Hey guys! So, luckily for you, I was able to update one last time before going on vacation. Now you don't have to live with that cliffhanger for three whole weeks. I was a bit nervous about the last chapter... I'm not at all good with science and I have no idea if electricity and hydrogen are enough to start a fire (if someone does know, please enlighten me) so I just sort of made up something. Oh well.
Anyway, thanks all of you for reading and reviewing. You inspire me:) This chapter is a bit of a shorter one and I'm not sure I like it very much. I think I sort of ended it abruptly. Tell me what you think, and when I come back from vacation, I might consider rewriting it according to what you guys think should happen. Also, leave me some prompts if you want:)
Enjoy the end of this tale.
The Doctor stood outside Clara's bedroom door and rapped on it with his knuckles. "Can I come in?"
"No," Clara replied, her voice muffled by the wall between them. He could tell that she had recently been crying.
Experimentally placing two fingers on the door handle and applying some pressure, the Doctor discovered that the door wasn't locked.
Completely disregarding her 'No', the Doctor opened the door and slipped inside, taking care to close it as quietly as possible.
The TARDIS had given Clara a childish sort of bedroom. Stuffed animals and books lined the walls, and the colors of the bedspread and walls were vivid and warm. Perhaps the TARDIS had been guided by part of Clara's personality when she had been creating the room.
"I said no." Clara's voice was harsh. She did not deign to look at him.
"I don't care what you said." The Doctor sat on the bed next to her and scrutinized her face. Her eyes were red, but she was no longer crying. He could tell that she was upset - she hadn't even bothered to change her clothes.
Clara was the first to break the silence. "So I guess I was right. An alien did destroy the Hindenburg."
"But it was me," the Doctor finished bitterly. "I know what you're thinking."
Clara turned to face him, her eyes watering. "Why, Doctor? Why did you do it?" Her hands were trembling uncontrollably.
"Because I had to," he told her gently, placing his hand over hers. "Because you couldn't, and I was the only one who could."
Clara stared at him for a few seconds and then slapped him across the face, her eyes steely. "Don't you ever do it again. Not ever again, do you hear me?" Her voice was trembling.
The Doctor winced. "That hurt."
"I wanted it to," Clara seethed, rage flickering in her eyes. "I wish we hadn't come here!"
"If we hadn't, Earth would have been lost forever, and you know it, Clara. You know it."
Clara shook her head, slowly at first, and then faster. A choked sob escaped her, and she buried her head in the Doctor's coat.
The Doctor cringed at the close contact but didn't want to risk another slap by moving away. He awkwardly placed a hand on Clara's back, his fingers jarred by the tremors running through her petite body.
"I checked my phone," she murmured in a small, soft voice, pulling away from him. "Everyone died. Everyone. Some people were supposed to survive. But no one did."
"I rewrote history," the Doctor explained. "I had to."
"You didn't have to do anything. There's always a choice!"
"Not when you're a Time Lord." The Doctor heaved a deep breath.
Clara was silent for several seconds. Finally she raised her head to the Doctor's ear. "I just want my best friend back," she murmured. "The man who shows me the stars. Not the man who murders innocent people."
"That man is always with you."
Clara sighed shudderingly. "Sometimes I can't tell."
The sentiment pained the Doctor, and he searched desperately for something to say that would alleviate his guilt. "Saving Earth was your idea, Clara, and I did what I had to do to make it happen."
"I know," Clara whispered miserably. "But I just don't want to admit it to myself."
He could tell that she was hurting; even blaming herself for what had happened to the Hindenburg. He placed a tentative hand on her head. "Clara, don't blame yourself. You're kind and gentle and - and good. You're all things I could never be. You're Clara Oswald. You're fragile. You're pudding-brained. And I'd do what I did again in a heartbeat just to save you."
And then, for the first time in the history of their relationship, he hugged first.
The Doctor wrapped his arm around Clara's back and pulled her close. She curled into a ball and rested her head on his shoulder.
They sat in silence for what felt like an age (at least, it felt like an age to the Doctor, who was quite regretting his decision to hug Clara). Finally Clara pulled away and wiped the last remnants of moisture from her eyes. "Go on, Doctor," she told him gently but firmly. "I need some time. To think. To change out of these bloody clothes."
A smile tugged at the corners of the Doctor's lips. That sounded more like his Clara. "Yes, Your Majesty." He rose from the bed and crossed over to the door. "Come find me when you're ready."
Her eyes were hopeful, yet fractured. It would take some time for her to recover.
But she was Clara Oswald, and recover she would. She had seen impossible things, been to impossible places. And she knew that there was always a light in the darkness, if you knew where to look.
"I will," she answered determinedly.
Ugh. I can't believe I wrote that. It's terrible! What do you think? Was that a satisfying end? Or not?
See you in three weeks!