Chapter 7
"So what are we going to do now, just wait?"
As Bill asked that question, Ashildr said nothing, she turned from the console and looked to Clara and Drift as they entered the room.
"Yes, we wait. We trust the Doctor, he thinks he can handle this," Clara replied, "And all we can do is hope he's right."
"Can't we do anything to help him?"
Clara instantly warmed to Bill, who clearly cared deeply for the Doctor.
"All we can do is trust him," she replied, "And we wait here and hope for the best. I'm definitely hoping for the best."
Ashildr shot Clara a look, in that moment she read her expression well, the immortal was hoping for a good outcome, but still doubted it would happen.
"Bill," Ashildr said, "It looks like we're going to be waiting around for a while – would you like to come and see a very different Tardis?"
Bill glanced to Clara.
"I don't want to leave if you need help – I mean, he might need help and I want to do what I can."
"I'll be fine," Clara promised, "The Doctor has asked that Drift stays around to help out. Go with Ashildr, get out of here for a while. You need a break from the worry."
And it made sense that Clara was the one to watch over the Doctor, Bill understood that completely as she nodded in agreement.
"Let me know if there's any change."
"You'll be the first to know," Clara promised her, then Ashildr led the way and Bill followed.
As the Tardis door closed behind them, leaving her alone with Drift, Clara turned to the man who had taken on the Doctor's likeness.
"Look, I know what he's asked you to do but really, I don't think I could get intimate with you. You're not him."
"And that's optional, it's not something he would want you to do, certainly something I would not ask of you if you had no need of it, and the decision is entirely yours," Drift replied honestly, "He just wanted to be sure the offer was there, for you – I suppose as his way of being there for you in every way even though he can't be."
"I do miss him," she admitted as pain reflected in her eyes, "He's still here, he's down the corridor in his room and I feel like its some kind of horrible practise for when he's gone... just him not being here in the console room, him being laid up in bed, I keep looking at the console and I expect to see him standing there..."
She blinked away tears.
"I can't encourage you to hope for the best because the odds are unknown for his recovery," Drift replied, "It would be very unprofessional of me to give you false hope. That's not what being a shifter is about."
"I wish it was."
"I won't lie to you or give you false hope."
As he stood there, resembling the Doctor and speaking in his voice, Clara looked into his eyes – they were darker than the Doctor's, a reminder that this was Drift, the half human shape shifter and not the man she loved, but the more she looked at him, the more his presence comforted her.
"I think it's the suit," she said suddenly, smiling as she blinked away tears, "I keep looking at that suit thinking what a perfect copy it is...and you are helping, I'm not sure why but being close to you, I almost feel as if the Doctor is standing next to me...but I know you're not him, of course."
He smiled too.
"I'm happy to know I'm of help at this time," he replied, "Now maybe we should go and see how he's getting on?"
Clara nodded, still thinking how easily this man was growing on her, how easy it felt to become comfortable in his presence.
"Good idea, Drift," she replied.
"It would be better if you call me Doctor when we're alone together," he added, "It helps the process of acceptance."
Clara hesitated, then she nodded again.
"Okay, the Doctor trusts you and so will I – let's do this your way, it seems to be working so far...Doctor."
Then they left the console room together and headed back to the room where the Doctor lay resting.
"I'm back," Clara said tenderly as she sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the Doctor's hair.
He gave a sigh, roused from a difficult slumber as he opened his eyes, looked up at her and drew in a weak breath.
"I'm trying to go deeper...I can't go deep enough to shut myself down...I should be able to heal myself, but I can't...can't get there..."
As he breathed hard and struggled to focus on Clara, the Doctor pushed the sweat dampened sheet off his body, oblivious to the fact that he was naked and Drift was standing beside Clara.
"I'm burning up... " pain registered on his face, "I can't even force myself to regenerate...the injury is blocking it...Oh Clara, I'm fucked if I can't fix this...I can't go on like this..."
"I'll fetch some spare sheets," Drift said, then he left the room.
Clara took hold of the damp sheet and cast it aside, then she reached for a folded cloth she had left beside his bed next to a bowl of water, she dipped it in and squeezed off the excess and then gently touched the fabric to his brow. The coldness was welcome, bringing relief from the burning pain that seemed to scorch beneath his flesh.
"Oh that feels good," he whispered, relaxing noticeably as she bathed his face, then as she worked her way over his throat and across his chest he closed his eyes and gave a sigh.
"I wish I had more energy... you have no idea what this is doing to me... not sure if it's the cooling effect or your touch, or both..."
He opened his eyes and looked up at her and smiled.
"Keep going...it's by no means a cure but it feels lovely."
Then he closed his eyes again and gave another sigh as she worked her way lower. As the cloth traced a path of coolness down to his groin, he murmured her name with the ghost of a smile on his lips and Clara put the cloth aside and paused to run her fingers through his pubic hair. The feel of her touch was wonderfully reviving, even if only to make him smile as he felt the stirrings of an erection.
"I've missed that," he murmured, "Missed you in so many ways..."
At her touch he was noticeably hardening, and as he opened his eyes again she caught the look that lingered there, he was weak and in pain but still very much alive and certainly this was a distraction from everything that made him fear the fall into the abyss of death, her touch kept him here and now, in the moment with her, with the woman he had once feared he would never see again - her touch was stirring arousal in him that fired up beautiful memories of their bodies together in the heat of passion, back at a time when he had been well. For now, he felt like it was enough to keep him here, to keep him focussed – as long he could feel, as long as she was there and they were sharing this moment, he could survive at least for this moment...
"Clara," he whispered, "Don't stop doing that...I want to feel you touch me...just touch me gently."
She said nothing in reply, her gaze locked with his as her hand gently closed around his hardening erection, he gave a weak cry as she started to gently use her hand on him, urging his weak body to respond to her touch as the movement and the warmth and softness of her closed hand about his hardness encouraged the feelings to take over and cancel out the pain and weakness.
"I don't think I'll last long like this," he said breathlessly, looking down as he watched her hand working on him, "But don't stop...Oh Clara, I've missed you so much..."
She kept caressing him as she leant over him and they shared a kiss, then she pulled back, knowing he was still weak and short of breath – and her attentions between his legs was not helping that problem, but he wasn't asking for a magical cure, just for one more time with her to feel her touch, to know some of all they had shared, perhaps for the last time...
As Drift entered the room he saw Clara's back was turned as she sat on the edge of the bed. The Doctor was gasping softly as her hand worked gently up and down his erection, then he gave a weak cry and panted for air as he came in a strong spurt of white liquid heat over Clara's hand.
Drift quickly stepped back away from the door, keeping out of sight, he listened as Clara spoke softly to him and said something about cleaning him up, then the two of them exchanged soft words and another kiss. As this happened, Drift was still standing near the doorway, looking down at the folded linen he carried in his arms. Drift gave it a while longer, heard Clara say the Doctor needed to rest now, then he tapped on the open door.
"I...hope I'm not interrupting..."
"No, it's fine, come in...I'm surprised you found the linen cupboard so fast, I thought you'd be gone for hours!" she exclaimed, feigning innocence very well as Drift walked back into the room.
He handed her the sheet and looked away, allowing the Doctor his privacy as she covered his naked body with the fresh sheet and made him comfortable, then he turned back and made a suggestion.
"I was thinking, as the first shot I gave you caused a slight but brief improvement, it would make sense to give you the other two shots back to back – it might be what you need to enable the healing process to start. You might be able to shut down and heal yourself."
"The first one did very little," the Doctor replied, "But I did come around and I was able to get to my room so yes, let's try it."
Clara looked at him in alarm.
"You don't know what that stuff might do to you!"
"Trust me, Clara," Drift said, glancing to her then turning back to the task of opening up the packs of pre loaded syringes, "I really do think this could help."
"Or it could be an overdose!" Clara exclaimed.
Drift looked at her sharply.
"I've used this stuff myself! Don't doubt me, Clara Oswald!"
She blinked. The Doctor looked at Drift suspiciously.
"How can you be so sure this wont' kill me? I'm agreeing to this because I have nothing to lose but I'm curious to know why you seem so sure about it. I'm a time lord, I'm not of your species."
"I've used double doses of this stuff myself... I got wounded once and no, I don't want to talk about it - but trust me, this medication was more than effective. A single shot killed my pain and sent me to the stars for a week. You had a single shot and it lasted half an hour, Doctor. A double dose won't kill you – your race is far tougher than mine!"
The Doctor stretched out his arm, turning it over, exposing a vague bruise that was left from the previous shot.
"Make it quick, Mr Drift," he said.
Drift positioned the needle and nodded.
"I'll do the first, then the second. Good luck, Doctor."
"Look after Clara," was all he said in reply, then the needle bit deep and the pain burned into a vein as the contents of the needle were injected. As the needle was drawn out the Doctor caught his breath, looking to Clara as Drift gave him a second shot, pain registered on his face and then it was gone and he gave a sigh.
"Not dead yet..." he murmured, and closed his eyes, the sudden sensation of dragging down into darkness was deep and powerful now and the Doctor went with it, sliding down into the dark, hoping this was at last a healing coma - and not the call of death...
Clara stood beside the Doctor's bed watching as he slept deeply, she noticed he was still pale but the sweating had stopped abruptly and the fine lines on his face that she had always loved that had deepened when he smiled now looked faint as he completely relaxed, before those lines had been etched far too deeply – now he was out of pain for sure.
"He's too still," she said, "I don't like this...I think something has gone wrong..."
Drift gave no reply as he stood there in the Doctor's likeness, looking on as Clara worried so deeply for the man she loved that Drift felt it like a knife in his chest.
"Doctor..." she said again, this time her voice rose sightly as her anxiety grew, she gave his hand a squeeze, stroked his hair, touched his face and called him again, but he gave no response.
"I think maybe he's managed to get into that healing mode he needed to find," Drift suggested.
Clara's eyes were glazed as she turned from the bed and looked to the shape shifter.
"And what if you're wrong? What if that double dose just put him into a different kind of coma?"
"You have to trust me," he replied, "This is all going right."
"Going right?"
"No wrong choices," he replied, "To take him back to the planet would have been disastrous..."
"But you can't know that, you're just guessing!"
Drift stepped closer to her, glanced at the Doctor who was motionless and breathing slowly, then lowered his voice.
"We should leave him to rest for a while. If he is in a healing coma he needs to be left to heal. Don't risk waking him just for your peace of mind."
He placed his hands on her shoulders, and again she got the oddest feeling, as if the more time she spent with Drift, the easier it became to believe he was the Doctor and not a shape shifted copy.
"Please trust me," he told her, "This is the best choice. If we returned to my planet now, being as weak as he is, the only treatment they could offer him would be surgery and believe me, I don't think that would have gone very well. The injury has prevented him from healing and prevented his regeneration, if he had treatment that went wrong he could end up in a worse situation and stuck with pain and disability for many years before his ability to regenerate returned. It would have been years of misery for him and a life time of sorrow for you, Clara. His species can self heal, I think the shots gave him a window of time to slip into that mode. We have done the right thing. Now we must wait."
His words had been spoken in the Doctor's voice, sounding calm, reassuring and as she looked into his eyes, she nodded.
"I don't know why, but I think you're right," she said.
"I am right, Clara," he replied.
He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her and held her in a solid embrace, where to lean her head on his shoulder and weep against the copy of the Doctor's jacket felt almost like home.
This man who bore her lover's likeness was growing very familiar now, as he held her she hoped she would not in desperation let that line blur and start to think of him as the Doctor, but for now, being in his arms felt safe, in fact as safe as if the Doctor had been holding her.
Clara closed her eyes and held him tighter as she wept, pretending for that moment that her lover was well again, and it was the Doctor's arms around her, holding her in a strong embrace and keeping her safe as she shed her tears. She knew it wasn't really him, but in that moment, desperately needed to believe the man she loved was holding her up, letting her weep against the fabric of his scarlet lined jacket...