Open post/meme overflow 💫

[makemeasong]

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[sillyolddoctor]

Clara was in front of him.

And then she wasn’t, and the entire world pivoted, the cobbled floor and night sky arcing over him in a dizzying kaleidoscope of greys and blues.

For a moment the Doctor heard a distant ringing in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut but the sound persisted, and as everything blurred into reality, he realised it was a tram bell.

Pushing himself up off the floor, he quickly took in the scene.

—tram—
—bells—
—people—
—crying—
Clara.

The last thought sharpened everything into focus and he moved fast, covering the distance as he pushed his way through the small crowd. He could hear a voice saying “—didn’t see her, she came out of nowhere like a ghost she did! God almighty—” and guessed it was the driver.

“Give her room and get help,” he vaguely found himself ordering. He heard some babbling acknowledgment and the crowd eased, perhaps grateful or relieved for someone to take charge.

When he saw Clara, he knew it was too late. The red gently staining the cobbles, her shallow breaths, her closing eyes…

He then saw her turn to look at him and took a deep intake of breath, squared his shoulders and got ready to follow his number one rule.

Kneeling gently beside her, the Doctor smiled encouragingly, “Hey…” His voice was soft as he continued, “You know it’s cheating if you throw yourself in the path of a tram just to get out of an argument.”

He pushed a strand of hair from her bloodied face, “So how about you dust yourself off, I get us those chips and then you can continue shouting at me some more, eh?”

The Doctor smiled what he hoped was his most reassuring and twinkliest smile.

He knew she had minutes.

[makemeasong]

She's able to focus on him, and Clara still sees the memories from his time stream, but with better clarity than before. His words float somewhere in her mind but she knows she won't have fish and chips, so her mind files it temporarily as unimportant so that she can tell him what she needs to in the short amount of time she has left.

One hand is trying to reach for him, fingers grazing his cheek.

"Wasn't all bad. I saw silver grass picnics...red leaves year-round. Babies laughing."

There's a wheeze from her, death rattling in the back of her throat, but she doesn't look afraid and adds another word.

"Hope."

[sillyolddoctor]

Sometimes, but so rare that when it happened the universe stopped and forced the Doctor to take notice, time travel was possible without the science and magic of technology.

Clara’s words took the Doctor back to the days long since dead. He smelt grass kissed by a second sun’s dying light. He heard leaves rustle songs never to be heard again. He saw smiles lost to Time but burned into his memory…

“Hope…” he echoed, his voice still quiet, “Hope’s good. Hold onto that, Clara.”

[makemeasong]

Each breath is a little harder and she closes her eyes for long seconds before opening them again. "You too."

With everything Clara has left in her, as blood pools around her head, she looks right at him, one last flicker of light burning brightly.

"And run. Run you clever boy. And remember."

In these final seconds, she knows him, and she knows exactly what she is. The corners of her lips curve into a minute smile before her hand drops away from his cheek and her chest deflates for the final time. Her eyes close, and another echo becomes stardust.

Somewhere in the world and in a different time, another Clara Oswald looks up as a leaf blows by in the wind, swirling into the sky until it seems to disappear against the sun.

[sillyolddoctor]

One moment she was there.

And then she wasn’t, her dying words haunting him as her hand fell away and her eyes slowly closed for the final time.

For a long while the Doctor just knelt next to her, the only sound that of the dark waves rolling and crashing against the sands.

He wanted to stay longer than he did. He wanted to stay when onlookers dispersed. He wanted to stay when the policeman spoke to the ashen-faced tram driver. He even wanted to stay when they covered her body and took her away. He wanted to stay until time ran out and forced him to forget.

The Doctor carefully stood up and turned his back, working his way through the gathering, murmuring crowd.

The sea breeze tugged at his jacket again but there was a chill to it now. Something fluttered and settled on his shoulder and he realised the first few flakes of winter snow were beginning to fall.

He had wanted to stay for as long as he could but instead he turned and left and never came back.

Until one day he did.