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She had probably been in the TARDIS for about a month the first time she heard it. At the time, she hadn’t had a clue what it was. It had sounded to her like a prolonged hissing noise. Not entirely consistent, inconsistent enough to know that it wasn’t just something failing in the ship’s hardware. It came and went at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes it would change in pitch or intensity, and sometimes it seemed to follow her from room to room.
“You really can’t hear it?” she asked for the third time that day.
“No, Clara, I really can’t hear it.” Me had clearly grown tired of the topic of ‘mysterious hissing noise’. “I’d suggest you see a doctor, but-” she shrugged, her sentence trailing off. There were a lot of potential endings to that sentence, and she wasn’t in the mood to unpack any of them.
Clara didn’t answer.
When the hissing persisted into the second day, it became a mystery to solve. She spent the day trying to track it, moving towards where it seemed to get louder, turning around when it became quieter again. She went in and out of bathrooms and closets. She doubled back into the medical bay on at least 3 separate occasions. She took a tour of the gardens and almost walked straight into a lake. She found herself very suddenly on a stage, empty except for a grand piano in the centre. She opened doors onto rooms she couldn’t even guess the purpose of. She ended up in parts of the TARDIS she didn't know they even had, but she didn’t feel any closer to figuring out what was happening.
By the third day she was starting to wonder if something was wrong with her. Me couldn’t hear the hissing at all, but she could, clear as anything. What if the sound wasn’t really there at all? What could that mean for her? That some part of her was failing as a result of her extraction? Her existence wasn’t sustainable? Or was it simply that she was losing her mind? A delayed response to some trauma she’d experienced? Had her brain finally come to terms with the realities of her new ‘life’ and decided it wouldn’t cope?
An indeterminate amount of time spent having an emotional crisis later, Clara decided that “losing her mind” was not an acceptable answer, if only because it was far too mundane. She was going to figure this out. If there was something wrong with her ship, she wanted to know about it. If there was something else going on, well, she wanted to know about that too.
She decided to follow the hissing again, but this time she would be taking notes. Where she went. How long she spent there. How the sound changed or didn’t change as she followed it.
After spending a couple of days on this new project she was feeling just as lost as when she started it. The lists she had didn’t show any kind of pattern that she could identify. She was wandering aimlessly and endlessly. She was becoming a ghost in her own home. But at the same time, she could tell that something was changing. The hissing was becoming more distinct. It was easier to focus on. Sometimes it almost felt like if she could just listen a little bit harder, she’d be able to make out words.
Clara’s research hit an abrupt stop when her shipmate finally got sick of her haunting the place, insisting that they go anywhere , do anything. Clara couldn’t exactly blame her, no matter how important this felt to her.
When they got back to the TARDIS, the sound was more intense than it had ever been. Not louder per se, but somehow more . She noticed it shortly after she entered, as if it had been waiting for her to come back before starting up again. She couldn’t explain why, but she was happy to hear it again. Not because she had missed it, it was actually rather annoying, but maybe because it had started to feel like “home”. It got stronger the closer she got to the console, and dropped off again as she moved past it. She stopped in her tracks, waving on Me to go ahead to bed, and turned back towards the console. She put a friendly hand against her ship, and waited. She could feel more than hear as the hissing sounds finally started turning into words in her head.
are you mine my clara are you mine am i yours are you mine
She gasped and pulled her hand back. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it caught her off guard. She realized how rude she was being though, and gently put her hand back. “I’m yours,” she whispered softly, not sure how else she should be responding.
you can hear me you can hear me you can hear me you
“I can hear you. And I guess you can hear me. So it’s been you, this whole time?”
it’s me i can hear you can hear it’s me i’m yours you listen
“I’m trying to listen. It’s hard. You’re... fuzzy.”
loud i’m loud i scream in your head
“Sorry, sweetie, I don’t think I’m built for this kind of talking.”
screaming screaming screaming screaming
“I’m sorry. You must be lonely.”
lonely lonely lonely lonely you’re mine are you mine lonely lonely
Clara gave her TARDIS what she hoped was a reassuring pat and tried to radiate out feelings of comfort. “It’s okay, I’m here. We can figure this thing out together, okay? Everything’s a bit new and scary for me too. I want to understand you though.”
lonely stole you stole me i scream and you stole me and you listen
“Yeah, I guess we did steal you. And I can’t exactly bring you back home either. Sorry. Again. But I promise I’ll try to listen to you.”
teach you to learn to speak to hear to learn
“You can teach me anything you like. I’ve got lots of time to learn about you. I’m not sure if my brain can work like what you’re used to? I’m gonna try though, I’m stubborn enough for that.”
clara clara clara clara mine clara mine
Clara patted the console again and smiled softly. “Yeah, I’m your Clara now. Is there anything I can call you?”
clara clara clara i’m clara clara i’m clara
Clara laughed, her entire being radiating joy and love and safety to her TARDIS. “Well, we can workshop the identity thing later I suppose.”