Blackness. That's all. I don't even know if my eyes are open, or if I have eyes to open.
"Doctor...Doctor, she's waking up."
"About time! You handle her, I'll take the controls."
"Oh no. You're the Doctor here. We aren't going anywhere anyway. I'll watch it."
"But Clara, she's my TARDIS! Clara..."
Silence.
"Clara?"
Another, longer pause.
"Oh, alright, you impossible girl."
"Somehow that didn't sound like a compliment." She sounds amused.
"It wasn't," the man mutters.
Footsteps. A hand touches my forehead, smooths my hair back. A soft yellow glow - I must at least be alive. Then the light turns green, and I hear a noise...I recognize this noise.
"Okay, girl, you've slept long enough for a human...I think...anyway...Wake up!"
The girls jolted awake, brown eyes wide with alarm and confusion. Her hands darted about her, feeling her legs, face, hair, as though checking to make sure everything was there. The Doctor grinned and sat back on his heels, tucking his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket.
"Well. Good! Still alive after all!. I was beginning to wonder if...well, never mind that."
Slowly sitting up, the girl hesitantly asked, "Who...who are you? Where am I? What happened?"
"Oh, excellent, introductions and we aren't even in a hurry!" cried the Doctor, bounding to his feet and helping the dazed girl up. "I'm the Doctor."
The girl stared. "Doctor who?"
"Oh, I love that bit," said the Doctor, beaming. "Just the Doctor, the eleventh, to be precise. Last of the Time Lords, from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous, over a thousand years old, you'll pick it up, they always do. And this," he said, turning to grin at the petite woman behind him, "is my lovely companion, Clara Oswin Oswald. My Impossible Girl. She's been traveling with me for a while now, and...what?"
The poor girl's face had gone from confused to baffled to utterly lost. "You're not making a bit of sense!"
"Of course I'm making sense!" the Doctor said, sniffing and running a hand through his hair. "You're just not keeping up."
Clara snorted. The Doctor shot her an annoyed glance, which she met with a raised eyebrow and just a hint of a smile. "Fine," he said, adjusting his large red bow tie. "So, that answers who we are, now what did you want to know next?" This last bit was directed at the girl, who was slowly shaking a her head.
"Everything!" she blurted.
"I believe 'Where am I?' was the next question," Clara inserted dryly.
"Ah, yes, excellent," said the Doctor, whirling around and kissing her on the cheek. She laughed, but made no effort to shove him away. "This," he cried, spinning back around just as quickly and flinging his arms wide, "is my TARDIS!"
"Start from the beginning, please," the girl said, seeming to get over her shock. "Assume I know nothing. What is a TARDIS?"
"TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, don't you know anything?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "She's my spaceship, if you will. She can take us anywhere in time and space, absolutely anywhere and anywhen you want to go. I stole her," he added, not looking the least bit ashamed. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. She is my everlasting companion," he said fondly, patting the large central console. "Usually she behaves, but every so often something goes wrong, something unexpected happens, some mistake...like bringing you here, for example," he said, turning his attention back to the girl now leaning on the outer railing.
"Thanks," she said, with a hint of a smile. "I just love being people's mistakes."
"Well, get used to it," said the Doctor. Before she could ask him what he meant, he had pulled out his screwdriver again.
"And what, pray tell, is that?" the girl asked cautiously, backing away.
"Sonic screwdriver," he said causally, flipping it into the air and catching it again. "Very good for opening doors, fixing things...no use on wood, though, don't know why...Now if I could just have a look at you...hey!"
The girl had made a break for the door. Before either Clara and the Doctor could stop her, she pushed the door open.
"What the..." she said softly, awed. For outside the plain doors was nothing but millions of stars, as far as the eye could see. After a long moment, she slowly turned and pulled the doors closed behind her. "I believe you now," she said quietly. "What do you need me to do?"
"Oh, nothing, really," the Doctor said, pulling her farther into the TARDIS. "Just stand still. And," he added, pressing the button on his screwdriver, "don't be afraid, that's very important."
"Yes, don't start now," piped Clara from around the console. "There's so much more to terrify you than just the screwdriver."
"Not helping, Clara," the Doctor said. The girl stood very still as the Doctor darted around her, looking like an overlarge moth fascinated by someone's porch light.
"I recognize that noise," she said, still frozen. "The screwdriver noise. I know that. I've heard that before."
"Have you?" said the Doctor curiously, pausing in his scanning. "How odd. And what's even odder..." He shut the screwdriver and returned it to his pocket, giving her a look she couldn't begin to decipher. "Who are you?"
"I'm...I..." the girl started, but then stopped. Clara, watching intently, saw a look of deep confusion and distress settle on the younger girl's face like a shadow. "I don't know."
"What's your name?" he persisted. "How old are you? Why are you here? Where have you heard the screwdriver before?"
"I don't know," she said again. "I don't know anything. Not who I am, not why I'm here...I search my memory and come up with nothing. Only stars." Silent tears dripped down her face.
For the first time, Clara looked at her, really looked at her. She appeared to be in her early twenties, only a few years younger than Clara herself. She had dark brown hair pinned up on her head, making a large enough bump that Clara guessed her hair would be quite long. Brown eyes, too, set deep in her pale face. She was taller than Clara, but not by much. Her face was dainty, almost elfin, with a mouth that naturally rested in a slight smile. It gave her a mysterious look, as though she knew something no one else did. Although in this case, Clara reflected, the opposite seemed to be true. A wave of pity washed over her, and she impulsively ran to give the girl a hug.
The girl practically fell into her embrace, weeping in earnest now. "There, there," Clara murmured, stroking her hair and sitting them both down on the steps that led up to the main level. "You'll be alright. We'll figure this out somehow. You don't know the Doctor. He's terribly clever, and he will go to any lengths to help his friends. Hush now." Clara kissed the sobbing girl's forehead, surprised at how motherly she felt.
Looking up, she saw the Doctor standing rather helplessly by the console. "Make yourself useful, can't you?" she said brightly. "Make a cup of tea or something." She watched as he scuttled sheepishly off to some unknown corner of the TARDIS.
"But that's the thing," the girl said, watching him go. "I feel like I do know him. And you, too," she added, turning around so she could see Clara clearly. "I don't remember meeting you, or knowing you at all. But you seem so familiar, both of you. Like echoes of a past life."
Clara smiled ruefully. "I know exactly how you feel," she said with a sigh. "Past lives are bothersome things, aren't they?" She smiled at girl's curious expression. "A story for another day, I think,"she said, getting to her feet and pulling the taller girl up as well. "For now we'd best figure out what to do with you!"
"Er...would a good cup of tea be any help?"
The Doctor stood behind them, placing a tea tray precariously on the TARDIS's console. He brought a steaming mug over to the girl, who sipped gratefully. "Feeling better, then?" he asked kindly.
"Much, thanks," she said, a small smile. "Well, I still know nothing, if that's what you're asking."
"I really didn't expect you to," he replied, running his hands through his hair again. "Well, you at least need a name. We've got to call you something."
Suddenly, a horrible thought struck Clara. "Your name's not Clara Oswald, is it?"
The girl stared. "I don't think so...and isn't that your name?"
"You've never been to Victorian London? Never been a genius Dalek?"
"Not that I remember..."
"And none of that seems familiar at all."
"Not like you, no. Nothing like that."
"Good." Clara slumped back against the railing, relieved.
"Er...why? And what's a Dalek?"
"Spoilers," the Doctor said, and turned to smile at Clara. She smiled back, hesitating at the sudden, unexplained sadness in his eyes. For once, she thought, he really looked his age. Then he turned back to the girl, and the moment was gone.
"Anyway, we still need a name," he said briskly. "This really is far too unusual for a typical sort of name, I would say. But then, I've chosen my name. So. What would you like?"
The girl looked startled. "Choose my own name? Isn't that the job of the parents?"
Clara laughed. "Well, I don't quite think that's going to happen today."
"You can choose," the Doctor said seriously. "I did. But remember: your name is who you are, who you will be to all those you meet. Choose carefully."
The girl thought for a moment, then looked up, a small twisted smile on her face.
"If my name is who I am, I think I know just the thing." She paused, looking at each face before her, Clara curious and expectant, the Doctor almost apprehensive.
"Mystery."
A.N: Hello, all! I certainly hope you all like this. I started this for a Doctor Who fanfic contest run by the Facebook page Allon-sy!, and seeing as I haven't sent it in to them yet, I've no clue what they think, but I thought I'd post it here first! So. I've only ever written from books before, so a TV show is certainly a new experience! But I've greatly enjoyed being able to watch the actors come alive in my head, hearing them say the lines and all that. Except Mystery, of course. But please, my Whovian family, let me know how I've done! I'd love for some guidance in this, as I'm sort of venturing into unknown territory. Thank you all so much!
-Forever the Optimist