The thing is Clara hates big cities – maybe in part by her fear of getting (and being) lost. It's a hell of a lot easier to not know where she is when she's surrounded by tall buildings and millions of people and cars and anything and everything in between.
But, UNIT's been wonderful enough to give her a job that is far away from her memories regarding the Doctor (who was most definitely lying about Gallefrey – she knows him too well. Hopefully, he's too busy being 'the better person' to catch her on her fib) and Danny Pink.
UNIT never really told her what her job encompassed (which was something that didn't really bother Clara – the anticipation has kept her mind off certain people, so maybe the 'coming in blind' approach is a good one.) She wanted out of the country, UNIT offered a job in New York City (free of Clara's expense thanks to Kate), and Clara accepted; it's not something you just refuse. It is UNIT, after all, so she's assuming the job parameters include something revolving around science and aliens – and probably something completely bizarre. And of course, if UNIT's involved, nothing is going to go according to plan added to the fact that Clara's life fits the very definition of impossible, so that means this job is either going to make her or break her.
(Clara has her money on the latter; she's walking on a very fine line of mental stability right now, and even the slightest bit of only-god-knows-what might push her over the edge.)
Naturally, she finds herself lost in New York City. The obvious thing to do is to call Kate in hope of getting directions to where she's going (before she breaks down in the middle of a busy sidewalk.) Kate does give her directions (good ones, at that), but they are met with a catch – Kate never felt the need to inform her before now that the rendezvous was at Stark Tower – where she would be working (something with identifying and studying alien weapons that somehow found their way into the hands of Tony Stark and the world (and then some) famous Avengers.)
Nobody tells her anything (She voices this to Kate – and the woman just laughs.)
"Good luck, Clara." Kate says before she ends the call. Clara pockets her phone and sighs, gripping the handle of her bag a little tighter.
All Clara's got to do is figure out where she is right now so that she'll be able to walk to Stark Tower. The cabs are expensive a hell, and she'd much rather be pissed off with blistered feet than pissed off and broke.
After asking several people for directions, she realizes that the tower is only four blocks away – four long, chilly, agitating blocks.
But, she does get there without losing a penny or breaking a sweat. She quickly tries to tidy herself as she looks up at the building than back down at her feet. She's nervous – she shouldn't be, but she is. (There is a big difference from working with children and working with certified geniuses; sue her, she's a little intimidated.)
She's also cold and if she continues to wage a battle with herself in-between her eyes, she will freeze to death, so she enters the building.
The lobby is a crisp white and grey which complement the sophisticated design of the interior. If she's being frank, it feels very off worldly – like something she would see in the future on some far off planet. She knows it should intimidate her, but it doesn't – it feels more like home than anything.
Perhaps walking in here wasn't such a bad idea.
She approaches the front desk – a sleek metal thing which sits beneath Stark's name hanging on a wall, and the woman behind it. The woman is pretty. It's not a soft beauty, but it's hard and angular and tough. Clara finds herself thinking that the porcelain skinned, dark haired woman in front of her is the most intimidating thing in this room.
Clara digs though her jacket pocket, and pulls out the envelope she was told to show to the front desk when she arrived. She places it on the top of the desk; the woman picks it up, opens it and examines it. Clara stands there awkwardly for a few minutes while the woman breezes through it.
"Clara Oswald?"
"Yes, hello. That's me." Clara responds quickly. The woman in front of her extends her arm. Clara shakes it.
"Maria Hill. I'm going to show you to where you'll be staying, and then, Tony said he was going to give you a tour of the tower; apparently the Team has been anticipating your arrival."
"Sounds brilliant." Clara's a little taken aback that people were actually excited about her staying here. They sound welcoming enough and Clara can't help herself when she smiles.
Maria walks out from behind the desk and motions for Clara to follow her to the elevator. Clara's a little jealous – even the way Maria carries herself is impressive. They enter the elevator, and Clara is a little taken aback by the sheer amount of floors in this building (despite the fact she's been in buildings much, much larger than this with the Doctor).
Clara takes note of the button Maria presses while the doors close. She knows that she's bound to get lost at some point during her stay here – but she'll try her best to at least have a brief idea of where she's going (and she can start off by knowing the floor of her flat.)
The elevator ride is quiet for the most part; Maria is typing things into her tablet and Clara is busy looking out the clear glass at the skyline to even talk about anything. (The Doctor was right – with a view like this, it is really quite simple to appreciate how beautiful the Earth is.)
They reach the eighty-second floor relativity quickly, and soon make their way down the hallway – which is just as dignified as the lobby (that's with the complete disregard of the remnants of a bright pink glitter bomb outside of her neighbor's door; Maria just shakes her head and Clara gets the feeling that this sort of thing is a common occurrence.) Maria hands her a key and explains JARVIS (and privacy protocols and that she's basically allowed to meander anywhere.)
Which is a relief for Clara, whose curiosity oftentimes gets the better of her. (Also all she has to do is call for JARVIS in the case in which she manages to find herself lost and he'll direct her back to her room.)
"Also – if you find yourself suffocating in testosterone, just give me a call." Maria smirks and hands Clara a card, "I'll leave you to your unpacking, Tony should be here in half an hour, but he's always at least twenty minutes behind schedule – so there's no rush."
"I'll definitely take you up on that offer."
"See you around, Miss Oswald." Maria says as she exits Clara's flat.
The first thing she notices is that it's huge – bigger than any place she's ever lived (and since she's never really permanently taken up residence in the TARDIS, that doesn't win). The flat is also severely lacking in personality – the bright walls are an almost blinding mix of white and grey and the furniture (however comfy looking it might be) reminds her too much of a planet she had almost died on.
But, that put aside, she likes it (and she likes it even better knowing that she doesn't have to pay to stay here).
She explores her flat for a little longer before placing her jacket on the back of a chair. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, and moves on to empty her luggage (which was delivered to her flat before she even got here; Kate sure does know how to come through.
She first puts her clothes away in various positions in her closet and dresser. She then moves on to placing her trinkets and pictures around her bedroom, but that's never completed because a very excited Tony Stark comes barreling into her bedroom.
"You must be Clara Oswald." He grins. There is something about him that reminds her of the Doctor – she's not sure what it is yet but she intends to find out.
"That's me, I'm going to go on with the assumption that you are Tony Stark?"
"Cute and Intelligent – JARVIS, I think we've hit the Jackpot."
"Noted, Sir." A vaguely robotic voice chirps. Clara doesn't look up (he looks like he's expecting her too; he's in for quite the surprise.)
"Well, Mr. Stark, I'm sure you know that not just everyone almost becomes the Emperess of the galaxy." He cocks and eyebrow. She tries her best to stifle a laugh. (Needless to say, she fails.)
"And she's got a personality –"
"She's also not exactly sure what she's doing or where she's going so if you would care to elaborate…"
"Yes, yes – right this way Miss Oswald."
He explains that her floor is purely residential (and that her neighbors are legitimately the Avengers and an Astrophysicist and said Astrophysicist's badass lab assistant; Clara is more than a little whelmed.) Mr. Stark – or as he told her to call him, Tony – is much more friendly than she was expecting – he's rude and arrogant but Clara's only been traveling through space and time with someone with an even bigger ego (and self-hatred), so she's sure Tony Stark shouldn't cause her any trouble.
He takes her up to the labs – and to her lab (she gets her own lab! She's freaking out a little bit). She's apparently their new alien tech specialist (basically, once they get clearance from Thor that the alien-whatever they managed to get their hands on wont kill her on contact, she looks into it – with her UNIT and other firsthand knowledge.)
And apparently such a job title as hers gives her invites to Team bonding things (which she's planning on avoiding with a ten foot pole – she doesn't want to impose.)
That's before Tony tells her that if she's intentionally skipping out on Team bonding exercises, he will unleash the pleading eyes of Captain Rogers upon her. She laughs – she doesn't have the heart to tell the man that she just doesn't feel like doing anything but her job anymore.
Even though she's getting a pretty good idea that tony Stark once felt the way she's feeling right now.
He shows her the gym where the pair of them narrate the fight going on between The Black Widow (Natasha) and Hawkeye (Clint) in-between fits of giggles.
And then he shows her the pool (which she will most definitely be swimming in during the early hours of the morning when she can't sleep because of her soul-crushing guilt of lying to her best friend)
Tony talks to her as well; he knows that it's going to be awkward, and that she will get weary glances (which is nothing new), and if there is anything that she ever needs, he's a call away.
She is also informed that shenanigans do happen around the tower (i.e. Clint's failed attempt at glitter bombing her neighbor's (Sam Wilson's) flat, and she is bound by obligation to be on Team Science!.
She's got no problem with that.
-:-
It's late in the evening by the time Tony brings her the common room, so the crowd she was so desperately hoping to avoid is lounging in front of her. And of course, Tony Stark (despite that she's only just met him) has to be loud mouthed and announce that he's arrived with the new Science! Person.
Suddenly all eyes are her (and she's ready to shrink into a pile of nothingness). But - she's Clara Oswald, and she's faced much more terrifying things than a few superheroes (human ones at that.) She swallows her apprehension and panic, and puts on her everything-is-fine face (while trying to think of a witty way to introduce herself.)
"Clara Oswald – professional alien arse-kicker and time and relative dimension traveler." They all continue to look at her. Clint, Sam, and Steve grin at her – but the others are much more apprehensive. Tony pats her on the back and she really just wishes she could curl up in a blanket with a nice hot tea and cry.
"So…" she begins, "I'm gonna meander my way into that kitchen over there," she says, pointing to her left where a man and a woman are sitting hunched over the counter, "and make tea for myself. Tony, would you be so kind as to direct me to where I should be looking."
"Yes, ma'am."
As it turns out, the man sitting at the counter is none other than Thor Odinson, who is with the lovely Jane Foster – with whom she's able to strike up conversation about space and planets and interdimensional travel. Tony is trying his best to not look so utterly lost, and she can tell that the others who are nearby are listening in.
Then Jane starts rambling about some formula that she and Thor don't even understand, and she decides to call it a night. Clara politely exits the conversation (she's also invited to join them for breakfast tomorrow before she leaves) and makes her way back to her flat.
Her first day here was nice, and in time, she does whole-heartedly believe she will grow more comfortable around these people, but for right now – while she's still grieving over Danny and the Doctor and everything else that she doesn't deserve – she can't fathom how she's ever going to assimilate to such an environment.
As she makes her way down the hallway on the way to her door, she feels as if she's ready to cry. She knows Danny would be proud of her for moving on with her life and that this is what the Doctor wanted her to do, but she feels like she's being selfish – she feels guilty for wanting to get her life back in order because she feels as if she should still be in the stage of self-detrimental grief.
She can feel the tears pooling, and takes in a huge breath in effort to stop them (but that only seems to make it worse.
She's shaking as she tries to unlock her door, and it doesn't help that she can feel the gaze of someone on her as she struggles with the key. She doesn't know who this person is or what they want (or why they are just standing there leaning against the glittery mess on the wall) but she does except their help when they – he (it's man – a handsome one, at that) offers to unlock the door for her. She replies with a shaky thank you as he effortlessly unlocks the door. He quickly drops the key into her hand and she offers him her best smile that she can procure at the moment before hastily shutting the door.
She tries her best to remain composed while changing into her pajamas. By the time she falls into bed (which is much too comfy for her liking), she's too tired to even think about crying.
-:-
In the weeks that pass, Clara becomes fully dedicated to her work – not allowing herself to stop until her body is physically unable (or until Darcy Lewis, the lab assistant/mom friend, forces her out of the lab to sleep and eat and relax).
So, the deal is, when Clara isn't working her arse off, she's busy being an emotional mess.
She should know that things like this just don't improve with a new job (in a new country with new people) – she's been through grief like this before; she knows all too well what it's like to lose people close to her. She just feels like it's her fault for all that's happened – for Danny's death and the Doctor leaving. Hell, she did betray him; she's not even that bothered that he left, she just wishes he didn't have the audacity to lie to her about it. (Not that she's one to be talking.)
She chides herself for thinking that just because she left England and her life in that country behind her, she wouldn't miss it.
And she does. She misses the Doctor, she misses Coal Hill, she misses the TARDIS (and all the adventures that come with it), and she misses Danny. She's homesick and she's desperately lonely. (Not because the people she's working and living with aren't disregarding her, but because she doesn't want to drag them into her tale of woe; they've got much bigger problems to worry about.)
If they can tell she's not dealing with her shit very well, that don't say anything (well, Darcy does on multiple occasions, but Clara's resilient as hell and usually tells her to bugger off.) Although, she is pretty sure they man who helped her get into her flat has been keeping an eye on her. She's not sure who he is – but she's seen (and heard) him coming in and out of Sam's flat as well as in the labs (well, Tony's lab, but when he's done doing whatever he does in there, he usually takes a few minutes to idle by the door to her lab before going to sulk somewhere else. )
She wants so confront him – figure out who he is and why he's keeping an eye on her, but she feels a direct approach is too strong (at least for right now; god only knows the residents of Starks' tower are up to their ears in traumatic backstories, and the last thing she wants to do is trigger anyone because she was reckless enough to be too upfront.)
So, she asks around (and by that she means talks to Darcy. That woman has a way with getting information – it also helps that she can't help but run her mouth to anyone that chooses to listen).
Darcy's information is helpful (to an extent). His name is James Barnes, he's a friend of the Captain's (Darcy also got into the rhythm of calling him Sergeant Sass or Gramps and repeatedly warned her that Barnes is 'a little shit'.)
Clara grins; she sure as hell can't deal with her own problems, but she's dealt with moody British teenagers for the better half of her life. She shouldn't have any trouble with Barnes.
-:-
But you know, she's Clara Oswald and probably has inherited the worst luck in the galaxy (and that means that anything and everything goes to hell.)
When she isn't researching him, Clara starts going visiting the common room after she's kicked out of the lab (at the dispense of Darcy's nagging). She usually brings a book (usually either a classic or a biography; this week she's found herself in the company of her well-worn copy of Louisa May Alcott's The Inheritance.
On this fine Tuesday evening, she's lounging across the sofa trying her hardest to pay Rogers, Sam and Barnes no attention as they collectively point out inaccuracies and inconsistencies within the movie that Tony picked out for the evening. Natasha is trying to get the three of them to shut up, but Clint keeps adding wood to the fire and the three of them just won't quit it.
She swears the three of them combined are acting worse than children; is it that hard for them to simply watch the movie for the sake of watching it? (and not pick out all its flaws. It's a movie for god's sake, and they should have known that it was going to be full falsities.)
She lets out a groan, and repositions herself and tries to continue reading with their constant nagging in her ear. She manages to get through two more chapters – pushing their complaints and Natasha's shushing and Clint's whatever-the-hell he's doing out of her mind. (Thor and Tony, however, cannot handle it as well as she can and they left within the first ten minutes of Rogers' whining.)
"Would the three of you stop acting like bloody children?" she sighs. Barnes, Rogers, and Sam all turn their heads towards her. She fights the urge to meld into the couch cushions when Natasha and Clint join in looking at her. "Natasha's only been telling the three of you to shut up for the last forty minutes."
"Ma'am," Barnes begins after he shares a shit-eating grin with Rogers, "if you knew of the bullshit going on with these action sequences, you'd be complaining too."
"Sargent Barnes, I quite frankly don't care. You said yes to Tony when he suggested the damn film – also it's a fucking movie? And if we're being honest, when has Hollywood ever been a significant source of accuracy?"
"Better listen to the lady, Barnes." Clint snickers. Natasha slaps the back of his head, and Clara decides now is as good a time as ever to get some tea.
"Now, if you'll excuse me." She exits the room and hurries her way into the kitchen where she finds a box of chamomile. After she puts the kettle on, she grabs her favorite mug (which she bought in a market on Akhaten some time ago) from the cabinet. Placing her mug on the counter beside the stove, she lets out a sigh and pushes her hair back behind her ear so it's no longer in front of her face.
While her water boils, she contemplates Barnes. She's still not sure why he keeps following her, and she still doesn't know him or his habits nearly enough to ask him about it. But, she has noticed the way he looks at her – like he knows (or knew) her, which is a possibility she can't rule out (with her being a time traveler and her echo situation).
So far, those two things seem like the most plausible explanations.
Unless, she of course was on his kill-list while he was all Brain-washed Hydra Assassin – which is another totally plausible thing (because you know, infiltrating a soviet submarine that's holding a hostile alien does warrant that sort of thing.)
Her thoughts are interrupted by the shrilling of the tea kettle. She jumps, then rushes over to take it off the heat. She opens the package containing the tea bag and places that in her mug before pouring the water. While the tea is seeping, she rushes to the fridge and searches for the milk.
And that's when Barnes enters the kitchen (but she's too busy searching the fridge to notice).
She does, however, find the milk at the expense of walking straight into Barnes' chest. She lets out and 'oomph' and a string of apologies (even though it's clearly his fault for being in the way). She skitters around him over to where the tea is steaming, and pours in some milk. Clara grabs a spoon out of a near bye drawer and stirs her tea with it. He's watching her very indiscreetly, and while she's grown accustomed to his gaze, she can't help but feel a little discomforted by his stare.
She picks out the teabag, and tosses it into the garbage can and returns to the spot on the countertop where she set own the milk to only find that it's no longer there.
Instead she spots a very guilty looking Barnes leaning (very prettily) against the refrigerator. He shrugs. Clara fights the urge to laugh, so she settles with shaking her head.
"You're something else, Barnes."
"Says the time-travelin' English teacher turned whatever the hell Stark has you doing in the labs."
"Technically speaking, it's what UNIT has me analyzing in the labs, because you know, Stark is much too curious, although I also fit that department so that was a really bad call on Kate's part…" she pauses, "How'd you figure I was a teacher?"
"Picked up that book you were reading before on the couch – you've got special annotations in it." She nods, with a quirk of her eyebrow, but she knows there's more, "also read your file."
"Ah, right… I sometimes forget you people are nosy little pricks like that." She takes a sip of her tea, which is still scalding, but that doesn't seem to bother her. And Barnes laughs – and she's suddenly aware that the sound of such thing is almost as pleasant as the groaning noise the TARDIS makes.
"And if that was a jab regarding my handwriting, you better watch yourself – super-soldier or not,I will get you."
"I wouldn't put it past you, Oswald. Your reputation precedes you." She knows he means well, but his statement has an ill effect. Yes, her reputation is impressive – but it's also filled with tragedy and everyone she's ever lost (herself included).
She won't let herself fall apart - not here and not now that Barnes is actually speaking (possibly attempting to flirt) with her. If she can survive getting her soul ripped into millions of pieces, her best friend leaving her, and her boyfriend dying, she can get herself out of the kitchen and into her room without shedding a tear.
Unfortunately, Darcy (along with other sources) failed to mention that Barnes is perceptive as fuck. The look he gives her (stirred in with her added anxieties) allows her to drop her mug. The tea pools on the white tiled floor, but the mug is still in one piece (you've got to love those alien ceramics). She can feel her eyes grow impossibly wide and she knows it's going to be hard for her to come up with a good cover story.
She's not sure how she ends up sitting on the floor with her back against the cabinets or how he ends up crouched in front of her, hair hanging in his face with those sad, worried crystal blue orbs staring at her. He's speaking; she's not sure what he's saying (probably something to do with her breathing so she can calm herself down. She looks down at his lips and watches their movements, and she tries to form a rhythm for her breathing. She's okay –I am okay i'mokay i'mokay –
"That's it, Oswald. Nice and steady."
"I'm not her." She babbles. "I'm not her." Clara says it steadier this time. "I know she looked like me – hell, probably sounded like me and did whatever else like me, but she's not me. I'm not that Clara or Oswin or Clara Oswin or Cara or –"
"I know; I know. I believe you."
"Who was she to you?" she inquires when she finally regains enough composure to speak like a semi-functional human being.
"A friend." He pushes out slowly. She opens her mouth to ask for more details, but he cuts her off before she even gets the words out of her mouth. "And that's the only thing that matters. You've got millions of copies of yourself running around right?" she nods, not even bothering to ask where he got that information (because it was most likely in her file and all the people in this tower probably like to be educated on who their letting into their building), "and, as someone with a really fucked up memory and past and everything else, knowing stuff like that doesn't always make you feel better – cause you're not that person – not Connie or whoever else."
"It's not your fault." She mutters looking down at her hands. Surely, he was part of the reasn she panicked, but if it hadn't been for the shit-storm of a year she had which had the full contribution to her fragile state emotionally, none of the past events with Barnes would have happened. She does look back up, only to find Barnes staring at her like she isn't serious. "Really – I swear it isn't – I'm fine, just sometimes everything catches up with me and it's just too much."
He moves so that he's now seated beside her, their shoulders just barely brushed against each other.
"Have you ever thought about talkin' to someone about this?"
"Barnes," she snorts, "rule number one of being a time traveler is don't talk about it – if I told the shrinks that, oh I don't know, saw a dinosaur spontaneously combust in Victorian London with a lizard-woman, her wife, and their alien butler that looks strangely like a potato that might be crossing the line of sanity."
"I mean that sounds only a little less believable than my whole Hydra experience."
"The only thing that might come close to that for me, at least, is being turned into a Dalek, but you know, surprise! I don't quite remember that so we can't exactly exchange stories."
She's not trying to be funny, really, but Barnes lets out a deep chuckle and it's got such a nice ring to it, that she's making it her goal to get another one out of him (even if it kills her. Which, regarding both his and her line of work, just might.)
And then Barnes starts going on about Rogers' endless shenanigans; apparently he has always been a little shit – which doesn't surprise her in the least.
Clara isn't sure why Barnes tries to cheer her up on the floor in the kitchen for forty-three minutes, but she does appreciate it. He is blunt and brash and at times, crude, but he is kind; and kindness is something that Clara cannot refuse.
So, when those forty-three minutes are up, she stands up, thanking him whole heartedly for all that he's done for her, and wishes him good night.
And of course, he goes on about how it was his pleasure and flashes her a charming grin – one she's sure that has had other ladies swooning in the past (and by the past she means the forties, because she is quite certain the Winter Soldier did not smile or had time to fuss over women.)
Perhaps, Clara might once have been one of those women, but she is not the woman she once was – she is heartbroken and tired and trying to cope with what the universe doled out to her. She is also lonely, and while she would just like to avoid the lot of them, she does need a friend and Barnes seems like a pretty good candidate.
So, she picks her head up high and smiles right back. "See you around, Barnes."
"See you around, Oswald."
She makes her way out of the kitchen and through the common room (where she spies Rogers and Wilson being very cozy with each other, a very-much-asleep Clint, and a wide eyed and bushy tailed Natasha who offers Clara a wink.
Clara ignores her- much too deep in her own thoughts to even care about the implication.
Maybe she'll finally start to be reimbursed by the universe for what she lost. Granted, nothing can replace Danny or the Doctor or everything else, but at least Barnes might be able to fill the aching void of companionship that she's been feeling all too steadily for the past few months.
And even if he doesn't, well, she has nothing left to lose.
long time no see!
this has been bugging me for months and i finially finished the first chapter of four last night (while working my way through the tears mcr has granted me) hopefully some of y'all will read it (if so please let me know what you think! reviews/follows/favorites are always appreciated!)
i hope you all have a lovely day/night/morning and hopefully you'll be hearing from me soon
(the title was taken from a walk the moon song (Fixin) which you should go listen to bc its so so so so so so so so so good.)
bye bbs,
bleuboxes