Firstly, I want to apologize for not finishing Antlers and Eggnog before Christmas. It is in the process of being finished I just got off track. Secondly, this is the first DW fan fiction I've written so reviews would be appreciated! Enjoy!
The TARDIS was a wondrous place, Clara Oswin Oswald the 3rd found. Anything she needed was always right around the corner, as if the Box was reading her mind. That theory was confirmed by the Doctor just as she was coming back from the kitchen.
"Yes, She does." He cut off the question about to be pulled from her lips. "Anything you need or want should always be close, especially if She likes you." He was smiling that little half smile he got when imparting new information, his eyes sparkling with something that looked like excitement. Wether it was pride in his Box or for just having companionship, she wasn't sure. Regardless, Clara let him explain the basics of navigating the TARDIS.
"If I'm ever not around just ask Her for help, or directions. You'll have to make your own food, though. For some reason Her sustenance materializer has been stuck on the cuisine of the Ood. I do like the Ood, just not their desserts." The Doctor then went into a detailed crash course on the Ood. Abruptly stopping, he grabbed her hand and sped off down the corridor, dragging her and shouting about the library. Even when he wasn't running away from something the man was running TO something. In this state of down time Clara had yet to see the Doctor slow down, or stop explaining, teaching or showing off. She hadn't seen him sleep or eat at all in the 3 days she'd been relaxing aboard the TARDIS. She hadn't even seen him stop moving. Questions about why he seemed so set on not resting floated around her head as she ran to keep up with his long-legged stride. The same gray, clinical walls lit by blueish orbs flew past while they made their way to the library. But, just as they were rounding their second corner a splash of gold caught Clara's eye. Quickly, she dug her heels into the floor and forced him to a stop.
"Easy there, Doctor, not everybody is a bowlegged racehorse. Besides, what's that?" The new companion gestured to the green-blue door surround by a ring of gold on all sides, like an artist had purposely not painted over one spot on a canvas. Not a word of answer came from the Doctor. Clara turned around to find him staring at the odd, misplaced door with lost, glazed eyes. His hand had tightened around hers unconsciously and his mouth was slightly agape. Only the sound of Clara's breathing floated around the tense hallway.
"Doctor?"She shook his death grip on her hand a little. The lost expression in his eyes snapped back to hers and she saw them harden. The grip on her hand was dropped. He spun around, lip curling, eyes set on some fixed point on the ceiling.
"Why?" The Doctor's voice came out in a mixture of a snarl and whimper. "Why is this here?" His hands were clenched and twitching at his sides.
"Doctor? What is it? What's behind the door?" Clara tried to pull his gaze away from the ceiling. He didn't move. His jaw locked and she could almost feel herself drowning in the waves of anger rolling off his shaking form. That blazing stare had yet to waver. The moment was teetering on a thin, invisible string, preventing either from moving or making a sound. And then, that precarious thread snapped.
"THEY ARE GONE!" It was a roar louder than anything she'd heard come out of his mouth before. "You know they are gone, you mourned with me! You were there! Again we were alone! Again I could do NOTHING. So why now? Why show this to me now?" He was screaming at the ceiling still, having completely ignored or forgotten Clara's presence. She stood in shock at the hidden, stationary hurricane erupting next to her.
"Doctor, please." This was not the man she'd been traveling with the past three days. Clara didn't understand how one mismatched door could have brought out such a reaction in a normally happy, excited being. She backed away from his shouting and turned to the door. It was different from the rest of the TARDIS, for sure. The handle looked slightly worn, like it had been used many times. There was obviously something important in Doctor still had yet to acknowledge her presence and curiosity ran rampant through Clara's blood. What better way to find out (and hopeful fix) what it was that was causing the Doctor so much strife than to go inside? However, just as she was reaching for the knob a hand circled around her arm. Dark, storming eyes met her own. The Doctor was no longer screaming, but this was worse. This was a crushing silence, made heavier by the tangible pain in the timelord's stayed locked in embargo for a few horribly slow seconds. She could feel his arm shaking with barely contained...something. Anger? Sadness? This was an entirely new Doctor to her.
"There is nothing good in there. Not anymore." He whispered and dropped his hand. Before Clara could even formulate a response he was gone, back down the corridors. She leaned back against the mysterious door. Confusion and curiosity ate at her brain while she tried to process everything that just taken place. Whatever lay behind this door had caused the Doctor to go half-mad and howl to the roof like a wounded animal. There could be something horribly devastating behind that door. That just made her need to know stronger. Very little caution was involved when her hand fell back to the knob and she opened that door. No terrible sight met searching eyes behind the mystery door. It was just a bedroom. A regular, slightly lived-in bedroom with a single king bed in the center. The walls were painted a pleasant red and posters of what looked like Van Gogh paintings were taped there. Two dressers and a chair with a reading lamp were the only other furniture. One dresser had a assortment of makeup on it and the other was mostly bare save for a few knickknacks. Some clothes were strewn about, male and female kinds. A scarf hung over the chair. Clara walked further in to investigate something so seemingly normal. Upon closer inspection everything seemed to have a thick layer of dust on it and the clothing looked stiff and untouched. She hadn't noticed before but a single closet sat next to the entrance, obscured from view. Why not start with the closet? The closet's handle had a similar layer of dust attached to it, which came of and stuck to Clara's hand when she opened it. Of all things, she was not expecting to find bronze armour and a sword hanging on the inside of the door. It looked very out of place among the row of coats and sweaters. Very strange. Aside from that strange discovery, everything else in the room seemed completely normal, if untouched. Clara wandered over to the knickknack dresser. A book, a comb, a pair of sunglasses, a framed picture and a...trowel? What use would a trowel be on the TARDIS? Was there a garden? Probably. She shook her head and reached for the picture frame. The photo inside showed a young couple standing on the steps of a house with a dark blue door, smiling. The woman was a redhead and very beautiful. The man had brownish hair and was pretty easy on the eyes as well. They looked ecstatically happy and were waving at the camera. Clara noticed the scarf the woman was wearing and took a quick look back at the chair. The very same scarf was lying across it. These people must have lived and traveled with the Doctor for quite some time to have so many possessions on board the TARDIS. What about this room and their possessions had caused the Doctor to lose himself in the hallway? She replaced the frame and thought back to what he'd been yelling. 'You know they are gone, you mourned with me.' It didn't take a genius to guess that the Doctor had been friends with and lost these two people. But Clara WAS a genius, in her own right, and she saw what ran deeper in this situation. This was the reason he hadn't stopped moving or talking. He couldn't. She had seen the pain burning in his eyes like a flame. She guessed that having to stop and think would only drive the knife deeper. She needed to find him and do something. That much pain couldn't be dealt with alone. Clara ran back outside into the corridor and shut the door behind her. The Doctor could be anywhere on the ship and she had only been here for a few days. Where could she possibly look? Finding the man would be like looking for a incredibly clever needle in a smaller of the outside haystack. Then she remembered the first thing the Doctor had told her today, about the TARDIS. Maybe she could put that knowledge to use.
"Excuse me, I understand that you could help me get to where I need to be." No answer came from the gleaming walls. Here she was talking to the roof like a nutter. This was completely mad, but so was she, and it was her only shot.
"Um, well, I think the Doctor was shouting at you before because you were trying to show us that door. He needs help doesn't he?" Still nothing could be heard, but this time she felt a slight hum in the back of her brain. Sucking in a breath she reached around a felt at back of her skull. There was nothing there, yet the humming continued.
"Is that you?" The humming got louder then quieted again. "I'll take that as a yes. Alright, I'm not sure how this works but I'm assuming you will guide me to where I need to be?" Another loud hum. "Ok, so, should I just...walk?" Hum. In any other place Clara would have thought this was a dream. But in this mad Box that seemed to communicate through hums everything was completely, rationally sane. As she was walking a hum would signify that she had to turn, or a random door would appear on the wall and she'd open it to find another hallway and continue walking. In just a few minutes she found herself at the entrance to the control room. The humming had left her completely now. It was just her, the silent room and a quiet storm at its center. Leaning heavily on the controls was the Doctor, shoulders hunches and hands clutching the knobs. He was absolutely still, Clara couldn't even tell if he was breathing. It was like every muscle in his body had froze in the middle of a breath. She started to move forward slowly, because this felt for all the world like approaching an raging tiger. Step by step she inched closer. He didn't budge. Once within reach she started to move her hand to his stiff arm, but paused an inch away.
"Doctor?" Wether or not he'd heard her was hard to tell, his eyes were still staring out into space. Clara let her hand rest on his arm and she could feel the muscles there straining. Now she noticed how white the Doctor's knuckles were, how hard he was clutching the various instruments on the dash.
"That room-I thought it was gone." He stopped her with a whisper, but continued to stare off. "I thought it had been removed when She...when WE changed. I looked for it, but it was gone. I looked for it for so long." Clara slowly began to try and pry his iron hold on the console away.
"No, She kept it." Was all she could think to say in reply. The ragged Doctor looked like he was fighting some kind of far off enemy. He turned to look at her with the beginning of tears shining in his eyes.
"Why? Why couldn't I see it? I needed to see it, I needed to see THEM." He whispered as his face crumpled in sadness. If this question was for her or for the TARDIS was unclear, but Clara took that in stride and managed to get the Doctor sitting on the floor of the control room. He was sort of looking at her but she knew he was really staring through her.
"Who were they?"
"My best friends, in-laws and companions. The first faces this face saw. The Glorious Ponds. The Girl Who Waited and the Last Centurion. Some of the greatest people I've ever known." He had a slight, watery smile when saying that. Clara took that information without a hiccup, though how a couple that young could be in-laws and all these other things to a man this old was baffling.
"What happened?" This erased any form of a smile on the Doctor's face. Now his eyes were hard and no longer looking to some far off point.
"What always happens," He growled. "They trusted me and I failed them. That's how it always ends up. They believed in me, Clara, just like you do. You and them held me so high, as many before you have as well. And you've only known me for a few weeks. I knew those two for a lot longer, yet they STILL trusted me after having SEEN me make mistakes before. I've been told in the past what I do to people. I get them to put their lives in MY hands and, I warn you Clara, my hands are not the safest place to be. My hands are bloody. My friends were ripped from my fingers by an evil called the Weeping Angels, but it was my fault. I fought so hard against everything, but when the time, their time, came I was powerless. And now I will never see them again." He at last started to breath again and Clara took a moment to digest his story. The man had just let his soul flow out to someone he'd admittedly known for a very short time, but she understood what happens when a person's guard is finally smashed from out of the blue and they are just too shellshocked to haul it back up. Sometimes its just to hard to lock your troubles back up. Even for person with a guard as strong as the Doctor's. Also, when she thought about it, he was right about her trusting him without fail, in fact from the first minutes of their meeting she'd trusted him. That trust didn't even waver now in light of the story he'd told. Now it was her turn to take a breath and look at him.
"I think," Her voice seemed to startle him and force him to refocus on her. "I think that the TARDIS didn't want you to see their room alone. Because all this grief over your friends shouldn't be dealt with alone. I think She showed it to you AND me today because you weren't alone anymore. So, I'm not going to tell you to move on, or get over them, or forget. I'm going to tell you to grieve, because I think you've held most of your anger and sadness inside and put up walls to hold it in. But thats not healthy or safe, for either of us. So grieve, Doctor, grieve because we are both here." At this Clara gestured around to the TARDIS and heard a small hum in the back of her head. The Doctor let his head drop and his shoulders sag. He finally just gave in. He didn't try to push her away, either, when she took his hand and held it. They sat in silence with the sounds of the TARDIS.
"Thank you." He didn't raise his head but she heard it. Once again wether it for her or the TARDIS couldn't be told. But that was unimportant for Clara Oswin Oswald the 3rd as she squeezed the timelord's hand and felt the hum of the TARDIS in her head.