makemeasong | eastbound IC Inbox 💫

I don't think it matters if you know this, because I'm not saying when: In the time I've known you, you've had an amazing record of having your memories wiped somehow. I worry.

[ She pouts at him, trying her best to look threatening, but really she just looks like an exhausted, tiny bean of a woman. Clara knows it, too. But she can't let him forget that under normal circumstances, she's the boss. ]

Listen to me, Doctor. I have been through and I've seen too much for you to do anything so stupid that you forget me, or worse. Don't promise me anything, because you can't keep it. Just mean it when you say I'll see you soon.

[ She hasn't told him anything she thought she might about the fourth floor; she thought she would, but now with the occupants of the Mouse House in danger, it feels like there are more pressing things than what she saw — it wasn't even real. ]

[ Oh, Clara, try as you might, you couldn't ever be intimidating. Still, he's charmed and amused by her attempt, a fond smirk on his face.

Sitting beside her on the ground now, legs stretched out in front of him, he reaches over to tap her nose fondly. ]

Your face is doing a thing, it's really quite good, well done, but not terrifying in the least. We'll have to work on that.

[ Whoops, he didn't respond to her request, how about that. Avoid answering, Doctor, like always. ]

[ There may or may not be a whine from her, but the sure sign of her tiredness is not pushing the point. His words might be keeping her on the ground, but they don't take away all of her worry. ]

I can be terrifying.

[ She can try. She'll never be that, though. Authoritative, yes — someone has to keep the kids in line, and she includes the Doctor in that. In any case, when she unscrunches her nose, she meets his eyes. ]

It would be really rude of you to make me go through more emotional trauma than I already have, so you definitely need to tell me you'll try your best to get back here without getting gassed out of what few memories of me you have.

Edited 2022-11-10 00:13 (UTC)

To butterflies, maybe. Not even those, actually.

[ He does have at least enough awareness right now to recognize that she needs something more from him, and after everything that's happened, he owes her that, at least. So he softens, bumping her shoulder affectionately. ]

I always come back, Clara. One way or another.

Did something else happen, in that tower?

[ Clara looks at him and then away, swallowing. She goes to twist a ring on her finger that isn't there, so instead she fidgets with her own fingers. There's a lapse of silence before she finally decides on a version of the truth that she can share with him. ]

Before you found me, I meant to go up with others but the elevator was full. I didn't know the floors were random, I said I'd be right behind them.

[ And then, of course, she hadn't been. ]

It didn't stop until four floors up. It was confusing at first but only because it seemed so simple.

[ A lever, right there in the middle of the room. ]

Did you—do you know what was on that level?

[ No. Not that floor, that wretched floor. Of all of them, of everything he'd witnessed in that terrible tower, that floor unsettled him the most for what it did to his mind. Not just his, though. He could look past that if it were only himself, but it tore apart his friends - River, Clara, countless others. To prey upon their hearts and souls with malice, with no restraint, it's an evil unearthed that he can only just barely begin to understand. He rarely thinks of good and evil in such absolutes, but there's nothing else that fits.

Does he know? Unfortunately, he'd become all too acquainted with it, the tower sending him in a loop, back to that floor over and over again. Perhaps it took some particular delight in him, his power, his mind. He would have stayed there and allowed it to consume him if it meant the rest of them had been spared. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite think within his rational mind.

His answer is a simple one, not as talkative as he usually is. ]

Yes. [ A pause, because...what to say, how to ask? ] You weren't alone?

[ He knows the answer. She couldn't have been, and for that, he's grateful, to whomever stood by her side. ]

I was at first.

[ Clara considers skipping to the end, but instead, she goes to the start. He knows the ending, because she's sitting beside him. ]

When I moved toward the lever, suddenly it was like I was in the house I grew up in. And my mum, she was there, she was making breakfast, soufflés. But not just for me, for you too. And Sabine. Angie and Artie's mum.

[ At this point, she's pretty sure he knows she's taking care of children, and she knows herself, she would've told him their names by now, what happened. ]

Everyone who's ever meant more to me than anything. Right there in my mum's dining room. It wasn't until after I saw everyone that I realized I wasn't alone anymore. Wangji found me. He literally pulled me out because I didn't—

[ Clara swallows hard and looks at the Doctor, meeting his eyes briefly before looking down at her hands, trying not to cry. She's too exhausted to cry anymore. ]

I lost you all again.

[ He's grateful beyond measure; that's his first, immediate thought. Wangji was there with her, for her, and he owes the man his gratitude and utmost thanks. He'll be sure to speak with him soon.

Seeing the way she moves, the way she won't quite meet his eyes, he reaches out now to wrap his arm around her shoulders. ]

It gave you hope and then it took it away. The worst form of cruelty.

[ Clara lets herself lean against him, her head at rest; he may not know her the way he should, not yet, but he's still the same. The same feel, soothing voice, the perfect hug. The only thing different is the way he smells in Serthica — there's too much dirt, rust, and blood in the air. ]

There was a Dalek. [ Clara doesn't look up at him again, instead she presses herself closer, closing her eyes tightly. She can't tell him it was her, that she was in that Dalek, blaming him for not saving her. He doesn't understand her yet, her echoes, and she can't tell him, can't risk him stopping her in the future. There's no truth to what the room showed her anyway — she jumped into his time stream exactly for that reason. No part of her would ever blame him for her death, not if she did what she was meant to do. ]

I don't understand how things in my mind, how anyone's memories, can get taken this way and used against us. What was the point of making me watch a Dalek kill you all?

[ He doesn't need to be caught up with her memories to care for her, and he wants her to know and feel that. His care and love for his friends is limitless and fierce.

The mention of the Dalek makes him tense a little, dredging up painful memories. ]

The cruelty was the point, Clara. It's a game, a test, perhaps. I believe the purpose was to break us, but in the end, perhaps, it's had the opposite effect. It hurts, of course it does, but it's made us stronger, too. Look what we're doing right now, we're here together.

[ Clara reaches for his hand and holds onto him tightly. Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she looks up at him again. She isn't asking him not to go to the Mouse House, but she has to tell him she's worried. ]

After everything that happened in the tower, I'm really not that keen on you going down into a place where you'll be gassed until you leave. I know, I know, superior lungs and all-around biology. But nothing here plays by the rules.

[ He appraises her for a long moment, not saying anything at all, just contemplating her words and deciding not to react with his first instinct. She's afraid for him and he understands that in this world, that fear isn't entirely unfounded. Yet, he trusts his abilities in this case.

Still, he can make a concession. Squeezing her hand, he tries for a compromise. ]

I'm going down there, Clara, I have to. You know I do. But I'll text you, eh? Every hour. What do you say? If you don't hear from me once every hour, you have my permission to...raise hell - would that be the appropriate term?

[ He gives her a cheeky little smirk. ]

[ It's unexpected, the way her laugh bursts out of her, but laugh she does. When it dies down, she feels somewhat less tense, but not relaxed. ]

If you don't text me, if I don't hear from you, if you're even a second late, I'll do exactly what you gave me permission to do. People will be very annoyed.

Of course you would. Which is why I'll be perfectly on time. No! Not good enough - five minutes early. You'll be amazed.

[ He smiles again and pats her hand gently. ]

You look absolutely exhausted, by the way. When did you sleep last?

You have quite a knack for telling me when I look awful. Have you noticed that? [ Clara manages to eye him but he's also right. She doesn't answer the question though, not directly. ]

I'll sleep when you've come back. I can't miss my chance to let everyone know you're late when you inevitably are.

[ Shes hoping reverse psychology works on him or something, that the more she eggs him on about getting the timing off (which he has to admit happens frequently), the more punctual he'll be. ]

I'm an observer! I notice things.

[ They both know his talent for noticing things is questionable, at best, and inconsistent. But still, he does a very good job convincing himself otherwise. ]

I won't go until you've slept. So there; you'll have to now.

[ Clara looks up at him, searching his eyes and wanting to ask if he promises. She doesn't, because he promised her three times on that he wouldn't be anywhere without her, and three times he tricked her into going back to Earth while he stayed on Trenzelore. So, she doesn't say it. Instead, she huffs. ]

I'll wake up and you'll've already come back, half your memories gone. [ And no diary to shove in his face this time. ] Look, the kids are too important to wait, so at least say you'll try not to inhale too much or something. Can't you bypass something or other in there?

[ Clara gestures at his entire body. ]

You know, superior Time Lord physiology and all.

[ He gives her a crooked little smile before letting out a soft huff. ]

Trust me, Clara. I know what I'm doing.

[ Of course, he doesn't have the context of knowing he's broken multiple promises to her for her sake, to try and keep her safe. ]

[ Clara nearly laughs but instead she looks at the Doctor and holds his eyes. Many things are going through her mind as she stares at him, eyes narrowed. He has no clue what he's doing, that's the first thing. She does trust him, but not to come back in one piece and then tell her the truth about it. ]

Do you?

[ She continues to stare, like it's a quiet challenge, assessing him. ]

[ He opens his mouth to answer immediately, but the way she's narrowing her eyes at him, he's caught off guard and amused, by equal measure. He narrows his own eyes in return, though he looks more like a deer caught in headlights. ]

You doubt me?

[ Clara stares at him a second longer, then backs down, making a soft noise in the back of her throat. ]

Never. I doubt anything here being stable for long, and not being able to get to you if something happens.

[ His best laid plans never go accordingly, but he does always manage to fix things in the end. She might've been kidnapped, held hostage, or covered with some sort of unidentifiable substance by the end of it, but they'd always make it back to the TARDIS. ]

Nothing in Serthica knows or cares that you're you, and nothing plays by any rules we've ever seen before. You have to be careful, Doctor, more than usual.

[ Clara's entire expression changes, softens. ]

That's the only thing I'll make you promise. That you'll try to keep all of that in mind.

It's not your responsibility to get to me, Clara.

[ He reaches out, though, fondly tapping her nose. He knows, though. He knows she believes otherwise, that she's charged herself as his protector - much to his dismay (he doesn't need protecting!) and bewilderment. It's supposed to be the other way around; only the other way around. ]

But I can promise you that I'll be careful.

[ He absolutely does need protecting, and he's going to get said protection from a five-foot-no inches woman from Blackpool. Smiling softly at the tap, she wrinkles her nose affectionately. ]

Thank you.

[ She sighs softly and rubs her face with one hand. ]

I didn't know I could worry about so much at the same time. There's too much demanding attention at once up here. [ Her fingers tap the side of her head. ] Brain hardly knows where to start and focus.

[ That could also be because she's exhausted. ]

Welcome to my life. [ He smiles a little, in spite of everything. ]

Though, a simple and very small human brain generally isn't supposed to comprehend such an enormity of things all at once. It's taxing in a way it isn't for me.

[ Small brain in comparison to his, that is. ]

Can't shut that brain off, though, can you? I can.

[ She's never asked him to do anything like that for her before, soothe her mind, switch off her thoughts. Then again, neither of them has been in a situation like this together, either. It's never been so hard for her to sleep, not even when her mum died. ]

And do you think maybe you could stay, too? Just for a few minutes after I'm asleep.

[ It doesn't really matter one way or another because she'll never know. But she wants to at least think he's there, watching over her for a bit. ]

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