Series 9: What We Deserve
Warnings: dark themes, violence, torture, m/f, f/f & m/f/f relationships, explicit scenes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did…damn you, Moffat!
A/N: Ahhh, I'm so excited about those latest on-set photos! My two babies in the same scene, talking! That was the one thing I wished there'd been more of in Dark Water/Death in Heaven, more Clara/Missy interaction. Now we might find out more about why Missy chose Clara, or even knew of her existence, beyond 'She's perfect, innit?'
Summary: The trio land in their third universe. Complications ensue and the three are separated from the Tardis.
Things in the Tardis were…awkward.
Clara thought she'd known awkward before. The head teacher calling home to tell her parents she'd been caught kissing a girl. Meeting Linda for the first time, an all-too-raw five years after her mother's death. That scarifying moment after her bow-tied boy Doctor had exploded in a haze of gold fire into the man she knew today. The day Danny and the Doctor met each other for the first time. That first phone call after the Moon incident. The night she'd been stuck as a pillow for two inebriated Time Lords.
All of those paled to the atmosphere of sheer, stultifying awkwardness that pervaded the Tardis. She wasn't talking to the Doctor, he wasn't talking to her, and she wasn't talking to Missy. She had an annoying suspicion that Missy knew exactly why she was doing her absolute best to avoid the pair of them.
The truth was…she was terrified. Terrified of what had occurred between her and the Doctor, the revelations hiding beneath the surface that Clara knew she wasn't ready to face, terrified still further by the revelation she'd suffered when she awoke in Missy's arms, in that tent, cocooned in those furs after a bone-shatteringly good orgasm. She wasn't ready to face that either.
So she'd done what she did best. She'd run away, kept both of them at arms' length, unsure and feeling dangerously out of control in this crazy situation she'd found herself in.
How could she do this? How could she…feel so much for the Doctor, her best friend, the one man who knew her best, and yet…how could she also come to feel so much for the psychotic, dangerously unhinged being who had mutilated and murdered so many? How?
Any sane person would have been repulsed by her. She was the shadow to the Doctor's light, the Moriarty to his Sherlock Holmes. She was everything that was opposite to the Doctor. She should have hated her, and stayed hating her, until her dying breath.
An annoying little voice in Clara's head raised its head at that. But, it whispered smugly, you've never felt the opposite of love for that woman, have you? You hated her, but hate isn't the opposite of that emotion. You know what the opposite is, and that's indifference. You've never been indifferent to that woman in your life!
Clara made an obscene mental hand gesture at that voice, as she watched the two Gallifreyans bickering over something from the gantry above them. Her boots swung in the air, and she stifled a sigh. She didn't want to draw their attention her way. Arguing with each other was better than angry, confused sideways glances from the Doctor or knowing, frustrated looks from Missy. She'd blocked out all recollection from that encounter, refused to let herself analyse it any further. Refused to acknowledge the shame at herself for doing so.
She'd always thought she was no coward. This past few weeks were quickly teaching her otherwise, especially when it came to her emotions. Clara knew why, knew it was the uncontrolled side of her emotions she'd always sensed, but never prodded for fear of losing control, knew she wasn't ready to face them yet. Maybe not ever.
The sound of footsteps on the gantry stairs pulled Clara from her introspection. "Everything alright?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice light. The Doctor barely glanced at her as he strode to the Tardis console.
"Fine," he barked, and Clara mentally sighed. She had no idea how to bridge the gap that was quickly widening into a chasm between them. A mere apology wouldn't be enough this time, from either of them.
Her other tormentor, however, had no compulsions about needling her. "Don't worry, dear. Mummy and Daddy are just talking," Missy murmured, reaching out to pat Clara on the head patronisingly. Clara glared at her, but didn't react. She knew Missy just wanted a reaction from her since she'd closed off, of any kind, so she restrained herself to just glaring and staying silent. She could see the frustration in Missy's eyes, so much more open and readable than Clara had ever seen them. She refused to let it get to her. She had a feeling that was exactly what the Time Lady wanted.
They'd been floating through the Void for a week, and Clara guessed they had to be close to their next destination. She idly pondered what they would find, this time. Their first universe had been a bleak, oppressive one that was apparently home to trigger-happy bandits with a penchant for poison darts. Their second had been like stepping back in time to the Bronze Age. Being treated like a goddess had been fun, at first, but Clara had grown bored of it eventually. Added to that, her arguments with both Missy and the Doctor had meant she'd been only too glad to return to the Tardis.
She pondered the possibility of simply staying behind, in the Tardis, when they next materialised in a universe. She discarded it reluctantly, after a moment's thought. The Doctor would see straight through her, and though he'd probably be glad to be rid of her for a few days, Missy would elect to stay behind with her, to 'keep an eye on her', and then the Doctor would stay too, because he still didn't trust Missy alone in the Tardis. It would defeat the purpose.
Clara needed space. Even in the Tardis, with her infinite hallways and rooms, Clara felt the presence of her two Time Lords constantly, like they were in the very air she breathed into her lungs. The telepathic bond she had with Missy constantly flexed within her mind, seeking connection, a connection she'd denied it since she woke up in Missy's arms. It had been a massive mistake, an insult to the memory of the man who'd given his life to save her from the woman's machinations. She shouldn't have been so weak as to give in. Her previous bravado seemed childish and reckless now, and she didn't want to feel the constant longing for Missy's touch, her wild kiss. She didn't want to feel the need for the Doctor's forgiveness and his arms awkwardly holding her to him. She didn't want to feel anymore.
She needed space, to breathe, to think, to process it all and try to find some sense in the madness.
The familiar deep boom reverberated through the Tardis as they materialised, and Clara leant forward from her perch to peer at the view screen. It showed an alleyway, dilapidated buildings stretching up and away, out of sight, and the partially obscured view of a city skyline, blue sky bright and welcoming behind it. It looked positively civilised after the wild, bleak versions of Earth they'd previously visited.
"Right," the Doctor muttered. "It looks like we're in…Chicago, Illinois. And from the look of things, we've not landed in the Dark Ages."
"What have I told you about 'the look of things'? You and your optimism," Missy sighed exasperatedly. Clara had to fight to keep her lips straight. She didn't miss the sidelong glance both Time Lords slid her way, as if awaiting her reaction. They'd be waiting until the next millennium, in that case.
"Well, let's go take a look," Clara said, not looking at either of her companions as she clambered to her feet. She skipped down the steps and towards the Tardis doors, just as the Doctor caught her wrist.
Clara froze at the sensation. She'd noticed, after his regeneration crisis had passed, how long and slender his fingers were in this body. Now they were clenched gently around her wrist, holding her still. Asking, without words, that she wait, just one moment. Asking her to trust him again. With bated breath, Clara looked up at him over her shoulder, wishing she'd put heeled boots on this morning. She hated being shorter than him, it made her feel at a disadvantage.
"Clara," he breathed, and she almost forgot everything at that moment, seeing that ember of warmth in his icy gaze, wishing it was still the flame it had been before their fight. She swallowed hard, sensing the speculative gaze of the other Gallifreyan watching them intently. The Doctor raised her wrist, then retrieved something from his pocket, placing it in her upturned hand. "Here. The nanotech earpiece. I've been working on them since the Boneless. Just in case."
Clara nodded, stowing the tiny earpiece in her pocket. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the Doctor give one to Missy as well, who popped it straight into her ear with an arch glance at the Doctor. Clara turned away, heart hurting at that sight of open affection.
With a deep breath, Clara was the first out the doors, stepping into bright sunlight eagerly. She felt the familiar, warm, mental presence of the Tardis recede, like a parting caress against her hair. She'd really been a great help to Clara since she'd lost Danny. It was as if she understood Clara better than she did herself, sometimes.
But she needed to get away.
She felt the presence of the Doctor and Missy behind her as they strolled. The city was noisy but they'd yet to come across anyone yet. Above them, trains trundled past on elevated tracks, and Clara couldn't help but notice how rundown everything looked. Paint was peeling from brickwork, windows looked cracked and ill-maintained, and above their heads, the skyscrapers had great wires linking them together. It gave Clara the creeps.
"What happened here?" She muttered, mostly to herself. "It looks like a war zone."
"Maybe it was," the Doctor replied. "But it's definitely Chicago. I can even see the Sears Tower over there."
"It's strange," Missy mused, walking alongside him. "Most of the universes I materialised in were either war zones or recovering from war. I always wondered if that was a side-effect of Gallifrey's displacement. Bleeding through the cracks between realities."
"That is not a pleasant thought," the Doctor muttered.
"Then again," Missy continued, brightly, a feral grin on her face. "I did keep materialising on Earth. It's practically humanity's favourite pastime, destroying one another."
Clara felt the dig again, but refused to even look around. They began to encounter people now, ragged looking people in ill-fitting, dirty clothes of different colours. They looked at them with wide, frightened eyes as they rooted in the rubbish bins that littered the streets. Clara smiled at them, but didn't speak. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
As they walked deeper into the city, Clara noticed a pattern in the peoples' clothing. Despite their filthy state, they all wore the same set of colours. Red, yellow, blue, black, grey and what Clara guessed was once white, in varying mixtures but all the same.
Abruptly, Clara felt her arm yanked almost out of its socket, her momentum pulling her into an alcove and against Missy's body as she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle Clara's instinctive yell. The Doctor stood beside them, peering out into the street. Clara wondered what the fuss was about until she heard the rumble of a vehicle go past, gunmetal grey. It distinctly militaristic.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," the Doctor muttered.
"You don't say," Missy hissed, rolling her eyes. Clara shoved her hand away tersely, discomfited by the contact. She felt Missy's swift glance, and a gentle nudge against the walls she'd constructed in her mind, but she resolutely ignored it.
"Come on, it's not like you to let a 'bad feeling' stop you, Doctor," Clara replied, pushing Missy away and slipping back out into the street. She evaded the Doctor's lunge to haul her back, and walked quickly down the street, pushing down her own misgivings about this world they'd landed in.
They eventually came to an open square, where hundreds of people were walking purposefully from building to building, both people and buildings in far better condition than the ones Clara had seen so far. Directly in front of her, she could see the Sears Tower, and remembered that Chicago had been one of the places she'd wanted to see when she planned to travel. Before the Doctor, before all of this.
She still had her Mum's book. It was in the Tardis library.
"Well, this is more like it," she pronounced, shaking off that poignant thought. The crowd in front of her were all well-dressed and clean, dressed in the same colours as the others she'd seen before, but without the dirt. Clara wondered if the others were homeless or something like that.
She stuck a hand in her pocket, and stepped out, smiling at the people she made eye contact with. They all glanced at her, then glanced again, stunned. Clara began to wonder if she had some broccoli stuck in her teeth or something. "Hello," she murmured, as friendly as she could. The freedom she felt, stepping out of the Tardis, had continued to grow and she'd forgotten the eeriness of the empty city blocks they'd just walked. The majority of people were dressed in yellow, red, black, white, blue and grey, but she noticed distinct differences. There were never any mixes of blue and white, or black and grey, or yellow and blue. Like distinct social groups.
Two men in black caught her eye, tattooed and muscular, one sporting a pierced lip, the other with a dyed red blaze in his hair. They carried truncheons at their hips, and Clara suddenly realised they were carrying guns in their hands. Oh dear…
"Clara!" the Doctor's hand came down on her shoulder, hauling her away. "Run!"
Clara ran for her life, dodging through the crowd behind Missy and the Doctor, but more people in black, men and women, converged on their position. They'd not made twenty feet before they were surrounded, guns trained on their heads. Whoever these people were, their hands were steady and Clara recognised the same trained skill she'd seen in UNIT soldiers. They were professionals, whoever they were. Beyond the circle of black, the crowd watched, some with suspicion, some with disbelief, but most with curiosity.
The Doctor stepped forward, hands raised in surrender. "We mean no harm. We have no weapons," he intoned, clearly and confidently. Clara felt Missy draw closer to her, and shuddered. One of the men in black stepped forward, gun raised at the Doctor's face.
"You're to come with us. You are not to resist. If you do, deadly force will be used," he replied, just confidently as the Doctor. He had a tattoo of a vine curling around his neck above the collar of his leather jacket. Clara had no doubt he meant what he said.
She felt Missy take a breath, probably to say something equally as threatening, and before she realised what she was doing, Clara's hand shot out and crushed Missy's in warning. To her surprise, Missy said nothing but she squeezed her hand before letting it go. The Doctor needed no such warnings, even his smart mouth knew when to shut up when faced with a gun and no way out.
"Well then," he quipped, with a grim little smile Clara recognised well. "Take us to your leader."
To be continued…
A/N: Have you guessed which AU our heroes, and villainess, are in yet? This is set before the books and movies, about 40 years before, so there'll be entirely new OCs and maybe one or two familiar faces…