Chapter Two

I wake up with a start, the dream haunting me. It all seemed so familiar, the way the woman answered with just the right amount of sass, how the little blue box was bigger on the inside, and how the man ran around the console, excited for a new adventure. It feels like if I could just remember how their faces looked…

The door opens and the Doctor walks in.

"Good Morning, Clara." He says with a bright and happy smile.

"Good Morning, Doctor."

"How was sleeping?"

"Great, but, I had a very strange dream."

The Doctor's face is contorted with concern.

"Tell me about the dream you had."

"There was a man and a woman outside a blue box, and they were chatting. The woman called the box a snog box, and she said for the man to come back on Wednesday. The man then jumped into the box, which was bigger on the inside, and said something about going to Wednesday."

The Doctor's eyes widen, and he looks happy.

"Clara, that was a memory." He says, holding my hand. "That was when I asked you to travel with me, in my bigger-on-the-inside blue box."

His smile is so big he looks like he's about to burst.

"So, I remembered something, about my past." I say, excited that I'm getting my memories back.

We smile at each other.

"I'm remembering."

"You're remembering."

"Doctor, I'm remembering!"

I laugh and hug the Doctor. His warmth comforting me, its familiarity triggering something in my brain. And suddenly I'm saying something, but in a whisper.

"Run. Run you clever boy, and remember me."

Then the feeling's gone.

The Doctor whispers something in my ear.

"Clara, what did you just say?"

"I have no idea. It's like my brain just clicked, and I said that."

He hugs me tighter.

"Don't ever leave me."

He tucks his head into my shoulder as he says it.

"I don't plan on it."

A moment later I break from the hug and look at the Doctor. His hair looks rough and undone. His eyes have bags under them and look considerably older.

"Doctor, did you sleep last night?"

He gives me a simple answer.

"No."

"Doctor, you need to sleep, and brush your hair." I say, combing his hair with my fingers. I then realize what I'm doing and take my hand out of his hair.

"Sorry." I say, blushing. He looks at me and giggles.

"I actually kind of enjoyed that…"

"Oh, you did?" I say with a little sass.

"Yes, I did."

"So you enjoyed… This?" I say, messing up his already messed up hair.

"Oi!" he grabs my hand from out of his hair. "Like this," he takes my limp hand and combs his hair with it.

"Nah. That doesn't look as good as your hair when it's all messed up."

I pull my hand from his grasp, and out of his hair.

"Well, you should see your hair, soufflé girl."

Ignoring the soufflé comment, I reply.

"Oi! It's probably not as bad as your hair."

"Yeah, you're right, maybe it would look better if I did this!" and he ruffles my hair into my face.

"Oh. Ha. Ha. Real funny, Doctor. Now if you could get your hand out of my hair, that would be great."

He pauses, and tries to pull his hand from my hair.

"It's stuck, Clara."

I look at him with wide eyes.

"Are you serious?"

He nods.

"Okay, try again." I say, expecting him to pull his hand out of my hair easily, but it stays firmly stuck. "Oh no."

"Yeah, it's definitely stuck," and then he grins, "Told you it was messier than mine."

I narrow my eyes at him, "Very mature, Doctor."

"Yes, I know."

"Um, do you have a hairbrush?"

"How about a sonic screwdriver?"

"Ha Ha, real funny. We're going to need a hairbrush to get out of this mess."

"Well, my sonic might actually work…" he says, his sentence drifting off as he looks into my eyes.

"Doctor," I say, hoping to maintain his attention, "stay focused on the problem." I soften the sentence with a smile and a small laugh.

He sits up.

"Right!" he says, fixing his bowtie and making a face. "Back to hairbrush….ing?"

"Yup. You know, I think your sonic might just work…"

"Let's try." He takes out his sonic from his pants pocket, where it usually never is placed. The Doctor points the Gallifreyan screwdriver at the rat's nest that my hair is, and I feel my hair loosen and he slips his hand out.

"Well! That worked well!" he says joyously, holding out his hand for a high five. I reject the hand slap, his hand has my hair weaved through his long, slender fingers.

"Your hand…" I say and I take his hand and I carefully remove the hair, holding his hand in mine. After removing the ball of hair, his hand curls around mine and he stands up.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Doctor, I just removed a ball of hair from your fingers and you want to dance?"

"Yes, because… Oh, what's that crazy term that's all over twitter?" he asks himself, touching his hand to his chin. "err… rolo?"

"Yolo?" I ask, bewildered.

"Yes! Yolo! You only live once! Although technically it would not be applicable to myself."

"Doctor, you want to dance with me because of… Yolo?!"

"Yup." He says with a completely straight face.

"You do realize that yolo is the most ridiculous thing ever, right?" I say, raising an eyebrow and smiling. It feels all too familiar to sass the Doctor, and it gives me an odd feeling.

"Well, um. Oh well. May I have this dance, Clara Oswald?"

Oswald, is that what my last name is?

"Sure."

I stand up, the Doctor helping me off my bed. He takes my hand in his, placing the other on my waist. I place my hand on his shoulder, and the whole thing just feels so natural. Like we've done this a million times before.

We move to the silence of the room, only our footsteps and our close breaths accompany us.

Everything is perfect until there is a loud bang from somewhere in the TARDIS. The Doctor looks at the door, and what I see in his eyes scares me more than any monster could. Fear. But it's more than that. It's absolute terror.

"Clara.." He says slowly, trying hard to keep the fear out of his voice, "Run."

And he looks at me. A mix of desperation and fear and god knows what runs across his face.

Then he demands it.

"Run. Now."

And I do. I don't know where I'm running to, safety maybe? Or Home? But as I run through the endless hallways of the TARDIS, I know where I'm running to. Ever so vaguely do I remember running through these hallways before, and encountering a library of such grandness it cannot escape my mind, as everything else has.