It's over an hour before she hears back; perhaps he'd been busy, or perhaps that's how long it had taken him to craft an appropriate reply over text, a medium he generally avoids. For this reason. ]
Are you going somewhere?
[ #nailedit. And only thinks to add a moment later: ]
[Oh, and of course he doesn't know, this is just what she does. Clara Oswald runs. One of his old quirks that she picked up, during the now-lost years with him.
It feels like she's talking to a stranger, now more than ever. Text is a blessing under such a circumstance; she doesn't have to search for the concern that he lacks the experience to feel.]
i need to clear my head
[She's going to go take her anger out unhealthily.]
don't let pudding overeat, he gets one scoop twice a day and shelley's a flight risk so don't leave the door standing open unless she's leashed
[ He's spent the past couple months taking thorough note of Everything Clara: how she speaks, what her expressions probably mean, her tics, her hobbies, how she takes her tea. All in an effort to understand, again...
sometimes, he feels he's made some progress, but a message like this is beyond him. "Clear her head"? That could be code for anything. Is she the sort to seclude and brood, or distract herself with drinking, or danger, or something else entirely?
He can really only guess. Useless. ]
OK, got it
Is this a quiet or a reckless head clearing? Should I spend the next few days worrying?
[ So he might as well just try to establish that now. ]
[Those words bring a funny sort of sorrow to her chest, and she has to close her eyes against a fresh wave of self-pitying tears. He truly doesn't know. There is no one left in this world who knows her. She's a stranger to the Doctor, and her remaining sisters-in-law don't care, and that's it. Her entire world here was built around Cosima.
Right now, she's very much leaning towards reckless. It's the only way she knows how to deal with loss anymore.]
no, i'll be fine i just need to get away from this house maybe to her sister's place in nonah
back door's unlocked for you don't eat anything that looks homemade
[Most of her own dishes died in their infancy on the stove, but there are a few tupperwares left of questionable kitchen creations. And pot brownies. There are definitely pot brownies.]
i appreciate your concern but this is just how i deal with things in a few days i'll be back home and right as rain no need to go grey over me
[She knows that it's crap, that it won't put him off her trail, but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't at least try to lie about her emotions.]
look, i know that you've been trying really hard and i'm always glad to have you back but our entire relationship got erased, doctor you weren't just my best friend, you were a whole part of me that got ripped away you and cosima and sarissa knew my deepest secrets, my most vulnerable parts, and now no one does i'm a stranger to everyone who's left that feels very alone
[Is it crying more metal if you're doing it while getting ready to ride your motorcycle? Clara spends awhile just sitting on the back steps of her house, Shelley barking at her from inside, helmet in one hand and face in the other. There's a miserable pit in her stomach that she can't imagine ever filling. Her head says to let the Doctor help, but her heart wants to tear away and rage.
It's more than half an hour until the next message.]
the christmas i got you the guitar, it was because i'd run off for three weeks i just rode my motorcycle up and down the coast because it was easier than coming home and telling you that something bad had happened to me the guitar was an apology when cosima and i had our first fight i ran off to the mountains of tennessee to hunt monsters and when you left last summer i solved a ring of armed robberies i suppose we both run from our grief maybe you're where i learned it
i don't know how to talk to you about it because i don't know what to say you saved my life, gave me a future even if it's a peculiar one and here i am, running so i won't think about how badly i want it to all be over
[ During that half hour, he wanders Heropa, considers heading back to De Chima, wonders if he might still be able to catch her before she goes. Wonders if that would only send her running further.
He eventually decides it probably might.
But the moment she sends that last sentence, he starts making his way to De Chima regardless. ]
I haven't run in a long time
[ He's had to stop.
His inability to cope with grief was the reason they're in this predicament at all, isn't it. So he had to change, become the sort of person who can grieve, because he can accept that things always end. Who's set out photos of his loved ones where he must face them every day, and find some comfort in it.
There are times he even believes it's better that way. ]
You might have noticed, I'm a very poor role model Learn from my mistakes, Clara
i've got plenty of my own to learn from, thanks you remember what happened the last time i tried to be like you
[She's not sure if he does, not she's not launching into it.
In any case, she's not sure what else to say to him. She's just dropped the biggest bomb, the fact that she's had trouble accepting his little gift of immortality. The fact that just living is a burden sometimes. Still sitting on her back stairs, watching for the twenty-four hour mark and the signal to head to Sarah's, she puts the phone down and waits.]
The thing is, he doesn't know what else to say to her, either. Not like this. Too removed, too impersonal. If there was any way to impart the desire to fully embrace an unending life over text, well...
she's not the only one who could use that text, to be honest. ]
[It's right about this time that Mary Shelley plods out of the kitchen and over to the Doctor, to try and stick her big wet nose in his pockets. Clara almost breaks a smile at this, and moves to usher her away.]
Well, the dog likes you so I guess I have to say you're my friend too.
[Clara follows him, as she always has, as she always would given the choice.
The screened back porch overlooks a sprawling, green yard, sloping down the edge of a sparse wood. Everywhere, there are the detritus of her life with Cosima - two pairs of rain boots by the mat, two Adirondack chairs facing the screened wall, an ashtray and a calculator next to a regency romance novel and a box of Clara’s favorite biscuits. Clara passes them all to open the door, letting the Doctor pass her and head out into the yard.]
[ His eyes sweep over all of it, but he continues without comment into the backyard.
He plops down on the nearest solid surface outside the door, and stares skyward at the small smattering of visible stars. It's become habitual over this past mainly-sedentary century, stargazing— it's no substitute at all for travel, of course, but there's a comfort in it all the same.
With or without him, the universe spins madly on.
He doesn't take his eyes off it. After a long moment, he asks, ]
[Her voice is softer now, under the stars. Seeing the night sky above her is like having ground under one's feet. It reminds her that everything she loves - everything wonderful - is still out there, waiting for her.]
I met her once, actually. And I know you stayed with her for awhile after I left.
[She was glad to learn that. More than anything, she had worried herself sick over how he'd fare alone.]
[ Somehow, that doesn't surprise him. He just nods. Taps his foot in the grass. ]
One very, very long night. [ He lets out a slow breath and leans back, ]
Our last together. I'd known it would be, and I'd been running from it... but it caught up to me eventually, when I least expected it.
Any night could be the last, every Christmas is last Christmas. [ —he'd picked that phrase up somewhere, doesn't think anything of it, ] But she'd believed that "happily ever after" was found in the time you have together, however short or long.
[Clara tips forward and rests her head on her knees, considering his words.]
... But then it's over. It's always over.
[Again, and again, and again. She's getting so tired of it.]
I'm thirty-one, and I've already lost three people I wanted to stay with forever. How many more will that be by the time I go back to Gallifrey?
[She can feel her voice rising. The neighbors' lights are all too present in the corners of her eyes. Where the hell is the vacuum of space when you need it?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text.
my wife’s left
sorry you two never got to meet
can you look after my animals for a few days
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It's over an hour before she hears back; perhaps he'd been busy, or perhaps that's how long it had taken him to craft an appropriate reply over text, a medium he generally avoids. For this reason. ]
Are you going somewhere?
[ #nailedit. And only thinks to add a moment later: ]
I can
no subject
It feels like she's talking to a stranger, now more than ever. Text is a blessing under such a circumstance; she doesn't have to search for the concern that he lacks the experience to feel.]
i need to clear my head
[She's going to go take her anger out unhealthily.]
don't let pudding overeat, he gets one scoop twice a day
and shelley's a flight risk so don't leave the door standing open unless she's leashed
no subject
sometimes, he feels he's made some progress, but a message like this is beyond him. "Clear her head"? That could be code for anything. Is she the sort to seclude and brood, or distract herself with drinking, or danger, or something else entirely?
He can really only guess. Useless. ]
OK, got it
Is this a quiet or a reckless head clearing? Should I spend the next few days worrying?
[ So he might as well just try to establish that now. ]
no subject
Right now, she's very much leaning towards reckless. It's the only way she knows how to deal with loss anymore.]
no, i'll be fine
i just need to get away from this house
maybe to her sister's place in nonah
back door's unlocked for you
don't eat anything that looks homemade
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but he kinda feels like that's a lie.
...And that last bit's awfully specific. ]
Bad cook?
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[Most of her own dishes died in their infancy on the stove, but there are a few tupperwares left of questionable kitchen creations. And pot brownies. There are definitely pot brownies.]
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mostly you and i ate takeaway
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[ Presumably.
Not that he doesn't still largely just eat carryout. ]
If the alternative is storing hazardous materials in your kitchen, let me help
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there isn't even anyone to cook for now
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But he's
avoidinggetting off topic, isn't he. Several minutes later, ]Needing time alone is understandable. But don't feel as though you are alone here.
Talk to me.
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i appreciate your concern
but this is just how i deal with things
in a few days i'll be back home and right as rain
no need to go grey over me
[She knows that it's crap, that it won't put him off her trail, but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't at least try to lie about her emotions.]
look, i know that you've been trying really hard
and i'm always glad to have you back
but our entire relationship got erased, doctor
you weren't just my best friend, you were a whole part of me that got ripped away
you and cosima and sarissa knew my deepest secrets, my most vulnerable parts, and now no one does
i'm a stranger to everyone who's left
that feels very alone
no subject
You were a part of me, too
[ They've got matching holes in their hearts. ]
That's why I'm asking you to talk to me. We're not strangers. I just
need reminding.
I'm sorry. I don't like it either.
no subject
It's more than half an hour until the next message.]
the christmas i got you the guitar, it was because i'd run off
for three weeks i just rode my motorcycle up and down the coast because it was easier than coming home and telling you that something bad had happened to me
the guitar was an apology
when cosima and i had our first fight i ran off to the mountains of tennessee to hunt monsters
and when you left last summer i solved a ring of armed robberies
i suppose we both run from our grief
maybe you're where i learned it
i don't know how to talk to you about it because i don't know what to say
you saved my life, gave me a future even if it's a peculiar one
and here i am, running so i won't think about how badly i want it to all be over
no subject
He eventually decides it probably might.
But the moment she sends that last sentence, he starts making his way to De Chima regardless. ]
I haven't run in a long time
[ He's had to stop.
His inability to cope with grief was the reason they're in this predicament at all, isn't it. So he had to change, become the sort of person who can grieve, because he can accept that things always end. Who's set out photos of his loved ones where he must face them every day, and find some comfort in it.
There are times he even believes it's better that way. ]
You might have noticed, I'm a very poor role model
Learn from my mistakes, Clara
no subject
you remember what happened the last time i tried to be like you
[She's not sure if he does, not she's not launching into it.
In any case, she's not sure what else to say to him. She's just dropped the biggest bomb, the fact that she's had trouble accepting his little gift of immortality. The fact that just living is a burden sometimes. Still sitting on her back stairs, watching for the twenty-four hour mark and the signal to head to Sarah's, she puts the phone down and waits.]
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The thing is, he doesn't know what else to say to her, either. Not like this. Too removed, too impersonal. If there was any way to impart the desire to fully embrace an unending life over text, well...
she's not the only one who could use that text, to be honest. ]
That's why I'm advising against it
[ The running. Adding, ]
I hate texting
[ As he ports over. ]
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you know, you even had emojis all figured out before you left
got a lot to catch up on
[Listen to all this jovial bullshit. She’s got it about mastered.]
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I know how to use those!
🤨 < see?
But maybe I don't want to. I was almost killed by one recently, you know.
[ Why would she. know that. ]
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and no, i absolutely do not
you'll have to tell me about that sometime
[When she's not sitting in the dark at 4:00 AM having a personal crisis, she means.]
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Well it shows up on mine!
Remind me later. There are a lot of things I could tell you about.
A trade, an adventure for an adventure.
[ Certainly not trying to keep her typing as he makes his way over to her house. ]
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i'll be sure to rustle up the least mortifying things i can
[No, she's absolutely going to tell him about when they got kicked out of Olive Garden. That was sure an adventure.]
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Though I'm sure you haven't got any mortifying ones about me
[ As he very stealthily sonics the lock to her front door. ]
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[That’s when she hears the telltale buzz of a sonic device, around the front of the house from where she’s seated on the back porch.]
wait
are you here??
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No
Maybe
[ Confirmation that she's here still! Though when he peeks inside, he doesn't see her. Hm. ]
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I'm fine, Doctor. I didn't need you to invade my privacy.
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Softly, ] No, you're not, but that's okay. Nobody would be.
I can leave— but if you're going to sit here in the dark, in the middle of the night, you at least don't have to do it alone.
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I was heading to Sarah's.
[A non-answer. It's been twenty-four hours, but she was unwilling to give up the wait just yet.]
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When?
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[A scathing exaggeration, of course.]
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Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll do that. Let's see.
[ He finally pulls away from the front door and strides up to her. ]
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What, are you going to scan me? Take my temperature?
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leans down slightly to get a better look at her face, brows heavy over narrowed eyes, like he's studying her. ]
Should I?
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[She sighs deeply. Someone just put her out of her misery right now.]
... Do you remember Danny?
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Danny. I think so. Schoolteacher, became a cyberman.
[ He suspects there's more to it than that, but he can't remember well enough to say what. ]
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Good, and kind. The second man I ever loved.
[Who the first one was, she’ll never say out loud.]
I think part of you must remember what I was like after, to rush all the way here.
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Instead, he opens his mouth like he's about to argue the latter... but just shrugs, arms flopped at his sides. ]
Possibly. Memory is a funny thing. Messy, never so clear-cut. Possibly there are areas of, of stronger— residual awareness.
Or, I might've just come because you're my friend.
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Well, the dog likes you so I guess I have to say you're my friend too.
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[ DOG! He seems pleased to see her. ]
Well, basically nothing can resist my staggering intellect and charm.
[ He says, as he pulls a ham sandwich out of one such pocket and tosses Mary a bit. ]
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[She sighs and rubs a temple. The Doctor pulling a full, unwrapped sandwich out of his pocket is the least surprising thing to happen to her all day.]
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One and the same.
[ He nods his head towards the backdoor, ] C'mon. C'mon, I'm in the mood for some stars. [ And starts heading there himself.
(Taking an idle bite out of his ham sandwich as he goes. Mary could have the rest, if she asks politely.) ]
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The screened back porch overlooks a sprawling, green yard, sloping down the edge of a sparse wood. Everywhere, there are the detritus of her life with Cosima - two pairs of rain boots by the mat, two Adirondack chairs facing the screened wall, an ashtray and a calculator next to a regency romance novel and a box of Clara’s favorite biscuits. Clara passes them all to open the door, letting the Doctor pass her and head out into the yard.]
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He plops down on the nearest solid surface outside the door, and stares skyward at the small smattering of visible stars. It's become habitual over this past mainly-sedentary century, stargazing— it's no substitute at all for travel, of course, but there's a comfort in it all the same.
With or without him, the universe spins madly on.
He doesn't take his eyes off it. After a long moment, he asks, ]
Had I ever told you about River?
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[Her voice is softer now, under the stars. Seeing the night sky above her is like having ground under one's feet. It reminds her that everything she loves - everything wonderful - is still out there, waiting for her.]
I met her once, actually. And I know you stayed with her for awhile after I left.
[She was glad to learn that. More than anything, she had worried herself sick over how he'd fare alone.]
no subject
One very, very long night. [ He lets out a slow breath and leans back, ]
Our last together. I'd known it would be, and I'd been running from it... but it caught up to me eventually, when I least expected it.
Any night could be the last, every Christmas is last Christmas. [ —he'd picked that phrase up somewhere, doesn't think anything of it, ] But she'd believed that "happily ever after" was found in the time you have together, however short or long.
Just the time.
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... But then it's over. It's always over.
[Again, and again, and again. She's getting so tired of it.]
I'm thirty-one, and I've already lost three people I wanted to stay with forever. How many more will that be by the time I go back to Gallifrey?
[She can feel her voice rising. The neighbors' lights are all too present in the corners of her eyes. Where the hell is the vacuum of space when you need it?]