DAY 133
Rewritten June 2024
977: Another Girl Another Planet XIV
Ravenwood
Clara always knew when Jenny was at the door. After being a vampire for a few months, she'd finally decided to re-read Dracula and see if there was anything useful in it, but she wasn't sure Bram Stoker had met a real vampire. She certainly hadn't started growing hair in unfortunate places – but then, unlike Count Dracula, she hadn't gone without blood for a while.
But she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the muddy path that led to the cottage, and she could smell Jenny on the air that came through the cracks around the old windowpanes. Jenny and something else; old meat, sweat, chemicals – something medical. Frowning, she waited for Jenny to come in with her sonic screwdriver, but she didn't. She dithered outside. Clara strained her ears and thought she heard, above the gentle breeze, a sniff. Jenny was crying.
Moving faster than she could think, Clara had dropped her book on the sofa and unlocked the front door, seeing Jenny out there in a very sorry state indeed. Dishevelled and covered in filth, Jenny looked at her with glistening, teary eyes.
"Jenny, what's wrong?" asked Clara immediately, her heart sinking.
"I've had a bad day," Jenny mumbled.
"What happened? Do you…" She stopped. She recognised the chemical smell now from Jenny's surgical mitten when her hand had been growing back. Iodine. She'd been hurt. And there was something else; plaster of Paris. "You have a cast. Where is it? What happened?"
"How do you know?"
"I can smell it," said Clara. "I'm getting good with smells – but we can talk about that later." Jenny revealed the damage. Her right hand – which she'd been holding behind her back – was locked in a heavy cast, blue bandages wrapped around it.
"I broke my thumb. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Somebody else broke it during an interrogation."
"You were being interrogated? Jenny – I – just come here." Clara wrapped her arms around Jenny tightly. Jenny didn't hug her back, she was trembling. Clara squeezed.
"It was dislocated and broken in two places," Jenny explained. "Martha doesn't think it'll heal properly. Not until I next regenerate."
"Well, let's try not to regenerate, okay?" said Clara, releasing her. She put an arm around Jenny's shoulders to lead her into the house. "Come on, I'll make you a tea, I…" Then she noticed it, something perhaps even more noteworthy than Jenny's cast. A huge, silver flying saucer, just sitting there next to the cottage on the moors, hovering.
"That's my ship," said Jenny. "The one Oswin's been building for ages. It's done." That was why she hadn't heard the tell-tale thrumming of the TARDIS landing, then.
"It's a UFO, Jen," said Clara. "You've landed a UFO outside my house."
"It's fine, it has a perception filter," she said.
"…Right…" Clara was utterly unconvinced that people could miss it, shimmering in the moonlight, but didn't bother to argue. At least nobody ever came to Hollowmire.
Clara guided Jenny inside and locked the door behind her, re-engaging the alarms on the wall panel.
"Why don't you have a shower? You smell a bit rife, to be honest," said Clara. "I'll get you a bin bag to keep the cast dry."
It took a while to wash the grime of the day away, and Clara had to help. But she didn't mind washing Jenny's hair for her while she sat, listless, on the shower floor, keeping her bin bag-covered arm aloft and wincing while it throbbed. There was something therapeutic about it all.
"I've no idea how long it's been since I last washed someone else's hair," said Clara. "It's very intimate, isn't it?" Jenny wasn't answering, so Clara talked to fill the silence. She talked about her day in the bookshop, about another delivery of suspicious baked goods Dylan had received from the villagers, and about the devastating loss of his first edition of Wildfell Hall, which he'd finally managed to sell to someone who wasn't Clara.
"We were in Chernobyl," said Jenny when Clara had rinsed all the suds from her hair and body, legs shaking as she stood back up and let Clara wrap the spare towel around her. "I didn't have the information they wanted. It's the Doctor's fault, his idea to go there."
"Do you want me to talk to him?" said Clara.
"About what?"
"Tell him to sort himself out, to do better."
"I don't need anybody telling him to talk to me. He should do it himself." Clara didn't know what to say. She knew the Doctor as well as she knew Jenny and wasn't sure she wanted to get in the middle of things. But was her Other Self having the same issue from the Doctor's side?
"Which Doctor was it?" she asked.
"Eleven. Why?"
"Oh. I just assumed it was the Tenth. Didn't he agree to have dinner with you a while ago? To air everything out?"
"And he never did. He's preoccupied with Rose – trying to propose to her, or something."
"Wow. The Doctor, proposing. Then again, I'd probably propose to Rose Tyler if she was shagging me," said Clara. She was trying to make Jenny laugh, but it wasn't working. "Do you want something to eat, or are you not hungry? I can order takeaway; you don't have to cook."
"Maybe later," said Jenny. "I wouldn't say no to a hot chocolate, though."
"One of my famous hot chocolates?" Clara smiled at her.
"Is there any other kind?" After Jenny sat down at the table Clara kissed the top of her head, then drifted away to the kitchen to put two hot chocolates together.
Neither of them said a word until the drinks were delivered, Jenny taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. Clara didn't know what would help, whether she needed to talk about things or be distracted.
"Thank you," Jenny mumbled when Clara set a hot chocolate in front of her, full of pink marshmallows. "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Of course. If you hadn't asked, I'd insist," said Clara. "I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine. I'm always fine."
"Are you?" said Clara. From her perspective, Jenny was never fine. She hadn't been fine the entire time they'd known each other, and Jenny had let her happy-go-lucky persona start to slip away. She sighed. "We don't need to talk about things, it's okay. But I'm here for you."
"I know. That's why I'm here and not brooding on my own somewhere," said Jenny. "But I don't want to talk about it right now."
"I have something I want to talk about, actually, but it might be a bad time," said Clara. Jenny looked up at her. "This new ship, can it go between universes? Can it go to mine?"
"I think so. I'd just need Oswin to pinpoint a boundary for me. Unless she's installed software that can do it – she might have done," said Jenny. Clara tried to ignore that there was no way she could top building Jenny a spaceship. "Why do you want to go back?"
"I want to see my dad. He's been ringing me, and… I just need to see him in person, he thinks I'm behaving strangely. Which, obviously I am, because I've died, become a vampire, and moved to a parallel universe without giving proper notice at my job," said Clara.
"Right."
"Is it okay? Can you drop me off? You don't have to come with me."
"You don't want me there?"
"Of course I want you there, but if you're not in a good headspace, you don't have to force yourself," said Clara. "But, yes, I'd love to be able to introduce my new, serious girlfriend to him."
"I'm serious?"
"In multiple senses of the word," said Clara. "Unless you, er, have different ideas about where our relationship is at? But I think coming back to life for each other more than once is inherently quite serious."
"Will he like me?"
"Yes, definitely."
"How do you know? I think he hates the Doctor."
"Because they eloped, I assume. Although, he's not too keen on him in my universe, either, after an incident at Christmas dinner when he turned up to my flat naked…" Jenny stared at her. "It's a long story. I don't remember why he was naked. There were these hologram clothes, it… Never mind. Anyway. He'll love you, A, because I'll be introducing you properly – even if it doesn't happen tomorrow – and B, because you're a girl."
"Why would he like that I'm a girl? Isn't he homophobic?"
"Who? My dad? Who said that?"
"I just… I thought I'd heard it."
"Maybe that's another thing that's different between our universes. My dad's always been a bit irritating about how he'd love for me to find a nice woman because he always wanted another daughter," said Clara. "And he never got to meet Danny."
"I can take you tomorrow. I don't know if I'll come in, but I'll take you."
"Are you sure? Because if it's complicated, with… If things aren't great with your dad, I don't want you to think that I'm rubbing it in."
"That's ridiculous, I'd never think that. It's nothing alike. You've got a normal, healthy relationship with your father – he didn't abandon you for two hundred years."
"I suppose not," said Clara, not liking how resentful Jenny sounded. The situation on the TARDIS was clearly becoming more and more unhealthy, and she didn't know if or how she should intervene. Maybe she just had to let Jenny get on with it and be there for her no matter what. "Even if you don't come in, I'm gonna tell him about you, if that's okay."
"It's fine. Nobody's introduced me to their parents before, though."
"How can that be true? You're an angel."
"I think a lot of people would disagree with you there," she said quietly. "I should really bake something before I meet your dad for the first time."
"If there's stuff in the house, by all means," said Clara. "Go ahead."
"Don't know if I'm up to it."
"It'll be okay whether you bake or not," said Clara. "Why not just nip to the bakery in the morning? I know it's not the same as making something yourself, but if you're attached to the idea, then-"
"I'll think about it," said Jenny. Clara studied her for a moment; she was desperately sad, sadder than usual. But that wasn't always bad. She'd have to process it in her own way, and it might take a while. But she didn't want to keep talking, that was clear enough.
"Hey," Clara touched her shoulder. "Why don't we go sit on the sofa and I'll keep reading my book? We don't have to talk about anything at all."
"…Thank you," said Jenny. "That would be nice."
"Yeah. It will be."
DAY 134
Rewritten June 2024
978: Another Girl Another Planet XV
Ravenwood
Clara awoke just after midday to the smell of meat frying upstairs – real meat, not enticing humans. She could hear the sizzling of the oil in the pan, and it was enough to lure her out of bed a little earlier than usual. When she'd made her way upstairs, she found Jenny, turning sausages over with the tongs in her left hand. The right hand was behind her back to keep it from getting oil on it.
Clara cleared her throat and Jenny turned around. She looked rough and couldn't quite manage to smile.
"You're up early," she said.
"The smell woke me up," said Clara.
"Sorry."
"No, it's fine; are there enough sausages for two?" asked Clara.
"Yes. But it might take me a bit longer to butter the bread."
"That's alright," said Clara. "I'll put the kettle on." Jenny nodded. Clara filled it up and sorted the teabags and the sugar, giving Jenny a few extra teaspoons. "Did you get much sleep?"
"A little. I was thinking… I do want you to introduce me to your dad properly."
"Are you sure? I don't have to if you're not up for it."
"No, I like that you want me to meet him. It's good, it… It's like having a family."
"Jenny…" Clara approached when she heard Jenny sniff again.
"I'm fine," said Jenny, a little sharper than Clara was expecting. She stopped. "Sorry. But I'm fine. Don't fuss over me – you always do that. You worry too much." Clara thought she worried exactly the right amount, but she didn't argue.
"Well," Clara began, "if you really want to be a part of my family, it's not my dad you have to impress."
"No?"
"It's my gran. After, um, after Danny died, she came all the way down to London to stay with me for a bit. Big help. She slept through the subsequent Cyberman invasion, luckily. She'll love you, though."
"You keep saying that, but I'm not the person you think I am," said Jenny quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Doesn't matter."
"…Okay," Clara again let it go. She'd never been able to get Jenny to confide in her if she didn't want to. "I'm gonna call my dad, give him a heads-up that I'm not coming alone."
"Mmhm."
Clara picked up her phone and headed to the other side of the cottage – not that that would stop Jenny from being able to hear her since it was so small. When she called her dad, he answered right away.
"Clara! This is unexpected," he said. "Usually, I'm the one who has to call." She smiled to herself. Thank god the Doctor had changed events so that he hadn't had to think she was dead, not even for a moment. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," said Clara. "I'm gonna drive across today, if that's alright. I told you I've moved to West Yorkshire? So, it's not that far back to Blackpool now."
"You should move back to Lancashire permanently," he said.
"I'm happy enough here." Visiting Blackpool was fine, but she couldn't say she had any desire to live there again. "Is it okay, though? I'm just gonna have some lunch, so, it'll still be a few hours yet."
"Of course! You're always welcome for dinner," he said. "Is it a special occasion?"
"No, I just, erm… I've got this girlfriend. I'm bringing her over, if you don't mind."
"If you're not worried that I'll scare her off. That's good to hear, though – good that you've moved on from… Well, you know," he said.
"From Danny. You can say his name, it's not cursed."
"Like I said. It's good. And it's so rare I get to meet one of your special friends," he said.
"Please don't call them that. It's serious with her, actually, even if it's been a bit whirlwind. She's called Jenny and she's wonderful – she's making me a sausage sandwich right now."
"Is that some kind of euphemism?"
"Oh, ha, ha. You're not funny."
"How serious is serious?"
"Very. That's why you're being allowed to meet her, even though I know you're going to be dreadful and tell her awful stories and get all those photo albums out," she said.
"Without your mother here, I have to be embarrassing enough for two parents," he said.
"I suppose you do," said Clara, smiling. She heard Jenny put a plate down behind her. "I'd better go, I think my lunch is done. We'll be there by two."
"Do you want me to get your gran over?"
"No, Jenny'll need a lot more prep before she meets gran."
"I'm just a warm-up act, then? A dry run?"
"Exactly." He laughed. "I'm going now. I'll see you later."
"Love you, Clara."
"I love you, too." She hung up in time to finish the teas and join Jenny at the dining table, an unevenly buttered sausage sandwich in front of her. The butter didn't matter, though; it was still delicious.
"How's your dad?" asked Jenny.
"Seems fine. Excited to meet you. You know, Jen, we will be family one day, I hope," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"When I marry you." Jenny coughed on her sandwich. "I mean in the future – I'm not asking now. I wouldn't make the mistake of asking you to marry me without a spectacular ring."
"Are you joking?"
"Why would I joke?"
"You want to be married to me? One day?"
"Yes? Er, sorry, is this not mutual? Should I not have said anything?"
"I just haven't thought about it."
"Really?"
"Why would you want to marry me? I… We'll talk about this later."
"Does it warrant talking about? I'm not planning on asking you anytime soon. If I ever did, it would be years away." Jenny didn't say anything. "I didn't mean to upset you, I-"
"I'm not upset. It's nice of you, I just… I've got a lot on my mind."
"You can share what's on your mind." Jenny rubbed her eyes with her hands, her face scrunched up with frustration.
"I'm processing," she said. That was it. Again, Clara didn't push her. She got the sense that Jenny was on the brink of something and that they really shouldn't be going to see Dad at all that day. But Clara changing her mind might make things worse.
They ate in silence, and Jenny didn't finish her food, which wasn't like her. When Jenny went back downstairs to get dressed, Clara took her phone out to text somebody and ask for advice, until she realised that she didn't really have anybody to talk to. She really had to make better friends with Sally and Esther.
Things remained fraught all morning, with Jenny hardly speaking until they were both dressed and ready to board the enormous UFO she'd parked outside the cottage. Going by the fact Clara hadn't received news via Sally Sparrow of a flying saucer sighting on the moors, the perception filter must be working. Jenny lit up a little when it came time to give the grand tour, though.
It shone brilliantly, even with the cloud cover, and Clara ducked through the shadows to stay out of the way of what little sunlight there was. It looked as if it had been made out of one solid block of aluminium and was one of the most alien things Clara had ever seen.
"It's small, isn't it?" she said.
"It's bigger on the inside," said Jenny, taking out what could be easily mistaken as a regular car key. When she pressed the button, a hatch on the bottom slid open, the metal melting away as a small staircase descended, folding itself out. It didn't quite reach the ground, but it was low enough to step onto. Jenny offered Clara her good hand to help her up, which was unnecessary, but Clara accepted.
"Well, you can't say Oswin's not stylish," said Clara.
"I care more about practicality, but I did let her run away with it, metaphorically speaking. She's not very good at running."
The hatch led up to a narrow, galley-style kitchen, which fed at the far end into a cockpit; she could see the chairs and controls, and the emerald moors through a window that was invisible from the outside. Jenny closed the hatch up behind them.
"The light shouldn't hurt you when it comes through those windows," said Jenny. "They block out radiation completely." Clara had worked that out already since she could see outside without getting too much eye strain.
Behind her, at the back of the ship, were three doors. One on the left, one on the right, and one at the middle where the galley terminated.
"What's through there?" asked Clara. Jenny leant over her shoulder and pointed each one out.
"Left goes down to the engines, right is storage and all the life support equipment. The middle one is the bedroom."
"You've got a bedroom?"
"It wouldn't be a very good spaceship without one," said Jenny, walking through the kitchen and its futuristic appliances Clara didn't recognise to open the door. It was small in there, but there was a bed, at least, and a clothes rail attached to the circular back wall, along with some built-in drawers. "It's all mine, though. A place of my own."
"That'll be nice," said Clara. "It's a bit cold, though."
"Mm… Maybe I'll get a heater, some mood lighting. Or decorations. Landscapes."
"Do you want some help? I like decorating," said Clara.
"I… Yeah, actually. That would be nice." Clara smiled at her, but she looked at the floor. "Shall we go?"
"Jenny," Clara caught her hand. "I'm only going to say this once more. You don't have to meet him today if you're not up for it. If you need time to yourself, it's alright." She did her serious voice, the one she usually reserved for trying to persuade unruly teenagers to listen to her. Jenny didn't snap at her.
"I'll be fine. I promise. Do you believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you," Clara lied.
"Good. Then, let's go."
Rewritten June 2024
979: Ideal Father
Jenny
She'd spent the evening, the night, and the morning ripping herself apart. Everything was too much; the sound of the birds outside, the smell of her food, Clara trying to talk to her and cheer her up. She hated that she was so angry and that she couldn't keep it inside anymore – which just made her angrier, and worried she was going to lash out at Clara. And, god, how she'd hate herself if she did that. None of it was Clara's fault. It was all his. Just like always. The Doctor. And now Thirteen had left her, too, just like the day she was born, and even though there were three Doctors left on the TARDIS, trying to talk to them was just as difficult as when she was lost and alone in the universe.
Her broken thumb was throbbing with pain; she was trying to fight the cast and ball her hand into a fist subconsciously, having to remember to relax.
She forced a smile onto her face when Clara brought her up to the front door of Dave Oswald's house in suburban Blackpool, a city that looked more desolate and dejected than Jenny had dared to imagine when they'd driven through it. But she barely heard a word anybody said. Clara did all the talking, explaining that Jenny was quiet and going through a difficult time and apologising on her behalf. And again, all Jenny could do was hate that Clara had to apologise at all, that for the first time in a century, she wasn't managing to put on a face and do her best to trick everybody around her into thinking she was fine. Then again, she didn't think that trick had ever worked on Clara.
"How did you meet, then?" Dave asked after bringing them more tea. "On one of those apps?"
"No, Dad. Jenny doesn't know anything about any apps." That was true enough. "We just met through a mutual friend, that's it. But she thought I was annoying, so we didn't hit it off for a while."
"I've never thought you were annoying," said Jenny.
"Well… thanks," said Clara, taken aback. "I guess that's how I know she's a keeper, if she's one of the only people in the world who doesn't find me annoying."
"And what do you do for a living, Jenny?" asked Dave.
"I'm between livings," she said.
"That's true, but she's actually a trained chef," Clara intervened. "She cooks for me all the time."
"Isn't that lucky for you, since you've never even bothered to learn how to boil an egg." They launched into an argument about how bad Clara was in the kitchen, and how Dave didn't know where he and Ellie had gone so wrong with her; apparently, they didn't know where her culinary ineptitude had come from. It was almost supernatural how useless she was in the kitchen, he said.
But all the words faded away to Jenny and she felt herself sinking, as if she was slipping deeper and deeper underwater while Clara and Dave remained surface-bound and oblivious. That was how she'd been feeling for weeks – months – ever since that day on Trancha II, and she couldn't keep her head above the waves any longer.
"I'm going for a walk," she stood, interrupting them, no idea what they'd been talking about.
"Are you?" said Clara. "I think Dad was just about to get the photo albums out."
"They'll keep. I'll be back. Ring me if you need anything."
"Will it be a long walk?" asked Clara.
"It might be. But I won't be far. I'll never be far from you." She excused herself, leaving Clara to apologise once again and explain that Dave shouldn't worry about how strange Jenny was being because she was always like that. And maybe that was true.
The big UFO had a quantum teleport link to the TARDIS, functioning much the same as the emergency teleporters, so she could always find her way back. It wasn't lost on her how ironic this was, given how she'd spent the last two centuries. It didn't take more than a few minutes to return to the flying saucer, cloaked, invisible, and parked on a sliver of waste ground down the road, and then to use the link to take herself back to the TARDIS itself, wherever it was in time and space at that moment.
The console room was empty, so she seized control, taking the ship back – all the way back to the last place she'd been before it had all gone wrong: Messaline. In the years following the war she'd been born into, it had become a lush, garden world, overflowing with flora and fauna. It wasn't easy to fly the ship with only one good hand, but she managed, and she managed to keep her voice from shaking too much when she called Alpha Clara to ask that she send Eleven outside. He'd been lingering at her side while she recovered from her electrocution, but she sent him away when Jenny asked regardless.
She paced up and down while she waited, trying to get the words straight in her head, but she ran out of time. The Eleventh Doctor stepped out of the ship and straightened his bowtie. When he smiled at her, her blood boiled. How dare he smile at her.
"That hand's, erm… How is it?" he asked. "I was looking for you to ask, but-"
"It would be a lot better if you'd listened to me and used the TARDIS yesterday," she said quietly.
"You're right. I'm sorry about that."
"You – you have a lot more than that to be sorry for." He studied her, then looked around to take in where they were.
"Messaline?" he said, recognising it.
"Messaline two-hundred-and-eight years after you were last here," she said. "Maybe if I'd stayed to rebuild, things would have been alright. You put ideas in my head about seeing the universe."
"That's a bad thing?"
"It's why everything went wrong."
"Everything like what? Like freedom?" he said.
"Freedom? Is that what you think you gave me?" she said. "You left me alone. You left me with nothing, for all this time. But I suppose two hundred years is nothing to you, that's small change in the grand scheme of things." She'd rehearsed this every day for centuries, and every word came off as petulant. She couldn't conjure any gravitas – there was no chance that he would listen.
"I'm sorry about that," he said.
"Sorry isn't good enough anymore."
"What do you want, Jenny?"
"I don't know – understanding? Acknowledgement? Retribution?"
"Retribution?"
"Two hundred years! And you don't know the first thing about me! It's not like you've been keeping tabs – I know you haven't, I know you don't care, because if you did, you would have stopped me!" she shouted at him.
"Stopped you from doing what?"
"From everything! Everything I've done, all the people I've hurt, the people I've killed. Hundreds, dead, because of me. Because of you, because you made me and you left me like I was nothing. Like I've never been anything but a footnote in your life, an inconvenience – collateral damage from your brave attempt to stop a civil war on a radioactive planet nobody cared about. Far be it from me to get in the way of your legend."
He shook his head. "I taught you that there's always another way to solve problems, that you don't need to resort to violence. It isn't my fault if you didn't listen, and-"
"Of course it's your fault! It's your fault because I didn't have a choice! I was born and then left behind to become a weapon in other people's hands, and you never did a thing to try and help, to rescue me! You don't even know, you-"
"Then tell me!" he matched her volume, finally. "Or is that what this is about? You want me to research – you're setting me homework? Who died and why? Why didn't you have a choice?"
"Because I was tortured! I was taken away from everything good I ever had because I'm a blunt instrument. Your blunt instrument. And they moulded me into… I was sliced up, branded, beaten, so much that I didn't remember my own name. All I could do was what she told me so that the pain would stop." Have Faith, the words rang in her head. It will be over one day. "Assassins." He rubbed his forehead, frustrated.
"I'm sorry that that happened to you, but-"
"But nothing. It happened because of you. If you'd waited just a few hours to even see if I regenerated, you could have taken me with you."
"And you think that would have avoided all of this?"
"Yes!"
"Any number of things could have happened; you could have been hurt countless times under my care. The TARDIS is no guarantee."
"You didn't even respect me enough to bury me properly. No funeral rites, no goodbye, no information left behind on the off-chance I came back. And I don't care if I would've died again on the TARDIS with you, because those other people wouldn't have. There would be more people alive and well in the universe if I wasn't."
"And you don't think that's true for me, too?" he challenged her. "Of course it is. Of course people get hurt. I had two options: wait for you and take you with me on the TARDIS, where something terrible happening to you was guaranteed, or leave you to make your own way."
"And terrible things happened anyway," said Jenny.
"Yes, and I'm sorry for that!"
"You still haven't even asked!"
"Asked what!?"
"What else happened! Where I've been! How I've felt for all this time! I've been here on this ship for months, and all you've done is avoid me unless you disapprove of who I'm spending my nights with, and then you wade in like you have any right to tell me what I can and can't do!"
"So, this is about Clara," he nodded.
"No! None of it is! You're so self-absorbed – I'm not with her to get back at you!" She felt the lie as she said it, but she still doubled down. Maybe things with Clara had started that way, out of pettiness and spite for both the Doctor and Jack, but they weren't like that anymore. "This is about two hundred years of… of… of struggle!"
"And you don't think I've struggled, too?" said the Doctor. "You really think I haven't thought about you at all for all this time?"
"I'm just another dead person on your conscience – or whatever you have instead."
"You don't understand. I lost my entire species, all of them, all the Time Lords-"
"So did I!" Jenny cut him off, her voice hoarse and her eyes full of tears. "Because you're my entire species! And you were gone!" He stopped. "Every day, I wish I had stayed dead. But I didn't. I had to come back."
Eleven
She'd lost her entire species because he was her entire species. He'd never thought of it like that. Somehow, he'd fooled himself into believing that Jenny was fine. That the bright, happy mood she'd been in when they'd all reunited on Trancha II was permanent. But slowly, this had eroded, when time and time again, none of her three fathers had thought to find out who she was.
And he knew why. The risk. The risk that her life hadn't been better without him in it like he'd thought. That she'd come back and hadn't been able to make her own way in the universe like he hoped. But what would have happened if she'd come? Would she have survived the Daleks stealing twenty-seven planets? Would she have survived on San Helios? Would she have been there with him on Bowie Base One to witness the Time Lord Victorious? How could he have ever looked her in the eye again?
But he wasn't looking her in the eye anyway. She was broken in more ways than one, his daughter. And he had left her behind without waiting for a regeneration or holding her a funeral. He was so used to saying goodbye that it was a reflex. Did he even remember the moment when he'd made the decision not to wait anymore?
"My whole life, all I wanted was to find you," said Jenny. "And then I did, and… and you can't even look at me. How do you think that feels?" He didn't know how it felt. "I've died, twice, and you haven't been there. But she was. And I can't understand how you can one day turn into the woman who gives me nicknames and makes me grilled cheese sandwiches and spent six weeks making pickles to leave for me to eat when she was gone because she knew how hard it was going to be."
"Pickles?" he said. She didn't say anything, just let herself drop to the ground, crouching with her head in her hands. She screamed, sobbing. "Jenny, we can talk. Of course we can talk. For as long as you like."
"I shouldn't have had to ask."
"I know. And I'm sorry, but-"
"Sorry isn't good enough anymore. Why did you leave me? Why did you really leave me?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
He was.
"I don't know," he repeated. She shook her head.
"I'm leaving."
"You don't have to do that," he said. "You-"
"No. You know where I'll be, don't pretend otherwise. I won't come back, so, if we never see each other again, know that that's your fault, too. Just like it's your fault that I grew up in a swamp, that I've killed people, that I've died three times, and that I've broken my thumb. And know that you're a coward – which isn't the badge of honour you think it is."
"I never claimed to be perfect or that I've never made mistakes! In fact, all I've done is made mistakes, I-"
"Then I'm better off without you! Maybe it was good that you left me, so that I didn't become like you."
"We're more alike than you think."
"Get out of my way."
He tried to stop her from barging past him and going back on the ship, but she elbowed him hard in the stomach and knocked him aside easily, slamming the TARDIS door.
"Jenny, please! Don't – oh, alright then, be like that!" The ship was vworping away, and he backed off. "Fine! Leave me on Messaline, maybe I'll run into you in another two hundred years! We can share stories of how horrible we both feel, how's that!?" But he was just shouting into the wind. She was gone, and so was the TARDIS. "Kids, honestly… this is why I didn't…" He kicked a pebble along the ground. "This is why I didn't want anymore, they always…"
Even alone for all that time, Jenny had still become the thing the Doctor feared above all else: himself.
Rewritten June 2024
980: Another Girl Another Planet XVI
Ravenwood
Jenny didn't come back for hours, not until after Clara had sat down and had dinner with her dad. It was nice to catch up with him alone, at least, but her sudden absence did raise more questions than Clara would have liked.
"She didn't seem very happy, Clara," said Dave while Clara mopped up gravy with his famous roast potatoes.
"She's just had a hard life," said Clara. "It's still hard, in a lot of ways. She was, um, mugged lately – that's what happened to her thumb."
"That's awful."
"I know, I'm… I'm really worried about her," said Clara. If she couldn't speak to Dad, who else was there? "She, uh… It's difficult to explain, but, her dad, he's been absent for most of her life. He left her when she was a lot younger, and she's been on her own since. Now they're… in contact again, but I think it's upsetting her. I don't know how to get her to talk to me."
"That is hard," he said.
"I shouldn't have brought her here today, it's made it worse," said Clara with a sigh. Was Jenny even on Earth anymore? "I told her she didn't need to come."
"People rarely behave in the ways we want them to," said Dave. "I never wanted you to move all the way to London."
"How could I not stay with the Maitlands after their mum died?" said Clara. "I know what it's like losing a parent at their age."
"I know, I know," he said. "But people will do things in their own way no matter what. And you don't always talk about what's bothering you. You barely speak about that man, the Doctor, anymore. And then there was everything with Danny."
"Jenny's been good for that," said Clara quietly. "And the Doctor isn't in my life anymore." Except, he was, because he was Jenny's father. It made her head spin. "She's just in so much pain, and I don't know how to help."
"Just be there," said Dave. "That's all anyone can do. Just be there for her, and when she's ready to reach out, she will." Clara nodded. He was right, but she didn't know how long that would take. Jenny was hurting now, and Clara was useless.
She heard a buzzing in the living room; her phone was going.
"That's probably her now, I'd better answer," said Clara, getting up and squeezing Dave's shoulder once before she left. He covered her hand with his own for a moment, then frowned.
"You're very cold."
"Oh, er, are you sure?" she said. She didn't have a good lie ready for why she was cold, or what was in her flask, or why her eyes were darker than they'd ever been.
"Are you ill, Clara?"
"Just a bit under the weather, maybe – nothing serious," she said, picking up her phone. It was Jenny. She answered. "Hey – everything okay?" Silence. "Jenny?"
"I'm just around the corner, in the ship," she said. She sounded strained. "Whenever you want to leave."
"I'll be there now."
"You don't have to. Stay as long as you like."
"Okay, I will. And I'll be there now. No arguments."
"Fine," said Jenny, and then she hung up. Clara stared at the phone screen for a moment, then went back into the kitchen.
"I should go, she's waiting around the corner," she said.
"She's not coming to say goodbye?" said Dave.
"No, I doubt it. But I'll bring her again when she's… I hope she'll start doing better. It would break my heart if she doesn't."
"You love her, don't you?"
"Yeah. I promise, she's a dream. It's not her fault she's sad; don't judge her too harshly."
"I won't, I trust you," he said. "I hope her hand heals without too much trouble."
"Me, too."
She said her goodbyes and left, taking a tin full of ham sandwiches he'd made for her that morning. He always gave her food to take when she visited because he knew how bad she was at feeding herself otherwise. She'd given up complaining, and she always liked Dad's ham sandwiches, anyway.
She didn't bother to draw her umbrella against the rain, but she did need it to bang on the hull of the flying saucer, trying to remember where it was since Jenny had activated the cloaking. She found it and hit the metal a few times. The Doctor had once told her the story of his Victorian Echo, needing an umbrella to hook onto the TARDIS's ladder when he'd been living on a cloud.
The stairs were activated from within, descending just low enough that Clara could step up. She found Jenny curled up and leaning against the silver, kitchen cabinets, with a jar of pickled gherkins on the floor next to her. She was picking them out with the fingers of her good hand and eating them, crying a little.
"Don't mind me, I thought you'd stay longer," she said through her tears. Clara knelt beside her, the stairs curling back up into the spaceship's belly as she did, leaving the umbrella on the floor. Clara didn't ask her what was wrong, though. She had a different question.
"What's with the gherkins?" she asked softly, picking up the jar so that she could sit right next to Jenny without knocking it over.
"They're the Doctor's – the, um, Thirteen's," said Jenny. "She was making jars of pickles, and… and she's gone. She left, a few days ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?" said Clara.
"Because it's a stupid thing to be upset about."
"Jen, in what world is it stupid to miss your mother?"
"Because I'll see her again. I don't know when, but I will. How can I talk to you about that? When you still have nightmares about yours?"
"You just have to open your mouth and speak," said Clara, trying to smile. "We can talk about anything. You don't ever have to hide your feelings from me."
"I went to see him," said Jenny, taking another bite from her gherkin. "The Doctor. That's where I was."
"Oh. How did it go?" asked Clara, even though she knew the answer.
"I left him behind on Messaline. I wish I could leave him there for two hundred years, but somebody will go and get him."
"I imagine they will, yeah. Come here." Clara put her box of sandwiches down and wrapped an arm around Jenny's shoulders, pulling her in. "Whatever you're upset about, it's always okay to talk about it. But I know that you're… you're not used to having someone you can trust to open up to." Jenny was quiet, chewing, the smell of vinegar on the air. She curled up against Clara.
"There are things you don't know about me. Bad things that I've done, and things that were done to me," said Jenny. Clara stayed quiet, hoping that that was what was needed to get Jenny to open up properly. But it unsettled her the way, when Jenny next spoke, all the emotion left her voice and the tears dried up. "I told you about Astrid, about how she had a daughter and I left."
"Yeah. Not by choice, you said."
"I was taken. There was a woman. She hurt me. For years, she hurt me, brainwashed me. I didn't remember who I was, my own name – I did anything to make the pain stop. But she wanted me to kill people for her, for money. And I did. So many people. For fourteen years, I was just a weapon. It got worse and worse, until eventually… I woke up. Somebody helped me, showed me compassion." She paused, still holding a half-eaten gherkin in the gloomy spaceship kitchen. "I killed her. She tried to get back into my head, reprogram me, and I shot her in the head, I cut her up, and I threw her into the nearest star." She paused for a few more moments, talking in a monotone. "That wouldn't have happened if he hadn't left me there."
It was rare for Clara to be lost for words, but it still happened sometimes. When Jenny confided in her, finally, she knew that this was the thing Jenny kept buried, the thing that she was struggling to keep buried any longer.
"When… When I died, when you attacked that man-"
"She was called Faith. She used to say this thing to me, like a… like a trigger phrase. 'Have Faith'. That's what he said. He said to have faith in the Gutkeled bloodline, that you were strong. And now, I don't know if he'll ever speak again. River took him to a hospital, and they thought he'd be eating through a tube for the rest of his life," said Jenny. "I'm dangerous. Too dangerous to be around people."
"I'm not people," said Clara. "I'm vampire." Jenny nuzzled her and dropped the rest of her pickle back into in the jar. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of it."
"It's not for you to apologise," said Jenny. "And she's gone now. She can't hurt me anymore. I'm lucky that Frir didn't uncover all this, if I'd had to relive it, I… Maybe I'd have killed myself out there, too. Like all the others. Sometimes I think that would be better, and I could be free from all this."
"Jenny…" said Clara. Her instinct was to tell Jenny not to say things like that, but that would risk her shutting down again. She should be able to express herself so that they could talk it all through. "I'd prefer it if you don't do that."
"Don't worry, I've never tried. I just think it sometimes."
"Did you say this to the Doctor?"
"Most of it."
"Maybe it'll be a wake-up call. The Doctor – Thirteen, I mean – she loves you. She made you all these gherkins, didn't she? She took us out for dinner. She told me that she wanted me to come back to life because I make you laugh. You have to trust that talking to him will work, even though it feels like you're hitting your head against a brick wall a lot of the time," said Clara. Jenny sniffed again.
"She gave me a nickname."
"I know. She gave me one, too."
"And he never even bothered to name me once."
"Maybe that's her way of making up for it," said Clara.
"Blue," said Jenny. "Because I'm sad."
"At least that means she knows you're said," Clara rubbed her shoulder. "Rather than having no idea."
"I'd just regenerated. She sat with me and made me a grilled cheese."
"And she'll be here one day," said Clara. "I don't know how long that'll take, but it will happen. And I'll be there for you until it does – and afterwards."
"Thank you," said Jenny.
"Do you ever see her? Astrid, I mean? And the other Jennie?"
"Every few years. I send them money. I know it's not the same as being there, but… I can't bear the way Astrid looks at me anymore, with all that pity, because she remembers who I was before. And the Stasi are keeping her under surveillance, anyway, because they want me for murder. A murder I didn't commit, for the record, but I did take the rap for somebody else."
"Can't you take her away now? With the TARDIS?"
"She's always refused time travel," said Jenny. "It took a lot of persuading to get her to even leave East Berlin, she's not going to move time periods. Believe me, I've asked. Countless times." Clara nodded, thinking. Maybe she'd like to meet Astrid one day, and Jennie. "Can I stay with you?"
"Always," said Clara.
"I don't just mean for a night. I mean… it might be for a while. I'm not going back to the TARDIS."
"You can stay as long as you like," said Clara. "I hate watching you leave. And it'll be good to have you where I can keep an eye on you – make sure you're looking after your hand properly. Besides, you have your own ship now if you need to go gallivanting through time and space."
"No gallivanting," said Jenny. "Just me and you, where it's quiet. Where I can finally get some peace." Clara squeezed her again. "How was your dad?"
"He's fine. He noticed how cold I am, though. I told him I'm under the weather. Oh, and he gave me these." She picked up her tin to show it to Jenny. "Ham sandwiches. Because I don't know how to feed myself. Good with gherkins, though."
"Did he like me?"
"He was worried about you. But he trusts me. It's okay; we'll go see him again when you're doing better, won't we? Once the Doctor sorts himself out, which he will."
"We'll see."
"If you want my dad to be there for you, he can be," said Clara. "He could be your father-in-law one day. But you don't have to wait until anything's legal until we… We can be a family. Even if it's just the two of us, starting from now, we can be a family. If you want."
"…Just to be clear, this isn't you asking me to marry you, is it…?"
"No. You'll know when that happens; I'll have a ring, like I told you already. And I'm not planning anything, for the record. This is years down the line. I just want you to know that I'm serious about… It sounds cheesy, but about us being together forever."
"It's okay to be cheesy," said Jenny. "Besides, when it comes to somebody I can be with forever, I don't have too many options. I think we're stuck with each other."
"How romantic," said Clara, laughing a little. "How are you doing? Are you up for flying us home yet? Or, um…"
"What?"
"Why don't we go somewhere and get some garden furniture? Then we can sit out on the moors in the fresh air."
"That would be nice," said Jenny. "I think I can fly." She was unsteady on her feet; Clara helped her up, then put the gherkins and the sandwiches back into the UFO's fridge.
"Perfect."
"Do you really mean it?" said Jenny when she'd sat down in the pilot's chair. "About us being a family?"
"Yes. Completely."
"Alright. Then, we're a family." Clara reached over and took her hand.
"We are."