(Clara!)
Clara crashed into a tree, holding onto its trunk with her arms to keep her shaking legs from giving out beneath her. She tried to control her frantic breathing so that she could listen to the voice she most wanted to hear in the universe echo faintly in the recesses of her mind. She could sense the owner of that voice nearby, but was unable to get a lock on him.
(Clara! Claaaraaa!)
Swallowing hard, she managed to still her panting enough to concentrate. She didn't want to close her eyes, being afraid of not being able to see the creatures pursuing her before they reached her, but she needed to focus. Shutting them tight, she willed the rest of her body into stillness.
(Doctor? Doctor! Where are you? I…I've gotten myself separated from you and I can't seem to find you. I think I'm lost. Where are you?)
A feeling of comfort and reassurance abruptly flowed into her mind, along with the strong sensation of love that always accompanied the Doctor's presence in her consciousness. She had the impression he was very nearby.
(Vastra and I are about a half mile from where you are. Stay put and I'll be right there.)
Stay, he says, she puzzled, wishing he'd told her to come to him instead. She felt like a sitting duck where she was right now. Opening her eyes, she turned her back to the tree, scoping out the immediate area to make sure nothing could ambush her.
Which turned out to be a fatal mistake.
Something suddenly pierced her left hand, sinking deep into the flesh between her thumb and first finger. With a short yelp Clara jerked her hand upward, to see a small writhing reptile hanging onto her by its fangs. In horror she shook her hand rapidly outward, the motion dislodging the creature and flinging it away a few feet. She brought her hand up to see the damage and was dismayed to find it bleeding freely. As she held it with her other hand she realized there was a further danger involved…her vision was becoming blurred as she began to feel drowsy. I wonder if it just poisoned me, she thought, as she swayed on her feet. She dropped to the ground as the Doctor's voice boomed in her head.
(Clara! CLARA! WHAT just poisoned you? Clara! Talk to me!)
(Small critter just bit me), she managed to communicate. She was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. It felt like it would just be nice to go to sleep so the pain in her hand would go away.
(NO! Clara! Please—stay conscious, darling, please. I'm almost there—I—)
The warm, fuzzy sensation spread all over her, and she curled up into a ball. The pain in her hand was still there, but the sleepiness that overpowered her made it less and less important. Instead, she found herself drifting between wakefulness and dreams. She could hear the frantic cries of the Doctor, but they were fading away, being replaced by something else.
She was walking down the aisle of a small chapel, holding a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots and red roses. Her beautifully draped cream-tinted gown rippled with each step she took, and she could smell the fragrance of the gardenia that crowned her head. Her chocolate strands of silky hair broke upon her shoulders like a wave, ending in perfect curls. Holding her right arm, her father's outward appearance as he walked calmly down the aisle with her belied the inner turmoil he was feeling about giving her away. For at the end of that aisle stood the man who not only would be marrying his daughter, but would also be sweeping her away in a blue box to who knows where in the universe on their honeymoon. Not to mention the fact that the groom was an alien, with two hearts, who was at least 2,000 years old. Dave Oswald felt like he would never get used to that.
Clara shifted a tiny bit as she dreamily relived her wedding, just a week ago (of course it was hard to tell if it was a week or two weeks, considering how time just sort of got away from you in the TARDIS). Her lips widened a little into a tranquil smile as the memories continued to flow.
Looking ahead of her up the aisle, Clara considered her husband to be. The Doctor had turned slightly from facing the altar, and was looking back at her, an adoring gaze in his glittering green eyes. Before long a downright goofy grin spread across his face. Clara gave him a smoldering look from under her lashes and smiled demurely back at him, her dimples showing. The Doctor swallowed so audibly, she could hear him from half way up the aisle.
Before long she was standing next to him, her father slipping into the background momentarily while the Doctor took her wrist and wrapped a gold sash, embroidered with the Gallifreyan seal, around it, and then around his own, so they were joined by the fabric. As they held it between them, her father gave her away. The Doctor leaned forward and whispered his true name into her ear. She could still feel his soft breath as he tenderly spoke it.
She repeated it now, a bit slurred, but it still came out. She loved the way the vowels and the consonants of it danced together on her tongue. And then the Doctor's voice, sounding even more distraught, reverberated through her mind.
(My darling…I hear you…hang on…I'm coming, sweetheart, I'm almost there…oh Rassilon, please, for all that's holy, hang on!)
Why is he so upset, she wondered, even as the sweet memories continued to lull her into oblivion.
Now they were facing Kate Leithbridge Stewart, the only one the Doctor had wanted to officiate the wedding. She led them through their handwritten vows, pledges of love and loyalty and respect for each other for as long as time gave them. They slipped golden rings on each other's fingers, engraved with their names in Gallifreyan. Then they kissed.
Clara smiled broadly over the memory. Kate had had to clear her throat at least four or five times to remind the Doctor they had an audience, as he didn't seem to want release her lips for anything or anyone. Her mind skipped over the reception, and skittered over to the moment when the two of them stood together for the first time in what had once been his room exclusively in the TARDIS. The kissing, hugging and caressing had started in earnest then, and when they lay together in bed under TARDIS blue silken sheets, he led her through that which he'd prepared her for those many weeks ago.
