A/N: Just so you all know, before you read this, I LOVE the TARDIS, but I really wanted so explore a different side of the Clara/TARDIS relationship (or lack of one). I've searched round for stories in which the way Clara is treated by the TARDIS is more of an issue than something to laugh at, and have found nothing, but I thought it'd be really interesting to see what would happen if it was something more serious in the 'verse. Please read and review :)
Clara sighed and dropped onto the jump seat in the console room, watching the Doctor haphazardly dash around, pressing buttons and pulling levers in a mad dash to get them back into the time vortex and away from 17th Century France, where they were now wanted for crimes against the throne. Clara grimaced slightly. Louis XIII really didn't have much of a sense of humour. She rolled her shoulder, still throbbing painfully from her earlier fall when good old Louis had set his guards on her and the Doctor. The injury had happened when they came across a small river, and she had over-estimated her ability to jump with her slightly-too-short legs, and she had landed badly on her side.
She winced as the pain in her shoulder increased, and immediately ceased her attempts assess the damage herself. The Doctor must have noticed this, because he immediately stopped his dashing around and turned to stare at her, a look of light concern on his face. Clara morphed her expression into what she hoped was a neutral one. Ever since the events on Trenzalore, the Doctor's protectiveness increased ten-fold. At any sign of pain or discomfort, he began fussing over her and asking a thousand questions about her condition; were the memories of her echoes causing her head to hurt, did she feel dizzy, did she want to go and lie down for a few minutes. Always, her answer was the same. A small smile, a slight shake of the head and a remark along the lines of "I'm not an invalid, Chin Boy". This never really seemed to quite satisfy him, but he would let the subject drop, and it would be forgotten about. Not that his fussing bothered her or made her uncomfortable, she didn't mind that, but he was a busy, easily bored man, and any time he spent looking after her would only take away from the time he spent helping people who really needed it.
"Something wrong, Doctor?" she asked lightly, hoping he'd buy her act and not ask any questions.
His eyes narrowed a fraction, as if trying to figure something out. "Did you get injured earlier?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice. "When we were running from the guards?"
Her shoulders dropped a little. "'Course not, d'you really think I'd injure so easily? I'm fine. Stop worrying." She wondered if she'd said this a little too quickly when the Doctor's expression didn't change, or whether she was just being a bit too obvious. The TARDIS hummed and the Doctor glanced up at the ceiling, then back at her. Clara wondered what she'd told him, because he advanced slowly, and looked her up and down.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I can go and get something for you if you need me to."
"Doctor, seriously, I'm okay-"her speech was cut off as he placed a hand on her shoulder and she hissed in pain. The Doctor frowned. He tugged at the shoulder of her dress, ignoring her protests as it slipped off her shoulder to reveal a large nasty bruise forming. He let go and stood back, observing her face carefully.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he sounded a bit hurt, and she felt a pang of guilt at the look on his face.
"You had more important stuff to do than worry about me. Besides," she said, as he moved to interrupt, "it's just a bruise. Nothing exactly fatal, is it?"
His frown didn't lift. "Still though, I would've liked you to tell me." Now, a pang of irritation, at him, for his over concern, and at his stupid TARDIS, who must've told him to check her shoulder in the first place. "I'll go get you some ice for it." With this, he turned and left. The moment he was gone from the console room, the temperature dropped dramatically, not enough to freeze her, but enough to cause goosebumps to appear on her arms almost immediately. She frowned up at the ceiling of the TARDIS.
"Thanks for nothing," she muttered, and the time machine hummed in what seemed to be an amused, or smug manner. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, ignoring the increasing ache in her shoulder as she did so, in an attempt to stay warm. The TARDIS had a tendency to do this whenever it was just her in the room, and she always did her best to ignore it, because from her own experience, trying to fight the TARDIS never ended well. Now though, it was beginning to get on her nerves. It had started off with relatively harmless pranks. Hiding her bedroom, moving the swimming pool so whenever she entered a room she fell straight into it. Always annoying, but nothing malicious, at least until they had gone to Caliburn House. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened there that had soured her already non-existent relationship with the time machine so drastically. After that, the pranks became slightly more harmful than they had been, but only when the Doctor wasn't looking, of course.
He just found it all amusing whenever it wasn't obvious that whatever had happened had upset either Clara nor the TARDIS. She had hoped that after Trenzalore, when she had been "solved", the TARDIS might lighten up a little, considering everything that was now known, but it didn't really change anything. She sighed again, and recounted the occasions since Trenzalore when she had tried to make peace with the Doctor's oldest companion, and this only worsened her mood. Whenever she tried to talk to the TARDIS out loud, her words were ignored, not even met with the usual humming sounds made whenever the Doctor talked to her. She'd even started referring to the TARDIS as "her" in an attempt to make their situation more pleasant. This had certainly made the Doctor happy, but it had had no effect on his grouchy machine.
One day, when she was walking into the console room, the steps leading to it had disappeared completely and she had fallen face first onto the cold, hard floor. The steps had reappeared immediately, and in the Doctor's rush to make sure she was okay, had never even noticed that the steps had vanished.
Then there was the time she had decorated the console room when she and the Doctor decided to celebrate Christmas, but as soon as the Doctor had left, the TARDIS sent one of the heavy glass baubles flying towards her head from above, and she only just made it out of the way in time, as it smashed to pieces at her feet. The Doctor had come running back into the room a second later, a panicked look on his face, before his expression changed to one of great annoyance, and he scooped up the pieces of glass, lamenting over the fact it was extremely rare and had been given to him by the Queen of some alien planet whose name she didn't catch, and that he was now banished from for one reason or another. Clara had protested, said that the TARDIS smashed it, but after a series of angry noises from her, the Doctor simply dashed from the room to try and repair the bauble without a backwards glance, the TARDIS humming smugly in his wake.
After that, Clara had given up trying to fight her, or defend herself against anything she did. She stopped trying to make peace with her, or tell the Doctor when the TARDIS did something to upset her. Why would the Doctor believe her over the TARDIS, who he had been with for so long? "And why should he," she thought sadly. Long after she was gone, the TARDIS would still be there for him, and he would need her, so however much she wanted the Doctor to believe her, she couldn't risk disturbing his relationship with the sentient ship. Clara wanted her Chin Boy to be happy once she was gone for good, and she knew the TARDIS made him happy. Besides, it was obvious that the Doctor wasn't aware of any of the problems the TARDIS caused her, and honestly, recently she was just too tired all the time to say anything. She was still recovering from Trenzalore, an experience that had left her permanently exhausted.
"Alright," she said aloud to the ship. "You win. Not entirely sure what that'll mean for me, but you win." She waited. No response.
After another couple of minutes, the temperature in the room rocketed upwards again, stopping her shivering and announcing the arrival of the Doctor, who bounded into the room looking much happier than he had when he'd left it. Thinking about it, she still didn't know why the TARDIS had told him she was hurt, and she felt a twinge of irritation. She really hated not knowing.
Nevertheless, she put a grin on her face. "What's got you so happy Chinny?" she said lightly as he walked over to her, ice-pack in hand. He placed it over her injured shoulder, and she felt a numbing relief as the throbbing settled down a bit.
He smiled brightly. "Can't believe I forgot I had these!" he exclaimed. "Got them in the 26th Century. Normal ice-packs, but packed with tiny little nanogenes."
"Nanogenes?" she asked.
"Like really small doctors and nurses, to help heal the injury," he explained.
"Are they safe then?"
"They generally do a good job, but they have been known to... work too well. Saw it happen in World War Two, it wasn't pretty."
Her eyes widened in alarm, and me must have seen her reaction. "Not to worry, these ones are completely fine. They're put into the pack to have the added effect of fast healing along with the numbing from the ice. Good, eh?" He seemed so enthusiastic she couldn't help smile back at him, and after a while, he removed the pack, to reveal that the bruising was gone completely.
"Thanks," she said softly, and he smiled back, before his expression changed again.
"If you get injured again tell me, okay?" he said, a frown back in place.
"Yeah, alright. I just don't want you worrying, that's all," she murmured.
"I always worry about you, Clara. I want you safe. I don't like it when I know you're hurt. It makes me feel sad... or guilty. I always get those two mixed up this time around."
Ah, there it was. This revelation from the Doctor sent a wave of guilt crashing over her and she realised why the TARDIS had told him she was hurt. She had wanted Clara to feel the guilt the Doctor must feel all the time. "Well, it's certainly worked. Old cow," she thought angrily. "Why would the TARDIS ever do something nice for me, after all?"
"Thanks Chinny, think I'll go lie down for a while." They smiled at one another, and she stood, crossing the console room to the corridor that led to her bedroom. "I'll see you later," she smiled back at him.
After half an hour of walking, however, she came to another realisation. The TARDIS had deleted her room again. Great.
So that was the first chapter... Please let me know what you think, and BE HONEST! A writer can only grow with honest criticism after all! Let me know if you'd like to see more of the story, because I have some more chapters for it planned out already and I hope to update soon! :)