makemeasong | time is a flat thing and we are always separating

[ Clara isn't sure what draws her back to the desert in America. She's been on her own for a while; Ashildr was good company, but they'd parted on good terms at least. It's possible she has an attachment because it's the last place she ever saw the Doctor, even knowing he won't ever walk back through that diner door.

There's no reason to, she isn't known anymore. No one knows her anymore. Not her dad, her friends, and not the person she most wants to. It makes her feels like she doesn't know herself. She's done things to remember: helped when she could, taught all over the universe by now, but she always comes back around to missing the Doctor like she misses the feel of her heart beating in her chest.

The desert has another benefit in being warm. With no blood pumping through her chest, she always feels a little cooler than she should, and she appreciates the heat. Every now and then a dusty road-tripper comes in and she listens to stories, giving away free meals 'on the house.'

Literally, her house.

When the door opens again, she turns and offers the woman who walks through a friendly smile, wiping down the counter. ]

You're a long way out in the middle of nowhere. Something to drink?

[It's been harder to find Clara Oswald than the Doctor had expected it to be. And she had expected it to be hard. The circumstances where she lost Clara to her fate, the odd mix of missing memory lost and then found. But found too late. And then the surfacing of a deeper memory, from far back, from the days when she'd only just begun to be the Doctor (though her recent discoveries about her own personal timeline lately have muddled so much up.)

How could she have forgotten her face? How could she have lost the memory from centuries and centuries ago, the first time she'd given her heart away and been given one in return. The Doctor will puzzle that out as well, but the revelation has made one thing clear. That she needs to find Clara, even if she knows she probably shouldn't.

She finds her, finally, in the most surprising place. When she rechecks the coordinates she almost wants to laugh, as she sees where it is. Of course she remembers the diner, remembers the frustration of not knowing at the time, the added frustration when she remembers much later and suddenly that memory has so much context.

So there's no stopping her. The TARDIS is parked far enough away that it won't draw notice, that there won't be a chance of Clara hearing her coming. She still doesn't know what she's doing here. Clara won't know her face, not this one. It's safe to check in on her, to see her, right? But oh the Doctor know that won't be enough.

And it isn't. She steps through that door and is struck immediately, a full on body blow, by that smile.]

I've been to much worse nowheres. [Her Clara. The Doctor makes her way to a seat at the counter, looking across at the other woman, eyes roaming her face. There are the beginning, there are so many beginnings and so many ends. It is physically painful not to reach out. Instead she folds her hands.] A milkshake would be brilliant.

[ For now, Clara is blissfully (or not) unaware of who she's been tasked to make a milkshake for, but she does jut out a hip, one hand resting there and the other coming up so that she can tap her lips with a finger. ]

You look like you're a big fan of chocolate. If I'm right, milkshake's free.

[ It would be anyway, but she bites her lip as though she genuinely wants to be correct. She doesn't get to flirt often, and it makes her feel a little alive for a second. It seems, no matter what, the Doctor always catches her eye. ]

I am today.

[Clara is unaware and the Doctor is far too aware. As long as it has been -- and it has been far, far too long -- Clara is exactly as she remembers her, not a single detail less shining, less bright than it was the last time.

Well, she should have expected that.]

How'd you know? [It's a playful question.] Are you a mind reader?

[ Clara preens a bit, then turns to make the milkshake. She gives it a few seconds before answering, looking over her shoulder. ]

Only when it comes to gorgeous tourists.

[ There's no harm in it, she thinks. It's innocent flirting, and she'll likely never see this person again. ]

What are you doing all the way then? Headed to Vegas?

[ Most people are when they drive through here. Either coming or going. ]

Tourist?

[She scoffs, but it's largely to cover the fact that she is more charmed than she has any right to be by the playful flirting, the faintest tinge of pink in her cheeks.]

Never really know where I'm going until I get there. [She admits, but doesn't admit that she is exactly where she was headed, that the course she had charted was set by this woman like a true north star.]

Your turn. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?

[ Setting the milkshake down, Clara begins to clean up from the last person who left. ]

Dunno, something about it. I get to hear all sorts of stories. Maybe I'm hoping one day someone will walk through that door and ask me to go on an adventure with them.

[ There's such a deep longing in her eyes at that, and she actually looks toward the door as if words alone could summon the Doctor through that door. If only she knew. Shaking it off, she exhales, smiling at the stranger. ]

Do you like to travel then?

[The words draw an ache in her chest, blooming all at once. The way that Clara looks off with that longing, longing and not nearly enough hope. The Doctor could do it, couldn't she? Sweep her off again, hold on tighter this time.]

Would you go? Just pop off like that. No looking back?

[Even still? Even after everything?

Her fingers wrap around the milkshake, urging it closer and sipping at it, nodding her approval at it.]

Love it. I can't imagine stopping.

[And where would she go if she did? She has no home to return to, no home but the TARDIS and the timestream. It was missing something though, to really be a home, missing someone.]

It gets a bit lonely at times.

Without hesitating.

[ She doesn't hesitate to give that answer, either. What the woman says catches Clara's attention, and when she's wiped her hands clean, she leans on the counter on her elbows. ]

You travel alone? I'd say that seems dangerous, but I've just gone and said I'd run away with someone.

[ Even if she means a very specific someone, it must sound crazy to someone else. ]

It sounds like maybe both of us could use a better sense of danger.

[It's how quick that answer comes though. She really had thought she could come here, could check in and see that Clara was whole and okay and still Clara, and then turn and leave. No harm done, not even the smallest ripple in their divergent paths through the universe.]

But I don't always travel alone. I've found friends along the way. Lost some too.

[ It sounds so familiar that it takes Clara's breath away for a second. But just like two faces ago never told her how regeneration worked to begin with, she's no idea he could regenerate into the woman in front of her. It would never occur to her. So, she feels safe telling a story about the Doctor, as she often does because it's like a balm on a wound that always feels fresh. ]

I've got a friend, travels all around, one of the smartest blokes I know. He said to me once that some people are only meant to be in our lives a little while and that it's alright to be sad, 'cause it means we were happy.

[ Managing a smile, it's small but warm. ]

You'll find another person to travel with, trust me. Everyone wants an adventure, deep down.

There it is. [The Doctor nods, agreeing with herself -- which is not at all lost on her.] You're right though. Joy and sorrow are two sides of the same concept, neither one possible without the existence of the other.

[Another sip of her milkshake before she adds quietly.] At least we still have our memories.

[And she does have hers now, remembers every moment.]

Maybe not everyone. But the right people do. That's just it though. I'm looking for someone in particular. I lost her a long time ago, and I think it's the biggest mistake I've ever made.

[ Clara's features soften at that, she can understand it. She regretted the Doctor losing all memory of her the moment it happened and cried until she'd had nothing left. She still does, sometimes, even now. Losing him has been worse than anything that happened on Trap Street. ]

And your girl, she's somewhere here, in the States? Know where?

[ Maybe she could help, and it's ironic, because she's thinking about offering this person the chance of a lifetime by inviting her to walk through the back door. ]

Close by I think. She's not so easy to track down. Not that I can blame her for being on the move.

[She's mostly just playing with the straw in the milkshake now, something to do with her hands while she looks over at Clara.]

At first I thought I'd just get a look at her, make sure she's well. Happy. No reason to derail her life again.

[That would be the responsible thing to do, wouldn't it?] But now I'm thinking maybe I'll ask her to run away with me again, give me a second chance.

Do you think she'd say yes?

[ She feels so invested in this stranger's story, and she knows it's because it's what she wishes every day. She may be projecting, but she wants someone to be happy, someone to have the person they want. ]

Never mind that question, you should find her. You deserve to know for sure.

[ Clara gives her best encouraging smile, resiting the urge to reach over and squeeze a perfect stranger's arm. ]

I hope she will. You ever miss someone so much it feels like an entire color's been stripped right out of your world? Everything looks duller, less real.

[Because it has. There is something about Clara, the woman who threw herself straight into her timestream, risked everything without hesitating. Who was with her through some of her worst days and many of her best.]

Thanks.

[A smile of her own in return.] I think she might've come through here. Maybe you've seen her.

She's small and bossy, but she has this smile that can stop a heart or two cold. Dark hair. [Ask her how she knows.] She's clever and kind and she's beautiful.

[ Clara has no idea what it feels like to be happy anymore; she's had moments of feeling happy she helped someone, or that she was successful at doing something, but it never lasts. It's like chasing a unicorn in the wind, and so she understands the stranger. ]

I've felt that way.

[ She confirms it but doesn't go into much detail. Her back is turned washing her hands free of residual stickiness when the woman goes on. She's prepared to let her down easy, because Clara remembers every face that comes through her diner. Clara smiles at small and bossy, because sure, that could've been anyone. But then this strange, pretty woman keeps going and Clara goes still.

Obviously it isn't the Doctor, so she tells herself. But that phrasing, a heart or two, pings around Clara's mind. Is someone playing a trick on her? If so it's cruel, and the first name that comes to mind is Missy. Slowly, Clara turns and looks at the woman, guarded now. ]

Beautiful, huh? You sound biased.

[ There's no more lightness in her voice, studying the stranger intently. ]

[The Doctor knows she's treading dangerous ground here. A few more steps onto it and there will be no going back, no slipping from the door and leaving Clara to live the rest of her life, content to know she's alive (such as it is) and well.

She can see the change in Clara's posture even before she turns around, hear the guarded edge to her words. Always clever, her impossible girl. The Doctor sits up from the slouch she'd settled into on the counter stool. In that moment she sheds some of that veneer of casual humanity slips from her, and she's a little too still, the light in those eyes far too old to be looking out from such a young face.]

I am. [She agrees, her voice having lost its playful edge as well, quiet and serious now.] Hard not to be, as many times as she's saved me.

[She meets those clear, dark eyes and holds that gaze.]

[ Clara's non-functioning heart knows before her mind can wrap itself around what's happening. Her eyes are wide in silent shock, lips parted for words that are stuck in her throat. ]

No.

[ It's the first sentence that slips out and it's hoarse, on the edge of tears. ]

This isn't possible. You aren't possible.

[ She has to reach out to hold onto the counter, feeling like her legs might stop working any second. ]

Who are you? Why are you doing this?

[ Her mind won't let go of thinking it's a trick or a trap, unknowingly echoing the Doctor's past fears over what she was. ]

Neither are you, my impossible girl.

[She can hear the unshed tears in Clara's voice and it hurts to hear, a twisting sensation in her chest.][The distrust she sees in the other woman pains too, but she can understand it, maybe a little too well, remembers those days when she hadn't known what to make of Clara. It's not so different now. By all rights the Doctor shouldn't be here, shouldn't be able to be here. But who made those rules anyway?]

I've been trying so hard to find you. Didn't figure it'd be here again, of all places. Maybe I should've done.

[ Clara makes a sound in the back of her throat somewhere between a gasp and a sob, covering her mouth with her hands. The counter is still between them and as she stares at the woman in front of her, she knows it's true. It's always been the Doctor's eyes that Clara would know anywhere. ]

How?

[ The distance between them is too much and she walks around, never taking her eyes off of this person who is the Doctor. Her Doctor as much as she's theirs, no matter the face, no matter when in time. ]

Did you—did you die?

[ Die, regenerate, her brain knows the technical differences but doesn't bother. She looks horrified at the realization that it's the only reason the Doctor has a new face. ]

[She slides from the stool to her feet, watching Clara approach. Every last cell in her body is screaming at her to reach out, to take the other woman into her arms and hug her hard enough to make up for all the time since they last saw one another.]

I did. Almost for good, before I had some sense knocked into me.

[She admits, because if anyone deserves the honesty it's Clara. Really, it all could've been worse, really. She'd been ready for it all to just be over for a stretch. But more importantly.]

That's when I remembered you. [Not just the lack of her.]

I have missed you so much, Clara Oswald.

[She holds a hand out towards her, tentative, an offer.]

[ The Doctor doesn't have to worry for long about whether or not Clara will step forward. She's practically flinging herself into the other woman's arms just as the dam breaks on the sobs she's been trying to keep at bay.

She didn't even cry when she was dying, not like this, but she's too tired to keep being brave right now, and she's too full of tears. She's an absolute mess, clinging, holding on as tightly as she can.

When they begin to taper off she finally pulls back, but not away. ]

You found me. You found me.

[ She has to repeat it, she needs this to be real, which prompts her to ask. ]

Is this real? This has to be real.

[ If she wakes up from this dream, she isn't sure she'll be able to get out of bed again. ]

[There. This. This is exactly where Clara should be. The Doctor winds her arms around the other woman tightly, holding her with a sense of relief that is unmistakable. Those sobs, those tears, they claw at her chest, but at least now she can hold her through them. Her fingers move in soothing patterns across Clara's back, giving her this moment Waiting.]

I found you. You didn't make it easy. But I found you.

[And she does not intend to lose her again now.] You feel real to me.

[Clara is right. It has to be real. The Doctor might break as well, if it turns out to be a dream.]

[ Sniffling and wiping her cheeks with her thumbs, she has to simply look at the Doctor. There's so much to process and she has no idea where to start. ]

I'm sorry.

[ It isn't what she thought, but then she's crying again. ]

I didn't want you to forget, I didn't want it as soon as I knew it was happening to you.

[ Hiccupping, she makes an effort to stop crying again, and though she doesn't need to, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. ]

I missed you so much.

[The Doctor shakes her head, and this time it's her hands that rise to settle against Clara's face, thumbs brushing aside those newly fallen tears. She hesitates only a moment before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.]

I'm sorry too. For so many things.

[And they both had known the potential outcomes, had both acted with eyes wide open. It hadn't made it hurt any less, and the Doctor would be lying to pretend that finding these memories once more had been painful, at knowing just what she had lost.

Her expression softens, achingly fond.] I missed you too.

[The words don't cover it, don't fully encompass it. Missing, yes, but felt like some critical part of herself was simply gone.]

Run away with me?

[ Clara lets out a watery laugh, nodding even as she finally composes herself enough to finally agree aloud. ]

I'll go anywhere with you. [ She pauses before adding: ] Fancy a bit of a drastic change?

[ Already, she's reaching for the Doctor's hand, not knowing what will happen. All that she knows is that she's still running, but this time, maybe, toward something. What she does know, is that she won't be making it to Gallifrey anytime soon. ]

Edited (i hated my tag so i added to it lmao) 2023-02-05 15:37 (UTC)

[Somehow, even if she'd known the answer, even if Clara had said as much, there's still a wash of relief through the Doctor at those words.]

Anywhere is exactly where I'm headed.

[Anywhere and everywhere. She reaches out to take that hand in hers, fingers curling around Clara's securely. There's more than this she needs to tell her, but this is a start.

A start that she's apparently taking the next step on as she lifts their joined hands so she can press a kiss to the back of Clara's hand.] You know me, always up for change.

[ It would take her breath away if she had any, that small gesture; she thinks of those last moments on Trap street. Then, she remembers all of the moments after four and a half billion years. They'd had their privacy, and she'd said things that she'd swore she would never repeat, ever. Not unless there were to the Doctor.

She never imagined then, she would be here now with another chance. There's no pulse beneath that wrist, but does it matter? ]

Doesn't matter what changes. As long as I still have you.

[ She's come so far since the first regeneration. Those words come out a little watery, but she's smiling and gladly, willingly, leaves her sad, soulless life behind. Her TARDIS will take care of itself, and it isn't as though she won't know where to find it. ]

[The lack of pulse is a reminder, but Clara is still here. Clara is smiling at her and the Doctor can't find it in her to sink into guilt just now, far too buoyed by the relief and happiness at finding her Clara after all this time.]

You have me. You always have. Always will.

[A little tug.]

Come on. It's not a long walk, but I parked a little ways away.

[ Clara follows, lacing their fingers together so that their palms press flat. There's so much she wants to ask, things she wants to say. It's been a long time; her own eyes have age behind them now, though she looks as youthful as ever. Silently, she wonders how long it's been since that last time in the 'diner.'

She's quiet all the way to the TARDIS, trying to wrangle all of her thoughts. It isn't until they're inside the old girl with the door closed that she finally speaks, lips tugging down in a gentle frown. ]

It's darker.

[ Clara turns to face the Doctor, studying her intently. It isn't so much what the TARDIS looks like, as it is she's worried over what the changes mean. Or, she could be blowing things out of proportion, it's been known to happen. Sometimes. ]

You weren't alone, were you?

At the end.

[She answers softly as she makes her way up towards the console, shrugging out of her coat to drape it over a rail, turning to face Clara again. Given how everything had gone, it was better that she'd been by herself for that change.]

But not at the beginning. [Which had helped, immediately falling straight into a group of new friends. But she looks around at the TARDIS, considering.]

I guess it is. I love it, really.

[She offers a smile and holds a hand out to Clara once more, beckoning her closer.]

You're fretting.

[ Automatically, Clara takes that offered hand and steps close, ale to look right into eyes she feels like she's known all of her life. Maybe she has, going all the way back to the moment the Doctor stole the TARDIS. A part of her, always saving her Doctor.

Offering a somewhat sheepish smile, she squeezes the other woman's hand in her own. ]

When do I not? I've been fretting for over a century while I bop around the universe.

[ Reaching out, her fingers lightly brush away hair from the Doctor's cheek. ]

What do you mean 'at the end?'

Fretting'll give you wrinkles.

[The Doctor informs even if they both know that in Clara's case, that is not only untrue but absolutely impossible.

The Doctor looks back into those eyes, and Clara doesn't even know the full extent of how much she's saved her. Those memories so recently broken open, of those same dark eyes looking into hers when they were the eyes of another man, centuries and centuries ago.

She finds herself turning into the incidental brush of those fingers at her cheek.]

When I regenerated this last time. It was a bit messy. I put it off for too long, tried to stop the process. Right stubborn bastard that I was being at the time. When I finally let it happen, it made a mess of the TARDIS. More so than usual.

[ At the words they both know are untrue, Clara makes a soft noise in the back of her throat. She doesn't care what she is anymore, as long as she's here now, with the person she loves.

Her features drop when she gets further explanation, and she can't help herself reaching out to hold onto the other woman somewhere, deciding to reach out with both hands to cradle her face. ]

Why didn't you want to regenerate? Why were you fighting it?

[ She doesn't like thinking about it, a universe without the Doctor in it. A universe where she would've still existed without the person she loves co-existing in space with her. ]

[The Doctor goes still at the touch of those hands, but makes no attempt to move away from them or discourage the touch. On the contrary she needs it, the reassurance of the reality of this moment.

But Clara has asked her a question.]

I lost too much, I think. I was sick of the loss, the changing.

[A faint flicker of a smile.] Forgot for a bit that and end means there's no more loss, but there's no more finding either.

[This new her, oh the pain and the loss are still there, buried deep and worn on her sleeve at the same time. But there's a hope that's reemerged, a readiness to marvel at a universe that still holds so much wonder in it.

And no bigger wonder than the woman in front of her.] Maybe I needed the reminder.

[ Clara wishes she could promise there would be no more loss, no further grief to hurt either of them. But life isn't that way, and it wouldn't be fair. Instead, she strokes her thumbs across the Doctor's cheeks and manages a small smile. ]

I'm gonna be pretty annoying about making sure you never forget again.

[ It feels like if she drops her hands, she'll lose a warmth she's craving, and so instead of that, she presses their foreheads together lightly. ]

I was lonely without you, I understand why you've always traveled with someone. After Ashildr and I parted ways, I didn't want anyone else. Not for more than a go at a time, I mean. I realized after a while, it didn't feel the way I kept hoping it would.

Already with the threats.

[Her tone is light, but there's a flash of gratitude in her eyes that is unmistakable for anyone who knows her. And if anyone does, it's Clara.

She's glad the touch lingers, and her own hands find purchase at well, one wrapping around Clara's waist -- a far more intimate and possessive touch than she'd ever allowed herself before, well, at least in recent history, the other lifting to slip fingers into soft, dark hair.]

The universe is a big, empty place to be alone. [A pause and her voice is quieter when she speaks again.] Neither of us is alone anymore. Welcome home, Clara.

[ It's so easy to fall into the act of finally being the way they want to be with one another. It feels like they always have done, though Clara has no idea how true that is.

Easily, even despite the fact they're much closer in height now, Clara folds herself against the Doctor, tucking her arms between them and resting her head against the other woman's chest. If anything, her breast makes for a much more pleasant experience. ]

There. Now I'm home. Although, it's good to be on the TARDIS again. I missed her, too. [ Clara's quiet, listening to the double heart beat beneath her ear for a few seconds. ]

Now what do we do? I'm technically still—

[ She cuts herself off; no need to say the last word aloud. They know. ]

[Those words shake a soft smile out of her, feeling both hearts surge with warmth. The Doctor hesitates only a moment before leaning forward to press her face to Clara's head, nuzzling into that soft hair. Her eyes fall mostly shut.

The Doctor feels like she's come home too, for the first time in a long time.]

You are. Technically.

[Though her own twin hearts are beating, Clara's is not.]

We find a solution. [Has the Doctor learned her lesson? No, not at all. But she's at least ready to find a less, well, brute force desperate route.]

[ Clara sighs softly with contentment at how close they are; she thinks they were close to this before it all went so wrong on Trap Street. She was allowed to touch without asking, and when she hugged, she was hugged in return. They would have gotten to this, she knows it.

For a few moments, there's only quiet as the Doctor's words hang in the air. The last solution nearly came at the cost of the universe. When she speaks again, there's a crack in her voice that sounds nearly pleading. ]

You can't leave me again. Please, don't ever leave me again.

[ There'd be no debating about going to Gallifrey then to turn herself in. She doesn't want this anymore without the woman currently holding her. ]

time is a flat thing and we are always separating

𝑓𝑜𝑟 @𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑙

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sadly time for bed for this old lady but trust me when I say I HELD OUT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE

haha I feel that, not long for the waking world myself. sleep well! <3

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sorry for the delay, headache murdered me yesterday

oh no D: I hope you're feeling better <3 (and never a need to apologize!)

much better thanks <3

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