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Clara leaped into the console room. "Ready for another adventure, Doctor?"
Her smile dropped as she looked around. The Doctor; nowhere to be seen. The console room was virtually silent, apart from the thrum of the engines.
That was before she heard someone clear their throat. On the level above, there was a dark bundle on the armchair, barely moving, in the shadow of the round things (lovely round things).
She paced to the stairs. "Doctor? Is everything alright?"
"Right as rain." He let out a suppressed yet wet cough. "I'll be there... in just a minute." The companion cocked her head. He was way too silent, his voice a bit too raspy for her liking.
"No no, we aren't going anywhere." Clara ran up the stairs, walking to the darkened silhouette; the stick insect time lord and armchair combined. He shuddered as soon as she placed the back of her hand to his forehead. "Doctor, you're burning up."
"It's not the first time, Clara." If she could just leave him alone...
"And if you stay like this, it will be your last." She sighed. "Let's go to medbay."
"No." He said a bit too harshly that it almost made him slip into a coughing fit. "I'll be fine." He murmured, half asleep. He prayed and prayed that his throbbing headache would stop... that all this would be over.
And most of all, that his companion would stop treating him like a child.
"Please, Doctor." She breathed in despair.
He mumbled something Clara couldn't quite understand. But she was relatively sure that it was some curse in Gallifreyan.
"Fine, you leave me with no choice." She sighed.
As much as the Doctor wanted to ask (he didn't like her tone... He knew she had something up her sleeve), he was too tired and in pain to speak, let alone move.
He could hear Clara tapping on the console buttons and talking about how he was hard headed and that she would never forgive herself if something were to happen to him.
She went on and on as he started delving into the world of sleep, faintly hearing the TARDIS rotor turning.
Clara....
Clara....
"Clara." He mumbled dreamily.
"I'm here." Her soft voice made him feel ever so slightly better. A cold cloth pressed on his slightly fevered forehead ensued. "How are you feeling?"
" 'Bit sore." He opened his eyes slightly, Clara's face swimming into view. "Your face is looking less round than usual."
A smile graced her lips. "And I assume that is a compliment?"
"Guess so."
"That's rare." She chuckled. That was good; he had amused her. She was happy. That’s what counts. "Then, I accept your compliment. Thank you."
He breathed a laugh. The time lord still did not understand how Clara was able to ease his pain away when she was around. Always. And as the months drove on, the better she got at it. Or the more he was falling for her.
"Are we in the TARDIS?" He breathed.
"I asked Madame Vastra for some help taking care of your lazy arse, and she thought it would be best to keep you in her home for a while. Get some fresh late 18th century air in you."
"You should be doing something infinitely more productive than looking at my old face whilst I sleep."
"I am. I'm taking care of you."
"I don't need taking care of." His eyelids started slipping, with the time lord fighting off the tiredness.
She laughed. "Yeah, I won't even test your theory out."
"I don't know what hit me." He said, plastering his palm to his forehead.
"Strax said you had a mild flu and-"
"Mild flu? I never get sick!" His louder voice made him break off into coughing. His back arched as the time lord coughed into the pillow.
"Easy..." She rubbed his back, her heart panged with pain as she saw him gasp for air.
After a while, the cough had ceased, leaving the time lord tired. "Go away... I'll make you si-"
But Clara shushed him gently. "You don't have to worry about it. Besides, it isn't transmissible to humans." Even if it were, I wouldn't think of leaving your side. "And try not to talk as much; you might slip into another coughing fit." He obeyed, mostly because he wanted to focus on Clara's fingers massaging her scalp. He didn't want to interrupt her. "As for never getting sick, I may have a few memories of you getting very sick which you might not enjoy me recalling."
"Fair enough."
"And besides, your immune system might have been repressed because you haven't had enough sleep."
"Sleep is a horrible place to end in when you have so many nightmares." He croaked.
Her eyes filled with tears. She knew how it felt; not sleeping out of fear of having nightmares. It wasn't the first time that she had woken up in cold sweat after 'dying' for the hundredth time. She replied to the Doctor what he had always told her before she would go to sleep. "I'll be here to ward them off."
The time lord chuckled. "I appreciate, Clara. But it's something you don't have to deal with."
"I used to say the same thing to you... after Trenzalore. You never left. And I'm not going to let you suffer alone."
"I have, Clara. For hundreds of years I've suffered alone. Besides I don't want you to bear more than you already ha-" He was cut off by yet another cough. She proceeded to remove the cloth on his forehead and placing it back into the bowl. She let him turn to his side before starting to rub his back. Clara tried to offer a few soothing words but she highly doubted that the time lord could ever hear her through the incessant coughing.
It felt like minutes before he stopped, Clara helping him back whilst elevating his head a little bit more. His eyes were almost shut and his breathing felt a little more jagged out of the fear that he might break into another cough. Clara cupped his cheek. "At least, in those hundreds of years, accept a few months... even years of relief. Give me this." He nodded in surrender, his eyes struggling to stay open. Clara pressed a sweet kiss on his hairline, before cooling the cloth, pushing back a few damp stray curls and placing it back on his forehead. "Can I get you anything?" She asked, knowing that the time lord would soon succumb to another few hours of sleep.
His fingers found her hand, the former wrapping around her short, delicate fingers. "Stay next to me. Please." He murmured.
"'Course." Her fingers tightened around his, hoping he would not feel alone as he drifted off to sleep.
"Lay down." He breathed. "You're exhausted."
As much as she wanted to hold back, the place next to him felt so inviting that she could hardly resist. Clara cuddled next to his bony body, resting his ear on his shoulder. "Are you comfortable?" She asked.
His voice was starting to become hoarse, but was still relatively clear. "Very."
Her hand drifted across his torso. The time lord took her hand tenderly, splaying it over his left heart and cocooning it with his palm. She could easily feel the strong thumps from his hearts under her fingers.
She looked at his face. He looked so calm that he gave the impression he was a 55 year old human. Not the 2000 year old time lord who had experienced way too much death and suffering in his life.
The Universe was a cruel place, governed with what Clara thought was an unfair law. The Doctor had done so much good, sacrificed so much… He was repaid bitterly nonetheless. He didn’t deserve such-
“Would you mind lowering it down a bit?” He muttered sleepily.
“What sorry?” She said, confused
“Your thoughts.” He replied. “A bit too much mental traffic.”
“Oh…” Clara blushed. “Sorry.” Silence ensued. “If you want, I can leave -”
His arm tightened its hold around his companion. “Stay.”
She looked into his eyes; glazed with sickness. Clara had never seen him so vulnerable. He may have been ashamed of being so weak, but at the same time, he did not hide the fact that he needed help.
If this were a situation a few months in Clara's past, he would be too proud to make himself vulnerable.
And yet there he was, pleading to his companion to stay with him, ward of his nightmares, soothe him through the night.
She cleared her mind as much as possible, thinking about the present rather than having a million thoughts whizzing through her head. He was right, there was way too much traffic in her head most of the time.
Her eyes slipped shut as she felt and heard the thumps of his hearts beating gladly. The scent of cinnamon and space enveloped her.
I'm sorry I worried you, Clara. She heard a weak thought manifest in her brain.
She turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, but she knew very well that he wasn't close to sleeping.
"You have to stop worrying about me first, daft old man."
"Mmmm." He hummed dreamily. "I have a duty of care though."
"I do too, stupid old man." She giggled. "And don't think you don't have to be cared for because trust me, if there was no one to care for you, including the TARDIS, I'm sure you wouldn't function."
"If you say so, boss."
"I'm saying so because it's the truth." And it scared her. He was too dependent on her; on his companions. She knew his lives better than anyone and she knew for a fact, companions made him stronger... Hell, more sane!
"Doctor?" She asked.
He hummed in response.
"If anything ever happens to me-"
"Not now, Clara." He breathed. Not ever, actually.
"No, Doctor please." She sighed. "If anything ever happens to me, I want you to promise me that you'll find someone to show the Universe to. Don't be alone, Doctor." His eyes met hers. He never thought he'd hear her say that. But she was right. She would leave him some day, be it by her own choice or otherwise.
He gave a small nod. Clara's face immediately relaxed, her lips curling into a smile. "But I'm still here. So for now, you're stuck with me, daft old man."
"Never doubted you for a moment." He hurred, as his glassy eyes opened.
Clara's smile soon faded as her eyes continued to stare into the Doctor's. Even though tired and glazed with fatigue, they still had so much love for her. She cautiously leaned closer to him, the Doctor never taking his eyes off her. With the little strength he had, he elevated his head, but Clara cupped his cheek. "It's alright, you're tired. I'll do it."
He relaxed back into the pillow, Clara's fingers still caressing his cheek. She brought her nose closer to his, before their lips met tenderly. It was short and sweet. Clara pulled away, before the Doctor made an effort to let their lips meet again, just for a while longer. His fingers passed through her hair before he let go, resting back onto the pillow. It was a small gesture of affection which proved to be more than enough for both.
"How did it feel?" She breathed.
"Better than any medicine." He smiled. "Thank you Clara."
The girl grinned, dimples appearing on her cheeks. She removed the cloth, now on the pillow, and dampened it before placing it on his forehead with utmost delicacy. "You should rest, old man." The Doctor's eyes slipped shut, leaning into the cool hand on his cheek.
"Not before you do." He murmured.
"I guess no one will rest then." She teased.
"I can never have it my way, can I?"
"Rarely." Clara breathed a laugh, which the Doctor mirrored. The companion moved up before pressing her lips to his again.
"Night, Clara." The time lord hurred.
"G'night, Doctor." She said, cuddling closer to him.