply.
"I am Baade, Salient Soothsayer of the 7th Verron Sisterhood and I have been entrusted with a message for the Doctor" Baade spoke with surprising authority. Stepping closer she continued to speak more softly as Vastra and Jenny watched on.
"Doctor you are so, so sad you need to remember why. Someone is lost. You need to hear your New Song. Let me help you."
"Who Clara, do you know who she is?"
"I know not of a Clara, I speak of a New Song."
"New Song?" He repeated confused.
"You need not fear, may I?" She asked reaching out a hand.
Knowing and respecting the Verron Sisterhood and more than a little curious, the Doctor nodded, allowing Baade to place a hand on his temple. Immediately The Doctor started to experience flashbacks of memories that weren't there a moment ago. Mistrustful at first he viewed the images of himself and River as if from a distance.
He had his hand on River's pregnant stomach smiling as he felt the child within her move.
River was pacing tiredly up and down the TARDIS corridors with a crying infant, humming a soft lullaby.
He was sitting in the nursery that they had got the TARDIS to create, leaning over an old familiar blue crib that now held his precious daughter, as he told her stories of the grandparents she would never meet; the girl who waited and last centurion.
He was delightedly clapping as his daughter pulled herself onto her feet for the very first time, a huge grin on her little face.
He was attempting to push a pink McLaren buggy across a field on the planet Felspoon, in the attempt to find the perfect picnic spot, with a good view of the swaying mountains. River laughing and rolling her eyes at his antics.
There was an amazing clarity in the memories and a familiarity which assured The Doctor that they were in fact his and had not been faked, although he could hardly believe what he was seeing. He could now feel the gap in his memory; nearly 2 whole years were missing and he wondered how he had not noticed it before. Something had erased them from his mind, something powerful. With his acceptance of the truth of these precious, extraordinary memories he found himself no longer viewing them from outside but re-living them fully, feeling the emotions he had Doctor began to examine the memories in more detail, drawn to one in particular; the day everything changed.