Inspired by the story "24601" by Tron45. Lyrics borrowed from XAmbassadors, Renegades.
Long live the pioneers
Rebels and mutineers
Go forth and have no fear
Come close, the end is near.
Standing on the filthy floor of the auction stage, Clara watched as another slave- Adam Mitchell- was sold off to a cruel looking man. She gave Adam a look that said ''Fuck you" as he was led away. Nobody liked Adam.
Unexpectedly, she felt a whip crack against her back, throwing her to the floor and face planting. With some difficulty she sat up and spat the blood out of her mouth.
"Up, bitch," the guard said, and none-too-kindly hauled her to the podium where she would be sold. She only got a glance at the crowd before her head was forced down.
Rule number one: Look down. Never look up, cause then you'll just stare at the face of cruelty.
Clara listened as they bid for her, resisting the urge to look at whoever was buying her.
"Let's see all of her!" One man cried, and Clara was suddenly forced to turn around. Her slave clothes really exposed most if her, so she didn't need to take those off. One man wolf-whistled at her. Clara caught the look of another slave she didn't know while she was turned around. He looked at her with sadness. Clara returned it.
Rule Number Two: It's a team effort. Never turn on your fellow slaves unless they've turned on you. (Like Adam.)
She suddenly was grabbed by the arm and reflexively tried to flinch back. The grip softened, and she found herself looking into sharp blue eyes. Quickly, she ducked her head as the guard tied her up.
"Yer new master," he growled. "Good rid'ance ta you, 947." He pushed her to the floor again. Clara heard him say to her new master, "She's a ri' problem, tha' one. Ha' to cut 'er vocal cords ou' jus' ta stop 'er from screamin'."
Her new master said nothing, and Clara couldn't see his expression. She saw black boots in front of her and she flinched, waiting for a kick, but instead saw a face. It smiled at her, and she looked down again. Her new master helped her up to her feet.
Clara looked at him in astonishment.
Rule Number Sixty-Nine: If they're nice to you, be suspicious.
Her master turned and quickly walked out of the room, not bothering to look and see if Clara was following. It was either him or the guard, and Clara chose him.
She followed him outside to where a carriage was waiting. She waited until he turned to another lady wearing a veil.
"This is 947," he said. "I don't know her real name, and she can't talk. Do you know sign language?" He asked turning to her.
Clara nodded her head, then jingled her shackles to say she couldn't really sign anything right then.
"Ah, yes," her master said. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the card that would unlock her chains. He held up the card in front of her. "Can't lose this," he said, with half a smile on his face. She gave him an odd look, but he just grinned back at her and unlocked her hands.
"So, how much do you know?" Her master asked.
Clara held up two fingers, slightly apart. (A little bit.)
"Oh," he replied. "Well, if you can't talk, we'll just have to teach you."
Actually, Clara could talk. The guard hadn't been lying when he said he'd cut out her vocal cords, but for some reason, because they usually don't tend to heal, they came back. She could talk, she just didn't prefer to as it was an advantage. She'd suspected long ago that she'd caught some extra Time Lord regeneration energy, and it had repaired them.
But she wasn't going to tell anyone that because it was against the law for slaves to steal anything, much less regeneration energy.
Her master yanked open the door to the carriage. "Madame Vastra," he said, bowing and motioned her in. "You don't have to act like that," she berated him.
"But you're a lady! It's custom."
"Old laws, Doctor, old customs. Nobody does that anymore."
He grinned. "I do."
Madame Vashtra rolled her eyes and got in.
"947," the Doctor said, motioning in the carriage.
Clara looked up, startled. She was supposed to ride in there? With him?
"Yes, you ride in here with me and Vash," he said, as if he was answering her unasked question. Cautiously she approached the carriage, and she climbed in, sitting on the seat opposite Vashtra.
"Strax," she heard the Doctor call, "Bring us home, please."
"Right away, sir," and Clara heard the snap of the reigns. She flinched involuntarily. She looked up to see the Doctor looking at her uncertainly.
She made a fist with her right hand and rubbed it on her left side of her chest. (Sorry.)
"There's nothing to apologize for," he said quietly. Clara looked down at the carriage floor and her bare feet. Nobody said anything until they reached their destination. They all got out of the carriage, Clara going first, and they all walked up to the door. A handsome looking man opened it.
"Ah, Jack," the Doctor greeted, as did Vashtra.
"Hello, sir," he bowed.
"Now Jack," the Doctor began but Jack just laughed and let them all in. Clara paused for a moment to take in the foyer.
Off to the right there was a kitchen, and to the left was a hallway going Rassilon-knows-where and in front of her there was a large staircase with a balcony. The walls were painted a cream color, and there was white carpet covering the staircase room and wood floors in the foyer. She turned to look at the kitchen and found everyone staring at her. She swallowed and looked down.
"Jack, page Martha and tell her to prepare a bath for Clara and give her a full exam. If she needs anything, she knows where the TARDIS is. I'll be in my study, if you need anything."
"Yes, sir," Jack said. He turned to Clara.
"Look around. We don't bite. Martha will find you in a few minutes and give you a check up, then you can have a bath. Come to the kitchen when you're done, and Jackie and Rose will have a meal ready for you." He walked off.
Clara watched him leave and then took another look at the staircase room. She might get the carpet dirty, and she'd be exploring the kitchen later, so she decided to go explore the hallway. There were three doors on the left and two on the right. There was a bend after that. Clara decided she'd look into it later. She opened the first door apprehensively, but when nothing happened, she looked in.
A laundry room.
She closed the first door and moved to the one on the right. It was a crafts room with many papers and glue and everything you'd need to make anything. She opened the next door on the right, and it was more or less the same, just with string and yarn and cloth. The second door on the left was a pantry, stocked with food. Clara quickly closed it and moved in to the third one which looked like a medbay. She guessed Martha spent a lot of time in here.
She turned to the door after exploring this room, but there was the Doctor standing there. She gasped and jumped back.
"Sorry," he said. He leaned against the door frame.
Suddenly the intercom next to him buzzed. "Sir, Martha's at the pharmacy. She went to pick up more supplies."
The Doctor hit the button for his reply. "Thank you, Jack, I'll take care of it."
The Doctor stared at her, even though she had lowered her head again.
"You don't have to keep doing that," he said. "Not here."
Clara looked at him through her bangs.
"Can you talk? At all?"
She stared at him.
"Well," he said. "I can fix that." He crossed the room and put his hand to her throat. Clara immediately fought against him. She'd been choked once and was determined to not have it happen again. She threw him to the ground and took a step back.
"Wow," he groaned, sitting up. "You could teach the karate class." He stood up and looked at Clara. She was trembling.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I probably should've told you what I was doing first. I was going to regenerate your vocal cords. Are you okay?"
She nodded shakily.
Then she opened her mouth and said, "Y-you don't ha-ave to."
"So you can talk."
"...Y-yeah."
"Why didn't you before?"
Clara closed her eyes as if the question pained her. "It- it's easier n-not to."
"Oh." He understood. "As a self defense thing?"
She nodded.
"Well," he began, "Martha's out in Chinatown buying more medicine- do you want me to do your check up?" In response to her side eyes, he said, "All of my charges get a check up, their own room, and food. No one is treated badly. You can look anywhere; that's not a beating rod or whip anywhere."
"Oh."
"What's your real name?" The Doctor asked, steering the conversation around to that particular subject.
"Clara. Clara Oswin Oswald, slave Number 947, sir."
"That's a very nice name. Except the number part. I hate those numbers."
"I...think we can do that c-check up n-now, sir."
"Alright." He led her over to the white bed where she sat. He got out a few bandages and a slave, then turned back to her. "For your back," he explained, then set to work.
"So," he said, "you seem to not stutter when you said your name. Why is that?"
Clara spoke barely above a whisper. "I've got a st-stutter out of f-f-fear, sir, and m-my name is th-the only thing that t-they can't take aw-way from me."
"Oh. Well, I'm sure that stutter will go away with time. Would you like me to arrange speech lessons with Donna? She does have a mouth."
Clara laughed softly, and the Doctor grinned. He finished tying the bandages and stood up.
"This," he began, taking out a small remote with a single button on it, "is a scanner. It scans you for other injuries and tells me what's healthy." He pressed the button and blue waves came out of it. They bounced to Clara, then bounced into the air and formed words in Circular Gallifreyan for the Doctor to read.
She watched as his expression went from aloof to serious. He looked from her to the words, to her, then to the words, then to her.
"This... this... Wow. It- this- it's just..." he stared for a moment, then shook his head. "You've been through a lot, haven't you?" His eyes were full of kindness, and she found herself inexplicably drawn to look at him.
The intercom buzzed again. "Sir, Martha just called; she'll be here in around five minutes."
"Thank you, Jack. Tell Jackie to please make a pot of tea; I'm suddenly drained. Have Rose deliver it to my study."
"Yes, sir."
He turned around and saw Clara looking at the words in the air with confusion.
"Can you read?" He asked. Clara jumped but relaxed somewhat when she saw who it was.
"No. I wasn-nt ever taught, sir."
The Doctor ruffled his gray hair. "This really is beyond me and this room. Come with me." He started out of the room, Clara following. He pried her for some more information about herself on the way to wherever they were going.
"Where are you from?"
"I used to l-live in a smaller v-v-village on the r-river of Lethe, sir," she said with a small smile. "My mot-ther and grandmother ran the h-house."
"What about your father?" The Doctor inquired, heading up the staircase.
Clara seemed to lose her energy about her family. "He... was..."
"You don't have to," the Doctor said, realizing his mistake.
"N-no, it- it's f-f-fine, sir. Can I just s-say... I d-didn't just get th-this stutter fr-from my m-masters, sir."
"I'm sorry," he said, with a genuine voice. "Once, I played on the banks of the river of Lethe with my best friend. He nearly drowned."
Clara giggled softly at this as they arrived at a blue box. The Doctor opened the door and went in. She followed.
Clara was used to TARDISes; many of her masters had had at least one. She had been forced to clean the console room and many times their private bedrooms, as well as many other rooms. She just had never seen one so... disorganized. She took in the room. There were a few flubbles hanging on some wires from the cieling, and she could see some flutterwings flying around. There were Rovies scattered about.
"Do you like animals?" She asked, forgetting in awe of this place how scared she was.
She heard the Doctor chuckle. "Can you tell? Really?"
Clara watched in fascination as one flubber climbed down onto the console and over to her. "This is Gandosafroliwinataradru. She loves to meet new people." Gandosafroliwinataradru came up to Clara and sniffed her arm. She made a sort of crowing sound and began climbing the Time Rotor.
"She likes you," the Doctor said. Gandosafroliwinataradru jumped onto Clara's shoulders. They both laughed and continued to the medbady. When Clara stepped through the threshold, she felt a tingly sensation all over her body and she felt a whole lot better.
"That's better. See, the TARDIS heals you the minute you step through the door unless it requires more work, like brain damage or something. You're totally healed."
"Wow," Clara breathed, and Gandosafroliwinataradru twittered her excitement.
"Now, I'll show you to your room and you can get a change of clothes and a bath, alright? Come see me in my study when you're done." The Doctor directed her to a large oak door with a four poster bed and master bathroom. She looked at the taps for the bath and was surprised to find warm water.
"Alright Gandosafroliwinataradru, you'll have to get off now." Now that she was alone, her stutter disappeared. She wasn't used to the kindness bestowed upon her, but she knew when she was alone nothing would happen.
After her bath, she looked in the closet next to her bed and found a silk blue dress and put it on. It felt good against her scarred skin and she thought she looked beautiful in it. She put her old clothes in the trash chute.
She went down back into the foyer, after having found Gandosafroliwinataradru asleep on her bed, so she left her there. She went into the kitchens and found Jack there.
"Hey," he greeted. "Want a tour?"
"Ah, no," Clara said nervously. "I-I'm supposed to- to be in h-his office? I don't k-know where that is."
"Right this way," Jack announced, and he led her around the corner of the hallway she'd been prohibited from exploring. There was a single door- the Doctor's study. She knocked four times on the door, softly.
"Enter," she heard a voice say. She opened the door and sitting there were two men, one was the Doctor, and the other was facing away from her, so she couldn't tell.
"Ah, Clara. Just in time. I do believe that we had a pot of tea ready from Jackie? Will you get it, please?"
"Yes, sir," Clara said and fetched the pot of tea (after being introduced to everyone in the kitchens). She knocked again and brought in the tea, setting it down on the desk between the man and the Doctor.
"When you give it to 'em," she remembered Jackie saying, "Stand on the Doctor's left side, behind him, so you're there when he needs ya."
Clara assumed her position, and caught the man's face. She took an involuntary gasp and stepped back a step. One of her old masters!
"947," he said, a little menacingly. "I never knew you could talk."
Clara could only stare at him with her mouth hanging open. Would the Doctor sell her back?
The Master stood up and walked over to his former slave, much closer to her than Clara or the Doctor would have liked.
"Oh, my," he purred, "Still got it, have we? Is he treating you well?" He caressed her arm. Clara didn't answer right away, still getting over her shock.
"I asked you a question!" He slapped her, hard across the face. Clara made no noise except the one of falling against the wall.
"Excuse me!" The Doctor interrupted. "That is my property you are damaging!"
"She was mine first, Doctor." He turned to Clara. "Get up," he commanded. Clara got up immediately, not wanting a kick to her stomach.
"How much can I have for her, Doctor?"
"She's not for sale, Master."
The Master took out his anger by punching Clara in her shoulder promptly dislocating it. This time she cried out and fell to the floor.
"Stop," the Doctor said. "She's mine. Not for sale. And you will potentially owe me a slave if you kill this one."
The Master glared and bared his teeth, but said nothing. He kicked Clara once more and stalked out of the room.
"You haven't seen the last of me!" He yelled as he left.