makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

Clara's been watching intently, then smiles just a little, looking up at him.

[ Nothing that concerns me. Some questionable taste in there, though. She's teasing right back, but her voice gentles. ]

You kept yourself so alone, what would there have been to hide that I don't already know?

Questionable taste? Like what? [His head snaps back to her before looking back at his workbench.] Actually don't answer that. There are plenty of questionable things in there from past lives.

[He pulls out a small collection of precious stones, laid out on navy blue velvet. The Doctor picks one out - a stormy blue, almost black that seems to pulse every so often with a honeyed glow from deep within it. Deciding he likes it best he starts to work with it, shaping it into a bit of an octagon shape to keep it sturdy.]

Just checking. I know how curious you are.

I think the real skeletons are going to be in random rooms.

[ There's levity in her voice, but an undercurrent of seriousness as well. He's lived a very long life without her, and she expects it. ]

You never wanted to talk about any of your companions before. I sort of suspect there will be things you can already think of that you'd rather I not see.

[He looks up from his work only momentarily to meet her gaze hearing the seriousness to it. It would be easy for Clara to see from that look that her assumption is right and he looks away again after a minute.]

There might be some that come to mind. [He pauses.] Did you want to talk about them again?

Only one right now.

[ Clara looks at him, watching him as he works. When she speaks again her voice is soft. ]

When you were regenerating, you were talking to someone who wasn't there. Amelia Pond. The girl who waited, you said. What happened to her?

[The tool he's working with screeches against the stone for a second and he quickly kills it. The Doctor makes a point not to look at Clara. Amy had been the first face his eleventh one had seen. It had left an impression. A lasting one that still weighed heavy on him to this day.]

Amy...[He sighs, but at least when he speaks, there's a tenderness to it.] She and her husband Rory were friends of mine. Dear friends. We had all sorts of adventures, similar to the ones we had. They were River's parents. [He opens to mouth to say more but then stops.] What else did you want to know?

[ Their lives are timey-wimey, so the reveal about River's parentage doesn't surprise her. ]

What happened? When we first met - or when I thought we first met - you had this sadness that just...it never really went away.

[He doesn't remember the last time he spoke about Amy and Rory. Maybe he hadn't ever. Whenever loss happened people always said that speaking to someone - or doing anything healthy to cope with the grief - would help. But he had never really spoken about the loss he had gone through in his many lives. He didn't want to. All he did was run instead.

But this was them. If he wasn't going to talk about this with Clara, who was he going to talk about this with?]

We were in New York. We were getting ready to celebrate fixing a tricky time paradox and then Rory got whisked away by a Weeping Angel. Sent back in time. Amy followed of course. She loved him so why wouldn't she? But I couldn't save them. We knew when they had died it was in the cemetery we were standing in. It was a fixed point so I couldn't do anything.

[Clara knows why of course. The weight in his voice is palpable and his hands are idle, the stone lying on the velvet.] So I never saw them again.

[ Clara reaches out for his hands and kisses them both, bending over them and simply sheltering them between her bodies for a few moments. When she sits back up again, she reaches out to press her hand against his cheek. ]

I'm sorry. [ She uses a Gallifryen endearment for him and kisses him softly. ] I'm sorry that happened to them, to you, to River.

[ Clara's voice is soft as she speaks, everything in her tender. ]

[Instinctively he leans into Clara’s touch, letting the warmth from her lips spread across his body like a comfort blanket. He had always held himself so upright, so rigid and proud. But he melts into her as if she’s the sun and he’d do anything to be in her presence.

He doesn’t cry but his eyes become like pools, misting at the care she’s showing him. His voice is nothing but a low rumble now.]

I blamed myself for it for a long time. I still do. I wasn’t sure how to make it up to River or to them. And they told me not to travel alone but it felt like the only way to repent for what I had done. [He takes her hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.] And then I found you again.

[ She can't help but smile softly, just a little, at the kiss to her wrist. ]

You shouldn't travel alone, not ever. Now you never will again. H[ er thumb strokes his cheek softly, voice soft. ] And you don't have anything to repent for. I don't think Amy would think that. Or River.

I know they wouldn't. [He groans lightly but it's more a chuckle than anything else.] I can hear them scolding me now.

[He looks at her hand so delicate and slim in his before looking up at her again.]

I'm lucky to have you, Clara. [He was lucky to have met any of them - but he knows that goes without saying.]

Damn right you are.

[ She smiles at him, then kisses him gently before sitting back to let him continue his work. ]

Do you want to know what I thought the first time aia ever saw you?

'God that man has really angry eyebrows?' Or if you're talking about the other face, 'God that's a really big chin'?

[It's the first thing that comes to mind and he can't help but give her a very dry look as he picks up his tools again to continue with the stone.]

[ Clara laughs loudly, she can't help it. ]

I'm talking about the first time I ever saw you on Gallifrey you gob.

[ She laughs again. ] Do you want to know or not?

[He can't help but laugh along with her even as he pulls his goggles onto his face while he works the details of the stone.]

What do you think?

I thought you were so pretentious. You always liked to argue, with everyone who seemed to look your way. I watched you for a while, trying to figure you out before I finally talked to you. Of course I thought you were cute, that helped.

[ She gives him a lopsided grin. ]

So, when I did talk to you and you couldn't form a whole sentence, I thought you were offended I would even try. Once you found your words again though, I don't think we ever stopped talking. And I thought you were perfect for me. Exactly opposite from every other stuffy old Time Lord. Willing to dream with me and you never laughed at all the things I said I wanted to do. Only asked why I hadn't done them yet.

[ Her gaze is so fond and full of love as she watches her husband, resisting the urge to reach out to him now so that he can focus on the stone. ]

[His hands are preoccupied and he knows he needs to stay focused but he can still feel all of the love radiating from her whenever he does cast a glance up from his work.]

Pretentious? [He can't help but scoff fondly, the tips of his ears pink at her compliment.] Arrogant sure. But pretentious? But since we're on the topic - do you want to know what I thought of you?

Oh, I shudder to think.

[ Clara grins at him. ] Go on then, let's have it.

I thought you were annoying, bossing everyone around at the academy. You were so slight but had this presence about you. A command of the room in a way that I didn't. It wasn't a wonder that you were supposed to marry the President. You were like a light and we were just moths dancing around you.

[The Doctor knew he had always been a troublemaker, a spark of something too mischievous for typical Time Lord material. But he was brilliant and they knew it. That's why he became a Time Lord in the first place. And it was for that reason that even though he had thought all those things about Clara at first, he knew, somewhere in his bones, that together they'd be trouble. A force. It was maybe why he kept his distance but then ended up being sucked into her orbit.]

That's all quite fair. Though, I did eventually come to find out you love being bossed around.

[ She smirks smugly but then it fades into softness. ]

If I was a light, it was the moon, and you were my star. [ How's that for sap? ]

Look who's talking. [They both knew that they were attracted to people that could dish it back - well at least after they got over their respective annoyance.]

Do you hear yourself? [He can't help but laugh at the sap. As much as he hates it, it's grown on him.] But if I'm going to be anyone's star it might as well be yours.

[All that's left to do with the ring is set it which he makes quick work of. When it's done and cooled thank to Time Lord tech, he examines it with a pleased noise.] I think your ring is done. Do you want to see it now or should it be a grand gesture?

[For a moment he thinks he should take jewelry making up as a hobby - but then he brushes the thought away. The only person he'd want to make anything for is Clara and then she wouldn't have a place to put any of it. The ring is sized to her finger and it's a fine, cool metal that sparkles with stardust whenever you moved. It orbited the embedded precious gem like a nebula that pulsed every now and then with a golden, honey as if the stone were breathing]

[ She loves escalating the sap just to see how far she can push it. Will she actually cause his brain to blow? Laughing, Clara sits up straighter when he says the ring is done. ]

I want you to put it on my finger, that's all. No other grand gestures.

[ But she does get up from her seat and move to his lap, sick of not being close. it's been over an hour. ]

[He motions for her hand after she's made herself comfortable on his lap. The ring slips onto her finger, her lovely, glorious, finger and fits like a glove.

Pressing a kiss to her hand, he looks up at her, eyes full of adoration. His wife. His Clara.]

Do you like it?

[ She's staring at the ring and can't talk, so she has to nod as she tries to swallow around the lump in her throat. She again thinks about how close it was, that a few minutes of hesitation from him and the diner wouldn't have been there, and she would have been gone. All without ever knowing her husband had been in front of her all along.

When she feels like she might be able to make some sort of sound, she finally tells him what she thinks. ]

It's perfect. It's you. [ Clara's arms wind around him and she presses her face against his neck. ] I promise, you won't ever be alone again. I swear, Doctor.

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