OK, 160 views? That is amazing, thanks so much guys! That just makes me so happy! Anyway, read and enjoy and if you have time drop a review! :)
As always, I do not own the BBC, any of its shows or its affiliated characters. And, as much as I would love to take some of these characters away until their creator *cough* (MOFFAT) *cough* learns to take care of them better, I can't.
Warning: Potential abuse and self harm triggers. Nothing horrible, just letting you know to be safe.
"Doctor!"
The Doctor shot upright at the sound of Clara's yell.
"Clara? Are you OK?" He struggled to stand up with his brain still not awake yet. He was panicking. "CLARA!"
"Doctor? When are you coming out of the bathroom?" The TARDIS is being a COW and hiding mine." Her words carried through the door and The Doctor could almost see her out there yelling at the TARDIS. He leaned against the wall in relief. He caught his reflection in the mirror, he had reopened some of the cuts when he had jumped up
"I'll be just a minute." He glanced around the room spotting his ruined shirt on the floor. He couldn't wear that outside. He balled his shirt up and pulled his jacket on. He crossed his arms to keep it closed and he poked his head out the door.
"Doctor, you feeling alight? You look rubbish." She touched his face in concern. He looked like he'd had a rough night.
"Course I'm fine, I'm always fine." He stooped and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before ducking out of the bathroom.
"Doctor?"
He turned quickly, pulling the edges of his coat closer together. "Yes Clara?"
She walked slowly towards him and reached her arms around his neck. She saw him flinch and felt just a tiny twinge of hurt, that he was still so nervous around her. He'd been tiptoeing around her ever since Trenzalore, like she was a dream, and if he got too close she would break.
"Clara..." He stiffened, stared straight ahead.
Her hands moved to the front of his throat before lingering for a few seconds. She smoothed the lapels of his jacket. "You forgot your bow tie on the sink." Clara gave him a sweet smile. "Cheer up, Chin Boy." She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
"I know when you're sad, remember?"
He gave her a sad smile. She watched him walk away.
"I always know."
Clara ducked into the bathroom again. She turned on the tap and ran her hands under the water and jumped back in surprise when the water turned pink. She turned the water off and stared at the blood on her fingertips. She glanced at the sink again and saw a smear of blood on the tap. She looked closely at her hands, but she didn't see any cuts or scratches on her hands or arms. She looked into the mirror and when the realization hit her her eyes welled with tears. She took a cloth and wiped down the sink. Suddenly, it made sense, his odd location, his strange behavior this morning. The way he seemed to stiffen when she got close to him. So he had started again. Silly of her to think she could stop him with one intervention that he probably wouldn't remember.
She lowered her head into her hands, her face flushed with something she couldn't quite understand. She was confused. Why hadn't he told her? She had been inside his time line, knew things about him. She knew his name. She knew things about him even he didn't know. She pulled herself together. This was his struggle, not hers, and she would be there for him when he was ready. She put a smile on her face, grabbed the Doctor's shoes, which had been left in an ignominious heap on the floor. She left the room with a look of determination. She wouldn't let this happen again. Not when she could help him. She wouldn't let him hurt himself again.
The Doctor walked quickly to his room, he couldn't risk Clara getting a glimpse under his coat. She had already come to close. He already knew he was weak, she didn't need to find that out too. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, ignoring the sting on his arms when he moved them. He caught a glimpse in the mirror and he laughed. Clara had tied his bow tie, but she had tied it crooked and high up on his neck. He pulled it off and put it lovingly in the wardrobe. He felt sluggish, his every movement produced small twinges of pain. A constant, stinging, memory of what he had done last night, and a relentless warning of the demons that would come again after dark.
He threw his coat into a corner of the room, dumped his ruined shirt into the incinerator, reached to do the same for his shoes, then found he wasn't wearing any. He sunk to the floor and closed his eyes. Maybe he would just lock himself away for the rest of today. Maybe for a few days. He could tell Clara he wasn't feeling well and drop her off at home. No, she wouldn't fall for that. And even if she did she wouldn't leave him sick. She would stubbornly insist on staying and waiting on him hand and foot. No, that idea was no good.
"Doctor? You left your shoes in the bathroom." Clara tapped lightly on the door. She poked her head through the door, as The Doctor quickly jumped up and sprang behind the wardrobe door.
"Just leave them there OK?"
"Doctor? Are you alright?"
"Clara, I, I haven't got clothes on. You said a lack of clothing made you uncomfortable."
"Right, um, I'll just pop off then. Here are your shoes." Her face flushed. She set the shoes down and quickly closed the door.
He stepped out from behind the door, laughing at how easily Clara got embarrassed. Some of the fog inside his head lifted. He quickly pulled on a clean shirt and tucked it into his trousers, pulled his braces up and took a fresh purple bow tie out of the wardrobe. He tied it and pulled on a clean jacket. He walked over to his shoes and pulled them on, and ran a comb through his hair. It was getting on the longish side, he would have to have Clara cut it. He was starting to feel a bit like a girl. He looked into a mirror and admired the affect. Clara said his fashion sense was rubbish. He didn't believe her. He made a face in the mirror. The mirror made a face back at him.
"Oi! Don't you make that face at me!" The reflection changed to a different face.
"I suppose that's what I get for buying a mirror from a magic shop." He muttered to himself. He shook his finger at the glass, laughing. See if I ever go there again!"
Maybe he could take Clara to see the birth of a star. Or maybe the Parisian catacombs right after they were build. Oh, he loved a good catacomb. There were so many possibilities, the diamond waterfall discovered on Pluto in the year 2,500. It was a new day, there were adventures to be had, people to meet, danger to escape, fezzes to be found! He smiled to himself as he walked out the door.
Clara leaned against the console impatiently. How long did it take a Timelord to get dressed? She idly plucked a banana from a crevice in the console and took a bite.
"Clara! Please tell me you did not just take a bite out of that banana!?" The Doctor ran into the console room and grabbed Clara's head and quickly soniced her.
"Why? Am I gonna grow a tail?" Clara spoke lightly and quirked an eyebrow.
"No, a second head." The Doctor said this matter-of-factly and continued sonicing her.
"A second head? Doctor!" He looked At Clara and noticed the terror in her eyes.
"Relax Clara. I'm kidding." His face shifted from a somber expression to a gleeful smile. "You're fine. That banana is just a banana. Excellent banana. Always bring a banana to a party." He flipped his sonic into the air and caught it.
Clara looked shocked for a moment, her panic fading into mock anger. "You're gonna pay for that one chin boy!" she said as she lightly punched him in the arm.
A hiss of pain escaped through his teeth before her could stop it as he clutched his arm.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, are you OK?" Clara quickly leaned over to look at his injured arm. He tucked his arm back by his side and looked down at Clara's confused face. Quickly he tried to think up a good lie.
"I'm fine, I just burnt my arm fixing some thermo couplings last night. Funny story, actually got trapped inside the TARDIS once doing that." He put his other arm around Clara's shoulders and gave her a gentle hug. "Where should we go to today?" He said, quickly changing the subject. He ran around the console flipping levers and switches."I know a great place to get coffee and scones! How do you feel about catacombs?" He looked at her expectantly.
"Doctor."
"What is it Clara?"
"Your hand." She spoke softly and took his hand, palm up, in hers. It was then he noticed the tiny trickle of blood on his wrist. She must have torn a stitch when she punched him.
"Let me see." She spoke tenderly and looked up at him, her chocolate eyes warm and soft.
"Clara," He didn't know what to do. She kept looking at him with those eyes. "Clara, I..." he froze, panicked, as she started unbuttoning his sleeve, "Clara stop." He swatted her hand away. "Doctor, let me see." She demanded stubbornly, moving again to his sleeve. He grabbed her wrists tightly. "Just let me see!"
"Doctor," her voice wobbled. "Let me see." She tried to pull her wrists free, but he tightened his grip. "Doctor, please..." she struggled against his grasp but that only made him hold her tighter. There was a soft pop "Doctor," her voice cracked and and he saw tears in her eyes. "Please, your hurting me.." her voice trembled and a single tear spilled onto her cheek.
He immediately released her and she sprang away from him like he was hot to the touch.
"Clara? I'm sorry I didn't mean..." He he reached out to her and she flinched. Not much, just a tiny unconscious twitch. He dropped his hand as he realized what he had done. He looked at her, his Impossible Girl, backed up to the railing, fear and hurt in her eyes, cradling her left arm. Guilt flooded his brain. He had hurt her, his Clara. He backed away, lowering his eyes. "Clara, i'm so sorry."
She looked at him, and he saw her wrist was bent at an impossible angle. He cringed. "Clara, I didn't mean to..." His voice faltered.
"I know you didn't." She spoke softly, still in the corner. "I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." She took a few steps toward him. Hesitantly, she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her cheek. "I know you didn't mean it." Stiffly, he hugged her, careful not to bump her arm, still held close to her body.
"Can I see?" He asked, gently moving her injured arm into the light. Her wrist was bent to the side, and he could see finger shaped bruises starting to form on her arms. Another wave of guilt washed over him. He had hurt her. The girl who had died a thousand times for him and he had hurt her.
"Hold still." He looked at Clara and gently squeezed her hand before turning his attention to her wrist. A golden glow seeped from his hands into hers, the pain disappearing. He took her hands in his.
"Clara, can you forgive me?" He looked into her eyes and quickly looked away. He couldn't bear seeing the wariness in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, waiting for her to stiffen at his touch. She didn't. She hugged him tightly for a full minute before pulling away. She smiled, weak, wobbly, but a smile none the less.
"I think you were saying something about catacombs?" She gestured hopefully toward the console. "I love a good catacomb." She lied.
