Chapter Text
„Oh you remember eh…..“
.....Remember, remember….he did remember her, of course, the pretty one, the one currently looking at him, her hair in disarray.
He knew her…well. What was her name?
„Thingy.“
No. No, that wasn’t it.
„The not me one, the asking questions one.“
Why did she ask so many questions? He had answers, naturally, he always had answers. The problem was, that he had too many answers. Answers to questions, she hadn’t asked.
„Names, not my area.“
„Clara!“
Was it Clara? That didn’t sound right.
„Might be Clara, might not be! It’s a lottery!“
„It is Clara!“
Ah, well, yes, if she said so. She seemed exhausted, cross (very cross, judging by her eyes….huge eyes, who had eyes that big?), the way she was leaning against the Tardis, breathing heavily.
Her face….round. Big eyes. Round face.
His clothes felt strange. Too….brown. He didn’t like the color.
And where was all this shouting coming from? Ah yes, Dinosaur.
He would need to fix that.
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„It’s not one of those things you can fix like you fix your bow tie..“
———————
Bow tie? He didn’t wear a bow tie, did he?
A flash of long, red hair swept through his vision but he couldn’t see properly.... New eyes and all, still a bit tricky.
„I think something’s gone wrong.“
„Wrong?“
What?
„What’s gone wrong?“
Her face was driving him mad. He knew her, he could have sworn it. But hadn't her hair been longer the last time he….
„Have you regenerated?“
No, no, no, this was all wrong. She wasn’t human, she wasn’t…
„I remember you! You’re Handles! You used to be a little, a little robot head, and now….“
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„Emergency! You’re my boyfriend!“
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Bright lights, Christmas…a long, long christmas....but it wasn't christmas anymore.
He shook his head.
"You’ve really let yourself go.“
She seemed to deflate at that, somehow. Her face,….hopeless.
Sonic lanterns! Of course! Why was no one listening to him?! He knew this one!
„Come on, Clara! You know that I speak Dinosaur.“
„He’s not Clara. I’m Clara.“
The pretty one, again.
Wait, why would he think that? That was odd, he didn’t think like that. Never mind that she was….that. And short. God, she was tiny, wasn’t she. How did she reach things? Did she carry a ladder with her...
„Well you’re very similar heights. Maybe you should wear labels.“
Oh yes, good one. Labels, he liked labels. They made things so much easier.
Easier to categorize. Differences. All this stuff, swimming in his head, so much, so much…a short skirt, cracks in a wall, fishfingers and custard…
„Why, why are you all doing that, why are you all going dark. Wobbly, stop that.“
Pictures, fragments, noise, so much noise. If he could just....
„I don’t think we are.“ Was that Clara now? They really DID need labels.
„Never mind! Everybody take five.“
And then, darkness.
His hand had felt so very cold in hers. So very unlike him. This wasn’t right. He was warm….he used to be warm.
But of course, this was not him anymore. Her best friend. Her Doctor. Something had gone terrible wrong.
„So what now?“, she asked.
„He needs rest.“
„But what do we do? How do we fix him?“
„Fix him?“
„How do we change him back?“
She just wanted him back. Clara could feel her eyes well up again and angrily shoved down the tears that were threatening to form.
She couldn’t be the only one thinking that. This wasn’t the Doctor. This was a stranger. He didn’t even remember her…
„Jenny, I shall be in my chamber. Would you be kind enough to fetch my veil?“
„Why? Are we expecting strangers?“
„It would seem there is already one here.“
Claras head was spinning. She didn’t understand,...she didn’t understand any of this. The gaping wound of grief was still so fresh that she barely had time to catch up with the rest of the world. She felt like she was bleeding inwardly.
„What have I done wrong?“
Jenny had no answers. As it turned out, all she brought Clara with her kind words and sad eyes were just more questions. She heard her leave and had never felt more alone then in this very moment, the faint screams of the Dinosaur roaring in the distance.
Why hadn’t he listened to her? She’d begged him not to change and against all the odds, against knowing full well that he had little control over his regeneration, she had hoped. Now though, Clara felt merely subdued. She didn’t know what to do and the only person she could have turned to for help, was gone.
„I am alone.“
Her head whipped around to this new, strange face, lying on the bed. His eyes were still closed.
„The world which shook at my feet, and the trees, and the sky, have gone, and I am alone.“
Her heart skipped a beat and she almost wept. Was he reading her mind?
And then, instantly, she felt foolish.
„Are you translating?“
His deep, gravely voice, continued:
„The wind bites now, and the world is grey, and I am alone. Can’t see me. Doesn’t see me.“
She realizes with a start that she is crying. A tear had escaped from her cheek and landed on his outstretched hand but he didn't falter.
„Can’t. See me.“
Clara inhales deeply and turns toward the window. Even though his eyes are closed, she feels as though he’s staring right into her very soul and a deep, unbidden shame takes hold of her.
This is not what was supposed to happen. She hadn’t been prepared for this. This grief. This loss. What was she going to do? How could he have trusted her with this? In all their adventures together, she had never thought....
The arrival of Strax pulls Clara out of her clouded mind and into the present. She moves to follow him but pauses at the door, suddenly uncertain.
Even now, even when she feels so far removed from the person lying in the bed, she hesitates to leave him. She feels endlessly tired in that moment, her bones weary and heavy. The cold touch of his hand wouldn’t leave her be.
What had he gone through? What will he go through?
And how could she, the way she was now, be of any use to him?