Health and Safety: Chapter 20 – Straddle the Line
The Doctor's composure breaks a little with Ria and Émeric gone, leaving the two us alone, or close enough to alone, no one else out here being anywhere near us now. Well, except for the wagon driver, but he seemed like he was nodding off even before we left, looked like he had a bit of a rough night, which only affirms my worry about safe driving practices making it to the future...
The Doctor's conflicted expression betrays a sense of worry as he leans forward; bracing himself against the edge of the wagon with his hands, back to the plain.
"What's in a name anyways I suppose?" He asks, in a way that suggests he isn't expecting me to answer him.
"She is right though Doctor, you can't blame yourself for this. We've all made our own choices, the Etulians have, the people here have, Ria and Émeric have, and I have, all for our own reasons. The Etulians want to keep their planet alive. The people who are helping them are doing it for profit. Ria is trying to help us, Émeric wants to help her. And I certainly didn't go into your time stream 'in the name of the Doctor.' I did it for you, because… "
I did it because I love him. A thought that seems to be slipping out easier…
Luckily he seems too intent on the grain of the wood he's staring down at to notice I didn't finish what I was saying, and he doesn't appear to be waiting for me to continue. I hesitate for a moment, watching him, before approaching cautiously from behind, wrapping my arms around his chest and letting my chin rest on his shoulder. With him hunched over like this, I don't have to reach up to him for once.
He makes a contented noise at the contact, which steels my resolve…
I keep my chin stay on his shoulder for a moment longer, before turning my head, letting my funny nose brush against his cheek, tracing my way up to his ear, ignoring the fact that his chest has stopped rising and falling under my hands, and that his hammering hearts seem determined to make up for the stillness of his lungs...
My movement stops when my mouth is right by his ear, and I whisper softly to him, letting his real name roll off of my tongue like a song.
It's the first time I have said it out loud, not just to him- but at all.
"You knew it, my name, when we were outside the doors to my tomb; you had remembered finding it…" He sighs peacefully.
"Yeah…" I murmur, letting my chin drop to his shoulder again and leaning into his back.
"The Whisperman was going to kill you… It was reaching for your heart. It would have stopped it."
"I know."
"You could have said my name then, opened my tomb, no one would have thought less of you for that."
"No one?"
"I wouldn't have." He promises.
"I can think of someone who would have thought less of me if I'd done that."
"Who?" He asks, genuinely curious. I can't see his face, but I can imagine the furrow of his brow, mind trying to work out something he doesn't understand.
"Myself." I answer plainly.
He chuckles roughly, turning slightly and tickling my forehead with his fringe.
"Oh Clara, my Clara."
"Am I?" I ask abruptly, feeling unsure of if I am allowed to, or specifically if I should have allowed myself to.
"Are you what?"
"Your Clara… you keep saying that... and you didn't use to…"
He hesitates, obviously picking his next words with care, making me feel like I really shouldn't have asked.
"Do you remember what you told me? About why you wanted to remember my name, my real name?"
"Of course I do."
"Well, when I… when I say my Clara, it means that what you chose to do is important, but you need to know that you are more than just impossible. You are a person, a person who made the choice to do what you did, to become who you are. You, Clara Oswald, my Clara, are unique in all the universes and are utterly irreplaceable to me."
What do I say to that? I lift my head off of his shoulder so I can look at him. Being back to front we have had most of this conversation without being able to properly see each other...
But I can see his eyes now, and there's something about them that makes me feel almost unnerved. There are times when he certainly knows how powerful his gaze can be, but times like this I really do think he forgets…
"My Doctor." I settle on, the words coming out easily now that I've chosen them.
Because I know all of his faces, even the one he hides from himself, the one he won't call the Doctor, but this is the first face I saw, well sort of… It would be fitting for the person who hates endings that it will always be impossible to tell where our beginning is, and where our end will be too. But regardless, this will always be the face I fell in love with. I'm not ready for him to know that yet, at least not know it in the sense of me telling him outright, but that doesn't make it any less true.
He takes advantage of my face being off his shoulder to turn fully and stand up to his proper height, hands rising to cup my cheek and settle on my back as my arms rest on his chest instead of remaining locked around him. His eyes keep darting up and down my face, eyes to lips, and back again... It's a familiar motion; one I've caught myself doing on more than one occasion.
Several occasions actually…
Not that I was ever counting…
And not that I'm doing it right now either…
His dance stops as his head snaps back around to the wagon, which confuses me for a moment before I feel him tipping backwards, pulling me with him. He must have still been leaning against the wagon, and it has started lurching forward…
We topple off of our feet, a hot cloud of dust puffing up around us as the wagon grinds to a halt again a few feet away, and the groggy voice of the driver can be heard trying to soothe the horses. The Doctor spared me from the worst of the fall, since he was the one who hit the ground first and I landed squarely on top of him.
At first he looks disgruntled, but then he smiles warily, looking back up at me, eyes seeming to begin flitting again of their own accord.
"We can't blame my bustle this time." I murmur at him, unmoving and unsure if I actually want to divert his attention at the moment… His finger hooks under my chin, forcing me to look right at him.
"We have never had a time to blame this on your bustle Clara." He says, voice a low rumble, the hand resting on my back holding me a little bit tighter…
He pushes himself up slightly, accidentally brushing our noses…
Oh this is a possibly very bad plan… But it is a plan, and people always have plans right..?
I let one hand sneak up to reach behind his neck and grip it softly, giving him every chance to stop me or to push away… When he doesn't, I gently, almost fearfully, brush my lips against his. He doesn't flap about, or point accusingly at me, or squirm at all this time. Instead his arms stay in place as he works against my lips with his own, equally hesitant at first, but when we both figure out that the other isn't running anywhere, the hesitancy fades away as his fingers find the back of my head and weave into my hair, his lips parting…
I think you just did.
You kissed me!
You blushed.
And… with… just… Shut up!
The Doctor's voice calls out with horror, echoing strangely, but getting closer. I feel like I'm falling for a moment, and my eyes open with the crack I'd hoped not to hear again... He's rolled me off of him, and I'm lying on my back in the dirt with him hovering over me, looking utterly terrified. Unable, or possibly just unwilling to look at him, I roll onto my side, trying to collect my dignity.
Now?
That.
Had.
To.
Happen.
Now?
Ahhhh!
He tugs me back to face him, eyes boring into me.
"I'm sorry, Clara, Clara Oswald, listen to me, look at me, Clara this is real, this is the real you."
"I know that." I scoff, feeling embarrassed and annoyed all at the same time.
"I'm not sure you do…" He edges.
"What do you mean?"
"I saw what you were seeing Clara, but… more importantly… You keep mirroring that echo; you have been since I took you back to the Maitland's."
"I don't pick which me I end up seeing memories of Doctor."
"Not which you Clara, which echo of yourself. But that's not what I meant; I'm not talking about when you get caught up in your head. You are actually mirroring her, things that she said, things that I said to her."
"You said that Oswin was me, doesn't that make her, Clara Oswin Oswald, doesn't that make her me too? Why is this a problem?"
"Clara, to use your own words, you are the recipe, they are the soufflés. Them being you does not make you them." He explains, very slowly, tucking a stray bit of my hair before continuing softly. "It doesn't work both ways, it can't. They are a reflection of you; you can't be a reflection of them."
"Why was the sound back? Why wasn't it gentle like this morning?" I ask, definitely trying to divert him now.
"Because you were much farther gone, and that memory is of me, well, this body of me. I don't know how to ease you out of that; I can't do it like the other memories. I don't know what would happen if there was two of this me at once, how would you know which me was real if you don't even know which you is real?" He asks desperately.
The fact that I don't immediately have a good reply for that frightens me.
"I wasn't expecting you could answer Clara, I just want you to think about it." He says tenderly as he stands up and offers me a hand to my feet.
A little ways away, Ria's horse, who had been left with us but forgotten this whole time, whinnies loudly.
"Yes, thank you for your opinion Ardist." The Doctor tells her gruffly.
She shakes her head at him, snorting, and he suddenly looks embarrassed.
"Well, yes I suppose that's true when you put it like that..."
He is talking to a horse. He is having a conversation with a horse… And you know what? It doesn't surprise me. Probably should, but somehow it doesn't…
"What do you mean leaving?" He asks in alarm, whipping around to find our wagon is beginning to roll forward slowly again.
He grabs my hand, pulling me with him as he breaks into a run, an easy jog for him but a little more hurried for me with my shorter legs. As we catch up, he effortlessly lifts me and sets me down on the floor, then leaps in himself, flashing me a childish grin before sitting up, letting his legs dangle out the over the edge.
"Thanks." He mumbles wearily to the horse, who is ambling along behind us of her own accord.
"Is it bad that you being silly has stopped surprising me?"
"Possibly?"
"Not that there is anything wrong with silly or we wouldn't still be talking."
"Clara!"
"What?"
"You don't even realize you're doing it do you?" He asks incredulously.
"Doing what?"
"The mirroring."
I shake my head, scuttling closer to him and letting my feet dangle out the back of the wagon too.
"We have to be careful Clara."
"I know we'll figure something out to sort the Etulians."
"Not what I meant… They aren't the only thing I'm afraid I might lose you to." He says ominously.
"I'm not going anywhere without you." I promise, leaning into him from the side and letting my fingers thread through his.
Because I'm not, because I don't walk out on the people I care about, because Ria was right, we are both ridiculously protective of the people we-
Of the people we love.