Something a little lighter this time. Still not much for me to say. Enjoy!
Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock
With Her
The sharp poke of the cane jolts her into awareness, but the sight of him is what truly shocks her into being. She'd been in space yet it had seemed only moments…not so judging by what she sees.
He's had a cane before, she recalls distantly as if from another life—which it was—but never this him, and something niggles at the back of her mind that this wasn't meant to happen.
No. It shouldn't have happened. She shouldn't have let him strand himself here while trying to send her away. And it doesn't matter if he's old now, he's always been old, and he's still the Doctor.
So she lets him have it, practically screaming in a real, proper fight, and he yells just as much though it strains his voice more than it would have minutes—centuries, centuries—ago.
And she's terrified not by the lines on his face but by the age they represent, because if he's been here hundreds and hundreds of years how can she even matter? Did he ever even think of her or wonder what she might have been doing? He seems to care enough to yell, at least, and that's good.
But when he pulls her tightly to him in a hug, she knows that everything will be alright. There may be countless of villagers here that he's spent lifetimes protecting and living with—but he'll still choose to watch the sunrise with her.
A little something for Clara then. Let me know what you think!