Epilogue:
"Roosevelt once said 'We have nothing to fear but fear it's self'
I say we have nothing to fear but fear ourselves.
For where does fear come from?
Oh, not just the little fears like rats and snakes or doing badly on your next exam. No. I'm talking about the really bad ones. The ones that make you wake up screaming in the night. Fears so bad even you can't bear to think of them.
Nothing is more terrifying then what is in our own heads.
But what put them there to begin with? These fears.
Memories, deep in our hearts of things so repulsive we have locked them away somewhere deep and dark and forgotten.
Fear is what happens when those things rattle their chains. When the voice of our forgotten nightmares whisper in our ears.
We fear because we know it is only a matter of time.
That one day…maybe one day soon…they will break free.
"DOCTOR! Oh Christ! DOCTOR!"
The Doctor rolled his eyes as Clara came clattering from the back of the T.A.R.D.I.S.
" Yes, Clara?" he said evenly not even lifting his eyes from the dial he was tinkering with.
Clara was wide eyed with panic, gesturing wildly in the direction from which she came.
"HUGE..HAIRY…BIG TEETH…IN MY HAND BAG!"
" Oh?" said the Doctor unimpressed, " Let me see."
Clara briefly disappeared reappearing holding her hand bag out as though it might bite her. The Doctor took it and opening it, looked casually inside. A small smile spread across his face as he lifted his eyes to Clara.
"It's just a rat, Clara!"
" I know it's a rat! What is a rat doing in the T.A.R.D.I.S?"
The Doctor returned his attention to the Dial.
"It probably ran in while the door was open. Poor little chap is going to be very confused."
Clara raised an eye brow. " What's it doing in my hand bag?"
The Doctor sighed and peered into the hand bag. A small squeak or two came from the depths.
"Indeed…well, yes I'm very sorry about that."
" Sorry, for what? Did you put it there?"
The Doctor huffed impatiently.
"I'm not talking to you!"
Clara shook her head. "You speak rat? Of course you do. Honestly,why am I always so surprised?"
The Doctor returned to the dial working silently. Clara approached him curiously.
"What did it say then? What was it doing in my hand bag?"
The Doctor put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to come closer.
"Sleeping." He whispered.
" Sleeping?!"
" Shush! Yes…poor fellows exhausted! Running about all day being chased by cats and so on. Then you come along and frighten him half to death! You were very Rude to him Clara!"
Clara just stared at him for a moment her head to one side. You could almost see the gears of her brain working behind her eyes trying to comprehend what he'd just said. She furrowed her brow.
"Rude…to a rat..all righty then! Guess I need a new Hand bag!"
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively .
"Don't be ridiculous! He's just borrowing it. Rat's are actually quite clean. I told him not to make a mess."
Clara couldn't help but smile.
"What's his name then?"
The Doctor snorted, " Don't be ridiculous Clara! Rat's don't have names! Animals are far too advanced for names! They find them demeaning. He's simply 'The Rat.'
"Ah," said Clara blandly, taking a seat a good ways away from the hand bag."Well, you tell The Rat to stay over there will you?"
"Why? What's he done to you? Honestly, you humans and your petty fears. One would think you'd spend more time enjoying life, you live for so short a time."
"I suppose you're not afraid of anything." Clara said teasingly
" I never said that! It's impossible to be fearless. There's no such thing. In order to be fearless you have to not care about anything or anyone. You can forget love or really any emotion at all. It's rather like being mad being completely fearless..you can't care about anything. Not even yourself."
Clara let that soak in for a minute, she would file that in her head along with all the other things he'd said to her and try to unravel it later. She grinned at the Doctor playfully.
"So what are you afraid of then?"
A pause, then an unmistakable change of tone.
"You know what's fascinating? The concept of fear its self. I mean where did it come from? Even babies feel fear so it hasn't just got to do with what happens to us. I think it's a survival instinct..like with possums. Fear makes them pass out so they can avoid danger…not the brightest animal the possum."
"Doctor! Answer the question!"
The Doctor's face fell and then a smile.
"Please, Ladies first!"
Clara glared. He thought he was so clever.
" Fair enough. I'm scared of dying."
"Oh everyone's scared of that!" said the Doctor giving another dismissive wave. "I'm even scare of dying and I've done it before!"
"Never for real though, I should think that would be different."
"Yes," mused The Doctor, " I suppose it would be. What else have you got?"
Clara pursed her lips, her dark lashes obscuring her eyes briefly .
"I'm afraid of letting down those I love… disappointing them."
The Doctor lowered his eyes, " Ah, that's a good one or should I say, a bad one? It's the worst fear of all because it's bound to happen eventually. Oh! Not just to you, Clara! To all of us! I meant…should I get the cards?"
"Please don't…" groaned Clara rolling her eyes, " Are you satisfied now? Ready to talk?"
"Clara…"
"Fine!" Clara threw up her arms in exasperation, "You want a good one? Here it is, this is how much I trust you. My worst fear…my very worst fear is losing myself. That one day I'll just fade away to nothing. Not dead, not alive, not in some in between state that I can wake up from, just …nothing. Just not being Clara Oswald any more…or anything really. Do you understand? Doctor, Are you all right?"
The Doctor's eyes were large and deep with a mix of pity and fear. This had touched something in him.
"What? Oh, yes. Fine…Fine..My turn then?"
Clara smiled with a nod. There was a moment of silence, The Doctor seemed to be peering inside of himself. Then quite suddenly a veil fell over his features.
"Chickens!"
"Chickens? Seriously?!"
"Yes! I'm terrified of them! Have you ever really looked at one ? They're horrible Clara! Those beady little eyes and the way they always sound like they're laughing…what could be that funny?!"
Clara's gaze was long suffering, " I think I'm looking at a big chicken right now."
The Doctor walked to the other side of the control panel, his face toward the controls. When he spoke his voice was strained with emotion.
"I can't Clara. I'm sorry, I just can't! Maybe another time, but not now."
She crossed over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"That's all right, Old Man." She said gently, " Who knows what kind of fears eleven lives can create. Honestly, you Time Lords and your deep, dark secrets. One would think you'd enjoy life more you live for…"
A sharp lurch and a hiss from the console of the T.A.R.D.I.S cut Clara off in mid sentence. The floor of the T.A.R.D.I.S tilted crazily knocking Clara off of her feet. The entire craft seemed to be spinning out of control. Clara slid across the floor as loose objects fell around her. Suddenly an arm caught her and pulled her close against a support beam. Arms enfolded her and the light was blotted out by a velvet trench coat. The Doctor's voice, surprisingly calm spoke close to her. " I have you, don't worry. It will be fine."
A sickening impact shuddered through the craft and then all was still. Clara opened her eyes as The Doctor stepped away from her.
"See?!" he proclaimed triumphantly, " I told you!"
Then his senses left him.