Another short fic. This sort of goes along with "Not In Love", which is from Clara's POV and this is from the Doctors. One doesn't need to be read to understand the other. They are stand-alone.
I'm very much a one-shot kind of writer so there will most definitely be more from me.
Italics taken from the show itself.
Reviews and feedback are wonderful.
Disclaimer: I don't know anything. Just borrowing.
Clara sometimes asks me if I dream. "Of course I dream," I tell her, "Everybody dreams."
"But what do you dream about?" She'll ask.
"The same thing everybody dreams about, I tell her, "I dream about where I'm going." She always laughs at that.
"But you're not going anywhere, you're just wandering about."
Maybe it was true. Actually, it was absolutely true. He wandered a lot, but he was running toward things, not away from him. Most times there was a goal in mind.
Clara knew him better than he knew himself at times. But that conversation they'd had, she didn't seem to see through his lie. There was a chance they could have saved Gallifrey. That the dreams he had about where he was going, was to his home. Back to Gallifrey if he could find it.
His Clara, though. He dreamed of her. When they were apart, he thought of her constantly.
Maybe she wasn't the first face that his face saw and maybe she wasn't seared onto his hearts. His relationship with her was very different from the ones he had with past companions. Clara was under his skin, running through his veins, wired through the circuits in his brain. In a way, she had become a part of him.
He didn't sleep often, it wasn't something Time Lords needed like humans did. But when he did sleep, or rest his eyes, he dreamed of Clara. Her big brown eyes, her hair, how she didn't stand for his bullshit. She was her own person, independent, she didn't see him as a hero and it was a different for him. Often times she had to remind him of who he was.
He was the Doctor, but he viewed himself as her Doctor.
It scared him that he occasionally thought of giving it all up for her. His Tardis, the time vortex, the journeys the took and the worlds they saved.
Domesticity wasn't his thing and Clara had never asked such a thing of him, never suggested it. They weren't together. She understood the fine line between humans and Time Lords. He yearned to cross that line.
In the end, his companions always left him. He knew it wouldn't be long before Clara did. She wanted to establish a life of her own earth. He wanted to follow her, try and be a human. It didn't quite work like that. Nothing was ever that easy.
He found himself shutting his eyes more, seeing vision on the back of his eyelids. Stories playing out before him.
In his dreams, Clara Oswald was absolutely his.