Fragments

Five: Still The Doctor

The light, affectionate kisses pressed to my forehead were what awakened me. I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes- because physically, I was an exhausted wreck- but there was a warmth in my heart that grew fonder as his gentle hand smoothed a strand of loose hair from the side of my face. Content, a quiet sigh escaped my lips. I knew who my visitor was, who it always would be.

I felt the man cup his palm around my cheek one last time before contact was lost. A fire still lingered under my skin, still fresh from his touch. Feeling slightly abandoned, I stirred awake. My eyelids flicked open, and I waited a second for my vision to adjust. He bent over the nightstand table by the side of my hospital bed, scribbling something on a thin slip of paper. The table was so short that he had to bend over like a stork. His dark brown hair flopped over his face like a curtain, obscuring his eyes. He didn't seem to realize I was watching him.

When he finished writing on the small paper, he pushed it to the back of the nightstand, right under his burgundy bow tie, the one I had slipped into my pocket a time ago. His fingers paused over the silky material for a moment. His lips pressed together, expressing fond remembrance. Then, before I could reach out for him, that ancient time traveling man I loved so much turned towards the door to leave alone.

"No, wait," came a raspy call I didn't consciously make. "Doctor..."

He paused. And turned around. Light glinted off his deep green irises. His lips were slightly agape; his hands stiff by his pockets. Guilt filled those big sad eyes.

"Hello, Clara," he said weakly. The sound of his voice- just as I remembered it- nearly brought me to tears.

"How are you even here?" I asked him. "Are you... are you real?"

A smile stretched across his face, glowing in the light of the sun that poured through the window. "I can assure you, most definitely real."

I laughed- perhaps because I wasn't sure what else to do in the situation- but the action somehow seemed empty now. "I don't understand how this is possible," I whispered. "You changed."

Any and all happiness that had come upon him washed away in an instant. Blood drained from his veins in his cheeks, leaving his skin ashen.

"Well, I'm going to," he replied, his line of sight falling upon the ground. He clasped his hands together nervously. "Haven't really gotten to that part yet. Thought I'd at least make a few calls, say goodbye..."

~8~

Light pressed upon Clara's eyelids, becoming an unwanted weight as she slowly came back from the recesses of her mind. An unknown force seemed to pin her in place like a target on a dartboard. Her fingers were stiff, and her legs twitched from lack of use. A quiet moan pushed past her lips, one she wasn't aware of making.

There was a voice, as well.

"Miss Oswald? Miss?"

It was a woman's, light and gentle.

"Miss Oswald, are you awake?"

She arched her head back and yawned. Gently, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and murmured a quiet "yes" in response to the nurse's question. The young woman nodded, and then proceeded to set a small tray of food at her bedside table. Clara could see the nurse's face as she knelt down, and she quickly did a double take. She could make out whiskers, grey fur, and a petite nose. Amazed, she struggled to keep from staring too much. The woman was a cat. There was actually a species of intelligent, talking cats. Instantly fascinated, she decided she'd ask the Doctor about the species later; he could probably talk about them for centuries and still manage to get her home in time for tea.

Oh.

The Doctor.

She suddenly found herself regretting that she had ever reminded herself about him. He had regenerated and forgotten his past, including her. It seemed he was a completely different man. For all she knew, he'd just left her here. But how did she even get here in the first place? The last memories she had were of being caught between realities on Trenzalore, in a place they couldn't escape from. She'd broken her knee, and they'd crossed their timelines and yelled at each other a few times. The very last thing she had been aware of before she passed out was the Time Lord finally beginning to tell her how he planned to fix everything.

It seemed a lot happened while she was unconscious.

Clara managed to sit up in bed, reveling in the feel of individual vertebrae bending into place once more. She glanced at the bedside table, and at the generic food the nurse had put there. Her nurse now roamed around the room, messing with an electronic display here and there.

"How long have I been here?" Clara asked hesitantly, kneading her hands in her lap.

The nurse turned around with a reassuring smile. "Almost two weeks. You were in a mild coma for most of it, and only came out a few days ago. Yesterday we performed surgery on your knee. Should be as good as new."

"Thank you," Clara expressed sincerely, glad that for once, someone was explaining things to her. She could actually feel her leg now, no doubt because of a successful surgery. A closer look at her nurse revealed a small name badge slung around her neck. Novice Sari, it read. "And... where is this?"

"That's right, he said you were an off-worlder," Novice Sari said with a small chuckle. "You're on New Earth, love, in the Sisters of Observance Hospital."

Clara began to poke at the food on her tray then, satisfied enough with the answer. It wasn't as if Sari could get any more specific, and recite the distance from this room to her apartment on Earth measured in kilometers, rounded to one hundredth. The food on the transparent dish was pale and orange. It seemed to be a type of fleshy fruit, mashed up like applesauce. Daringly, she spooned a bit into her mouth, and swallowed. Hmm. It was definitely fruit. It wasn't the best tasting fruit she'd ever had, but it was digestible.

Then, she noticed what sat next to the tray. Fat tears built up in her eyes. Just when she thought she might be able to forget him, a reminder comes in the shape of his old burgundy bow tie. Whoever had changed her into the hospital gown must have taken special care to retrieve this from the pocket of her cardigan sweater, which narrowed the list down to one time traveling, two-hearted individual.

It was petty and selfish, but Clara still felt betrayed by him. The last thing she wanted to do was confront him, if he was still here. She didn't know what would be worse: confronting him face to face, or learning that she had been left here alone. The only thing she knew for certain was that right now, she envied him for forgetting.

She reached for the strip of cloth, but to her surprise found a thin strip of paper as well, intertwined within.

He's still the Doctor, Clara, it read in his uniquely mussed handwriting. The Doctor's, but not the new Doctor. It was the handwriting of her green-eyed, floppy haired Doctor. Tears prickled up from the corners of her eyes, and her chest felt tight.

Instantly, details of her most recent dream slammed into the forefront of her mind. He came into the room at dawn. He stroked her cheek and gently kissed her forehead. And then he wrote a note, and slid it next to his old bow tie. In her dream, she had spoken a few words with him before he left. Now, however, she was becoming more and more sure that it wasn't a dream. It was her Doctor's way of saying goodbye, properly this time.

Anger boiled up within her, anger not directed at him this time, but at herself. The Doctor had known she would react this way the entire time. He knew she would have trouble accepting him after he regenerated. Why? Because she liked to be the boss, and time wasn't letting her. It was the black spot on her ledger, her major flaw. Change was her enemy.

She heard people walking down the hall outside her door. Her heart pounding, she shoved the bow tie and the slip of paper under her covers.

"Good morning, Doctor," she could hear Sari say from just outside the room. "I almost expected you to be here already when I came in an hour earlier. You've rarely left her side on most days."

"I had tasks to accomplish," a familiar Scottish voice replied. "Is she awake now?"

"Yes. Just woke up minutes ago. She asked me where she was, and how long she'd been here, so I answered truthfully."

"Thank you, Novice Sari."

She heard the rustle of cloth, and a body moving closer. Rapidly, Clara blotted the leftover wetness from her eyes, and sat up in bed. He walked in slowly, even cautiously. She didn't blame him. Up until a minute ago, she had no inclination to see him at all.

He had changed his clothes in the past few weeks, something she'd expected. Now that it had happened, however, things were becoming all too real. Gone were the days of bow ties, high water pants, and pocket watch chains. He had combed his grey hair back. His choice of attire was relatively simple, a white shirt layered underneath a cardigan. Beyond that, he wore a deep blue coat, with thin lapels and silky red lining. It was very... different. But the longer she stared at him, the more he looked exactly like the Doctor. She couldn't deny it any longer; this was her friend.

"That's a good choice of clothes," she said quietly, blinking rapidly to try to avoid crying.

"You think so?" he asked, obviously pleased to have her approval.

"Yeah. It suits you," she replied, swallowing hard.

However, her throat was so dry there was nothing for her muscles to move. It was nerves that caused this; she had no idea what kind of conversation they would get into. Itching to move, she carefully swung her legs out from under the covers. These starchy hospital blankets were becoming so warm that she was almost boiling underneath. She glanced back up towards the Doctor. He was staring at her with the weirdest expression on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're still Clara Oswald," he breathed.

Her left brow flexed, unsure what he was trying to get at. "And you're still the Doctor."

"No, it's just that... I thought you were dead."

A warmth grew inside her because of his words. It was surprisingly touching that he had worried about her. "Well, sorry to hand it to you, but I'm not dying anytime soon, mister."

A faint smile crossed his lips, but quickly disappeared. Clara thought for a second that her floppy haired Doctor would have chuckled at that. Then, realizing what her mind was doing, she suppressed those thoughts. She had to move on.

"I've regained my memories," he said next. "Thought you should know."

"How?"

"My time stream," he replied quickly, almost before she had a chance to speak. "It held every day of every life of my past. Aborted timeline, sure, but everything up to my regeneration on Trenzalore was the same."

Clara nodded, attempting to wrap her mind around a question that had plagued her for the last few minutes. "Okay, so if we're talking about aborted timelines, then how can I still exist here?"

Her question was met with silence. The Doctor's eyes were pined onto hers. Perhaps he was silently beckoning her to go on...?

"You found me because my echoes found you," she continued. "How can I have echoes when now, your time stream never existed?"

"Ah, but you see," he explained, pointing a finger at her, "that's where you're wrong. My time stream always existed. Time is never erased, and separate realities can influence others. And one choice, one cry for help-" he looked pointedly at her, apparently in full knowledge as to her actions on Trenzalore- "...is all it takes to change the entire course of time. It's like a bit error in computer data; the rest simply adjusts to compensate."

"Hold on- are you saying I'm a bit error?" Clara asked, gasping in mock offense.

He nodded. "A very large, significant one, yes. And you're the best bit error I've ever had the pleasure of knowing," he added quickly, before she could reach out to playfully smack his arm.

She snorted. "Nice job digging yourself out of your own grave."

"Who said there'll be any digging to do at my grave?" he retorted, with a twinkle in his eyes.

~8~

{A few hours earlier}

The Doctor quietly shut the door to Clara's hospital room, not wanting to wake her up again. He didn't know how she'd gotten hurt, but she needed her rest. And, he wasn't supposed to be here anyways. He had to reach the TARDIS, and quickly pilot himself back to Trenzalore. This wasn't his time anymore. The clock's fingers were inching ever closer to twelve's. He felt regeneration energy brimming inside, waiting below the surface to rearrange all the cells in his body.

He walked down the clinical white hallway, his purpose set at the forefront of his mind. He only realized where he was when he noticed one of the feline nurses plodding past him. This was the best hospital on New Earth, just on the outskirts of New New York City. Something buried deep in his memory prompted him to wonder if he had been here before- as these halls seemed eerily familiar- but if he had, it must have been a long, long time ago. Hundreds of years. He'd spent so much time in Christmas that sometimes it was hard to remember his life before the siege.

An older man with grey hair approached from around the corner, almost colliding headfirst with him. From the right angle, his hair seemed to have a slight curl to it, (though maybe that was because it was short), and his attire was smart and functional: a white-collar shirt underneath a cardigan, and a nice navy blue jacket thrown over it, with only the top button fastened. They kept eye contact for only a second, the Doctor's green eyes locked onto his steely blue ones. Truth be told, the Doctor only paused to notice because of the eyes. They were old, really old. As he thought about this, his hearts dropped.

He quickly made the mental connections, and swallowed heavily. It probably was best he returned to the TARDIS now, and thank her for finding Clara for him so he could say goodbye. His future was catching up with him sooner than he liked, and he had a list of assorted things to complete. With any luck, he would at least reach item twenty on the list before he regenerated, so he could enjoy his last dish of fish custard.

~8~

Mum,

To be honest, I often wish you could be here on this journey with me. I know... if you could respond, you'd tell me to stop moping over you and live a great life, and don't get me wrong, I am... but I miss you. I miss your bedtime stories, and our picture hunts in the clouds, and the way your smile lit up the room.

It's morning now, the twelfth of January. Or, it would be if I were home. Here on New Earth, I'm told; they measure the months and the seasons very differently. You'd love it here. The view from my window is beautiful. Fields of rich green grass stretch as far as the eye can see, and a futuristic city skyline rises above a small lake. However beautiful it is, my muscles are still getting antsy. I only have to spend one more day in this hospital- just for precautions, the Doctor told me- and then I can leave, off to new horizons.

Speaking of the Doctor, he's managed to regain almost all of his memories. It was the remnants of his time stream- the faint whispers of every day he'd ever lived- that triggered it. It's been an adventure for both him and me adjusting to all the changes in his life- new body, new tastes, new fetishes- but considering what we went through, I believe we fared very well. Because, when all is said and done, and I think of Trenzalore, I remember that things could have turned out way worse.

I feel as if I've come to terms with a lot in the past few weeks, even if I can only remember vague fragments of it all, but there's one constant realization that's stuck out to me:

Change happens. I've always had a hard time accepting it, but it's a part of life. If everything stayed the same, nothing new would ever start, and what a boring existence that would be! The trick, I've learned, is accepting this change. Fully accepting the changes in my life might take me a while, but I'm beginning to understand new wisdom now. You can't cling to the past forever.

All you can do is live on... and remember.

Love you always,

Clara Oswald

This is the first time I've finished a multi-chapter story. That's pretty exciting for me... I've never felt so much satisfaction in pressing a single "complete" button before. Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed! :-)