6: Cruelty

They had been back in the TARDIS for a while,

now, but the Doctor's words still echoed in Clara's ears.

"You just want cruelty to beget cruelty. You're not superior to people who were cruel to you. You're just a whole bunch of new cruel people."

Clara shuddered as she remembered the sound of the Doctor's voice cracking; the sight of his eyes lighting up with memories of his past.

"I fought in a bigger war than you will ever know! I did worse things than you could ever imagine and when I close my eyes-"

Clara turned to the floor, taking in a deep breath, chest still aching from it all. Her poor Doctor. What on earth had he been through? What did he never tell even her about? What kinds of horrors have those two hearts been carrying all this time?

She looked up and he was exactly where he'd been since he'd flown them to a point just out of Earth's atmosphere: sitting in the threshold of the door, legs hanging limply over the edge of the TARDIS, staring out at the planet below him. Clara took a step closer to him as he sighed deeply, his shoulders shaking as they shrugged back down.

Softly, Clara asked, "Are you okay?"

The Doctor turned halfway to face her, a smile lifting the edges of his lips just a little. She smiled encouragingly back, even if he couldn't see her. Slowly, she eased herself beside him and looked out.

"It's beautiful."

The Doctor turned fully to her now, watching her glowing eyes and the small parting of her lips as she watched her planet revolving ever so slowly below them. He couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling, so he said nothing. Instead, he merely stared at her until she looked back at him.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment and Clara was taken suddenly back into the Black Archives.

"No one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will ever have to feel this pain."

She didn't know her eyes had filled with tears until she blinked and his face transformed into an impressionist painting. Quickly, she turned back towards the Earth and wiped her eyes nonchalantly with her sleeve. The Doctor took a deep breath and followed her gaze to the blue dot below.

"You're right."

Clara halted in her eye-wiping, wrist still hovering near her face. "What?"

"The Earth is beautiful."

Clara dropped her hand to her lap, chuckling softly. "That means a lot, coming from you today."

The Doctor blinked a few too many times and Clara's face dropped. "I'm sorry."

He turned to her again, and then instantly back out the door, shifting how he was seated awkwardly. "No, no, it's fine. Today was…"

"Tough."

"Yes...that it was."

He was contemplative. Contemplative and sounding more thoughtful than usual, which usually meant he was deeply concentrated and deeply lost in the intricate network that was his brain. Clara watched him for a moment, wondering how to call him back. Whenever this happened, he could wander in his mind for days, hardly speaking, eyes distant. Luckily she had only witnessed him in this kind of mood a few times. Unluckily, that meant she didn't really know how best to deal with it. Anyway, she tried her best.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

At first he seemed not to hear her, staring out at the stars, but then he turned his face to her with a strange mixture of nervousness and gratitude. "Talk?"

"Only if you want to. What I mean is...I'm here if you need to talk. About anything."

He smiled as he turned back to the planet. "I'm not usually the talking sort."

She grinned as she looked at her hands in her lap. "I suppose not."

For a moment, they simply sat, watching the Earth again, listening to the soft purr of the TARDIS. Then, suddenly, the Doctor spoke again. "I'm tired of fighting."

Clara picked her head up. The Doctor was still staring at the planet below, but she knew his eyes were looking somewhere else entirely. There were flames burning on the edges of his irises; like the last touches of a dying ember. A memory of what had once been a raging fire.

"No matter where I go, they always want to fight. And it's never over anything important. It's never really about love or freedom or any other big words they make up to get recruits. Usually it's pride, or greed, or, most of the time, a misunderstanding."

His eyes shifted back and forth as his mind raced around, trying to understand itself. "All over the universe people fighting; burning houses; dropping bombs. And then it all ends and one side ends up with more and one with less. And then a few years later the ones with less just rise up again and start another war. And the cycle continues. And it's always the same."

Clara looked down and saw the Doctor's hands for the first time, holding onto the bottom frame of the TARDIS threshold with a white-knuckle grip. Softly, and ever so slowly, she placed her hand on top of his. She expected him to jump at the sudden touch, but surprisingly he simply closed his eyes and let her thumb massage his knuckles. Then, to Clara's shock and pleasure, he leaned his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

Clara kept holding the Doctor's hand with her left, but with her right she stroked the Doctor's hair, combing it back comfortingly. She leaned her head against his curls and he didn't protest, so there they sat for a few minutes, breathing in the quiet, tender moment.

The Doctor's voice entered the space five minutes later, softer and more broken than it had been before.

"I can't keep doing this, Clara; fighting in everyone else's wars. Helping the 'good guys' win, whatever that means. Why can't I just lose? Why can't I just give up?"

Clara lifted her head up and turned sharply to the Doctor, who was still resting on her shoulder. She lowered her hand from the Doctor's hair and brought it to his chin, which she slowly turned up to face herself.

"Hey, Doctor, look at me."

His watery blue eyes stabbed her heart. He seemed so young in that moment; so fragile and broken. Clara cursed Bonnie for a second, but knew she wasn't really to blame for most of the Doctor's pain.

"Today was a hard day. And you're right; there are a lot of hard days. But we can't give up. Never cruel or cowardly, remember?"

"I made that promise a long time ago. I didn't known then-"

"Doctor…" Clara closed her eyes. "Please, just listen for a minute."

He shut his mouth and lowered his gaze.

"You're allowed to be sad. And you're allowed to be angry. Everyone is. But don't you dare give up. Don't you ever let it change you. You're the Doctor. You chose that name for a reason. You help people. And people...people can be infuriating. They're cross and idiotic messes who don't know right from wrong. But that's why they need you. You make people better. You bring out the best of humanity. You are never given the credit you deserve, and I am sorry that you have lived through so much pain and hatred, but by God I am not going to let this make you callous or cruel. You can relax for a day or two; you've earned it. But you are not going to sit in here and sulk about the worst of the universe when there is so much to see and so much to do out there. At some point, you are going to have to get up, off your arse, and show me the stars again; and yes, you are going to have to win a few more fights for the good guys because you are the Doctor and that is what you do."

The Doctor sat with a stunned expression on his face for many moments, mouth hanging open. Clara's eyes danced around his face. Had she gone too far? Had she given her mouth too much freedom? Should she have been kinder; gentler?

"Clara."

She practically held her breath for a second before he lunged at her, pulling her into a big hug, digging his face into her shoulder. "My impossible girl, you are absolutely right."

She returned the hug, feeling a few weights in her chest lift. When the Doctor finally pulled away, he jumped to his feet and went instantly to the Console. "Which stars did you want to see?"

Clara slowly got to her own feet, adjusting her wrinkled shirt. "Is a hug all you needed, then?"

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows at her. "That wasn't a hug."

"So you weren't just trying to hide your face?"

"Of course not. I think our relationship is beyond that by this point, Clara."

Clara leaned her arms on the Console, looking through the Time Rotor to the Doctor on the opposite side, fiddling with the controls. "What was it, then?"

The Doctor peered around the central column with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "That, Miss Oswald, was an embrace."