La niña imposible, el lobo y la tormenta.
If Clara Oswald gave her a pound for every time the TARDIS exploded and shook her inside, hitting her person, perhaps she would have been really rich already. She had been thrown to the ground countless times, once her right foot had twisted slightly, her stomach had hit the railings and left her breathless each time, and when her back had hit one of the shelves, this hit had given her a vertical lash. that her head and neck had ached for two days; and the times I inhale the smoke that the TARDIS emitted when something went wrong and caused explosions, but according to the Doctor, 20% of the time they weren't toxic, she really wasn't excited to discover the remaining 80%.
Because the only certainty is that any smoke released by the TARDIS left her coughing for several minutes, clinging to her throat and chest; therefore, the idea that he would surely end up developing a heart problem in his old age was on his mind on more than a few occasions.
She loved adventures, and she didn't mind admitting that at some point she needed those adventures, every planet, every period of time she'd visited, always left her with the giddy feeling of wanting more, but just going to the TARDIS with the Doctor as the driver. It was an adventure, and most of the time, a suicide.
This time he had not needed a trip. All he wanted when he got home was to lie down and wallow in everything bad that had happened on his date. She had been nervous, she had been a complete idiot and out of control with what had come out of her mouth. And if Danny didn't want to see her after that, she really didn't blame him.
And then the Doctor was in her room and the TARDIS had been in her room and she just had to turn on her side to get to her bed. Sideways.
But even though she was upset and definitely didn't need a ride, the moment she saw him, she knew she was leaving. She knew that the old fool really needed her, but he also knew that she needed him. And that he would never refuse.
And then it all went to hell when her phone rang and she thought of Danny. And she had been dumb, so dumb when he came back and her mouth got her in trouble with him again. Rubert Pink was the lovable and brave boy that he would know as Danny, and then Orson Pink that when she saw him, she knew it within herself. He knew it with the same certainty that he had every time he decided to trust the Doctor.
The soldier without his weapon had only been the last thing he needed. Because it was visceral what I felt for Danny, I knew so little and still wanted to be with him, I wanted to know everything, to see how the man had been built and why he was who he was, and I had not thought that in a single trip to the pass already his future would see everything he needed to see.
And then the barn passed, it had been almost a year for her and a lifetime for the Doctor, but she remembered the barn. And he had never thought that this place, which years later would almost become the place of detonation of a weapon, had been the place where the Doctor had cried when he was a child.
She loved him, her memories in her timeline were fuzzy and confusing, it had been her, but at the same time it hadn't been, and although she had known their faces and almost all of the Doctor's secrets, everything was simply locked in her mind. She could agree, but the headache that would haunt her would be abysmal, and she, for the good of both, decided to keep only her present.
But having that memory of the Doctor as a child, alone and scared of the darkness, had broken his heart, because she had taken it upon himself to protect him, each version of her, had only wanted to protect him, and his instincts, which were rarely wrong when They were about the Doctor, they made a decision.
She remembered his promise, the one that had been part of him since he had taken the title of Doctor, since he had come out to see the universe and its wonders, and he told her, perhaps initiating the tradition that would continue for the following centuries: "But everything will be fine if you are wise and strong, fear does not have to make you cruel or coward ..."
Yes, she loved him, but she did not idolize him, because she knew that he was only a man, a man who until now had never disappointed her and was so intelligent, brilliant, and for that reason she trusted, so blindly as to venture to the most hostile places with his hand in hers, but ...
She didn't know what she would do if one day he failed her. If one day, a time machine wouldn't be enough to fix it.
So she needed Danny. Not only because it felt right to be talking to him, a feeling he only felt when he was in the TARDIS with the Doctor, no, it was more than that. It was the knowledge, it was all the knowledge that she had in her mind, things that she kept secret, would drive her crazy, and that's why she did not travel with the Doctor full time, because she consoled and helped this Doctor as much as she allowed, but who comforted and helped her?
There was a time when I thought I was born to be with the Doctor, that I would be with him forever. But the Doctor belonged to all those people he knew and changed his life for the better, and all he could do was not hold on. Although it hurt, because thinking that she would not be with him in the future left her with a dull ache in her heart, it was something she had accepted since the Doctor had left with those green eyes and that bow tie.
And he thought it would all be over once they took Orson. Because if that was her future, she was more than ready to run towards him.
But then there was that golden light, on the other side of the console and the Doctor wasn't looking at her, as if it didn't exist, that had surprised her much more than what had been under Rubert's blanket. . Then the light, which had freely taken on a humanoid form, took control of the TARDIS and brought them both to the beach. And she knew that something really bad was happening when terror filled the Doctor's eyes. Because this Doctor was a thug, it was all eyebrows and screams, but his eyes had not shown fear since he had changed, but when he saw that beach, the panic had been there as clear as a summer day, as if it were the lifetime. Or death
And then the light was not only humanoid in shape, it was a woman. She wasn't quite sure what to expect when she saw the light turn into a woman, but for an instant, she pictured a kind of bright alien, with pointy ears and delicate features.
But the woman who had been on the beach was nothing like that. Once the light no longer clouded her body, Clara Oswald realized that she had no delicate features or pointed ears. She looked human. The woman couldn't be older than her, her eyebrows were arched and her eyes, which had previously been like two beacons of golden energy, were dark, between browns and hazelnuts, with clear amusement dancing in them; and her mouth, which was large with prominent lips, showed her a smile that almost made Clara recoil.
It was a smile in its entirety, showing each of his pearly teeth, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he felt a great desire to run. When the woman spoke to Clara, her voice indicated that it would not hurt them, it had been warm and, strange as it was, it had been familiar to her ears.
But where? Where did you hear it?
And then she had taken the Doctor's face in her hands, and the Doctor had run away, had not run, but his fast pace could have easily confused her, and she followed, not without first looking at the woman a second time and closing her. expensive. door, but when he turned to speak to the Doctor, ask him what the hell had happened, he was speechless, because the woman was there, next to the Doctor in the console, completely lying on him and with his hands together.
He looked at her and she just wanted to scream. Because that troublesome look did not belong to the Doctor, that terrified man was not the man who had come looking for her to discover that he was hiding in the dark, no, it was not that man, because that look was part of the same child that had left behind the barn.
And then the Doctor started to tremble, it was unpredictable right now, but I noticed it by his shoulders and then by his arms, and she screamed his name when she suddenly collapsed, advanced fast, ready to run towards him, but her body was left half paralyzed. He looked at the woman, annoyed, knowing that he did, but their gazes never met.
Because the Doctor started screaming, the vertigo was immediate when the TARDIS motors came to life and began to tremble, the lights blinked, something on the console exploded, the chips jumped, and the Doctor twisted on the ground, his hands On either side of his head, his tears ran down the sides of his eyes and he began to cry beside him. Fury rose inside her, and she tried to speak, and she could, because her body was paralyzed but her voice was not.
"Stop it!" frustrated, she demanded of the woman above the Doctor's screams of pain. She did not look at her. And his voice rose once more: "Let me go! What are you doing to him?!"
The Doctor groaned, and when he swayed a little with his heels, he realized that his body was no longer paralyzed, but the TARDIS was not finished, therefore, when his body was free, the rocking of the ship threw it towards the front, and his stomach collided with one of the tips of the console, and he ran out of air, his eyes watered, and he let out a groan. Her hands shot forward, gripped the edge of the console, to steady herself and catch the air. Why hadn't he removed his heels?
And just as it had all started, it stopped. The Doctor's screams had stopped, the hum of the motors with him, and the lights in the room had almost dimmed. Still dizzy, she stood shakily, and looked around for the Doctor, and the sight she stumbled upon surprised her.
On the other side of the console, the Doctor was on the floor, her legs spread, and the woman was cradling her face with her hands, Clara swallowed and released the breath she had been holding, because, although the Doctor had screamed as if she were dying he was alive. I live, but not well.
Because he had his hands intertwined with hers, but his blue eyes looked at the woman with… absolute amazement, not fear or anger, just wonder, as if she was no longer a ghost, but a real woman. And if the previous dialogue on the beach had surprised her, this one had him out of his comfort zone.
A "Hi" had been said breathlessly, a series of soft reprimands along with a delicate caress on the Doctor's face, and a name "Rose Tyler", whispered with such appreciation that for a moment Clara Oswald had thought she was hearing a secret between the Doctor and the woman.
And suddenly, everything changed, fighting against gravity, the Doctor's face went from amazed to terrified, and suddenly his body was moving to get away from the woman, and Clara, feeling the adrenaline rising, approached as fast as could the Doctor's body, but it was late. A soft "Goodnigth, Doctor" was uttered and the Doctor's body fell, heavy and limp against the floor of the room.
As if unconscious or worse. The woman rose and moved away from the Doctor. Clara's eyes and mouth widened in shock, and running, she knelt down beside the Doctor, turned her face away and went down the neck. Double pulse. A shaky sigh came out of his mouth.
"He is just sleeping." The woman's voice startled her, and she realized that she had spent a long time with her hand on the Doctor's neck. He raised his furious gaze at the woman, who was leaning against one of the rails and looking at her with soft eyes, no, not her, at the Doctor, and Clara felt her hands tremble.
It was anger, not fear. "Why?" she asked through clenched teeth, her voice hoarse, and for a moment she hadn't recognized herself. The woman looked at him this time, the feelings Clara had seen in his eyes had emptied, and her face had gone blank.
Her face turned slightly to the right, her eyes narrowed: "Why, what?"
It was as if he didn't understand. Clara's mouth twitched and she stood up, thanking the entire universe for not having stumbled even once, she surrounded the body of the Doctor, he is only asleep, he is only asleep, and approached the woman, who even lay down a little. taller than her I look into her eyes and her hands clench into fists. Nothing, he did not see anger or hatred or any kind of malice or amusement in the woman's eyes.
No, it was no longer the woman. Rose Tyler, that was her name.
"What did you do to him?"
A quick blink, another nod. "Nothing, I just remember, and sometimes remembering is painful," I muttered, and Rose Tyler had turned her gaze to the Doctor.
Clara snorted, incredulous at what she heard. "Of course, remembering is painful ..." Rose Tyler looked at her, but carefully, "But no ... it doesn't have to hurt physically, it doesn't have to make you suffer like this." Here ... "she pointed, with her right hand on her own chest, just above her heart, Rose this time looked at her, again, her eyebrows and nose arch wrinkled in concentration" Your heart may hurt, but no, not hurting yourself makes you scream. Not like him. So what did you do to him?
It could take several minutes, Clara's breathing sounded too loud for her own ears, but she refused to calm down, so she kept looking at Rose Tyler. She hadn't blinked even once, what other circumstances, Clara might have considered strange, because her gaze was intense, her eyes fixed on his chest, just where she had pointed the direction of her heart.
"You don't know," was a statement, and Clara almost jumped at her voice, but Rose Tyler followed, ignoring her surprise. "You say the pain must be in the heart, but what if you don't have a heart? That rule only applies to humans, what if you're not human?" Her questions were not questions directed at him, because he had stopped looking at her, again, his voice was still calm and his face was blank.
And Clara couldn't believe what she was hearing and it exploded, because the anger was still there, burning like a sun, wanting to explode.
"He has two hearts! He doesn't have one! He has two!" It was an exasperated scream, and he hadn't realized until it was over that his nose had started to itch next to his eyes and that the lump in his throat had grown much more than it originally had. I blink rapidly, chasing away the need to cry.
"For having two hearts, his pain is twice as great."
The answer left her breathless, and a cold fist wrapped around her heart. Rose Tyler turned away from the railing and turned to her right, walking a few steps towards the console, Clara noted, sliding, almost as if she were floating, with her white dress swirling in her footsteps, but at no time every time they stepped on. on it, his hands touched the console almost without touching it, like his feet, his hands just ... stroked the buttons and knobs. And Clara saw the left corner of Rose Tyler's mouth rise and draw a crooked smile, caressing one of the screens with her fingertips.
Clara held her breath, fearing that everything would shake again, but no, the whistling sound echoed in her ears and the TARDIS spoke, when the familiar buzz was heard much clearer and the lights flickered throughout the room, the time rotor stopped. I light up, and Clara looked between amazed and scared when from warm orange it turned to a soft yellow, almost golden, and suddenly the TARDIS felt warm, the rounds on the walls had also lit up and the TARDIS sang again. As if he was absolutely happy.
He released the contained air, and out of the corner of his eye looked in the direction of the Doctor, but turned completely in alarm when he only found an empty space.
"Doctor!" Her voice rose an octave in horror, and she refused to think she had screamed. She turned again to face Rose Tyler, but she nearly stumbled back when she realized that the aforementioned had been standing behind her the entire time. With his brown eyes staring at her. He opened his mouth to demand a response again, but she was faster.
"He is in his room."
And although he didn't know her, he knew she was telling the truth. Because the TARDIS would never allow something to happen to the Doctor.
But Clara's mind was only stuck on the last word. Room. Her teeth caught her lower lip, she wrapped her left arm around herself and her right hand went up to her forehead. Trying to think. Something, anything. The Doctor was allegedly asleep, and she, Rose Tyler had sent the Doctor's body to her room. The Doctor's room. Clara knew he slept, not as much as humans, but he did, but he never really thought he had a room.
I try to think of something, again, but I couldn't. Because the situation was beyond her, but no ... if she knew anything. Your name. And if there was one thing the Doctor had taught him, it was that names have power. She lowered her arms and looked determinedly into the eyes of the woman who was only inches away from her.
"Rose Tyler." She snapped, and there was a slow blink, her brown eyes lit up a bit, and a big smile adorned her lips, showing her teeth together.
"Clara Oswald." I hum in response.
And that was definitely not expected.
"How ..." Rose Tyler took a few steps back and leaned on the console, and Clara was never able to finish her question because it was interrupted. Again.
"How did you know it was the correct TARDIS?" - And Clara for the third time in the day was speechless. Because she smiled, and her eyes told Clara that she knew. Something just the Doctor and herself.
"Wait, how?" - Another smile, this time lighter, crossed his ankles together, and raised his right hand.
"You, Clara Oswald, how did you know this was the correct TARDIS?" - He drew an imaginary circle with his index finger, and cocked his head up for a few seconds, his eyes scanned the room until it ended.
"I just ... I just knew it. It's the TARDIS" she declared, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. Rose Tyler raised her right eyebrow at the show of defense.
"You identify me as a threat." was an affirmation. Clara Oswald straightened her shoulders, and his arms tightened around her more tightly.
" I do." he threw and didn't stop, "Because in one second you weren't there and the next you existed. You made me believe that you wouldn't harm the Doctor and you did it! And not only that, I know your name, but I don't know who you are. And you're evading my questions!" At last, his hands trembling next to his arms that were beside himself, pointing left and right. The anger had returned.
"Don't harm the Doctor, he saw me and certain things he had forgotten came back to his mind. And you know me, Clara Oswald." He immediately denied, because he didn't, and Rose Tyler's eyes narrowed. "A name matters, a name can sometimes change everything. But a title? It is a promise, and that is something that you and I know very well."
"And tell me where do I know you from?" Ignoring all of the above, her question was sarcastically released.
The response was immediate: "From everywhere." she unstuck from the console and walked, until she was standing in front of her, only centimeters away. Giving her another intense look, but this time, Clara may have noticed that her eyes had flecks of gold, but a quick blink from her and they were gone. "You've seen me out of the corner of your eye when you walk down the TARDIS. In a corner, across the pool, sometimes in the Library when you find an open book on the tea table, or when you walk into the galley and realize the water is still hot. "
A cold calm took over her. Because yes, Rose Tyler, you were correct. But he was missing something, and she had discovered it in all their interaction. And perhaps her clue had been the dress. Clara sincerely hoped not to be mistaken.
"But you don't exist. You are ..." Clara raised her right hand gently to Rose's face and just went right through her, her hand touching only air. The face was not blurred at all, therefore it was not holographic, but it was not corporeal either. And Rose Tyler's face emptied, again, emotionless as she pulled her hand away. "A ghost. You can't read a book or drink tea. You're connected to the TARDIS I don't know how, but you're not real."
"I like you, Clara Oswald." Was his flat reply. His eyes still didn't blink, and his jaw clenched.
"Blondes don't suit me." He said crossing his arms. Rose Tyler shrugged her shoulders, and everything about her changed. The casual air had disappeared, and the TARDIS sang, at first its humming had been soft, but suddenly it was heard loudly, resonating against the room, the time rotor fluctuated from bottom to top, its light went from orange to gold and almost felt ... like a warning.
Clara had never had a survival instinct that worked. That is why she threw herself into danger without thinking twice, that was why she had done everything she had done with the Doctor, because, although she did not have a sense of functional survival, since she met the Doctor she knew that he would come to help her. And although she knew the Doctor was asleep, in a room, somewhere in the TARDIS, she simply decided that she was tired of the games.
"Then tell me who is Rose Tyler?"
A fixed gaze, with a small hint of curiosity and the slight contraction of her lips, were the only indication for Clara that she had heard.
"The brave girl who died in battle." Her voice echoed throughout the room, and Clara's skin bristled completely at the empty cadence of her voice. She pondered her questions for a few seconds, took two steps, not entirely sure that it was correct to get so close, but suddenly the brown eyes looked past her for a few moments, and Clara stopped her advances. "The girl who sacrificed her life to save the Doctor.Does that story ring a bell for you, Clara?"
I swallow thickly, and suddenly another piece falls into place. Since they had looked each other in the eyes, Clara had seen something there that she could not locate, something that she had only seen in the Doctor's eyes and seeing them in other people was impossible, but there it was. Weather. His eyes were too old for his face. They spoke of some wisdom, pain and ... there was so much bitterness. But Clara had seen how her eyes and voice had softened when seeing the Doctor, how that bitterness had disappeared, perhaps for a few moments, but she was gone.
"Yes, because I sacrificed myself to save him." He admitted. Because I knew it was impossible to lie. A slight nod and his gaze, which had been lost at a point behind her, returned to her face. Looking for something.
And maybe he found it, because his next words made his heart jump, and a ball of nerves focused on his stomach.
"Because you love him." It was not a question. And this time Clara found herself nodding, unable to speak, and apparently her answer pleased her, because the smile had returned to her lips, but this time more subdued and did not completely reach her eyes. "I will tell you a story, Clara Oswald, about Rose Tyler, and I will need you to pay close attention."
His tongue came out to slowly wet his parched lips, a thick swallow, and he nodded again. The brown eyes glittered gold for only a few seconds, and this time Clara knew she had seen correctly, because there was no flicker once, the time rotor fluctuated again, and suddenly the room changed before her. Her eyes and mouth widened in shock when the console was covered in gold dust, making her squint immediately by the light and suddenly dust was everywhere. At her feet and above her.
The upstairs began to disappear, and everything she had, the walls came later, and the faster the dust moved, what was left behind left her breathless. Six coral columns rose, the walls were deep and hexagonally shaped, he wobbled to his feet when he saw the ceiling being supported by the corals, and when his heels felt shaky he looked down, and the familiar gray floor did not. It was, and had been replaced by one of grilles, she turned, with a mixture of fascination and disbelief on it as the same floor extended to a ramp leading to the door, the lighting had changed to a gloomy and all the armchairs had missing.
Clara released her breath when her gaze met the console and the time rotor, which were the last thing that let the dust go. The rotor illuminated with a teal color and cables that were connected ran from the rotor to the ceiling. All the levers, knobs, and buttons were gone. The coral was also incorporated and now there were things that Clara could not identify and her fingers itched to touch. Because this room was… it wasn't the room she knew. And that was a gavel?
His hands touched the edge of the console, and he knew something was wrong. He still felt the soft warmth of the TARDIS under his fingers, but something was just turned off.
"It is an echo." The voice in her ear made her jump, and she abruptly turned her head to her right, only to meet Rose Tyler's gaze. And perhaps the confusion was written all over his face, because the empty eyes had a sparkle of amusement before disappearing again. "This is what the TARDIS looked like when Rose Tyler first entered, and what the TARDIS looked like after the Time War."
His last words made a memory hit her. She and the three doctors, and the screening. The projection that had allowed to see all those people who were going to be burned by the war. But before she could speak, the sudden sound of the door being opened silenced her. She turned, terrified, and out of sheer instinct, began to stumble, searching her eyes for a place to hide.
The sudden pressure on her shoulder stopped her cold, she looked at Rose Tyler again, and found her laughing with delight. "Clara, this happened a long time ago."
But how was he touching her?
"Oh ..." was all that came out of her mouth before voices flooded the room, and she leaned out and immediately recognized the man who had entered.
It was the Doctor. With a face that she had only seen once a long time ago, and yet had never detailed. Blue eyes and big ears, leather jacket over a green T-shirt and dark jeans, with boots on his feet, and on his face he showed a smile that made Clara's breath stutter for a few seconds, and the next thing she saw was like a bucket of cold water, making it suck noisily.
Behind him was Rose Tyler. A much younger version of the one next to him, even with the baby fat still on his cheeks, dressed in a simple white tank top and jeans, his hair just as blonde and curly, his face had much more makeup and his eyes ... his eyes were alive. They had absolute happiness in them, and his mouth made a big smile like the Doctor.
The set closed after Rose's entrance, and the Doctor was suddenly too close to Clara, and although it was only an image, she took a few steps back, and Rose - the young version - also took a place near the console . They were not both looking at each other, but they were both in perfect sync, their hands moving and pressing buttons. Clara walked around them and watched in amazement as Rose turned a lever counterclockwise, and the Doctor, who had stopped playing, was looking at the screen, and without seeing it, extended his left hand towards Rose, who after turning the lever, took the mallet and extended it.
And there their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing. Rose had grabbed her own stomach and the Doctor had backed away until he fell into a sitting chair, still holding the gavel in his hand.
"Did you see his face?!" The question stumbled between laughter, and Clara then noticed that this version of the Doctor had a strong northern accent. Rose's eyes watered with laughter and she nodded fiercely, the Doctor seemed delighted.
Young Rose, who had stopped laughing, circled the console, her gait had become loose, her hips swayed, and Clara's eyebrows shot up at the sudden change in attitude, Rose's eyes sparkled and looked in the Doctor's direction. with mischief and suddenly made his shoulders back, his tongue came out to touch his teeth, and playing with a strand of his hair he approached the Doctor, who had also stopped laughing, but there was still a slight smile on his face and he looked his partner with a slight spark of suspicion in his blue eyes.
Rose got so close that the Doctor's knees were at hip level, and for a moment Clara thought that perhaps, this Rose would get into the arch of the Doctor's open legs, and the way Adam's apple was moved in the Doctor's throat, he also thought the same. But no, Rose just got close enough that only her left knee touched her hip.
"Now, Doctor, you promised me the best amusement park in the universe." and unlike the adult Rose Tyler, this Rose had a remarkable cockney accent, her voice showed a seriousness that both Clara, and of course this Doctor knew it was a lie, and when the Doctor's mouth opened, to refute, Rose lowered his hand, the one that had played with her hair, and touched her knee, the Doctor's mouth closed automatically. "I don't want you to blame the TARDIS. You are hitting him all the time with the mallet, obviously he was not going to go."
"Rose ..." The Doctor had started, with a tone that Clara might have thought otherwise was serious, but the look in her eyes said just the opposite, Rose shook her head, a small smile knowing now on her lips .
"If we couldn't go to the best amusement park in the entire universe. I want to go to the second best" the Doctor frowned and the doubt showed in his eyes, and Rose's tongue came out again, showing a smile with all the teeth. And Clara without even knowing her knew that smile was trouble. "Beach, Doctor. I want to go to a beach and wear a bikini."
Two things happened after Rose released those words. The gavel fell from the Doctor's hand, making a clattering sound that resonated throughout the room, Rose and Clara jumped at the sound, and Clara, who recovered faster noticed with amusement as the Doctor's ears were red at the tips and his eyes had drifted to a point behind Rose, staring at nothing.
Clara watched as Rose's smile grew smaller, and her eyes were just two wells of satisfaction, oh, and she knew. Young Rose was aware of how tangled the Doctor was in her little finger, and he reacted perfectly to each of her provocations.
Young Rose let out a pitiful sigh, and Clara knew it was completely fake.
"Then food, a bath, and a little nap." Rose intently squeezed her knee, and ignored or perhaps not, how the Doctor jumped slightly in his seat. As if he had received a small electric shock. "What do you think? Red bikini or a black one?" The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest and not only were his ears fiercely red, so was his neck, and his Adam's apple moved eagerly, again.
Clara crossed her arms, eager to see how the Doctor would respond. This Doctor, one I had never seen or known, was a mystery. His posture, his gestures and even his eyes. And Clara knew that this Doctor was the face that followed the War Doctor, she knew that this body only remembered having killed all its people. Having pressed that button.
And seeing him stammer at the attack of a young girl who couldn't have been more than twenty years old made her heart shrink. Young Rose seemed to have enough, knowing that she was not going to get any more answers, giving the Doctor a last squeeze on the knee, this time he refrained from jumping, turned and went down another ramp that Clara had not noticed until now.
And now in the room there was only the Doctor, who let out a slight sigh when he saw his youngest companion go to the corridors. He had followed her with his gaze, from the moment she had turned and run, he had followed her every step. And although Clara certainly didn't know this Doctor, she knew about the look in his eyes.
It was happiness. This Doctor in his leather jacket and northern accent was absolutely happy and amazed by a human. The Doctor stood on his feet and picked up the gavel, Clara watched as, like her Doctor, she began to play with the TARDIS controls, without actually pressing them. She laid the gavel on the console, and went to where Rose had turned the lever, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes, and lowering the next lever, she felt the motors come to life herself.
"Rose Tyler, I'll give you a beach." It was a statement and the Doctor began to move, no, he began to dance around the console, and since Clara did not know this console at all, she only saw him pressing and turning, until his trip ended on the only screen he had, there was a setback and the room shook a little, and the Doctor held on to the screen with his hands for a few seconds, a maniacal smile crossed his face, when he stretched out an arm and under the only lever that he came to recognize, that of dematerialization Clara definitely didn't know if this version was completely insane or just had big attitude issues, because after the lever was down, the Doctor took the gavel.
Then he understood what the deck was for. Oh stupid man.
Clara by sheer instinct hurried over to the Doctor to stop what she was about to do, but when she just went through it and stumbled forward, Clara wanted to hit something, because she had completely forgotten about it and when she turned around, she saw with horror how The mallet connected against the console, and it started to spark. The TARDIS shook violently for just a few seconds, the lights in the room flickered with equal fury, and the wobble had been enough to cause the Doctor to stumble again, and he clamped down on the screen again.
Without losing for a second his manic smile.
"He's a damn fool!" She squealed, she had definitely squealed in Rose Tyler's direction. And when he saw the woman's face, her mouth opened on its own. " You like him!" He spluttered and it wasn't until he released him that there was a complete accusation in his words.
Rose Tyler turned her gaze to her, who until now had only been focused on the Doctor, and Clara immediately regretted her words.
"So? You liked her green-eyed, big chin face more than you do now." The tone was vague, but sarcasm edged him and Clara pressed her lips together, knowing she deserved it. And suddenly the brown eyes shone again in gold, the room changed in front of her, the Doctor in a leather jacket disappeared in a cloud of golden dust, the lights changed, and they were in the control room that Clara knew.
The change had been so swift that she hadn't even flinched when, and when she did, a slight dizziness attacked her, she took a deep breath, trying to keep the dizziness at bay.
The recliner, the top floor, and the bookcases, even the blackboard, were in their usual places, and Clara sighed, because even the time rotor had its usual orange hue, and doing a quick tour, all six sides The console had all the buttons, levers, and knobs I knew of.
Suddenly tired, she wobbled and backed away until the back of her knees touched the edge of the chair, and she fell, saw her own hands shaking in her lap, and hugged herself, because all she had seen the last hours had exhausted her to death and she just wanted to sleep. I just needed to forget the last few hours. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Rose Tyler walking until she was in front of her, a few movements, and her lower back was resting against the console and for a moment Clara did not want to see her.
Something was wrong with everything that was happening, because that had not been a story, no, that had been a declaration of who Rose Tyler had been and seeing her, seeing the woman, only caused him terrible frustration. I breathe, because even though I was damn tired, she still had that adrenaline rushing through her system that focused on her legs and hands when something really wrong was happening and the only alternative she had was to run.
So he ran. Not with his feet, no, he ran the only way the Doctor had taught him well, with his mind.
"I really don't want to see you, but I don't want to leave because I want an answer. I will ask you questions that you can answer only with yes or no, I will give you a maximum of five seconds to answer them and if you don't, I will understand that you will not answer them. Is that good for you?" I wait, waiting for the bare feet I was looking at to disappear.
He started counting, one, two, three, four ...
Clara released the air she had unconsciously been holding. And going through each of the questions I had, I put them together in a way that was easy to answer. She leaned back from the backrest, dropped her hands to her lap, and didn't look up from her bare feet.
"Are you the thing the Doctor feels when he's alone in the TARDIS?" Well, he had started with a long question. He started counting, one, two ...
"Have you always been in the TARDIS?"
One two three four…
"No." And he hadn't expected that, another question fluttered in his mind, but it wasn't a simple answer. She closed her eyes, and thought for a few seconds, then opened them, her head inertia jerking upward, but she stopped when she remembered not looking at her. His sight stayed just level with his neck, and he noticed something he hadn't noticed before. A simple silver chain with a key hanging.
"But do you know each of the Doctor's faces?"
One two Three…
Clara considered the following question a few seconds before releasing it: "Have you ever left the TARDIS?"
One, two, three, four, five ...
"No." It had taken almost five seconds for him to answer, and although his voice had been flat throughout the questionnaire, his voice varied, and Clara began to find a pattern.
"Have you lied to me?"
"No." The response had been so quick that Clara had no time to count. He twisted his own hands in his lap, and caught his bottom lip between his teeth. It had become impossible for him to avoid looking at the chain with the key. He released his lip and continued. But why wouldn't I lie to you?
"Have you met each companion of the Doctor?"
And Clara remembered the young Rose, and the conversation she had had with the Doctor. Those brown eyes had once been full of life, when this woman in front of her had traveled with the Doctor, she had been like herself, no, Rose Tyler had been more than herself. Because in that little memory she could see that, unlike her, Rose Tyler had been in the TARDIS as a permanent companion. His life had revolved around adventures and planets, time travel and space. And the Yale key only reaffirmed that theory. And Clara knew that perhaps her next question would hit a vein.
"You are alive?"
One two three four…
"Yes. " His tone varied, his voice dragged around the “e” instead of the “s”, and his body shifted a little from the position he had initially taken on the console and Clara knew he had it when his hand He got up and started to touch the key.
"But is your body alive?"
One Two Three Four Five. Clara blinked, counted for five more seconds, and the answer was not answered. The hand on the key had become still and Clara squeezed her own hands, because the tension had become almost palpable, and for a moment her curiosity piqued, she would only have to look up and see what kind of emotion was in Brown eyes. But he refused, instead he kept clicking.
"Are you human?"
One two three four…
"No." And Clara had thought for a moment that she would not answer, but the caress against the key resumed and her voice had returned to make carefully flat.
Clara started cataloging everything she knew so far: Rose Tyler was not a hologram, but she was not corporeal either, she had been human and possibly something had happened in her travels with the Doctor that had made her what she was, and that clue had had when her Doctor had looked at her, accused her of not being Rose Tyler, because he perhaps knew that it was impossible for her to be there, and Clara had only come to a possible conclusion about the Doctor's reaction: Rose Tyler, the human, must have to have died. The mere thought made a chill run down her spine and her heart clench.
And there was something, a giant dot that had only hit her until she had seen his eyes shine gold and answered his last question. If Rose Tyler was not human she could connect at least on a telepathic level with herself and the Doctor, through the TARDIS, because Clara had felt the touch on her shoulder, but it really hadn't been a touch, no, it had been the memory of a touch. But even River had not reached that level, and although knowing that she was going to haunt his mind did not reassure her, Clara was sure that the woman was not reading her mind.
Just because he could, he thought very hard of the Doctor. In his previous face, and the time he got it naked and nothing happened. Rose Tyler was still in front of her, the caress was loose against the key, and her posture hadn't changed in the least. With another risky question on her mind, Clara breathed and looked up to Rose Tyler's face, the brown eyes were missing, a jaw muscle was jumping and Clara was fascinated, because she was alive, but her body was not really there, how did he achieve all the grimaces and natural reactions? Or had they only been performed?
She cleared her throat, and Rose stopped looking into the void and looked at her, flat eyes watched her closely and the caress of her fingers against the key stopped for a second and then resumed, Clara knew it was now or never.
"But you were human, i saw it, but if you've been here in the TARDIS all this time, do you really remember being one?" A flash of gold fluttered for a moment in her eyes and Clara tried not to follow her instinct that instilled her to hit her back against the back of the chair, but her body tensed.
The hand, the one that had been playing with the key, fell, both arms were now lax on either side of her body. And Clara counted five seconds, and then another five seconds, but Rose's body was deadly still, no flickering, no signs of breathing or jaw movements, as it had been before, she looked like a statue and when she finally spoke, Clara didn't know. I had not expected it at all.
"No." It was a whisper between his teeth, so low that his lips had remained still.
"How? " It was a question that resonated throughout the room, in a male voice, he had taken her by surprise and standing on his feet too quickly, his eyes looked across the console, where the Doctor was.
Who was looking at Rose Tyler. And Clara knew it was not good, because her blue eyes had a cold fury, her face was tense, and Clara knew that it was the kind of look he only directed at enemies. Never a friend.
She started to open her mouth, and the Doctor just looked at her, their eyes met, and he looked at her with a hint of apology in them, and Clara closed her mouth, completely confused. He reached out, walked over to her and touched her left arm, and she didn't know how tense she had been until he touched her and her mind stopped running for a second. He was fine. Annoying, completely crazy, but fine. And it was the only thing that mattered to her.
"You're good?" I ask, looking at her intently, as if he was checking that she was not hurt, old fool, she took his hand, the one that was on his arm, smiling, he nodded. Because he didn't have a word to say. He frowned slightly, and his mouth curled, not completely happy, he gave one last glance to turn his face towards Rose, who had not moved at all, partially still still had her back to both of them.
The Doctor released his hand, and walked to Rose, and a voice in the back of his head insisted to Clara to take his hands again, not to allow him to approach her, but another, another voice much bigger He demanded to let go, because he only wanted to see them both, he wanted to see what that shock would cause, the one involving Rose Tyler and the Doctor.
The Doctor walked, in less than four steps he was already in front of her, and looked at her, Clara noticed that he was detailing her, not like before when he had not been able to think clearly, no, this time he detailed it with judgment in his eyes. His face was still taut, his breathing was controlled, and his mouth still had the curl on both of its corners.
He was evaluating a person who was impossible, and possibly suspicious, someone who had been from a very distant past and was now there, not completely human, but he also did not know what he was, or how he is there, and Clara knew him well enough. Well to know that all that unsolved mystery, around Rose Tyler, had him on the edge. That this calm attitude was only a facade and would fly at the first suspicion of danger.
And Rose spoke.
"Bad Wolf," and it had been so long since he'd said a word that when I muttered those two, Clara swallowed hard. I had read them before leaving the TARDIS to the beach. But she didn't know what they meant, even though they sounded terribly familiar.
If possible, the Doctor's frown deepened much further, as did the curl in his mouth. He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked slightly on his feet, anxious. Blue and brown looked at each other, and Clara could cut the tension with a knife, easily.
"When?" His voice was low, but the timbre in his accent was tight. It was a bomb about to explode. A slight flicker from Rose, and the Doctor's chest jerked at a rapid breath.
"A long time ago."
The Doctor took a step closer, Rose stood impassively still, the Doctor's jaw bone shifted, and Clara saw herself advancing as well.
"How long? " The Doctor insisted through clenched teeth.
Rose shook her head, just a little to the right, and in the same empty voice, replied, "Many years ago."
The Doctor walked a step further, and looked as if he was about to fall into his orbit, because, although his face and eyes did not show to want to be close, his body showed the opposite. He was still, as still as Clara had ever seen him, but he had crossed his arms to avoid touching her. Her shoulders were straighter than ever, but her feet swayed towards her, and Clara was fascinated, because like him, Rose was still, yes, but her shoulders were tense, and her hands, which, although they were not real, they had an iron grip against the console, to the point that their knuckles had turned pale. And for Clara it was the closest thing to seeing two galaxies colliding head-on without her dying from the explosion.
And the Doctor's voice brought her back. I blink several times.
"How many years?" Patience was running out and Clara clutched her hands, ready.
"Too many." The muffled tone in his voice, the same empty gaze turned the Doctor into the explosion.
"Yes, Rose! Too many years! BUT HOW MANY?! HOW MANY YEARS HAVE YOU BEEN HERE ?!"
The Doctor roared furiously, his hands shot out and aimed at Rose and from her at the TARDIS, his body began to move around her on its own, his breathing had become shallow and Clara knew it was just the beginning.
"Too many?! That is not an answer! NOT A DAMN ANSWER!" His voice was uncompromising around the words, he stopped, fast, close to Rose, their faces separated by just a few centimeters, their nostrils open, their teeth fully exposed, an expression of pure fury. And he kept ranting, with the sound of thunder in his voice: "Dates, numbers, damn it! Give me some bloody coordinates, Rose!"
Her eyes were wild, her voice had grown hoarse from the screams, the vein on her forehead was sticking out, her breathing was completely chaotic, and Clara was certain that her bypass had been activated by the movements in her chest, and she had never heard swear. His hands went furiously to his eyes, crushing his open palms against them, for a few seconds he remained there, calming his breathing, and then his hands went down to his nose, both thumbs creating an arch under his jaw and in his strangely reddened eyes the Storm had subsided a bit, he sighed loudly, both hands dropped and he just stood there, looking at Rose.
Who was still deathly still, who had not reacted to any of the Doctor's violent movements. With his eyes in an invisible point and his face without expression.
The silence that followed after the sigh was tortuous, even the familiar hum of the time rotor was too loud, and Clara had her entire body taut as an arc, making her own breathing as quiet as possible, almost feeling breathless.
The Doctor lowered his head, his right hand, which trembled a little, rose to his forehead, massaging, and more deep breaths followed. Clara tore her gaze away from him and hours could have passed. Just each one in their minds, trapped.
"Three ..." was an unsure whisper that, if there had been no such silence, capable would have gone unnoticed, but it was heard, and both the Doctor and Clara raised their heads abruptly, seeing Rose, who was now looking at the Doctor, his eyes showing a mixture of softness and bitterness that Clara had seen before, and Clara's breath caught in her chest. "Three thousand two hundred and seventy-three years ..." The lips had not even moved at all when the last word had fallen.
And when it was over, the Doctor backed away as if he had been hit, his hand went to his mouth and his eyes widened, and this time a completely different horror danced in them. Clara felt the lump in her throat grow and a cold ran through her, paralyzing. The Doctor turned, turning his back on both of them completely. And Clara's nose tipped when she saw his shoulders shake.
Oh no, no, no ...
"Why?" Was a whispered, almost stifled question from the Doctor, and Clara hadn't realized that she had started crying until her eyesight blurred, she wiped them off furiously, without importing her makeup.
And Clara knew that he didn't want to hear the answer, that he wasn't ready, but he was the Doctor, and that was the kind of man he was. She closed her eyes, her nails dug into his palms and pressed her lips together, waiting for the explosion, which would leave him deaf, stun him to the bone, and possibly never recover.
The answer was not long, and just like at the beginning, it was whispered, too softly.
She did not see, but she felt and heard it, the Doctor's ragged breathing, the painful moan that escaped her and her legs could not hold her, she fell on her knees and her hands touched the floor, she raised her blurred vision and saw it . Still on his back, his shoulders shaking, sitting on the stairs and his head down, hidden from the world. And she only wanted to approach him, comfort him. Something, anything. But her body was tempering uncontrollably, she hugged herself, and looked at Rose, who hadn't moved.
But that perhaps he had felt his gaze on her, because Rose turned his face, to look over his shoulder, and although Clara still did not know her at all and had hurt the Doctor, as no one had ever done, she could see in his eyes a real regret. Clara believed what she saw. Because Rose Tyler loved the Doctor. She loved him so much that she had intentionally punctured an open wound, and even knowing what it meant, she kept going.
And suddenly, the golden glow returned to Rose's eyes, and Clara knew it would happen, but before she even stopped her, she disappeared, as if she had never been there. Everything before a blink, but he felt it, he could still feel a certain warmth that warm.
He found himself looking everywhere, looking for her, but he didn't find her trace, and when he was going to give up a “I'm sorry” he was whispered in his mind, so low that she was missing it if it wasn't because it wasn't her voice and that she herself had not thought of it, because she had thought of nothing at all.
And she could only draw her own cynical smile through tears, because how typical is it of the Doctor to do something that was hopelessly wrong and just apologize? Maybe they were made for each other.