Clara was going to regret this; if this didn't work then she would suffer greatly for it. She knew if she failed, this was likely to be the worst punishment she ever received. She didn't think the Doctor would ever kill her, but she had a feeling the punishment she received was likely to make her wish she was dead. Even knowing this, she still had to try.
Clara leaned over the unconscious form of the Doctor passed out on the couch by the fire in the library. She felt a pang of regret as she looked at his peaceful, relaxed face as he leaned on the couch in an unnatural way; he'd actually been kind today. But she couldn't keep herself in this position forever because he was sometimes kind. She had to get out….
Clara picked up the empty tea cup off of the floor and moved it so it wasn't in sight; even so, she knew when the Doctor woke up he would instantly know that she had drugged him, that she had attempted to escape. Not only attempted it, she had planned it out thoroughly. She felt another pang of sadness and regret as she looked at the Doctor one last time before fleeing the room. While he was sleeping he was peaceful and calm; he even looked young and innocent. There were times that he as all those things. But there were enough times that he wasn't all those things that she knew she needed to do something. She loved him; despite everything that had happened she still did love him. But she needed to look out for herself which was why she was leaving; she knew it was the coward's move but she couldn't help it.
Walking as quietly as she could out of the door and she then tore off down the hallway. She didn't know how long she had before the Doctor woke up; the sedative she had given him should put him out for several hours but considering he was not human she had no idea how long it would last and she couldn't afford to waste time. She knew the Doctor needed help and she felt disgusted with herself for abandoning him but she was weak and she didn't know if she even could help him.
Clara's heart was beating hard in her chest when she reached the console room. It was eerily quiet and all she could hear or feel was her own pulse in her ears. She walked up to the console, unsure what to do. She had seen the Doctor fly her many times but that didn't mean that she had any idea how to do it herself. She pressed buttons on the console but nothing happened. She tried everything that she could think of, everything that she had ever seen him do but nothing managed to bring the ship to life. She knew it was a long shot but it was all that she had and she had to try.
"Can't you just work!? Please!" Clara muttered in frustration as she hit the console. "I don't know how to work you but can't you just please take me home?" She pressed button after button, pulling levers but nothing happened. A frustrated sob escaped her as she crumpled against the console in defeat. She'd been so hopeful that this would work that she hadn't given much thought to the possibility that it wouldn't.
"Please…help me" Clara begged the ship, feeling crazy that she was talking to the ship that had become her prison like it was a person, something she had always teased the Doctor for.
"She won't, you know…she only listens to me"
Clara heard the voice behind her but she didn't want to turn and see him. His voice was so cold, so harsh; not the way that it was supposed to be. It made the blood in her veins stop cold and her hands grow sweaty. Her mouth was so dry she didn't know if she actually could speak. He was standing behind her and she could feel him; he was waiting for her to turn around. Eventually, she did, knowing that she couldn't run, couldn't avoid him.
To say that the Doctor was angry was nothing but a horrible understatement. He was furious; anger flowed through him like a white hot river. He had woken feeling drowsy and slow and he instantly knew what the reason was. The tea that Clara had so kindly made for him had been drugged. She had tried to run before but this was so much worse; she had planned this out; she had taken time to plan on how to leave rather than taking an impulsive run for the door. Something in his mind felt hurt; sadness pressed down on him so deeply that it made it hard to breathe. She wanted to leave him; she didn't care about him. She took the first chance that she could to leave him. His sorrow at the thought was too much to bear and it reared its head over the anger. His anger would come in waves, almost as if taken over by an invisible force in his head. He couldn't make it go away but he could control it to an extent. Right now he could hold it back and feel the sorrow or he could let the anger go and feel it instead. Anger was powerful and made him feel in control; thinking about how sad he would be if Clara left made him feel sad and weak. Consciously, he let down the barrier in his mind that held his anger back and let it go. It filled him up, making his weakness turn to power and turning sorrow into rage as he looked at the woman who sought to betray him.
There was fear in Clara's eyes when she turned around and faced him. He expected it and was glad it was there; he would have been disappointed if it hadn't. He sauntered up to her and leaned on the console beside her. "Did you really think that you could just walk in here and command the TARDIS to obey you?" he asked. "After hundreds of years of traveling with me, did you really think she would just decide to listen to you?"
Clara didn't like the hungry, vicious look in his eyes; she'd seen it before. There wasn't much she could say; nothing she said was going to change what he did to her. He knew what she had done and it was going to cost her greatly. But she could also tell that though her arguing would be futile, he still expected her to speak. "I….I just wanted to go home" she said. Her voice was weak and she could tell. There was no fight left in her.
The Doctor could see her defeat already; perhaps she thought it would save her in the long run but she was going to find out that she was very, very wrong. Nothing would save her from what he had planned to teach her a lesson. Not after such extreme betrayal. "After I told you no….after I said that you couldn't go home, you just decided that you'd made up your own mind and that you'd leave? You thought that that would be a good idea?" Though his voice was calm, it was the calm before the storm.
Clara felt a tremor of fear go through her at the calm tone of the Doctor's voice. When he was quiet, that's when he was most dangerous. She saw the flicker of bloodlust in his eyes and she felt her mouth go even drier but she forced it to speak. "I just miss Earth" she said sadly. She knew that sympathy would get her nowhere but it was all that she had. Fighting him only made it worse.
The Doctor felt his anger burn harder at the sight of the sorrow in her eyes. She was weak, pitiful looking; she was faking it. She had to be; only minutes ago she was boldly planning her deception and now she was cowering like she was the victim. He'd give her something to really cry about.
The Doctor grabbed Clara by the wrist roughly and pulled her closer to him, anger flashing in his eyes as she called out in pain. He didn't care. "I would have thought that by now you would have learned by now that going against me is not a good thing" he said deadly quiet, narrowing his eyes at her.
Clara tried not to focus on the pain in her wrist, staying still so that it hurt less. She said the only thing she could think of, the only thing she felt. "I just want you back the way you were" she said, her eyes watering but she held it back.
"I was weak" The Doctor said vehemently. "I won't be weak again. Maybe this time when I teach you a lesson, you won't do it again"
The Doctor began to pull Clara down the corridor towards his room, pain shooting through her arm from his vicious pull. She felt extreme dread flow through her blood as she wondered why she'd done this. She should have known that this stupid ship wouldn't listen to her. Her hands were beginning to shake from the fear of what was coming. She had 'disobeyed' him a few times and the punishments that she had received had not been at all pleasant. The last time, she had been left bedridden for two days.
The Doctor dragged Clara to his room, opening the door and shoving her inside. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and she was finding it difficult to breathe. Her legs were shaky as the Doctor shoved her toward his bed and threw her on top of it. Her head whipped back as she fell on the bed, staring up at the Doctor, at the anger in his eyes. She tried not to show how scared she was but a shudder went through her as she braced for what was coming.
The rage in the Doctor's head was so consuming his vision was tinted red. He normally tried to fight some of the rage that sought to take over him but letting go completely, letting it fill every part of him. He was tired of Clara insolence; he'd taught her over and over again to not go against him and she still hadn't listened. She was bold, she was arrogant; he had to teach her a lesson.
The Doctor leaned over top of Clara, glaring down at her. He kept his eyes locked on hers with a dark ferocity that made the fear in her eyes increase. He wrenched her shoes off of her feet, followed by her tights which gave a loud rip as he pulled them off. When he reached for her skirt and knickers, she put her hands in the way, a look of terror on her eyes. A quick smack on the face and she quickly moved her hands; she knew better than that. He ripped the rest of Clara's clothes off, leaving her naked and rubbing her face as she looked up at him.
Clara rubbed her face, looking up at the Doctor. She wasn't surprised he had hit her; she knew better than to try to fight him. It wasn't like this wasn't the first time he had done this; he'd taken her plenty of times and though she wasn't used to it, she knew better than to fight it. However, as she looked up at him, his expression of bloodlust, not hunger, suggested that he didn't plan on holding her down and raping her. At least not just that; he had something else planned and she shivered from fear and cold.
The Doctor grabbed Clara by the hair and pulled her up closer to him. She whimpered from the pain shooting through her skull as she fought to look at him Tears were already springing to her eyes and she hated herself for it. "Please don't do this" she found herself begging. It was all she could think to do.
The Doctor did not appreciate her attempts to get out of this; she had known exactly what she had been doing and now she wanted him to just forget about? She thought she could beg him and bat her eyes and that would work on him? There was a time that that would have worked on him but those times were long gone. The grabbed her neck out of anger, squeezing until he heard her gasp for air. He slammed her against the wall, pressing against her as she squirmed in pain. "Why? You plan to leave me…..think about it, plan it out and I should simply forget about it?" he asked angrily, his eyes boring into hers. "When are you going to learn that I'm not an idiot?!"
Clara gasped for air, the Doctor's fingers pressing into her throat tightly. She knew arguing would be useless and since she couldn't speak much anyway, she said all that would do her any good at all. "I'm sorry" she gasped out, her throat sore and her head dizzy from lack of air.
The Doctor looked at her with disgust, throwing her to the ground. She gulped air quickly, not knowing if he would want to cut it off again. She looked up at him, pulling into herself to protect and cover herself. The tears at her eyes spilled over and ran down her face as she met his dark ones.
The Doctor reached down and pulled her up to him by the hair again causing her to scream. His teeth were gritted and his face full of rage. "You're sorry? Sorry! You think that makes it better?" he asked. "You know better…you're not sorry" He bellowed as he threw her back on the bed again. Fear coursed through Clara and she felt herself flinch involuntarily as the Doctor's shadow came over her.
The Doctor fed off the pathetically vulnerable sight of Clara stripped and cowering on the bed but it didn't make the anger inside him go away; it gave it strength. He could feel her fear; feel the terror of her mind as the edge of his own. The Doctor fell down on the bed on top of Clara, pinning her down beneath him. She gasped for air under him but he ignored it, enjoying the look of fear on her face. Feeling her mind and what it contained, the Doctor reached out for hers; he would make sure, without a doubt, that he remembered this experience and would not disobey him again. Pushing his mind toward Clara's he was suddenly immersed in everything that was her mind. It was closed and he pushed his way inside, seeing fully how afraid she was of him. He saw flashes of memories this one recalled; the times he had hurt her before and the impressions it made. He could see the nightmares she had now and how she always had to sleep with a nightlight now to try to keep the demons at bay. He saw her desperation and the planning she had gone through to plan this escape and that only made him angry; with the force of it he ripped through her mind, seeing memories and taking knowledge as he wanted. Clara squirmed and whimpered under him, calling out occasionally.
Clara had never felt anything like she was feeling now. The Doctor had hit her, tortured her even but the pain that she was experiencing now was nothing in comparison to that pain. The Doctor was in her head. Somehow, he had managed to push his way into her very mind and it hurt excruciatingly. She could feel the presence of his own mind moving through hers like a cold knife. She felt like everything she was and ever had been was there spread open for the Doctor to see; which of course it was. It was horribly embarrassing, demeaning, not to mention to painful.
"Stop! Stop!" Clara begged, tears running down the side of her face. The Doctor completely ignored her pleas. He pushed his mind even deeper into hers until she couldn't formulate her own thoughts. All she was aware of was pain and the vague sensation of screaming. Her mind was so filled with the Doctor's invasion that all she could see was his thoughts.
As painful and awful as it was, there was one thing that instantly struck her about the Doctor's mind; there was something wrong here, something that didn't feel like him at all. She didn't know how to explain it; she had never been inside someone's mind before but there was something that didn't belong there and she knew that. The calm, gentle, nice part of the Doctor, the part that was him before he had changed, seemed to be tucked deep down inside. It was almost trapped, being covered by something dark and sinister, something that didn't belong there.
The Doctor pulled back from the touch he had on Clara's mind, frightened. Somehow, while he had been controlling her mind, she had pushed back and seen into his own mind. It made him feel exposed and bare and he didn't care for it at all. He wasn't sure how she had done it but he did not like it at all. Feeling a burst of anger at this intrusion, at this lack of control, he grabbed Clara by the neck and pushed her onto the floor. She called out in pain but her eyes were focused on him determinedly. "Doctor…what….was that?" she asked.
Dread hit the Doctor's stomach as he worried what she might have seen. Whatever it was, he was not going to acknowledge it. He had to regain control again…..had to.
The Doctor's hands on Clara's throat tightened, fingers digging into her flesh. Clara tried to fight, tried to breathe but her air way was completely cut off and she found herself consumed with the worry that hit one when geninually fearing for their life. Her vision grew dark at the edges and she felt herself falling unconscious.
The Doctor felt his fear ebb away as the rage consumed. Clara turned red and desperate before she went slack underneath him. Seeing her unconscious the Doctor forced himself to stop. He didn't want to stop; he enjoyed the feeling of power it granted. But contrary to what she might think , he didn't want to kill her. A smile turned at the corner of his lips; that didn't mean that he couldn't give her some very noticeable reminders of her insolence for when she woke up.