The Bells Of St. John Pt. 1

If there was one thing John Smith never did, It was make House calls. That was always left up to Ten or Twelve, as both of them were much better suited for social interaction. But John, also known as Eleven by his many siblings, was an awkward, scrambling mess of limbs and words. He'd never been good with people of any kind; it wasn't really his thing. He preferred to stay at the office in his Cloud, until the days end. He rather liked his Cloud anyway. The interior walls were painted the same shade of police blue as his car, and there were pictures of all his good friends set about. Rose, Rory, Amy, Jenny and Vastra, and then one of them all together. That picture was his favorite. There was even a picture of his ex-wife, River, though it was slightly turned off to one side so her face was obscured by reflection.

But the young woman who had called him at half past three was completely and utterly hopeless. She might as well have been from a completely different century. John spent precisely two hours on the phone with her, trying to set up her new computer, but she still claimed it wasn't working. So, against his better judgement, John had collected the woman's address for a house call. It was a rarity, but she needed the utmost assistance in her technological feats, and it was John's job to help her succeed in that. So here he was now, sitting in his police blue Delorean outside a rather nice townhome. It looked like all the others on the block did, painted a neat creme, with two floors and a garage. Exhaling deeply, John ran a hand through his mop of hair, grabbed his bag and exited the TARDIS. (That was his cars name, the TARDIS.)

Galloping awkwardly across the grass and towards the front door, John lifted a hand to knock. He hesitated for only a moment before he began to pound rapidly on the wood. Not knowing if whomever inside had heard him, he rang the doorbell a few times as well for good measure.

"I hear you! I'm coming!"

The voice inside the house was slightly muffled. And as John stood awkwardly on the doorstep waiting, he froze when a thudding reached his ears. It was like something had been tossed down the stairs, a ball or perhaps a piece of furniture. Then it was eerily silent as John knocked again.

"Hello! Miss Oswald? Hello?"

He had heard her calling just a few seconds ago. Frowning, John had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he leaned down and picked up the edge of the doormat. There was a key, neat and silver, tucked underneath. Grabbing it without a second thought, John fiddled with the doorknob, letting himself into the house.

"Miss Oswald!"

A young woman with brunette hair was collapsed at the base of the stairway, unmoving as John kneeled at her side, placing two fingers against the side of her exposed neck. Her pulse was strong, but there was a slight cut at her hairline, one which was oozing and beginning to bruise. She must have fallen down the stairs in her rush and smacked her head on the banister. Taking the woman's neck in his hand, John fought the urge to lean in and kiss her forehead. That always made him feel better, whenever he got hurt. Instead, he gently removed his fingers and hauled Clara's entire body up into his arms. She was surprisingly small and light for a full grown woman, and it was easy for John to carry her figure out to the TARDIS. She needed to see a Doctor, a real Doctor, and John knew just the one.

Strapping her in, John hopped into the front seat, tearing off down the street toward his own house. It wasn't far away, and Ten was probably home from the Hospital by now. On the way, a small groan escaped from Clara's lips. Glancing at her sideways, John reached over a hand and tapped her shoulder,

"Miss Oswald? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer, only other groan and a pained wince as John inhaled and exhaled. This was much to much excitement for him, "listen, I'm taking you to a Doctor, alright? Clara?"

Again, no answer as the woman lapsed back into unconscious silence. Thankfully, the ride wasn't a long one, and John was soon pulling into the driveway. The Smith home was big and bold, and was painted a deep navy color with white trim. The porch light was on, meaning someone had already passed through the doorway. Putting the TARDIS in park, John quickly grabbed Clara, holding her close to his chest as he hurried through the doorway. Amazingly enough, Ten was already coming down into the entry when he saw them.

"Eleven?" His voice sounded alarmed as John said nothing, running to the living room and laying Clara's figure gently on the sofa, "Eleven, who is this? What happened?"

"I-I well I made a house call," John didn't know what to do with his hands, and resorted to playing with them as he spoke, "she needed help with her internet. And I was there and she must have-have fallen down the stairs. I didn't...know what to do so I brought her here…"

"Alright, alright calm down. She'll probably be fine." Ten nodded at his brother and leaned down, pressing his fingers to Clara's neck, then gently pressing on places around her skull, "I think she just knocked her head on something. Her pulse is strong, her colour is normal,"

"John? Where'd you go?" Both John's turned at their name. Martha Jones had come down the stairs. She looked freshly showered, and her dark hair was pulled into a bun, "oh, sorry, am I disrupting something?"

"Not at all, Martha," Ten stated, waving a hand to the woman as she approached the sofa. Martha was Dr. Smith's nursing student. And though the relationship was purely platonic, the young woman found company in Ten's energetic presence, and often came back to the house to shower and chat after long shifts. "Tell me, what is the best course of action here?"

"Awe, the poor thing," Martha touched Clara's forehead with a gentle hand as her dark brows furrowed, "I suggest an ice pack and some tape for that cut, then lots of fluids and bedrest. She should be conscious again in a few hours,"

"I concur. Can you grab the first aid kit from the kitchen?" Martha nodded slightly and vanished again as Ten placed a hand on John's shoulder, "she'll be just fine, so buck up. I think Miss…"

"Clara."

"Miss Clara would be more comfortable in the guest bedroom. She'll be asleep for a good while I think, best give her an appropriate bed."

John nodded slightly as he looked down at Clara. It was his fault this happened. He shouldn't have ever made a house call in the first place. It wasn't his thing. Nonetheless, John gently wove his hands under Clara's figure, hoisting her up into his arms again as he slowly made his way up the flight of stairs and to the second floor. There were lots of bedrooms in the house, 13 to be exact for the boys and Eleven's one sister. But there were also a few guest bedrooms, one of which John opened. Gently, he tucked Clara under the unruffled sheets, standing aside as Martha appeared with the first aid kit and her medical experience. She patted John's shoulder with a smile and waved a hand,

"Why don't you go find some things to make this room a little more vibrant, yeah? I'm just going to fix up this cut,"

"O-ok," bobbing his head, John left the bedroom. Something to make the room vibrant? What did that even mean? Shaking his head, John scowerred the top floor, finding some flowers which his sister no doubt brought home. He also collected up a pitcher of water and a class, and the last package of Jammy-Dodgers from the secret stash in his room. And as Martha worked, John set everything up on the bedside table, more or less to keep himself occupied in the quiet. He poured a glass of water, set the flowers into an empty beer mug, and dropped the Jammy's onto a plate. But not before sneaking a bite of one, of course.

Eventually Martha left, and John fell into the nearby desk chair, watching Clara sleep. Creepy, maybe so. But he wanted to make sure she was really ok. He felt so responsible after all, for everything that happened to her. Lots of busy work and a few awkward phone calls later, John himself began to doze off, only to be awoken again by mumbling. Clara's eyelids were fluttering, not in consciousness, but in dream. Leaning closer as to hear what she was saying, John had to stop breathing in order to make out the phrase.

"Doctor" the title was spoken as a name, hoarse and broken as Clara tossed in the bed, "Run…" she seemed pained as her eyebrows knitted together, "run you clever boy. And remember…"

As quickly as the words were spoken, they were gone, and Clara's eyes fluttered open. This revealed the largest and most beautiful pair of doe eyes John had ever seen. She looked confused and disoriented, blinking a few times before slowly moving to sit up.

"Hello,"

Clara started as she whipped her head around, only to wince and groan as she did so. John played with his hands as he stood from his seat, "are...you alright?"

"I'm in bed?"

"Yes,"

"Don't remember going."

"No."

"What'd I miss?"

"Oh, quite a lot actually," John fumbled in his back pocket, holding up a white mobile phone as well as a small yellow notepad, "uhm, Angie called, she said she'd be staying over at Nina's. Apparently that's completely fine and that you shouldn't worry like you always do, for God's sake, get off her back. Uh, your dad phoned, mainly about the government, he seemed rather cross with them. I've got several pages on that…" John flipped through the pages of his handwriting before tucking it away, "I fixed the squeaking in the washing machine, indexed the kitchen cupboards, maximized the photosynthesis in the main flower bed, and assembled the bicycle in the garage…"

"The what?" Clara looked generally confused, holding her head as John frowned in sympathy,

"The bicycle? Well, it doesn't look much like a bicycle but it's close enough."

Clara seemed more confused then she was before as her fingers ghosted across the cut on her forehead,

"What happened to me?"

"You...don't remember?" John felt nervous about her health. Maybe she had amnesia? Maybe she had completely forgotten herself and her life and would have to start over anew. That wouldn't be good, not at all!

"I was scared," Clara said after a while of thinking, cocking her head slightly to one side as she rested against the headboard. "Really scared. I didn't know where I was." Glancing around, the woman screwed up her face in an adorable manner, "still don't. Where am I?"

"You're at my house." John meant that in a sincere way, but it came out more stalkerish then expected as he mentally face palmed. You don't just say that to a girl. "I mean...you fell down the stairs, at your place. Knocked your head. My brother is a Doctor, so I brought you here...just in case,"

"Oh…thank you I guess? It's not my place, actually, I'm just a friend of the family. What were you doing there?"

"You called me about the Internet,"

"That was you?"

"Course it was me. I was going to make a house call. Don't know why, you just seemed like you needed the help. You're welcome, anyway. My name is John, but people also call me Eleven. The Predator, the oncoming storm…"

"Doctor?" Clara's voice stopped him as John blinked,

"That's a new one, more suited to my brother I think. But, if you'd like,"

"I remember...we were flying, and you told me your name. It was Doctor, just the Doctor,"

John quirked a lip. That moment in the car, Clara must have been halfway between dreams. It felt like they were flying, but they were driving. And John had mentioned that they were going to see a Doctor. She must have thought that was his name. "Doctor who?"

"I rather like that, actually," John stated, rolling on the balls of his feet with a smile, "Doctor who,"

Before the pair could exchange any more words, there was a knock on the doorframe and Martha popped her head in,

"Ello! Just came to check in. Glad to see you're feeling better, love,"

"Much, thank you,"

"How's the headache?"

"Horrible,"

"Good, I'd be worried if it wasn't. My name is Martha Jones, and obviously you've already met Eleven."

"Clara Oswald," Clara smiled as Martha nodded, disappearing from the doorway.

"Oswald?" John couldn't help his blurting out, as his brows fixed into place. He knew an Oswald once, a very perky, slightly flirty Oswald, "you...don't happen to have siblings, do you Clara?"

"Yeah, I do. How'd you know that?"

"I think I...well...I thought your voice sounded familiar on the phone. And now I know why. I must have met you sister. Oswin, yeah?"

"Talk about a small world." Clara seemed intrigued as she leaned forward on her crossed knees, "I haven't seen Oswin myself in a good few years. When did you meet her?"

"A little while back. I decided I wanted to rough it, and took a trip out to Alaska with some friends of mine. Picked up Oswin's signal on the two way transmitter in my fishing boat. She was good company, very flirty. Kept makin' fun of my chin."

"Yep, that sounds like Oswin. Alaska. So that's where she ran off to," Clara rubbed her jaw in thought, "she was a brilliant girl, a genius even in robotics and engineering. But she never really fit in at Uni. Wanted to see things, to travel. She hooked a job with the DALEK Company in America and practically vanished. Haven't talked to her since,"

"Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes." Clara shrugged and tucked some hair behind her ear, biting her lip, "sometimes it feels like she wasn't even real. Like she was just an echo in my life, created so I wouldn't be lonely...oh my god, I'm sorry," Clara laughed lightly and shook her head, "I shouldn't be bothering you with this sappy stuff."

"No, no. It's no trouble at all. Sometimes I wish my siblings would just go away. It's not easy being a child of 13,"

"13? You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Nope," John popped the 'p' in his statement as he fell back into the office chair with a grunt, "and we all share the same name. It's a long story, that one,"

"Wait, so let me get this clear. You have 13 siblings, and all of them are named John?"

"Yes. That's why we go by numbers. Well, except my sister Sarah Jane. But Jane is a female version of John so I guess the tradition continues,"

"Wow. That's some tradition," Clara ran a hand across the back of her neck. Drinking her in, John couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, with perfectly straight brown hair, angular features and those giant brown eyes. Even so, he could see how tired she looked. After all, unconsciousness wasn't necessarily a restful experience.

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Clara turned her head slightly, an eyebrow raising. The way the light from the windows shined on her face softened up her features, and practically made her glow. John couldn't help but smile around Clara, she was perfectly infectious. An Impossible Girl.

"Are you guarding me?"

"Yes." John didn't feel bad admitting it, "Yes, I am. Which is why you should go to sleep. Because you're safe now, I promise," Standing, John gave a small salute and clicked his heels as he walked to the door and flicked off the light, "goodnight, Clara,"

Leaving the room, John stood out in the hall for a few moments, listening. Clara didn't seem to be getting up, perhaps she did go back to sleep? He couldn't find it in him to leave to another part of the house, as his worry still ebbed at him. His thoughts were filled with Clara. Her safety and well-being, her beautiful eyes and smile, her laughter. John shook his head as he observed the carpet under his shoes. Cautiously and as quietly as possible, he turned on a heel and opened the bedroom door again. His original thought had been correct. Clara was hidden in the bed sheets, warm and fast asleep. Smiling and happy that she was ok, John closed the door and shoved both hands into the pockets of his jacket. All he had to do now was find some way to entertain himself until she woke up again. Oh joy.

A/N: Hello all! Rose here, back with the beginnings of a new story :) This is basically a retelling of Season 7, but as a Human AU, and with some Whouffle fluff in between. There will probably be some mutual Whoffauldi/Alloswin friendship in this story as well at some point. And I know that Human AU's have already been done (it's certainly not new) but I wanted to take a stab at it myself. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this amazingly long chapter (they won't all be this long I hope), and until next time! Geronimo!