"Uh, Clara, it's me. I'm… doing a thing, and you won't like it."
The Doctor's voice in the answerphone sent chills down Clara's spine. He was doing something reckless and dangerous again. And the worst was that he knew it was dangerous. She knew he was a grown-up and could perfectly look after himself, but he always risked too much for her liking. Just to feel the excitement, for the pleasure of taking the risk. And in the few weeks they had been together, after that first kiss, they had grown closer and she had started to worry even more.
"I'm using the answerphone so you won't interrupt me complaining about how reckless and hazarded you think this is."
That man, he always planned everything.
"I'll make it short. Deadly aliens chase me. I must hide. I'll disguise myself as a human using a Chameleon Arch. I won't know who I really am and I won't remember anything about my life."
Chameleon Arch. Clara remembered something from her Time Lady echo. She remembered that the process was extremely painful and that many things could go wrong. She knew that a human girl like her wouldn't be of any real help for him in that situation, but she simply would feel surer, safer, if she were by his side. She always had the conviction that she could still protect him somehow.
"Listen carefully: you will have to come back in time by yourself, find me and make me Time Lord again. Now, don't panic" -Clara was doing exactly that- "you'll just have to go to the Tower and ask Kate Lethbridge-Stewart to lend you the Vortex manipulator. I'm going to give you the code and the coordinates. Write them down and don't lose the note."
He waited enough time for Clara to find a piece of paper and slowly dictated her the numbers, twice, to be sure.
"I will be in Rome. Once you arrive, you must search for the house of Lucius Caecilius. The TARDIS should be nearby. Not sure where. I'm sure you'll find her someway. On the console, you'll find a fob watch. An old one, silver, with Gallifreyan inscriptions. You'll have to come in the house and give me the watch. Make me open it and I'll be myself again. Don't worry for me, I'll be fine. See you." He made a long pause. "I love you."
"I love you too," Clara answered, forgetting he couldn't hear her.
That was serious. He did say the words sometimes, but always to answer to her saying first. She understood that, for him, it felt like a defeat, like being inferior, to admit he had such deep feelings and he cared so much for her. That he needed her. It was like admitting one, big weakness. He was too proud to admit those things, except when he made it sound like a gift he made to her, to reassure her that she wasn't the only one who was in love. The fact he was saying it like this only scared Clara further: it was like admitting that he might never see her again.
~oOo~
"Come on, Amelia, off we go." The Doctor said, stepping out of the TARDIS, roughly pulling down the cap of Amy's robe. She adjusted it, slightly annoyed by his gesture.
"Stop that, I can't see!"
"Don't whine. We can't let anyone recognise us."
"Will we be safe from those aliens here?"
"Yes. I mean, no. Maybe. The scans say that they've lost us for a while. Even if they find us again, I'll spend entire months as a human and we'll move to Rome later. They'll give up eventually."
They walked in the crowded streets of ancient Pompeii until they started to find some bazars, filled with every kind of objects. From fruit to vases, to togas and sandals, fine wines from the north and exotic perfumes from the Far East. Wares from every corner of the vast and powerful Roman Empire were collected there, in Pompeii, one of the richest and most magnificent cities of the world back in those days.
"Do you know, by any chance," the Doctor asked to a merchant, "a certain Lobus Caecilius?"
"Ah, yes, that poor fellow," the man replied, shaking his head lightly. "The one who died in that accident, last week, yes. Defending that poor girl from robbery. Got stabbed. What a sad business. She was still a young woman; she died for the wounds the day after, you know? Poor guy, he had no fighting skills whatsoever, wasted his life for nothing. Poor people." He paused. "Why are you looking for him, anyway?"
~oOo~
"I don't risk to end up, say, at the South Pole, do I?" Clara asked, regulating the Vortex manipulator on her arm.
"No, if the Doctor gave you the right codes and coordinates, you'll very likely be fine." Kate Stewart answered.
"Very likely?"
The bizarre backgrounds of the Black Archive surrounded the two women. A Silurian weapon here, the piece of a Sontaran spaceship there, all in the hands of the most influential, top-secret organization in the world. And everything had started with a bunch of soldiers and scientists, and the help of a certain unwillingly-stranded Doctor.
"Well, you never know. It was always slightly defective."
Clara sighed, and reluctantly pushed the last button.
~oOo~
"That's… you."
"Not quite, Amelia." The Doctor and Amy stood in front of the tomb of Caecilius, where a small statue of him had been placed. The statue represented Caecilius, only head and shoulders, in typical Roman clothing. "I'll have to cut my hair much shorter. And honestly, my eyes are nothing like that. Just a very good resemblance… or a terrible sculptor."
They moved to the zone where members of the Sisterhood where buried. Soon they found a tombstone where a few short lines in Latin were carved, together with a representation of a young woman, who according to Amy looked nothing like her.
"Now that we know that they are… that they're dead, what do we do?" the girl asked.
"Back to the TARDIS. I'll cut my hair, set a perception filter and we'll dress with something more suitable than a simple toga. Then I'll erase your memory and use the Chameleon Arch. And trust Clara to come back for us."
"Can we trust her?" Amy asked after a brief pause.
"Oh, she saved me more times than anyone else."
~oOo~
Finding the TARDIS on a rooftop had been a surprise. Well, actually, knowing the special sense of humour the Old Girl possessed and the ship's affection for her, Clara should have seen it coming.
Having to look for a ladder in the middle of Ancient Rome, dressed in modern clothes, with a very visible Vortex manipulator on her arm had been a ridiculously hard business.
No wonder that Clara was more than just 'cross' as she practically shoved the old watch in the hands of a utterly stunned human Doctor and forcefully had him open it, firmly grabbing his hands.
"Oh. Hi, Clara" he smirked lightly, not really knowing what was coming next.
~oOo~
"Here we are. Leadworth, 2011. Safe and sound, Amelia. Off you pop," the Doctor stated, still in his Roman clothes, landing the TARDIS with her usual noise.
"But-"
"No buts," he replied, "go, I won't risk Rory seeing me too."
"Rory's at work. Can't you-"
"Then go wait for him," he said, interrupting her. "I- "
She interrupted him this time:
"Can we at least talk alone for a while?"
"Oh, come on Amelia. It's not this me you care about. I'm not him."
"My daughter is part Time Lord, I think I know a thing or two about regeneration! I knew Melody before and after her regeneration, and she was still her, still my daughter. And you're still you. Still my best friend."
The Doctor glanced nervously at Clara, silently asking if she was okay with that. He wanted to stay with her, knowing she had been too worried for him as always and he knew she would probably be angry. He didn't know, he wasn't good at feelings. But he also had something he owed to Amy.
Clara nodded slowly. She knew he needed that.
~oOo~
As Amy and the Doctor sat on the stairs, on her doorstep, she asked:
"Are you safe now?"
"Nah, that would be boring. Safety is for losers," he said, smirking.
She shook her head, smirking back. "Reckless." She paused. "You're not alone now, are you? You become even thicker when you're alone. You and… that girl, Clara, you're together?"
The sole idea made him smile. He wasn't used to it yet. "Yes. Yes, we're together."
"What about River?" she asked bitterly.
His smile faded and he sighed. "Amelia, you and Rory, and River, you were one thousand years ago. I moved on."
"So you meant it when you said you wanted to forget us."
"You do know how I was in that life. I didn't want to suffer anymore. When something bad happened, I tried to not think about it and just go straight on and never looked back."
"And what happened to us?" she whispered.
He looked straight into her eyes. "I lost you. And I couldn't move on, because you were too important for me. I couldn't forget you, even if I wanted to try. And maybe I didn't. I had… a rough period. And that was when I first stayed alone."
A moment of silence followed, until Amy suddenly asked:
"Why did you say it was my fault, you sounding Scottish?"
"Ah. Because it's true. He, the young me, always forgot. For all his life, he forgot and moved on. But then, at the end of his life, he changed his mind. He felt, for the first time, how precious his memories were. And the last thing he thought about as he regenerated was that he didn't want to forget you ever again. So he involuntarily forced me to remember, every second I speak. Remember you, and his life with you." His lips curved in a little half-smirk. "And you know I can't shut up. It was an infallible method."
"Will I ever see this you again?"
"No, better not. I could rewrite my life and, honestly, there are things I would never, ever rewrite." He glanced at the TARDIS, where he knew that Clara was waiting. "But before I go, there's something I want to tell you."
"And what's that?"
He got up and gently helped her on her feet too. He held both her hands for some seconds and locked his eyes with hers. He caressed her cheek, as he had imagined doing before regenerating. It felt different now, with different hands. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead lightly.
"Goodbye, Pond," he whispered.
The only thing his younger self had never been able to do. Put an end. Close a door. Say goodbye. But Amy deserved it, and the Doctor was happy to give her that now, even though he was so terribly late from his perspective and a little bit too early from hers.
Amy looked at him, a bit startled. "G-goodbye, Doctor."
~oOo~
Clara's slap took the Doctor off-guard. As always. He could never tell when she was angry until she decided to show it. She was very good at hiding that kind of feelings.
"That's for leaving me out of this stupid business! The Old Girl told me, you were chased by the Family. And you didn't say because you suspected I knew who they were."
One of her echoes had been there when the Family had chased his tenth self as he was human. Had died for him. She knew what they were capable of.
The Doctor sighed. He was about to explain, when Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close.
"This is for being still alive," she stated, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him softly.
He almost immediately deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her.
"I should risk my life more often," he said as they parted, "if I can get snogged like this every time," he teased, smirking.
"Silly." Clara answered, but she was smiling. "I missed you," she said, hugging him with her eyes closed and her head buried in his chest. She felt so safe in his arms.
She missed him. She did say that often. Since they were together, she had asked him to show up more often, not only on Wednesday but also on Sunday.
"Did you miss me?" she asked, looking at him in the eyes.
"Of course not, Clara. It's been only one day for me."
"What? You've been away for months!"
"That was the human me. He's not really me. For me, I left you just a few hours ago."
A short time, considering he often spent one or two week alone between one visit and another, not willing to burn up his time with Clara all at once.
Clara observed him for a while. Always so independent. She did miss him even in a few hours. But in the end what were a few hours for a 2000-year-old?
"Come on," she said eventually, "let's get you changed, yes? Roman doesn't suit you."
"Hmm, I suppose it doesn't," he admitted, as he started to walk towards the wardrobe.
A minute later, they were in the vast room full of clothes from every time and every planet. Clara easily spotted the Doctor's present clothes hanging neatly in a corner. Beside them, there were a far too long multi-coloured scarf and, very visible, a red fez. The Doctor calmly walked past it and started to pick up his clothes.
"Doctor." Clara started, astonished. "Have you…did you just…"
"What, dear?"
"Don't you… notice something? Near… your clothes?"
"There's my old scarf and a fez, Clara. What's wrong with them?" he blinked several times, completely oblivious to the problem.
Voices rang in Clara's head. Hers and the Doctor's, many months before.
"Someday, you could just walk past a fez."
"Never gonna happen."