Welp, I keep thinking about different moments in Doctor Who that are like other moments from Doctor Who…
…It's a bit wibbly-wobbly.
So that's where the inspiration for this next one-shot comes from. Hope you guys enjoy. :)
God bless and have a great day (or night)!
ThePro-LifeCatholic
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters. If I did, Ten would've come back for several other episodes, or something. How many years has it been now, and I'm still not quite over him yet?
Chicascoming: You are very welcome! If you ever think of another prompt, feel free to ask me. I loved the one you sent me, by the way. It was a lot of fun to write.
ErinKenobi2893: Yep. Donna and the Doctor. One of my favorite duos on the show, actually. And I will get to your prompt as soon as possible. Also, I can totally see the Doctor Who characters quoting Princess Bride. It's a movie that suits them wonderfully!
Writing Prompt #97: Caught in a Trap
Characters: 11th Doctor, Clara Oswald, mentions of Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, and 10th Doctor
Shippings: None, unless you want to squint really hard and imagine 10/Rose
Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort/Angst
Rating: K-K+
"I…I don't know where I am. I don't know where I am!"
The Doctor's long fingers danced across the keyboard. He could still hear Clara's frightened voice ringing in his ears.
"Help me! I don't know where I am…"
On the other side of this laptop, somewhere quite far away no doubt, someone was attempting to steal this girl's essence. Her identity. The Doctor's stone-set face glared at the screen; just the thought of such a deed was enough to kindle his fury.
The keys under his hands clicked and clacked at an impossible speed as he typed. Words and alien symbols flashed across the screen in a whirl of lights. He hunched forward, eyes flickering as the words spun by. His fingers tapped on the keys, a blur of frenzied activity.
"Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!"
The Doctor found himself thinking about her as he typed. He could see it perfectly in his mind's eye. He remembered seeing her faceless, alone, after she had been thrown into the street. The black-and-white image of a 20-some-year-old girl staring out at him. He could feel the barely-contained rage that had pumped fire through his veins. He hadn't been able to hear her voice, but she had been calling for him. For him.
Just like Clara – that impossible girl – was doing now.
"I don't know where I am!"
He wondered if that's what Donna Noble had been thinking after she had been "saved" by the library, with her face plastered to a mechanical device.
"Help me!"
Memories flooded his mind, fueling him, pushing him on, making his fingers type faster than ever before. Seconds dragged as he worked to save her, a girl he barely knew.
Finally, the downloading process stopped. Then it began to reverse. The Doctor leaned back, letting out a shaky breath, and realizing just then that he had been holding his breath that entire time. He creaked down the stairs, stopping in front of Clara's body. He laid a hand to her head. She was definitely in there, unconscious but safe.
He smiled fondly as he brushed back her brown hair. Then he lifted her up gently and carried her to the bed upstairs. After tucking her in and providing her with flowers, a glass of water, and some jammy dogers, he parked himself outside her house in the parking lot. She was safe now, but he'd stick around to make sure that the situation was really and truly taken care of.
He'd watch over her. It's what he'd done in the past, and he certainly wasn't going to change that now.