"I hate you." She hissed at him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as if it could make the upcoming incline magically disappear. A small ragged breath left her tiny frame as the padded barrier came down around her shoulders, penning her in and taking away her ability to escape.
"No you don't." He was laughing at her, completely unbothered and relaxed, clearly excited for the upcoming torture.
"Yes I really d-ahhhhhhhhh!" The rest of that sentence was cut off by a high pitched shriek as Clara Oswald was jettisoned off and up.
—
Four hours earlier…
"I call shotgun!" The Scottish girl cried only half way out the door, her feet crunching into the gravel as she raced to the front seat of the Tardis.
Everyone seemed to be looking forward to this. Everyone except Clara that is.
It was the Sunday of a decidedly long weekend and rather than getting one singular lie in- that she hadn't had on the Friday (when a makeup team had been pawing at her from the break of dawn) or the Saturday (when she was forced into a walk that led to this mess)- Clara was instead waking up bright and early for the two hour drive to Hedgewick's World of Wonders.
She had known it was coming of course, she'd been the one who agreed to go after all. 'Tricked more like it' that same nagging voice spoke and for once she couldn't bring herself to disagree with it: she was absolutely tricked.
However a deal is a deal and Clara Oswald never backed out of a deal.
That didn't mean she had to enjoy it though and she certainly wasn't going to.
She had been goaded out of her room by a less than delicate Amy with promises of breakfast with coffee on the road, possible revenge on John if she fancied and, of course, grievous bodily harm if she didn't get a move on in the next ten minutes.
That was how she found herself here: shivering in the cold winter morning air, as dew drops clung to the grass and a misty fog covered the country landscape.
She'd wrapped up warm. Sort of. As far as she could with her limited 'Linda-fied' options.
Really that just translated to layers.
Her hands were rubbing furiously at her arms, but between the thick jacket and navy blazer she had on it was difficult to generate any extra heat.
The blue and white spotted dress was fairly short for a theme park and really not as insulating as she would like, but it allowed her to wear thick woollen tights and for that she was eternally grateful.
The length had absolutely nothing to do with the double take she was certain she saw John give her when she finally came down stairs.
Nothing at all.
John was currently giving Sonic a dramatic farewell in the doorway, complete with harrowing cries and tears clearly intended for his audience. His sunglasses were perched on top of his head because apparently it was a crime to drive without them even in January.
He had the keys to the car stuffed in his tweed jacket's pocket so the rest of the rag tag group were stood desperately awaiting his arrival so they could climb into the car and have some semblance of warmth.
At this point, Rory was pulling a wooly hat further down his ears with his arms folded tightly across his chest, Luke was breathing puffs of visible, frosty air into the atmosphere and Clara was biting her tongue to stop herself calling to John to 'wrap it up with the bloody dog'.
Luckily, she didn't have to.
"For goodness sake Doctor, he'll still be here when you get back and if he isn't we can buy you a new one." Amy wasn't one for sentimentality, more harsh practicality.
"How can you be so heartless Pond? Can't you see his little eyes melting into tears?" John's own eyes seemed to be 'melting into tears' more so than Sonic's but Clara didn't think this was the best time to point that out.
"I wish I was melting but I think I might be freezing." Rory muttered through chattering teeth.
"See that right there? That lack of compassion? That's what makes you two perfectly suited to each other." John teased before sighing dramatically and tossing the keys to Amy. "Start the engine and put the heating on, you can all sit and wait for me and my amazing driving skills in the nice, warm Tardis." Amy caught the keys in one hand, immediately opening the car to the frostbitten group.
Around ten minutes later, after a further seven minutes of only-slightly-joking, tearful goodbyes; two minutes of Amy insulting said goodbyes and one minute of everyone begging John not to drive like a maniac, they were finally off in the newly repaired Tardis.
—
They stopped at a drive-thru, as promised, and Clara and John shared a knowing look in the rear view mirror as Luke ordered the same black coffee as her and John.
They then shared the same desperation not to laugh as he nearly spilt it all down himself the second Clara's hand touched his to pass the drink he, noticeably, barely sipped.
It was sort of cute and Clara couldn't help but feel really awful that she made him so uncomfortable. It only got worse as he pushed himself into the car door to provide her more room in her squished middle seat ('Shortest legs Clara, it's the rules of engagement' Rory had informed her before claiming the seat behind Amy). She desperately wanted to tell him it was ok but she didn't quite know how without making him feel even more embarrassed that she had noticed his extra effort.
John's subtle teasing, from exaggerated winks in the mirror to asking for their star signs in the most ridiculous fashion, only made things frankly worse and Clara was certain Luke was about to combust into a ball of embarrassed flames.
She wanted to swat John for being so insensitive but every time she raised her hand she either: feared for their lives due to his reckless driving, (she certainly wouldn't be the reason for him losing control and killing them all) or she would meet his eyes again and she just couldn't bring herself to do it when he looked at her like that.
Instead she eventually begged him to put his amazing playlist on (no, she was not beneath flattery). He did so only too willingly as he was not exactly adept at seeing when people weren't being entirely honest about their compliments. Clara thought it was quite sweet how much he liked to believe the best in others and their intentions and made a mental note to be sincere with a later comment.
They carried on at a fast pace that Clara and Rory agreed probably wasn't legal whilst Amy, Luke and John whooped and hollered at the music and the speeding laws they were probably breaking.
The closer they got to Hedgewick's World of Wonders the more Clara's heart pounded. Each new sign marking the rapidly shortening distance acted as a nail in the coffin of her sanity.
She had never liked theme parks. Never. Not since she got lost on Blackpool beach and had to listen to the whirring of the rides on the pier get louder and louder, mocking her as she became more and more hopeless.
The swooping and twirling that sent air rushing past her ears was a memory locked firmly away in her brain.
It didn't matter how many times she replayed her mum saying she would always find her.
It didn't matter that she told herself it was ridiculous, that she was fully grown and could never be properly lost again.
It always seemed to haunt her and for some reason, that was the fault of all theme parks.
It hadn't been such a problem until her mum passed. When she was alive, Clara could squeeze her mum's hand if she was really, really scared and it was like the fear just evaporated from her body so she could soar and do things only a brave Clara could do.
Then she was sixteen and ditching school with decidedly bad influences just to make the pain go away, even for a moment. They didn't pity her like her old friends and they weren't nauseatingly sympathetic like her teachers. If she had thought about it for more than a second back then, she would have realised they didn't care about her at all and that really wasn't the better way for a friendship to function. If she could change her mind at that age, she'd take sympathy any day of the week.
They'd gone back to Blackpool for the day and Clara had been forced on to the 'Pepsi Max'.
However this time no one had held her hand to tell her it was ok and no brave Clara had appeared.
Instead she screamed and screamed for a mum that would never come, as she was thrown through endless loops and threw up in the toilets for an hour afterwards completely alone.
When Clara had emerged from the loos already embarrassed enough as it was she found that she had been abandoned by her 'friends' and had to call her dad to come get her with her tail between her legs, as salty tears poured down her face.
From then on she exclusively thought things through, she never let her guard down and she did not go to theme parks.
That's why she felt that all too familiar, sickening feeling of bile rising in her throat as John pulled in through the colourful gates of Hedgewick's World of Wonders and parked the car, the hand brake screeching as he imitated 'Poltergeist' with a just as horrifying as the original movie (to Clara anyways):
"We're hereeeeeee."
—
The queue to get in had been fairly short since not many people wanted to come to a theme park in January and for that, Clara was furious. Well she would be if she could calm down her raging senses for just two minutes.
If they'd been stuck outside for at least an hour that would have massively reduced the time spent on rides. That was quality, prevention time that Clara had been cheated out of.
John had been hopping from foot to foot the entire time, eagerly anticipating what was beyond the metal barriers and cartoon figures saying 'Welcome'.
Rory and Amy were stood to the side with Amy's hands buried in Rory's coat pockets for warmth, the pair also looking weirdly excited for what was coming.
Eventually, they got in and were hit with a wall of colour, a sharp contrast to the bleakness of winter they had grown accustomed to. It was pretty empty considering how busy it could get but the screams of delight still echoed around Clara, paired with the endless sound of things rushing past her and for a moment she felt like she was going to be sick again.
A large hand slipped into hers and without even thinking she squeezed tightly as if it had been her mum, a force of habit to calm the flurry of terror and nausea within her.
She looked up and saw John staring at her, his brow furrowed in concern but she didn't say anything out of fear that opening her mouth would lead to her actually being sick.
Instead after a pause, he was the one who spoke.
"You weren't kidding were you? You really don't like theme parks." He sounded guilty as he ran his spare hand through his already messy hair.
"How could you tell?" She eventually managed to croak.
"For starters, you're white as a sheet, you didn't pull away when I took your hand and, well, you sound like that." She gave him a weak smile, still not letting go of his hand.
"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" He said with a sigh.
"A deals a deal."
"Not when one person in the deal looks like they are a second before death and certainly not when it makes the other, roguishly handsome person feel incredibly guilty!"
In truth, Clara didn't want them to know she was frightened especially not when they were all so brave about it. She had thought if she put on a brave face she could trick herself into not being scared, clearly it hadn't worked on her or anyone else. She didn't want to be seen as weak or a coward and she certainly didn't want to spoil anyone else's day; somehow she had managed to do both and it made the whole ordeal ten times worse.
"It's fine, I'm fine." She breathed out and he almost looked like he was going to believe her until a ride sped past them on a track above their heads and she let out a pitiful cry, a sound she didn't even know she could make, and he shook his head.
"Jesus. No, no I'm not making you do this, come on we can go the others won't mind, I can't let you suffer here knowing it's my fault." He started to move ready to round up the rest of them, who were messing around at one of the carnival games at the entrance, when she pulled his hand back dragging him to face her.
"No. I can do this, I just need to get over my fear." She was adamant she would not spoil this day, that would be worse than riding the biggest ride here.
"Clara I get that you're trying to be brave but-"
"No. It's ok I'm not trying, I can be. Let me be brave, we can start out slowly yeah?" She looked at him with her big, brown eyes, in a way her dad had always told her could get her anything she wanted in life and he seemed to be right. John sighed and broke his gaze from hers to look at their entwined hands.
They stayed there for a moment stock still until he let go. Her hand swung limply back to her side and she thought for a second he wasn't going to give in.
"Fine. Wait here for a sec- if that's ok?" She knew what he was really asking: can you handle it?
Clara gave a small nod which he sharply returned, his jaw still tight as he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of staying though she knew he would.
She watched as he went over to Luke, Amy and Rory, gesturing wildly with his hands as he always seemed to when he spoke. They all seemed to be nodding at whatever he was saying and Clara internally cringed when Rory gave her a sympathetic look across courtyard entrance.
She quickly looked away to stare at the statue of a rocket ship blasting off, the flames created out of a water feature cascading into the fountain below it.
She heard a clap and saw John had finished as he patted Rory's shoulders and swaggered his way back over to her.
"Right well I've packed that lot off onto the 'adult' rides, you and me are starting slowly." He said.
"You don't have to do that, you can go with them," Clara somehow managed to feel more guilty than if they had turned round and gone home.
"Clara, answer this honestly, will you get on any of the rides at all if you are alone?"
"No." She mumbled, shuffling her feet.
"Well then I'm coming with you. Come on there's an old fashioned carousel that's perfect for you to start with," He offered his arm to her and she gratefully slipped her own through the crook. For once, Clara was ignoring the nagging thoughts about wether this seemed too 'coupley' and was simply grateful he was there at all, it didn't really matter if people assumed they were a couple, did it?
"I do feel bad for Luke though, he's got to be feeling like a bit of a third wheel with the old married couple," Clara joked.
"I think he was more disappointed he wouldn't be spending the day with you…you are aware of his little crush I'm assuming?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and again she refrained from swatting him.
"Painfully."
"Speaking from years of experience as an awkward teenage boy, he'll be over it soon enough, trust me. Though the betrayal of me taking you around may sting for a little while longer so you owe me."
That time she did swat him.
"Ok ok I'm just teasing, he'll be fine, he loves Amy and Rory." Clara was happy to leave it there but she still could have sworn she heard him say: "he'd be a third wheel either way."
—
They arrived at the carousel and Clara was almost shocked at how much of a work of art it was. There was ornate paintings along the roof showing Victorian characters at fairs and parks and picnics all laughing in sunny colour. Bulbs lit up the roof in strips right the way around making the whole place shine while majestic, painted horses stood primed as if they were ready to sprint off that very minute.
Clara was in awe taking in the sight of all the colours and for once didn't feel so overwhelmed but more stunned.
In his usual fashion, John was scampering across the platform inspecting the horses' names to find the most suitable candidate clearly unfazed by the detail of it all.
"Ready?" He asked her, his eyes bright with excitement. For some reason she was able to return the same brightness.
"Yup." She popped the 'p' taking his outstretched hand as he guided her to the horses that passed his impromptu inspection.
"Arthur and Zygon?" She pulled a face. "Bit unique."
"There's nothing wrong with Arthur!" He cried as he helped her clamber on to the pastel red horse named 'Zygon'. The white saddle matched the angelic, white horse Arthur perfectly.
"I think you know perfectly well which name I'm referring to." She giggled as his limbs attempted to help him onto the other horse rather hopelessly.
It was surprisingly comfortable up here and she wasn't too alarmed, though considering they hadn't even started moving yet she didn't have a lot of hope or belief in herself stashed away.
She gripped the gold, spiral bar in front of her as the classic carnival music began playing and she was steadily lifted up and back down again. The ride groaned as it began building its way up to faster speeds.
Clara felt almost ridiculous looking at the albeit small assembled crowd of parents watching their little ones grip the same bars in front of their own horse, but when she turned to see John lazily lolling on his horse as the pace picked up she couldn't help but laugh.
It wasn't terrible. It was faster than she had expected but overall it was quite enjoyable. At first her breath had been shallow and she honestly believed her chest was going to cave in but ever so slowly it seemed to release as if a pressure had been gradually removed. She felt her whole body shift into a calmer feeling and almost beamed at that simple fact alone.
It wasn't a miracle cure and she certainly couldn't do it without someone like John present but for once in her life Clara felt relaxed and free.
At some point John had taken his phone out and snapped a picture of her grinning on the horse- how he was comfortable with letting go of the bar at all she could never understand.
She would have to see that photo later, it wasn't very often that Clara Oswald let go and she'd quite like to treasure that memory.
Her feet were unsteady as they clambered off and she gripped on to him for support, the tweed scratchy between her fingers in a way that shouldn't have made her feel as safe as it did.
They put a bit of distance between them and the ride and John stopped her, his hands on her shoulders, a beaming grin on his face.
"So…."
"I loved it!" She squealed and they burst out laughing, "It was actually really fun, so thank you."
"Anytime. Right so guess you're ready for that one now then," he gestured to a massive yellow coaster behind him with three loops and a drop that would surely kill. She felt her mouth fall into a small 'o' and nearly asked him if he was crazy before she saw his shoulders shaking with laughter.
"I'm kidding, I'm not a psychopath Clara, you've been on one tiny ride it's hardly a magical fix."
She heaved a sigh of relief, releasing a breath that she hadn't realised she was holding and could almost feel the colour come back into her cheeks.
"Right where to next sensei?"
"Ooh I like that: sensei, o master of the great arts, holder of all knowledge," he gestured with his hands as if he could see the name in lights, sadly coming back to earth with a bump as she nudged him with her elbow, shaking her head softly.
"We could try the spacey zoomer?"
—
Clara Oswald almost felt on top of the world. She had managed ten rides in the hour they had been here and each one hadn't filled her with total dread.
At some she had felt her nerve trickling away and almost gave up entirely; then she would feel John's hand slip into hers without prompt and it was all ok again. He didn't even have to ask, he somehow just knew and for that she was grateful.
If Clara was being truly honest she would have to admit she hadn't felt this carefree in a very long time and she was quite frankly scared of the reason why she was able to be so now.
Luckily, one thing she didn't have to be was honest all of the time and the less John knew the better.
The worst ride had decidedly been the 'Crash of the Byzantium', it was one of those god awful dropper rides that lifts you higher and higher and somehow drops you even further until your stomach forgets its place in your body and finds itself in your mouth.
That was one ride Clara had plainly said she would never ride again no matter how it was marketed and John couldn't blame her.
They were gearing up for bigger and bigger things but each time the prospect of the bigger rollercoasters were presented she would have an excuse at the ready or a ride she simply had to try first.
John knew how to take a win and the fact that she was here at all was certainly a win.
They walked hand in hand through the park passing stalls selling every junk food imaginable from candy floss to burgers with an intoxicating smell. Some of the stalls, designed to look like old market stalls with brightly striped awnings, were selling souvenirs and others had carnival games for stuffed animal prizes.
Clara wasn't sure when their hands had found each other and she wasn't sure why they slotted together so nicely.
She couldn't bring herself to let go. She convinced herself it was to prevent any awkwardness of the sudden action resulting in him realising that they had been holding hands this entire time. The ugly truth of enjoying something that felt forbidden was always vehemently denied by Clara, even in her own head. That was a special trick she only did a few times a day.
She continued to ignore the part of her that didn't want to let go because it was simply safe and warm and the close distance allowed her to smell his cologne that really shouldn't smell that amazing.
After all it could be completely platonic and Clara didn't want to push the boundaries and ruin everything.
He brought her to one of the game stands called 'Shoot the Slitheen' and challenged her to a shootout. Despite having terrible aim, Clara was never one to back down and she took her inevitable loss graciously especially when she was handed the strange, green, alien toy plushy he had won.
She grinned at him as he beamed down at her and she had to strongly remind herself that no she was not on a date and no they don't like each other like that. She wished someone had told the grey haired man behind the counter that.
"Can I just say, you two make a lovely couple, simply marvellous." The man whose tag only read Mr Copper clapped his hands together as their hands slipped from each other.
She felt her eyes go wide and her cheeks go red as John stammered and hopped from foot to foot.
"No we aren't-"
"Not a couple." They managed to say at the same time both reverting from the comfort they had established to extreme awkwardness at the flip of a switch. They both refused to look at each other as Clara was staring anywhere in the distance as if a great alien ship would fly down and wipe them out of their misery. Meanwhile John was staring open mouthed at the elderly man until he eventually spoke:
"No. No way, she's too short and bossy and her nose is all funny," Clara's blush only worsened as she felt her now free hand fly up to her nose it wasn't funny…was it?
John's eyes widened further (if that was possible) as he realised what he had said. Quickly clamping his hand across his mouth to shut himself up, he finally looked at Clara apologetically to which she responded with an even more embarrassed shrug.
Mr Copper was now feeling as uncomfortable as them and had to turned a shade of crimson. He began apologising with intermittent "of course not's" to backtrack his earlier statement until he realised he was fighting a losing battle and closed the flap to his stall to hide from them.
Clara and John stood alone, in an endless silence. With the disappearance of Mr Copper they were left in each others company feeling worse by the second.
"I panicked, I'm sorry you're nose isn't funny." John was trying to dig a hole in the ground with his eyes.
"Right yeah that's- that's fine." Clara officially wanted to die. "Wait you think I'm bossy?" Her brain was finally starting to function again properly and it was evident, by the horror on John's face, it showed.
"Well-"
"Oh I see how it is." She declared indignant.
"Hey, you try guiding a drunk Clara back to her room! You're commanding enough sober but drunk you? Well you can't blame me for that one!" They half heartedly glared at one another, a pregnant pause settling before the giggles began.
"As if he thought we were dating." Clara howled.
"Yeah that's likely." John snorted in return.
If they each secretly thought it wouldn't be so bad and felt an equally stinging pang of rejection that the other was so opposed, well, that's no ones business but their own.
—
"It all comes down to this then." He stated gazing up.
"I don't think I can do it." Clara wrung her hands, needing something- anything- to do.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He looked down at her a small smile on his face.
Clara breathed out and in on a cycle attempting to calm down her senses that were on the verge of an overload. In front of her was the smallest rollercoaster at Hedgewick's World of Wonders however it was of course still massive in comparison to all the other rides she'd attempted today and by far worse.
They'd agreed this was where they would stop as in John's words Clara had done "more than enough for one day.
She'd felt invigorated for once, almost liberated from her own inhibitions, yet here she was nearly breaking into a cold sweat as her hands shook.
"We can always go to Natty Long Shoes' Comical Castle?" He gestured with his thumb behind him to a funhouse/large castle fortress complete with its own moat.
Clara whirled round to face him rather than continuing to stare at the monstrosity in front of her.
"Dare me." She said.
John gawped at her with bug eyes before nodding slowly and laughing slightly.
"Ok. I dare you."
"No taksie backsies?" Clara cocked an eyebrow, referencing his earlier trick, to his amusement.
"No takes backsies." He agreed.
She stashed her little red bag and her new 'Slitheen' plush toy into one of the rides cubby's as their turn came up. Her heart hammered out of her chest beating a new rhythm of terror.
She didn't know what sick part of her made her do this but it was like she had no choice. A challenge was set by the same brain that was scared.
Maybe she was broken? Maybe she had loads of different lives in her head and one of them was daring and brave and simply hadn't sent the memo to the other Clara's?
She would have continued to ponder that thought but the bored ride attendee was guiding her into her front seat- according to John it was a perk of the fast pass front row seats every time. She was struggling to see it as a perk.
Some small part of her wanted to blame John. It was completely her fault, he had suggested leaving and had given her plenty of opportunity to back out; yet here she was agreeing to her own personal nightmare. She knew she shouldn't do it but it was easier to have an outlet for the sheer fear that burned in her.
"I hate you." She hissed at him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as if it could make the upcoming incline magically disappear. A small ragged breath left her tiny frame as the padded barrier came down around her shoulders, penning her in and taking away her ability to escape.
"No you don't." He was laughing at her, completely unbothered and relaxed, clearly excited for the upcoming torture.
"Yes I really d-ahhhhhhhhh!" The rest of that sentence was cut off by a high pitched shriek as Clara Oswald was jettisoned off and up.
She heard the scream as it left her body rather than feeling it, at first she was confused where it came from until it registered that it was her.
Her hands clung to the shielding pads in front of her, knuckles turning white with effort.
John was howling next to her in joy, whooping and hollering as he was finally on a marginally enjoyable ride (for him anyways).
Clara was going to be sick. It would be just like Blackpool all over again. She'd be alone and frightened and abandoned and John would leave just like her mother and her friends. She'd feel the cool of the tiles on the bathroom floor, a harsh reality compared to the weightlessness that had seemed to come over her today.
She'd come back to earth, the joy of the day being sucked out by a vacuum leaving her an empty blackhole.
Always alone.
Tears pricked at her eyes and Clara had never felt more like her sixteen year old self, rebellious and grieving without the emotional capacity to handle both. The saltwater ran off her cheeks almost as quick as they came, the isolation crushing her.
Until something warm and safe and oh so familiar entered her hand and he was there. The ride had slowed as it jerked upwards preparing for its grand finale allowing John to see her and give her a reassuring smile. She wasn't alone. He hadn't left her and Clara nearly cried out in relief.
As they steadied out onto the flat, he ran circles over her hand with his thumb as if he were writing in a language only they could understand.
"Are you ready?" He looked at her in that way, that soft way that could melt her and bring her back all at once. The drop was coming closer and closer but Clara easily managed to say "yes".
—
"You did it!"
"I did it!"
They jumped around like lunatics. An overwhelming sense of pride came over Clara and she wanted to burst with joy.
She leapt up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close into a bear hug. His hands waved around aimlessly, always unsure of himself, until he finally relaxed and holding her close to him.
"Are you ok? No side effects?" John put his hands either side of her head tilting it this way and that way as if he were checking her over for a concussion.
"No I'm fine, I'm more than fine I'm brilliant!" She danced around again, she loved the sound of his laugh when she did that. "That's the first time I've been able to do that in eight years." A massive grin was plastered all over her face and she wouldn't change it for a second.
—
They eventually met up with the others at one of the massive rides which Clara decided to pass on, she knew not to push her luck. She had to physically force John into the line though as he valiantly wanted to stay with her.
"Go on, there's no need for you to be my knight in shining armour, go enjoy yourself I'll wait down here."
Eventually he conceded and headed off with Amy and Rory toward the three seater ride named 'The Power of Three". Clara shuddered to think of the speeds it would be going, no matter how many times she came she didn't think she'd ever be ready for that.
At least now she didn't leap out of her skin at every scream or whoosh of air that passed her ears, it was definitely progress and really she had John to thank for it. He had stood by her the whole day unlike her 'friends' all those years ago and she had no idea how to properly thank him.
But Clara Oswald was determined and she'd find a way.
Luke stood with her at the bottom as he too had a limit to what he could handle apparently the "endorphin rush was too high". Clara wasn't entirely sure about the technicalities.
She had her phone poised to snap a picture of the trio when they eventually came down. The pictures from today would last a lifetime, they had so many memories stored away, from John ramming a burger bigger than his head into his mouth to them having brain freeze from their slushies. Clara was so sublimely happy, her face couldn't hide it and in all honesty she didn't want to hide it; she wanted everyone to know just how much joy she felt.
Luke stood in silence next to her and she was running through her head possible non-confrontational, relaxed topics to talk about with him so he didn't feel so awkward around her.
Instead he beat her to it.
"You like him don't you?" Luke's eyes met hers and her smile slipped. "John, I mean, well obviously John but ,you know, you do don't you?" He was stammering and slipping and it reminded her so much of John her heart nearly swelled, but she couldn't let it.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathed.
"I think you do, the pair of you really aren't very subtle," He gave her a pointed look which she so desperately tried to avoid.
I think I liked it better when he was too afraid to speak to me; it was a slightly cruel thought but Clara was panicked.
"I asked him and he said no- but he was lying. He thinks I can't tell but I know him well enough by now to see the signs, he forgets that I'm not a kid anymore."
"He'll always see you as a kid, it's his job," Clara patted his shoulder.
"And I'm guessing you'll always use avoidance?" He smirked and she would be impressed if she wasn't trying to stop herself from blushing with little success.
"You don't have to tell me anything, I think I already know anyway; but I think my cousin really likes you, he doesn't look at you like he looked at Rose."
"How does he look at me then?" Clara's heart pounded for an entirely different reason.
"If you can't tell, I'm not sure you're smart enough for him," he teased her with a bump to the shoulder.
Clara's brain was spinning. What had caused the sudden turn around in Luke? She didn't know what prompted it and she wasn't sure why he was telling her all of this.
She heard a familiar cry from the top of the ride and prepared for her picture, putting all thoughts of John and however he looked at her on the back burner for the moment.
She snapped the photo and inspected it with a self satisfied smile.
Rory and John were screaming with joy and terror whilst Amy still managed to look flawless whilst plummeting down.
She really did have to find out from Amy how she was always so photogenic, it was quite unfair.
The group all met back up and Luke simply smiled at Clara before going to John and giving him a light shove as if nothing had been said. As far as Clara was concerned she was happy to keep it that way.
—
They were finally wrapping up the day and leaving the park suitably tired but buzzing with giddiness. It was even quieter now with the sun beginning to set as nearly all the families with young children had headed home.
The near silence of the vibrant place created a sense of isolation, as if you were the only people in the world and the small group leaving felt it more strongly than most.
The park was bathed in an amber hue and Clara thought it had honestly never looked so beautiful. For a place that once caused her nothing but terror it was seemingly better than first anticipated.
She wouldn't be telling John, but her mood had significantly risen when they were heading out of the park- she wasn't completely over her fear just yet and she certainly couldn't handle being here alone.
For Clara it was the simple sensation of being found. Theme parks were one of the ultimate spots for being lost and were tarnished with Clara's own experience of it, but here with this group, with John, it wasn't quite so bad. For the first time since she lost her mother, Clara Oswald had an understanding hand to hold and just like magic she wasn't nearly as scared anymore.
Part of her never wanted to let that hand go.
The turnstiles let them through as they emerged back into reality away from Hedgewick's World of Wonders, all of them laughing at a joke Amy had made.
Clara was expecting a nice stroll back to the car.
Clara was going to be disappointed.
The minute they began walking back to the car a sea of paparazzi descended on them like a tidal wave, crushing them with big questions and even bigger cameras.
Luke instinctively shrunk into John's side clearly used to this. John shielded him whilst also keeping his own head high looking forward as if they weren't there.
Clara couldn't help but notice how Amy and Rory did the same although Rory was much less cool about it and clearly wanted to say something to the intrusion of their privacy.
The questions they asked were far more personal than Clara had ever experienced. It was very rare for this kind of thing to happen to her; usually they would take a picture of whatever she was wearing every now and then and add it to a random page filled with other 'celebrities' they were judging.
Unlike John, she had never particularly been interested in massive scandals and wild parties so the papers had naturally assumed she was boring and left her alone. Her dad and Linda had set up interviews on special occasions like her graduation but even then those quiet sit-down affairs couldn't compare to this hounding.
John had made the front page many times. They never seemed to get bored of him and the life he led. The past year, he had been particularly quiet since the death of Verity Smith so clearly they were gagging for an update on his latest escapades.
"John! John! How are you feeling?" One of them cried holding a recorder to his face, which he ignored.
"Amy! Rory! How are you liking New York?"
"Amy tell us about your life over there!"
"Can I get a quote?"
Clara was mostly managing to go unseen behind the 'golden trio' of the public eye until John decided to speed up the pace. He grabbed her hand not even turning around, pulling her along behind him so she could keep up. This movement sadly didn't go unnoticed.
"John! Is this your new girlfriend?"
"Is this the official rebound from Rose Tyler?"
"Is that Clara Oswald?"
"What's your name beautiful, don't be shy!"
They began calling to her from where she tailed behind John and Clara felt bile rise in her throat. She didn't know how to deal with this. She had always kept her head down, choosing to attend formal affairs rather rambunctious parties to avoid being a spectacle for the world. Experiencing the harassment that the Pond's and John got so often she had never truly understood until now. She had judged along with the rest of the world because she hadn't known.
"Give us a smile love, you'll make page one if you're a girlfriend!" The seedy man behind the lens started chortling as he leaned into his friend and whisper shouted: "Maybe page two if you're just another quick shag."
At this John wheeled round, coming mere inches away from the mans face as he loomed over him, his jaw set in a menacing way, his eyes alight with fury. Clara had never seen him so dark not even when she stumbled upon his mother's book. He dropped her hand his fists balled so tight his knuckles burned white.
"Leave her alone."
The man nodded backing off slightly at the veiled threat but Clara was almost certain John was still going to swing for him. In all honesty she almost let him.
Instead she placed her hand on his shoulder. Initially he flinched at her featherlight touch, but gradually she felt the tension physically drain from his body. He quickly accepted her outstretched hand again and near as damn dragged her to the car, Luke hurrying behind them.
With John's clear message it was made plain who the new targets were. The assembled crowd reverted to Amy and Rory and began asking them questions again as they moved slightly slower than the other three, still maintaining their composure.
"Amy, what do you think of John's girlfriend? Do you know anything?"
"Rory how does it feel being away from your friends and family when you're in New York?"
"Amy are there any plans for children in the near future?" A tall woman with thin eyebrows almost hissed out to Amy, Clara turned recognising her from an interview she once gave to the paper 'the Kovarian Chapter'.
Amy gave a small, mangled cry, almost crumpling into herself at the question. Rory coiled his arm around her waist and pulled her to the car. Her feet were so unsteady she nearly tripped but Rory just held her tighter.
John unlocked the doors, leading Clara to the passenger door, still holding her hand. He didn't leave until he had made sure she was in. Luke clambered in behind her and John slammed the door for him.
He stalked round to the other side of the car, guiding his best friends into the back and getting in behind the wheel himself. He locked the doors as the crowd moved to the windows.
No one said a word as he sped off not caring if anyone dared get in his way as they left. It was clear the vultures understood this as none of them were brave enough to stand in front of or behind the car as he drove.
Clara recoiled into her seat, heart hammering at what had just happened. They had been merciless and unpitying as if she wasn't a person but merely a character for them to prod with a stick for a reaction. In her entire time in society she had chosen to be a lesser member to leave the showboating to the likes of John who clearly loved it; yet here she was seeing first hand how much he didn't love it and how much the prodding hurt.
Amy was sobbing into Rory's chest from the middle seat, clinging to his shirt for dear life and Clara knew not to intrude. Whatever had caused this fiery woman to crack must be awful as her body heaved with every cry.
Rory stroked her hair quietly calming her down, pinning her to him as he repeated "I know, I know" over and over, a mantra that could have been for her or for him.
Clara snuck a glance at John from where she was, trying to remain small as if that would make the whole situation change. He gripped the wheel, his jaw set firmly again. His eyes were so focused on the road Clara thought he was going to burn a hole in the road.
She didn't dare speak, allowing him his time and that continued for the whole journey.
Luke was keeping his head down on his phone, avoiding the situation next to him as Amy gradually moved from distraught to simply despondent. Her head was still resting on Rory but she showed no emotion, she was void.
—
Eventually, the car crunched over the gravel drive and came to a halt. Everyone inside was still silent and Clara had never wanted to be alone so badly. Luke wordlessly got out, most likely to seek Sarah Jane who was packing to leave later that night.
Rory tapped John on the shoulder, helping an abnormally quiet Amy out into the now even cooler evening air. She leant on him as they walked back into the house and Clara could almost swear it was as if she was wounded.
For the first time since they left she turned to look at John, who was laid back into the seat, his eyes shut looking so tired. Clara had often thought he seemed older than he was but in a more fantastically mythic way; now he looked weary as if he had been aged ten years in a day.
"I'm sorry." He finally spoke.
"What for?"
"They shouldn't have said those things to you, that's my fault." He opened his eyes turning to look at her. "I hate that they can do that, take one look and simply decided to run with a story not giving a flying fuck who they hurt in the process."
Clara paused knowing he was hurting. For a man depicted as wild and spontaneous he always seemed to carry the world on his shoulders with no one to share the burden.
"It's ok. There are worse things they could accuse me of after all," she nudged him with her elbow, silently rejoicing at the fact that she got him to laugh.
"Too damn right there's worse things," He sniffed, "I'm a catch." They laughed a little, only gently, considering the mood. Clara's head continued to throb after the ordeal and she wondered if every minute with John Smith would lead to a headache.
"Will Amy be ok? She looked- well I've seen her in better shape." John let out a sigh, placing his fingers and thumb at the bridge of his nose.
"Amy…Amy can't have kids. She found out about a year ago now and it, god, it devastated them. Those two are the strongest people I know and their entire lives nearly dissolved because of it, they nearly lost each other."
Clara felt awful. Hear heart simultaneously went out to them and broke for them. Two people so loving and wonderful shouldn't be deprived of something like that.
"That reporter, the Madam as they call her," he nearly spat venom as he said her name. "Somehow found out about it three months after Amy did, probably a leak in the clinic or something, my Aunt Sarah had to use a lot of connections to get her to bury the story and my father paid through the nose for it, It's one of the only good things he's ever done."
"He didn't have to though? I mean Amy and Rory could have handled the money right? So he really did do a good thing without necessity."
"Amy doesn't know that the reporter knows, Rory couldn't pay that woman off because Amy would see, she's been through enough pain without knowing someone would do that to her. The story was buried obviously or else you'd know before now. It's not because they're ashamed, there's nothing to be ashamed of after all, they just don't need the world knowing and seeing the headlines calling you 'barren' or whatever cruel nickname they come up with would kill her."
Clara nodded, wishing she could hug Amy for this hand she had been dealt whilst also imagining the sheer joy of slapping 'the Madam'. For a first fight it would be a justifiable cause.
"Why did she ask her if she was having kids then? If she knows she can't what's the point?" Clara's nose wrinkled in confusion.
"The fact that you can't see the motive just proves that you're a better person than most. she does it out of spite, Clara. She knows Amy doesn't know she knows and she knows Rory has to pretend the same, she does it for a reaction because she is evil, she is a vicious woman and I wouldn't wish her on anyone." John had sat up at some point his hands still subconsciously gripping the wheel.
"Don't mention this to them, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you knowing but they don't like to talk about it much, understandably." His voice was weaker than she had ever heard.
"Of course not, I wouldn't. Though I wish there was something I could do."
"You don't have to do anything."
"No, but I want to."
"Clara Oswald, always trying to make the world a better place," he smirked a little and Clara found herself no longer annoyed at it as she was in the beginning but almost enticed.
"Well if I don't, who will?" She half laughed and half sighed at the truth of the statement.
"You're preaching to the choir," he paused for a moment thinking. "You said you liked baking soufflés."
"You remember that?" Clara looked at him, touched that he could recall such a small thing. She tried not to giggle as he blushed softly just like Luke (it was very clear they were related).
"I may have seen the burnt remains of a fallen soufflé," Clara groaned loudly as he laughed.
"There's your answer though, Amy loves anything sweet, you could bake her a soufflé? Be soufflé girl." He gave her a jokey nickname at the end, waving his hands as if it were on a billboard in front of him.
"You know John Smith, that isn't an entirely bad idea." She teased.
"You know Clara Oswald, I think you might be right."
