Thank you all for being so patient. The past few weeks have been incredibly busy and there's been a lot happenint, so I apologize for this chapter coming so late. Also, thank you to DrLevoda for the prompt! Everyone else is welcome to give me prompts as well. Anyway, please enjoy!
11: Reality
"Clara, how do you delete a picture online?"
The Doctor, carrying some kind of alien version of a tablet, rushed out of the newly landed TARDIS and into Clara's tiny lounge, stumbling over the coffee table he did so. He nearly grumbled a few choice words at the inanimate object, but when Clara's head turned sharply towards him, eyes wide and leaky, his hearts sank. Something was wrong. Clara was hurting. The Doctor's owlish gaze peered back at her for a moment, questioning her tear-stained cheeks, before the voice from the newscaster on the telly set in.
Another alleged terror attack…another corrupt government...yet more injustice...more pain...more suffering.
The Doctor shut the TARDIS door silently behind him and went to the sofa, sitting on the arm, staring at the telly with a grim look. Clara sniffed and wiped at her face. "I don't usually watch the news anymore. It's never anything good. It's …"
"Reality."
The Doctor was still stony-faced, watching the violent newsclips, fiddling with the alien tech in his hands incessantly. Clara watched him for a moment before setting her own hand on top of his shaky fingers. They met eyes for a second before the Doctor took her hand, letting the device drop to the floor. Clara smiled thankfully at him and suddenly flipped off the telly.
"Can we go somewhere?"
It took the Doctor a moment to catch up, still lost in the horrors he had just witnessed through the screen. "Of course. What kind of somewhere?"
"I...I don't know. Let's just fly."
The Doctor led her gently by the hand into the old time machine, letting go of her fingers as he went to the opposite side of the Console, making himself busy with the controls. Clara simply stayed by the door, hugging herself as she looked up at the ceiling.
She hadn't realized it, or at least, she hadn't thought about it in a while, but the TARDIS really had become a second home to her. The lights dimmed and the ship purred as she entered, like a friendly housecat. She knew every nook and cranny of the Console Room, albeit not the whole ship. She knew where the brake was, and could guess at what some of the Gallifreyan symbols meant. She was used to the ever-changing color scheme, blue when the TARDIS was on edge, yellow when she was more relaxed. She could locate the medical kits and fire extinguishers in mere seconds, owing to all of the accidents and emergencies the Doctor and her had gotten themselves into. A few of them she could even laugh about.
Her eyes drifted down to the man fiddling with numerous buttons and levers on the Console, a partner in a symbiotic dance. He and the TARDIS were mentally linked, and it showed whenever he was showing off his flying ability, turning one dial before gliding to a couple levers and pulling them down with a proud smirk.
Clara watched his coat trail behind him, red velvet tails seeming to float in the air as he spun and jumped around, never staying still for a moment. Lately, his hair had been growing faster madder than ever, curling about on his head more and more as if in correlation with how many risks its owner had been taking lately. But today, he had apparently had a haircut. He looked a bit more refined, though for the Doctor, she knew, that was never going to last long. The next adventure would surely singe a sleeve or add just a few more glints of chaos and wonder into his eyes.
Maybe it wasn't the TARDIS that had become home, Clara thought to herself. The most important bits, after all, were the ones linked with this mad man. His favorite chair; the smell of books and chalk; the desk and chair beneath the deck where the Doctor could sometimes be found tinkering with electronics, making sparks fly, or writing out complicated mathematical formulas that would make Einstein's head spin. Those were the elements of the TARDIS that Clara cherished the most. Those were the things that made the TARDIS, and travelling in general, home.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Clara snapped out of her deep thoughts, blinking confusedly at the Doctor, who stood leaning with both hands on the railings by the door where she still stood. Slowly, she responded. "It's nothing you can fix. It's not alien. We're not being invaded. It's just...humans being humans."
The Doctor bit his lip, staring off at the wall. "The worst threat to humanity there is: yourselves."
Clara suddenly felt another wave of sadness, or hopelessness, or whatever it was come over her. She cried out quietly before stifling it into her palms, held over her face and wiping at her eyes again. The Doctor made to reach for her, but made no contact. Clara quickly got herself under control.
"Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me today. Everyone is just on edge lately. They're all saying World War three is about to go down. Everyone is scared. The world is going mad."
The Doctor stayed silent for a minute, giving Clara time to breath and think. Then, slowly, he walked past her and put his hand on the doorknob.
"I have something to show you?"
"I'm not really in the mood for adventuring right now, Doctor."
"We don't have to go anywhere. We'll just sit and talk, is that alright?"
Clara nodded and watched him pull open the doors. The space filled instantly with dazzling lights of purple, blue, and red. In the distance, galaxies collided and whirled together. Stars shone brighter than Clara had ever seen. Silent asteroids glided through the vacuum of space, following gravitational patterns too enormous and complicated to understand.
The Doctor dashed back into the ship, going through one of the TARDIS' intricate corridors for something. The human stayed, kneeling to the floor as her eyes watched the scene before her, mesmerized but still deeply disturbed.
Suddenly, a teacup was hovering in front of Clara's face, held by the bony, pale hand of the Doctor. She took his offering with a small smile as he sat beside her, letting his legs dangle out the doorway.
The tea tasted amazing, and warmed her throat and stomach, but Clara's chest still ached, head still pounding with a million thoughts and worries. The Doctor noticed this, watching her as he sipped his own tea. When he turned to look out at the spectacle before them again, Clara spoke.
"It's beautiful, but I still can't get my mind off of everything. It's all too big. It's like a weight, pushing everyone down, and there's nobody to lift it. You...you think there's someone out there, not you, I mean, but someone or some group or something that can stop bad things from happening. That can prevent chaos and corruption and all that. But then...then you find out you're on your own. There's no one else."
Clara and the Doctor met eyes. "Do you know what I mean?"
The Doctor smiled sadly, blinking slowly. "Of course. It's exactly how I felt the day...I know we changed the past, but I still remember pushing the button. I remember, before that day, thinking that there must be someone out there, looking out for us. The universe...something had to be writing the future. And we were Timelords! We were supposed to know everything; see everything. But no one saw that coming. No one saw the Time War. No one saw Gallifrey falling. Nothing made sense after that. The world seemed chaotic and cruel; too big and too vast to comprehend. Nobody knew what would happen or what could happen. Not unlike your time."
Clara looked at her tea, swirling in slow circles in its cup. She hadn't even thought about him; about all the things he had lived through...But what he said made her feel even worse. She set her teacup down on the floor, as it was shaking too much in her fingers. The galaxies colliding in front of her eyes scared her now. The universe really was too big to understand.
"Hold onto something."
"What?"
Clara nearly toppled over before grabbing onto both the Doctor's sleeve and the TARDIS' door frame as she ship veered off away from the galaxies and stars. She closed her eyes as they flew quickly through space, individual stars' lights turning into bright, constant lines; space folding and whirling. She thought she would be sick. But then, finally, they landed.
In front of them, now, was a shopping centre. They were on a balcony, looking down into the food court, where numerous chairs and tables, all filled with various groups of people, sat circling an enormous fountain.
It was loud here; much louder than the silent vacuum of space. Children laughing and babbled; teenagers joked; adults in suits conversed about the business of the day. Clara watched a man lift a young boy up onto the edge of the fountain, smiling as the young one tossed in a coin. Next, her eye caught a few teenagers, all dressed in black with grunge makeup and punk hair, all run to assist an old woman who had stumbled on a step.
Clara was smiling inadvertently as she watched the scenes play out before her. It was all so lively; so human. There was so much care and hope and love in that room. A simple food court, and it seemed more amazing and more beautiful than galaxies colliding and stars bursting with energy.
The Doctor beside her shifted so that his hands could hold onto the bottom of the doorframe.
"I took Gallifrey's fate into my own hands. I thought I was the only one who cared; the only one brave enough to do anything about the chaos and the bloodshed. I was young...foolish. I thought I had to do everything on my own."
He looked at her with earnestness and wonder. "You lot remind me so much of them. Not just because of how you look, obviously. You're all so sure the world will end soon. You count down the minutes til doomsday. You watch the news and think you lose all hope. But you still hold the door for people. You still help each other cross the street, or carry in the shopping. Hope exists as long as any one of you can still be kind; can still show compassion and care."
The Doctor got to his feet suddenly, and then held out a hand for Clara, which she took with a smile and wide, shining eyes.
"Go home; rest up; turn off the telly for a while. Play some records; read a book; whatever it is you do nowadays. And then get back to reality when you're ready. Survival in times like these is a marathon. You'll never make it if you wear yourself out in the first lap."
Clara nodded at him. "Thank you, Doctor."
He returned her thanks with a smirk, and pushed the coordinates for Clara's flat into the Console. As the ship landed, Clara went to open the door, but froze and turned around.
"Doctor?"
"Yeah?"
He was still beside the Console, hands fiddling with the controls.
"Do we make it through? Humanity, I mean. Is there going to be another World War? Are we going to survive?"
The Doctor cocked his head to the side. "That depends."
"What does it depend on?"
"Right now, tims is in flux. Decisions are being made right now across the Earth that will decide humanity's future. Your survival depends on everyday people being extraordinary. The courage and the solidarity of the masses is the most important asset you have. You just have to find it and use it."
They shared one last understanding look before Clara exited the TARDIS and found herself back beside her sofa, picking up the alien tablet the Doctor had left earlier. She rolled her eyes and called out his name, but the TARDIS was already fading out of sight. Shaking her head, Clara dropped bonelessly onto the sofa and held up the tablet, eyeing it curiously. Somehow she located the power switch and turned it on, instantly losing herself in a toothy grin.
A picture on the page she was on, taken near the Tower of London judging by the background, showed a young girl posed in front of the Doctor, presumably taking a selfie. His face, though, showed that he knew nothing of what was going on and, instead, looked rather frightened. His eyes were wide, frown set. Clara couldn't help herself from sinking into the sofa and chuckling. After all, the Doctor had said she needed to take a break from reality for a little while. This certainly was a surreal enough experience for her.