Chapter 3: Remember Me

Life on the run wasn't anything like what Clara had expected. She hadn't known what to expect, really. All she had to reference was the action movies she watched with friends growing up, but reality wasn't anything like that. Instead of warehouses and abandoned tunnels, Clara had a nondescript looking house at the end of a suburban street. Instead of fancy tech to cover her fingerprints and disrupt facial recognition software, she lived in a small village in a remote area and never went to any of the larger surrounding cities.

She did live by a different name though, and that was weird. As long as she was "under cover", so to speak, she went by the name Margaret Smith. Margaret for her mother, of course, and Smith because she had insisted on keeping her married surname. Jack had tried to argue with her, but she'd put her foot down on that point. If the Silence had the power to take away everything else, they weren't going to fully take away her name. Besides, Smith stood out far less than Oswald would.

Clara—Margaret, she had to remind herself—sipped her tea as she looked out into her garden. She pulled in a breath, and glanced down at her growing belly when she felt a kick. She chuckled. "What was that for?" She rubbed a circle around the spot she'd felt the movement. "Are you missing your daddy today, too? I know I am."

She let out a soft sigh. It had been six months since she had needed to go into hiding, and not a day had gone by that she hadn't thought of him. Even thinking of him now sent a pang of longing and sadness through her. She so wished he could have been there when she learned that she was pregnant. That he could share in all the planning and doctor appointments and worries about being a good mum.

Clara sat back and closed her eyes. Oh, how she had cried that first month after going into hiding. Poor Jack had done his best to help her settle, and Gwen had really been a strong support during those awful days when morning sickness (or, rather, any time of day it pleased sickness, thank-you-very-much) had caught up with her.

She felt warmth and affection when she recalled one particular day when Gwen had been stuck holding her hair back while she emptied whatever was in her body into what they had both dubbed "the sick bucket".

"I know it doesn't feel like it now, but this won't last forever," the Welsh woman said softly as she rubbed circles on Clara's back with her free hand. "When I was pregnant with my baby girl, there were times when I thought I would never be able to go through a day without being sick at least once, but it stopped eventually."

"You're a mother?" Clara asked.

Gwen nodded and handed her a glass of water before taking out her phone and showing Clara a picture of a sweet-looking girl who must have been about five. "Yeah. When I'm on assignment, she and her dad—my husband, Rhys—spend some quality time with my in-laws."

Clara felt guilt rush in at the thought of Gwen missing out on time with her family. "Oh no, I hope you won't be separated long on my account."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Gwen said as she patted Clara's arm. "We make do. I do get periods of leave off when another agent takes my place so I can go visit with them."

"Good," Clara said. She hesitated before asking her next question. "Um, if you don't mind me asking…were you scared? When you learned you were going to have her."

Her guard and friend laughed. "Oh, yes, scared shitless I was." She chuckled a bit more to herself. "Thankfully I had Rhys to be scared with me." She shot Clara a sympathetic look. "I'm sure you probably feel a hundred times more scared than I did, being without your partner."

Clara nodded. "At least that."

Gwen took her hand then. "Well, I don't want you thinking you're alone in this, Clara. You have Jack, and you have me. Anything you need, we're here."

Clara managed to smile as Gwen squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Gwen."

She had to admit that the idea of having children had not been something she'd thought much of before now. Her own childhood had been a nightmare—at least towards the end—and there was a part of her that feared that she was doomed to repeat the cycles that had played out between herself and her own father. That she would somehow recreate the lack of trust and cycles of emotional manipulation which Dave Oswald had impressed upon her. She knew that she also had her mother's influence to fall back on, of course, and Ellie (or Margaret, rather) had done her best to give Clara the best life. She too, however, had not told her the full truth of her past. A past that had caught up to her. Clara could only wonder what might have been if her parents had at least been a little more honest with her.

She let out another sigh—this one heavier than the first. She knew that Dave and Ellie had done the best that they could as her parents. She was wise enough to see that now, but she still couldn't help but feel a certain amount of bitterness for how they had handled explaining—or not explaining, really—the danger that they faced after defecting from the Silence. She supposed she couldn't blame them for keeping the truth from her when she was very young, but she had to wonder how her father had seen any logic in keeping it from her after her mother had died. Especially given the lies he had spun afterwards.

Clara felt her jaw clench as she remembered how he had tried to worm his way back into her life after she had gone into hiding. First with a request through Jack to see her, and then with incessant phone calls to Gwen after she had refused him a visit.

She finally answered one day after he had blown up Gwen's phone with messages one too many times.

"What do you want, Dave?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Clara?" her dad's voice sounded surprised at her use of his first name. "Is that you?"

She let out an annoyed huff. "Yes, it's me. Now, just tell me what you want so you can stop overwhelming my handler with messages."

Dave went quiet for a moment. "I just want the chance to talk with you, Clara. I heard about…about the pregnancy. I just want to know how you're feeling."

She stepped away from Gwen then to go into the kitchen. "I'm fine. Gwen and Jack are taking good care of me. Is that all?"

"Clara, I—" her father cut himself off, and took in a deep breath. "I'm so sorry. Martha told us what she said to you. Clara, you must understand, I had no good choices at the time. I…if I could go back, I would—I—"

"But you can't," she said before he could finish. In truth, there was nothing he could say to finish that sentence that would ease the pain she felt over his decisions surrounding her welfare immediately after her mother's death. Or his decisions about her wellbeing in the years that followed. "There's nothing you can say or do that will make this better, and you can't change it, so there's nothing more for us to say to one another."

"Clara—"

"No, Dave. Listen to me carefully, because this is the last time you and I will ever speak. You lied to me. You gaslit me at every possible turn and put me in danger because it was emotionally easier for you to do that than to be honest with me. You left me in the hands of Linda, even after I reached out to you to tell you about how abusive she was. You abandoned me in every moment when I needed you, and you have never once tried to apologize. You may have been able to do these things to me in the past, but I have my own family to think about now, and I can't spare your feelings if it means protecting them. So." She paused to take in a deep breath. "This is goodbye."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long time, until she heard him take in a breath of his own. "Then I guess this is it. Goodbye, Clara."

There was, admittedly, a part of Clara that still felt bitter that he had given up so easily. If anything, though, that was just one more nail in the coffin that was her relationship with her biological father.

Beyond her relationships with her parents, though, Clara had other reasons to be worried about becoming a parent. She did worry about how her history with mental health issues would factor into the equation. Not that she would be incapable of being a parent—no—at this stage in her life, Clara was more than certain that she was quite capable of anything she set her mind to, mental health diagnosis be damned. No, she was more concerned about the possibility of passing on genetics that would predispose her child to the same episodes that she herself had experienced. She knew that it was a possibility, her doctors had told her so. And yet, despite their immediate reassurances that the possibility was only slight, Clara couldn't help but worry.

Her focus came back to the present at the sound of a car engine, and she felt her eyebrows raise up as a familiar vehicle parked in her driveway. Jack was early. It was customary for him to check in with her at least once every other week to give her updates on both Torchwood's progress in tracking down the Silence and how Matt and the rest of her family back in her normal life were doing. Normally he didn't reach her secluded home until well into the afternoon, but it wasn't even ten in the morning yet.

"Why do you think he's here so early, huh?" she asked the young life growing inside of her as she hauled herself to her feet to answer the door.

She didn't like the look on his face when she pulled the door open to greet him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jack brushed past her into the house. "Let's sit down first."

"Jack." Her tone held all the worry and annoyance that she felt over his ignoring her question. Since she'd been in custody, he'd had a bad habit of treating her with kid gloves when it came to delivering unhappy news. "Just tell me. Is it Matt? Did they get to him?" Her eyes widened as she joined him on the couch. "Oh god, did they figure out that Jenny spared me?"

"No, no, nothing like that—as far as we can tell, everyone still believes that you died." Jack was quick to take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "Jenny was very thorough in crafting her lie to Simeon. It's likely that she even believes it herself. There's no evidence that he thinks you escaped."

Clara let out a slow, relieved breath, but then stiffened. "But something has happened, yeah? Or you wouldn't be here. What is it?"

Jack's blue eyes stayed firmly on hers. "First, I need to say that everything is okay. Matt had an accident, but he's going to be fine. He's in the hospital getting medical attention right now."

She felt anxiety make her chest tighten, and she struggled to take in a breath. "What do you mean he's in hospital? What happened?"

"He—uh. He's been having a really hard time handling…what happened. Or, what he thinks happened."

Her supposed death. Jack didn't need to say it. She knew from his regular updates that Matt was taking her loss particularly hard. Enough that Clara had argued more than once that, somehow, he should be told that she was alive. She had yet to win that particular argument with anyone on the team assigned to guard her.

"Last night, Jenny found him at the base of his stairs. The flat was a mess…it seems like something set him off, and he trashed the place—and somehow fell down the stairs in the process." Jack leaned back and let out a weary breath. "He hit his head pretty bad, and he's currently unconscious."

Clara began hauling herself to her feet. "I need to see him."

"Clara, no—"

"Don't you dare, Jack Harkness." She turned to look down and give him a glare. "Don't you dare try to keep me from him. You said he's unconscious, yeah? I'll just pop into his room before he wakes up and leave before he comes to."

"Clara, there are so many reasons why that is a very, very bad idea."

"Is anyone else there with him?" she asked as she began the task of pulling on her coat and shoes.

"Just Jenny right now. Everyone else has been visiting, but the doctor in charge of his care told them it could be a while before he fully regains consciousness."

She nodded. "Well, fine, you can occupy Jenny easily enough. Besides, if she sees me, she won't tell anyone. Why save me, only to tell Simeon I survived?" She turned as briskly as she could manage without a steady center of gravity and began marching out the door with her keys in hand. "Well?" she asked as she turned back towards him and arched an eyebrow. "Are you coming?"

Jack paused but started toward her with a sound of frustration. "You're impossible, you know that?"

She chuckled as she let him help her into his car. "I may have heard that once or twice."

Jack had been right—this was a very bad idea.

Clara knew that she was a bit impulsive and headstrong, and this dangerous venture back into the life she'd left behind only proved that point. She hadn't thought about the potential consequences when she'd demanded that Jack take her here, but she'd had the whole car ride to think about them.

Her hand had naturally come to rest protectively around her middle. If she was caught by anyone who had even the smallest of connections to Simeon during this excursion, she was not only risking herself, but her unborn child as well. Remembering that her life was not entirely her own anymore was going to take some getting used to.

"Ready?" Jack asked as he parked the car on the lowest level of the parking garage.

"They know we're coming?" she asked for the tenth time.

He nodded. "Gwen already phoned ahead and got two of our operatives to get Matt's medical team briefed about the situation. Don't worry—this is a hospital that Torchwood owns so everyone on his team works for us."

"Okay," she said, and turned towards the car door. "Let's go."

She was unsurprised to see Gwen already waiting by the lift attached to the parking garage. Her friend and most trusted security guard gave her a half smile. "You realize that this is a very bad idea, you being here?"

Clara nodded. "So I've been told. But here we are, so we might as well see it through."

The three of them were quiet as the lift took them upwards toward their destination.

"Once you're inside, you won't have long," Jack said as they neared their desired floor. "Maybe five minutes at most. I wish I could give you more, but we just can't risk it."

Clara swallowed down the new wave of anxiety that crashed over her and nodded to show she understood. "Got it."

The lift doors opened with a ding then, and Jack led the way. "Follow me," he said as he easily navigated the maze of hallways until he found the ward he was looking for.

Clara felt that anxiety rise from the pit of her stomach once again the closer that they got to Matt. She couldn't help but have some hope that he would be awake—that he could see her. It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn't stop herself from daydreaming about the reunion they should be having.

He would have questions for her, of course, but none of them would matter as they embraced after such a long separation. He would give her one of those fierce—but tender—kisses, and she would provide all of the apologies and explanations that she had been practicing during the long months she'd been secluded. Their tears would be happy ones as they finally enjoyed the closeness they had been craving for so long, and then he could join her in hiding, and they would never have to be parted again. He would see that he was going to be a father, and he could rejoice with her as they prepared to tackle raising a child together—as they should be.

But Clara was a realist, and she knew none of that would really happen.

"Let me be brave, let me be brave," she muttered under her breath as she waited down the hall for Jack's signal.

He looked back toward her and Gwen from the nurse's station and gave them a nod.

"I'll be down this way keeping watch," Gwen said. "Remember, five minutes, and then we have to leave."

Clara nodded, and hurried down the hallway until she was standing with Jack in front of Matt's door. Jack inclined his head towards it. "Go on in. Matt's doctor is keeping Jenny occupied."

She swallowed and reached out to squeeze Jack's hand. "Thank you for this." She turned and wasted no more time in entering Matt's room.

She paused as soon as the door closed behind her, and felt her breath catch in her throat. There he was—the man she had been desperately trying to hold on to in her memory. Seeing him now, even though he had bruises along his arms and an IV in one hand, seemed to bring warmth back into her fingertips and cheeks.

She blinked back sudden tears, and quickly sank down into a chair that was already near his bedside. She took the hand that didn't have an IV, and let out a small, bitter laugh. "Hi Matt. I like to think there's a part of you that can hear me. I hope there is." Her eyes drank in every detail of his face, and she frowned at what she saw there. Her husband had clearly not been taking good care of himself—she could tell by the dark circles that were under his eyes and the length of his facial hair.

She sniffed as sudden tears pooled in her eyes. "I love you," she all but whispered. The words still seemed to echo in the quiet of the room. "I wish they would tell you where I was. I wish they...I, hadn't left you alone in this. I wish you weren't grieving the loss of me when I could be right here." She squeezed his hand then, and inwardly cursed when her tears began to fall without permission.

She leaned in close to him then—close enough to whisper in his ear. "Now you listen to me, Doctor. You need to wake up. You're going to be a father soon, and there's no way in hell that I'm accepting the idea that you aren't going to meet her." She felt a smile tug on her lips then. "Oh yeah, Chin Boy, she's a girl. And a restless one too. I blame you for that."

She felt a kick in response and let out a low chuckle. "I think she agrees with me." She reached up to swipe away the leftover tears before leaning back towards him. "Matt, come back to us. Wake up," she couldn't keep the edge of desperation out of her tone. In the car ride over, Jack had told her that Matt's medical team was confident that he would make a full recovery, but she couldn't help but feel a certain amount of fear seeing him like this.

She looked up when she heard a knock. Jack gave her an apologetic look. "Time to go."

She nodded and turned back to give Matt's cheek a kiss. "I'm still out there, I just need you to hold on for a little while, okay? And that starts with you waking up. So, wake up Matt Smith. You clever boy. And remember me."

Clara forced herself to stand up then and drop his hand despite every instinct she had that was screaming at her to refuse to leave his side. She pulled in a deep breath as she walked past Jack back into the too bright hallway, and followed him back towards Gwen and the lift that would take them back down into the relative safety of the parking garage. Somewhere they were less likely to be caught.

If she survived this separation, she knew it would be the hardest thing she'd ever do.