Chapter 9

"You have to." Clara demanded, tears streaming down her cheeks, reflecting the light from inside the TARDIS. "I have never once asked for something personal, something for me. I have run on your little adventures, I have sacrificed for you. I need this for me."

She wanted to be calm. Clara had gone straight to the Doctor when she found out the truth. The truth that Jennifer Fitzsimmons, the woman she loved, was a clone. Now Jenn was dying and for all Clara knew, it could be intended. Spanning time and space, Clara had seen a lot of wonders and atrocities, but the thought of Jennifer being nothing more than an experiment left a metallic, bitter taste in Clara's mouth. She seethed with anger, and ached with heartbreak.

She made herself look him in the eyes. He looked back dumbfounded at her demands. Normally, he would at least hear her out, but when the tears began to stream, and she began to demand, he shut down. This man, this person, had been the most influential being in her life, she had thrown all of her trust in him, and he was turning her away in her time of need.

She didn't want to beg, Clara had always managed to keep herself composed even in the face of overwhelming opposition. Even when defeat seemed certain, with burns in her heart drifting from hot to numbingly cold, Clara vowed not to break.

She was helpless.

There was nothing more frustrating, or uncontrollable. Clara couldn't be the impossible girl, she couldn't stop it all alone. Clara was a creature of control and organized wit. Yet just as her tongue found no snarky remark or joke to lighten the mood, her heart grasped at the nothingness that mocked her inability to take charge.

"I can't, Clara." The Doctor said, "it's a fixed point."

"Yes, you can," Clara bit back, "and you will. We will go get Jennifer, and we will take her far into the future, or we will bring her to some hospital planet and we will fix her. You will help me with this, if you ever cared about me at all, you will do this."

"I did it again," The Doctor said, "I picked another ape."

Clara stepped back hurt, "Excuse me?"

"Everyone wants to use me to fix their problems." He continued. "They want the adventures until they want the power for themselves. The universe is vast, Clara, I can't be rushing off and risking the future of that universe for a school teacher."

The words cut deep into her heart. Never had he seemed more cruel. She couldn't tell which school teacher he made his jab at, it didn't matter, the wound cut into the flesh all-the-same.

"You," Clara began, flustered, "you, you cranky old man, you stupid heartless Alien."

He turned to her. She knew the word would hit the mark. It was out-of-character for her, but she didn't care, her despair had been replaced with rage, her tears with clinched teeth.

"I know what I'm doing, Clara, you don't"

"No you don't." Clara said. "What is the purpose of any of this, what is the goal, if you miss the glue that ties it all together? Have you never loved? Have you never risked it all? You may think you have, but your apathy shows you have never known love. Around two thousand years of existence and you've never known love. What a sad, pitiful life."

There was silence. Clara breathed long humid heaves of tears and anger. She no longer cared. She no longer cared about getting home, about seeing her family, about the Doctor or his stupid TARDIS. She only cared about the woman whose life slipped away. If the cost of saving Jennifer was the Doctor, Clara would make the sacrifice. She wouldn't let go of Jenn, she couldn't.

"My entire planet died," he began in a whisper, "my whole family, do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

Clara felt her resolve begin to soften.

"I've lost friends, I've lost love." He continued. "I would give it all up to save those from my past. I've lost my wife, I've lost my best friend. I've had to let go of the first person who made me smile, truly smile after I lost it all. Do you think I wouldn't go back and save her if I had the chance?"

Clara sank to the metal floor, the cold, unforgiving steel, pressing against her bare shins.

"I have loved." The Doctor said, "One might say I've loved more than any being in the history of time, and I've lost, I've lost so much more. I could try and save them, but it always ends up the same. You see, some points are fixed in time, they can't be changed. We aren't here to save the ones we love, our job is the save the one's we'll never have the chance to.

"Please?" Clara forced out through a shaky breath, choked back with tears.

He didn't say anything, there wasn't anymore to add. The Doctor walked down and slid next to her. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her huddled form and she leaned against his shoulder. Tears poured down the fabric of his coat. She played with the clasp absently, seeing nothing save the blur of her tears.

They sat on the cold, metal floor for a long time, neither saying a word, neither venturing an explanation, or apology for their harsh words. All was forgiven, as it always was. The room began to darken, Clara's eyes weighted down with sorrow. She tried to stay awake, tried to imagine some grand solution, but the harder she tried to think, the deeper her mind wandered. Each time her eyelids closed, the interval before they opened lengthened until finally, Clara drifted off to sleep, her head against his shoulder.


When Clara awoke the TARDIS was empty. She lay on the floor, The Doctor's jacket strewn across her in a make-shift blanket. She sat in her spot and scratched the top of her head. She looked around the room, almost forgetting where she was. The entire dark nightmare felt like a horrible dream. For a moment she almost wished it all had been a dream, Dyad, Iowa, Jennifer. But it couldn't be a dream, it was reality, and a wonderful woman lay with her life slipping away each hour.

Clara rubbed the sleep from her eyes and taking a breath, stood up on shaky legs. The door to the TARDIS was open.

"Hello?" Clara called out into the void.

She looked around her to determine where the Doctor was, but found nothing. She cautiously walked toward the door. She heard laughter in the distance. Feeding her curiosity, she peeked through the door. The room was bright, sun shining through high semi-circle windows, illuminating most of the area with little need for artificial light. The walls were white and clean, but combated with organic furniture and rugs. The entire room felt like a high-end flat in Belgravia, in one of the more historic buildings. Yet at the same time, the mix-match of high-end furniture with bohemian influences almost gave the room a hybrid feel with a trendy Camden Town flat that Clara spent all of ten minutes in, as a university student, while waiting for a friend.

"Clara!" The Doctor yelled between laughter, waving frantically for her to come over.

Clara cautiously walked to the three people infront of her. The Doctor was talking with a blonde doctor, who wore bright red lipstick and a brighter smile. She grabbed all of her hair and effortlessly flipped it from one side to the other.

The other person had her back to Clara. She had long, dark dreadlocks, and looked to be a couple inches taller than Clara. Clara approached and the woman turned.

Clara's heart dropped, her extended hand began to shake. She saw Jennifer in front of her, except it wasn't Jennifer at all. Long curls were replaced with dreads, tied back; soft, natural make-up was replaced with thick eye-liner and deep lipstick.

"So, I can assume I'm not the first that you've met." The imposter said.

"I… I…" Clara searched for words but found none.

"She's had quite the day," The Doctor cut in, "give her a second and I'm sure she'll have a witty retort and a rather odd scrunch to her face."

"Oh, poor thing," The blonde said, "I'm Delphine." She extended her hand in greeting.

Clara turned and shook her hand. "French." Was all Clara could force out.

"Well, she is observant." The imposter laughed before extending her own hand. "The name's Cosima."

"Cosima." Clara tried on for size. "I've seen your file."

"Not the greeting one normally expects," Cosima said, "But I'll roll with it. Where did you see it?"

Clara blushed. "Dr. Leekie's desk." She said.

The two women shared a nervous glance. "Oh, so definitely not recently." Cosima said with a knowing smile.

"No," Clara began, "I saw it-"

The Doctor cut her off with a wave of his hand behind the ladies. Of course, Clara thought, they had traveled in time. She mentally hit herself at the lapse. Where were they? How far into the past were they? Or the future. Were they in the future?

"Jennifer?" Clara tried.

"Who?" Cosima asked, and was met with a light touch on her arm from Delphine's hand. "…Oh, Fitzsimmons? Woah."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Delphine said. The words were meant to be caring, but they bit hard. Clara wouldn't let herself break down again, she pushed the feeling aside.

She looked to The Doctor for assistance, a raised eyebrow, a nod, asking for any help.

"All very well, but let's not dwell on that right now. I want to hear about the two of you." The Doctor said.

The blonde smiled, a blush crossing her face, while turning around to face him.

"You're a forward one aren't you?" Cosima asked.

"No intrusion intended," He said, "I just like to get to know more about the people whose research I'm funding is all. I didn't mean you two exclusively, more about you two in general. I wasn't trying to say-"

"What my colleague is trying to ascertain is," Clara cut in, realizing alas the con, "what you guys are directly working on. We like to know the history of our scientists, and that way, by gauging who they are personally, we can better understand their passions and ambitions so we might better understand them."

"Oh," Delphine said, "well, I'm the lead on the project, and Dr. Niehaus,"-she said motioning to Cosima-"is the second. Though, we work best as a team, forgoing the more traditional lab hierarchy in lieu of a more egalitarian partnership."

Delphine's accent, enunciated each syllable equally, and Clara watched as Cosima smiled and nodded as she followed along with the words the French woman said. A brisk realization flowed from Clara's fingers to her chest, a smile crossing her face. They were more than lab partners, they worked together and yet Clara knew enough to notice when coworkers were more than simply colleagues.

"You're in love." She blurted out before she could contain herself.

"Yes," Cosima said, not missing a beat "it's one of the reasons we work so well together. We share each other's passions, passions in genetics, passions in science and passions in good wine." The last line Cosima said with a wink, that insinuated much more than wine.

Clara blushed and sent a wink back.

"Very good, very good." The Doctor said. "We are very interested in all of this genetic stuff, and you are high on our list of candidates."

The two women looked at one another. "Genetic… stuff?" Cosima asked.

"Don't let the Doctor in his name fool you," Clara said, "there is a reason he's interviewing grant candidates instead of working in a lab himself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" The Doctor asked.

"I think she's saying you're dumb, man." Cosima laughed.

"Cosima!" Delphine interrupted.

"Oh, don't worry," Clara said with a smile, "he's used to it, having to put up with me all of the time."

The three laughed. It felt good to laugh. Clara had for the briefest of moments felt the deepening sorrow subside, and felt the burn of her cheeks hurting from a smile. She felt a bond with Cosima and Delphine, they felt like far-removed relatives who showed up uninvited to Christmas dinner, only to seamlessly blend into the family dynamic.

"I like her." Cosima said, "you should hire more people like her."

"He couldn't afford more people like me," Clara said, "truth be told, he can't quite handle me."

"Well, that much is obvious." Delphine said with a laugh.

"Can we continue the interview?" The Doctor said, slightly annoyed at being the butt of a joke between everyone in the room.

"Oh yes, interviews," Cosima said, "hit me with the next question."

"Yes," The Doctor said, "It says here you had a debilitating respiratory illness a couple years back?"

"Yes," Cosima said, "It was pretty wicked. There was a time that it looked pretty bleak, like I wasn't going to make it. In the end it was a genetic breakthrough that allowed us to figure out a cure. I ended up writing my dissertation on using personal genetics for vaccines and cures, how Evolutionary Development of cells can both harm and help the validity of species. It was a pretty bomb dissertation."

"By 'Bomb' Cosima means it is a highly regarded piece of work within the field, with many leading scientists supporting her conclusions and data." Delphine said.

"Yeah," Cosima said, turning to Delphine, "that's exactly what I said, bomb."

Delphine lightly touched Cosima's hand, the contact was brief, an almost unperceivable touch of fingers, her index interlocking Cosima's pinky and holding before letting go. It was meant to go unnoticed, a conversation between them, however Clara was fluent in the language, more fluent than she wished to ever admit.

"Good, Good," The Doctor said, "that was our main concern, which was why we needed to make this unscheduled interview in such a rush, we just wanted to make sure that you had fully recovered in order to see this project to the end.

"Yeah," Cosima said, "I'm good to go. We'd really love your backing. Ever since the company that previously backed us went under, we've had trouble finishing our research and any kind of grant or funding would be immensely appreciated."

"I'll discuss with my colleague and we'll get back to you in a few weeks." The Doctor said before shaking their hands in turn and walking back to the TARDIS.

Clara smiled at the women. "Thank you so much for your time." She said.

"You're not really here to interview for a research grant are you?" Cosima asked.

Clara quickly decided which course of action she would take. It was Cosima's eyes that finally made her decide to tell the truth. She never could lie to Jennifer, and though she knew Cosima wasn't the same person, she couldn't bring herself to lie to her either.

"No," Clara said, "it was kind of obvious wasn't it?"

"Well," Cosima said, "The random blue phone booth was kind of a big hint."

"Yeah." Clara said, "really not his best, really not."

"So you knew Jennifer?" Cosima said. "What was she like?"

Clara felt her heart pound against the inside of her chest. She fought back tears, each time Jennifer's name was used in the past tense, she felt a sting, and tears well in her eye.

"Yes." Clara said. "She… She was wonderful. She was this passionate person who loved her students and loved her job, and she had these amazing dreams. But they weren't for her, they were for others. She had this almost overwhelming ability to see someone as they should be, as they wanted to be, instead of who they were. She would take that vision and encourage you to be that."

Clara wiped a tear from her cheek. Cosima raised a hand and rubbed Clara's arm.

"I never got to meet her," Cosima said. "but she is the reason I'm here, indirectly, she kind of saved my life."

Clara looked up, confused. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Cosima was sick," Delphine said, "Dyad had tried everything they could to cure Jennifer, but in the end they couldn't. Their failure in helping Jennifer opened up doors for Cosima that we wouldn't have had before. They allowed us to take risks we wouldn't have taken before. Without Jennifer, we may not have looked for a cure so passionately. Cosima might not have made it."

Delphine broke professional boundaries, and grabbed Cosima's hand in hers, pulling her close.

Clara looked back at the open door to the TARDIS, understanding finally why she was here, why he brought her to this point. Clara knew that by saving Jennifer, she would most likely damn Cosima. Clara couldn't fight for her love, knowing she would ruin theirs. The Doctor knew Clara couldn't do that. He showed her the importance of Jennifer Fitzsimmons' death, the importance of her life.

Clara Oswald had to do the one thing she was absolutely terrible at. She had to let go.

With tears in her eyes she walked back to the TARDIS and closed the door. He stood by the center console. He didn't say a word, he didn't have his normal smug smile. He sat solemnly, quietly. For the first time, Clara realized he was waiting on her orders.

"Let's go back." Clara said. "Let me say goodbye."