Secrets keep us safe.

"That you were." The words were simple. But honest. She had to know that, no matter how his life changed, how it went on without her, she was always there, somewhere, in his hearts. It was a love story, after all. "Oh, Rose," He grinned softly. "Did you forget everything about me? 'Course I did. saved the whole universe, I did. Well, besides my people, but--didn't deserve t'be saved, the lot of them. Not then." Quickly shaking off the memory, he listened to her, trying to understand. Trying to process how his Rose could believe she'd gotten worse; sure, people changed. But change isn't always bad. He'd proved that to her time and time again. "I--I made a choice for you for a reason. And--" He cleared his throat. "Y'realize I'm not with y'now. If that makes the choice you're gonna make any more clear." "Oh, me? Yeah, actually, I--I am." His hearts warmed, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Think I've finally let myself for th'first time in a real long time. I...I had some friends and that was lovely, and I lost them, too, and--well, now I've got Clara. Get to see you again."

#convo #convo: rose

[open]

rosywithwanderlust

"New Years? That was old you?" Rose looks surprised at the sudden information, unable to believe that the event happened after she met the Tenth Doctor. The memories were implanted in her mind while she was occupying the parallel universe, but she didn’t question them too much. Time was fluid, and she had accepted that.

"I don’t deserve it, trust me." She doesn’t want to admit that she screwed things up to the man who had done so much to ensure she had every chance, especially when she neglected each and every one. It causes her heart to ache.

#convo #convo: rose #[ fdkjsfjhsa. ]

"That it was," He said with a small nod, shaking off the painful parts of the memory and instead relishing in the joy that had been seeing her face one more time before he'd changed. "Just before I went on looking like this, actually. First and last face that face saw. Hadn't had a bit much to drink, really, more bit much radiation, but you win some, you lose some. Worlds to save," The corners of his lips turned into a familiar smile. "You know the drill."

"Oh, if anyone in the universe deserves to be happy, Rose, it's you." He words came out as he slowly started to notice the pain in her face. He doesn't want to ask. He doesn't want to know. "Please, be happy."

[open]

rosywithwanderlust

"I said what on earth did you think you were doin’ when you dropped off another version of yourself with me?” Rose runs a hand through her blonde waves, subtle distress within her brown eyes. “I mean, didn’t you think there was some chance we would all be reunited?” She figures she cannot approach either of the Tenth Doctors about this, so she addresses the next direct source.

#convo #convo: rose #[ haha rose ]#[ tell him you didn't talk to tentoo for like six years now ]#[ good luck with that ]

"I--" He clears his throat slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. He'd thought Rose had said that. He'd thought she'd confronted him on something he'd never have to address. "Maybe there was. Maybe there wasn't. Well, there was. I did. New Year's? Remember that?--Anyway, point is that...then, that me, I knew I was selfish. And I'd keep you in the beats of my hearts. But that would kill me. To lose you. And you deserved... that life. That life that human me could give you. And though I didn't understand then...I realize now that it's because loving someone means wanting them happy. Even if it's not with you."

[open]

"--Right, could you repeat that so I'm sure I've heard that straight?"

#open #cotaos #[ moreso for if anyone who hasn't spoken to eleven yet would like to ]#c:

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"If anyone could talk their way out of a bake-off to save the universe, it’d be you. However, it’d be much cooler if a soufflé saved the universe instead." She said with a teasing smile, lifting the spoon up to give herself a tiny taste of what he had accomplished so far. It tasted spot on delicious at least, which was a nice surprise. Perhaps he could manage a bake-off if he wanted.

She continued to mix the batter as he muttered after her about the book. She had never looked at the foreward before, and she honestly hadn’t really had a reason to. She had briefly scanned over the first few sentences thanking everyone who had been a part of her book. She gave him a look about the man on the swings. “I suppose so. I don’t really remember it.” She shrugged lightly.

The moment he said that perhaps he was meant to read it, she looked up at him curiously. Maybe she should have taken the time to read it, but even if she had read it before she had known the Doctor, she was sure she would have understood nothing. She was tempted to ask him what he had found, but she decided against it. She moved from the counter and collected a pan to pour the mixture into. On her way back to the counter, she went ahead and flipped the oven on. The batter poured smoothly and evenly into the pan, and with a satisfied smile, she glanced back over at the Doctor.

#para #para: clara #we&39;re all stories in the end

"Oi! You can't say that, just go off sayin' what's cool and all--" He teased, taking a glance back up at her from his spot with the book. Sure, he did the same, but he was allowed. Maybe not for any particular reason, but there was a logic somewhere amongst the time stream in his head. "--I suppose I could try, though. But let's not go off betting th'universe all willy-nilly on baking contests just t'see that happen, alright?"

He tossed the idea of telling her that he'd been the man on those swings that day, long before they'd properly met at her doorstep years later. After all, now that everything was out in the open between the two of them... "Well, that fool in the swings..." He stepped over to her briefly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You certainly helped him find what he was looking for. Good advice. Find a quiet place. Though next time, recommend not doing the monk thing. Monks aren't cool."

Without another word, he continued reading, eyes focused on the story Amy had been weaving through something simple as a foreword. A woman, watching her. Watching...after her.

'So, Doctor, get ready to look up. She is waiting for you. She's been waiting a long time. And if you do see a woman, just watching you, then that means trouble's not far behind her.

But, just before you look up, I'll pass on her message.

"Run, you clever boy and remember..."

His eyes immediately shot up as he dropped the book onto the counter, looking at Clara for only a moment before assuring himself she'd put everything down onto some sort of flat surface before wrapping his arms around her protectively, hearts pounding.

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"Let’s hope you don’t end up being put into a bake-off to save the universe." She grinned.

When he squeezed her hand, she gave him a tiny smile. She was going to be there for him as much as she could be. It was amazing how much a touch could do. The gentlest hand squeeze could communicate so much between them. Ever since Trenzalore, every time he touched her it felt as if her skin was on fire. It was like all her nerve endings lit up and it seemed as if she had been waiting for a hand to intertwine with hers just perfectly all her life.

She did not miss the beginnings of tears, she had always been observant, and she listened quietly as she flipped through the pages. She knew what it was like to lose someone, and she had come to understand that she wasn’t the first to ever travel with him. She had lost one though, and she couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose as much as he had. “You should keep it.” She finally said, reaching out and touching his arm. “You should read it. It’s a wonderful story. They’re all quite good.”

She glanced over at the mixture again, putting the mixing spoon in it to start blending it again. “I think you’re meant to at least read it. I wasn’t suppose to get anything that day I found it. I was in trouble for talking to a stranger on the swings. I was suppose to stay with my mum in the flower shop, but I ended up wandering into this book shop instead. I found it at the back underneath all these discarded books, my mum said I was covered in dust. She said I wouldn’t let it go, and the lady let me have it for free.”

"I don’t think I’d be that miserable. Could talk my way out of it, you never know.”

There was this thing, this sweet little thing about Clara that’d always been there, every incarnation that he’d met of her, that she’d always managed to be there by his side and support him without just…falling to the side. She’d saved him, held her own, and held him up, too. Particularly when he’d needed it the most. Every moment of his life when he’d been falling apart, there was Clara; going through the thick of it without another word. And he knew the side effects didn’t miss her, didn’t pass her by as a favor for saving him. She hurt, too.

His head turned to glance at her at her offer. You make everything better, his eyes said, his lips curving into the smallest smile. “I’d like that,” He said softly, eyes lazily meeting the first page of filler in the Foreword Amy’d penned out decades ago. “She always did have a thing for imagination,” The Doctor muttered, his tone pained but…oddly optimistic and nostalgic.

His eyes didn’t leave the page as she moved over to continue mixing whatever he’d thrown into the bowl—he could hardly recall. “It just looks like a…a bit of filler,” He sighed, flipping to the next page, spectacled eyes going line after line. “Sometimes it’s…nice to chat with a bloke on the swings. Maybe he needed’t,” He continued to murmur, his words stopping as the tone of Amy’s Foreward changed, addressing him. "I think I’m meant to, too."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"Yeah. Definitely not going to help. That’s why I’m the baker." She said with a wink, looking at the measuring cups and spoons he had already used to gauge what he had already put into the mixture.

She had been expecting some funny tale to come out of his mouth that got him excited. Something that animated him and made him move about and make his hands fly about. Something that would make his beautiful green eyes twinkle mischievously and that smile stretch across his face. Perhaps she’d even see him straighten his bowtie while he talked, something that she had found herself missing as he wore different clothes. Instead, it seemed to do quite the opposite.

The slight smile on her face had vanished, and she watched him softly. “Doctor?” Her own voice was soft as well, her hand reaching and touching the top of his hand gently.

#para #para: Clara #we&39;re all stories in the end

"Very true, very true," He agreed with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "I s'pose you'll have to make some poor attempt to remedy whatever disaster I may have started to cause with all of this. I hope you're prepared, because I'm a bit knackered."

Carefully, he brought his thumb to run over the name once more, just making sure that it said precisely what he'd thought it did and that he wasn't once more thinking up that he'd found another connection to her. But it was there, clear as day, causing the time lord to quickly reach onto the counter, slipping his old companion's glasses on as he flipped the raggedy--his lips curved into a smile--book in his hands. He squeezed Clara's hand back gently, finally making eye contact with her once more, a small sparkle in his eyes from the beginnings of tears just barely noticeable.

"She was a friend of mine. Very good friend of mine. I...I traveled with her and her husband a very long time, actually." He cleared his throat, thumb running over the edge of the pages, flipping them by. "First face this face saw. Had just lost her when you happened upon me in Victorian London--well, not just, nearly a century, but... That's...cloud." His words trailed off, not completely wanting to admit to her or himself that he'd isolated himself for about a hundred years after he'd lost the Ponds.

Hi you're a perfect eleven I shall go back to stalking I mean watching.

ooc: fhdsakjfhdsakfgsdahj thank you very much <3

#ooc #Anonymous #answered

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

She couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. “That’s the thing about baking. Nothing has to be perfect. My mum, I don’t ever remember her measuring anything she ever put in a bowl. She always just knew how much to put in.” A slow smile stretched across her features as the memory of her mother making a soufflé. How she used to watch her as a little girl, eagerly ready to test anything and lick the spoons when she was done. She wouldn’t let him quit now though. He had already stirred up something special.

She stared at him for a moment, her mind thinking of all the things that could be actually, properly, real before pushing it to the side with a shake of her head. “There’s a character in this book that has to be you.” Slowly, she pulled the book from her chest and flipped it over, her fingers running over the cover. “Artie and I had just discussed it right before I met you. You probably remember the girl.” She handed it to him. She still didn’t care for the image of the girl anymore. “Did you know the author?”

"Well, sure, but..." His voice trailed off as his listened to her reminisce about her mother, completely positive his experiments wouldn't end nearly as well. But he was more than confident that Ellie Oswald knew what she was doing, so he smiled just the same. "Don't think a lack of patience's gonna help me in baking. Baking's all 'bout patience."

He gave her something of a cheeky grin as her mind wandered for a moment at his words, snapping back into reality as she brought up a character in a book. The man was about to say something about a number of characters that were him (or his companions, etc.) before she put the book in his hands, his frame shuddering at the familiar face on the cover. But then, his hearts stopped. Because the author's name was even more familiar; as many times as he'd claimed she'd always be a Pond, there was no doubt that this was his. His Amelia. Summer Falls and Other Stories. Foreword Amelia Williams. "Yes," He managed to whisper softly, bringing the book a little closer to his face, not sure if he wanted to open it or not. "Yes, I do."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

When she felt his arm on her shoulder, she leaned into him. She didn’t care if she got flour on her night shirt. “Cinnamon’s good, I do enjoy some cinnamon buns.” She said with a smile. If she remembered correctly, she had a cinnamon scented candle somewhere in her room. She’d have to light it for him sometime. “Have you preheated the oven yet?” She couldn’t help but ask, raising her eyebrows slightly amused at him.

"No, no, you haven’t done anything." She told him softly, reaching up and brushing some of the flour off of his cheek. "It’s just— something just occurred to me. It might not be important, but I have this feeling that I need to show you. And well, I want to ask because I’ve read this book a long time ago and I never imagined it could be anything more than fictional." Surely some of it was fiction, but could that character be the Doctor? Anything was quite possible now it seemed.

#we're all stories in the end #para #para: clara

His hold on her tightened in a protective sort of a way as she leaned into him, the time lord trying to keep himself as casual as he possibly could. Cinnamon buns, he mentally noted, recalling a lovely place in Paris in the early 20th century that made them fresh at the crack of dawn he'd have to take her. "Not exactly," He admitted, eyes giving a small glare to the oven. "I wasn't completely sure I'd gotten everything in the bowl properly, and I'd feel obligated to put it in once the oven was ready." He was the impatient type, that was for sure.

The Doctor's curiosity grew at Clara's rambling about what she needed to speak to him about, his eyes once more falling on the book in her arms as she brought it up. "Oh, there're plenty of things you think are fake or fictional that're real. You're more than welcome to ask."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

She took another step into the living room, and then she heard something to her left. Turning towards the kitchen, she immediately smiled when she saw him looking into the living room. She pressed the book even tighter against her chest as he asked her what was wrong. Quickly, she shook her head, taking a few steps towards him. “Nothing’s wrong. I just—” She stopped talking once she entered the kitchen, seeing the mess of the kitchen.

"Since when did you start baking?" She teased him lightly, looking curiously over into the bowl. The mixture inside was dark, and it smelled fairly enticing. "What are you making?" She didn’t see any recipe book lying around. She supposed he could be making something from memory, however, she had never come across an oven in the TARDIS. She could have been hiding it from her for all Clara knew, but he didn’t seem like a baker. Turning her eyes on him, she couldn’t help but put him against her mental image of what she believed the Curator to look like. However, now it seemed she could only picture him.

His grinned turned into something of a grimace as she stepped into the kitchen. Humans had to sleep. That was a fact. So he hadn't really been expecting her to come down until much later, during which time he'd manage to clean up the kitchen (and himself, considerably floured in his button-up, vest and bowtie) and make it seem as if the catastrophe hadn't actually happened, merely leaving a (hopefully) lovely souffle as the only evidence of what had happened there.

"Since never, actually," He admitted, pacing over to her and casually draping an arm around her shoulder lazily. "I was just sort of...throwing things into a bowl based on what you do. Though I added cinnamon, I like cinnamon."(Clara smelled a bit like cinnamon.) His forehead creased slightly in confusion at the look she gave him, however, his eyes trying to decipher it. "Right then, what'm I getting that look for? Have I done something--good or bad, that is. If it's bad I swear, won't happen again--if it's good I'll make a mental note to certainly do it again."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

It reminds me of someone. Artie’s words still echoed in Clara’s head as she headed down the stairs, her fingers running over the spine of the book. Immediately once those words had left his lips, Clara had put it together. She was surprised she hadn’t thought of it before, but the last time she had laid eyes on the book she was almost uploaded. After that, any similarities that came out at her now had been pushed far in the back of her mind. She stopped on the bottom step, pausing as she took in the title again. Summer Falls, had been one of her favorite books since she had stumbled across it. She had found it beneath a pile of dusty old books, and she had gotten the oddest feeling when she started pulling the books off one by one until she found it.

Biting her lip and hugging the book to her chest, she stepped off the stairs and headed into the living room. She couldn’t quite leave it be now. It would keep her up all night. “Doctor?” She asked, peering around, frowning at the empty living room.

He didn't sleep. He didn't sleep, first of all, because time lords hardly had to. Second of all, he didn't sleep because of some of the things, the dark bits and horrors that came at night during his brief affairs with sleep. Third, he didn't sleep because there were so many more interesting things to be doing when one was sleeping. Like paint or cook something, or invent a new mode of transportation or read up on how to be a regular, proper boyfriend.

Tonight, he'd defaulted to baking. Or at least, starting the process, pouring together things he'd seen Clara mixing a couple times in their attempts to make a souffle. And, for a man without a recipe, he was very proud about what he'd done, producing a thick (but still liquid) mixture that smelled of some combination of dark chocolate and cinnamon. His eyes darted up, hearing Clara's voice echoing softly through the hall, poking his head into the living room and grinning at her, trying to see the cover of the book she held against her. "Hello!" He said, quickly lowering his voice. "Sorry, hello--what's wrong?"

#para #cotap #cotae #cotas #just listen to the rhythm of my hearts #open #HAHA I'M HERE SCHOOL KILLED

haverfords-blog

#self #clara

just listen to the rhythm of my hearts [eleven + OPEN]

"Always fancied a ball. Love dressing up, the pomp and circumstance of it all," The man in the bowtie murmured to himself, his thin frame leaning against the table. His date had gotten lost in the crowd somewhere--something he'd have to tend to eventually, but Clara was his girlfriend, certainly not a child he was babysitting, though his initially instinct in any situation was to protect her. The whole situation with the part had been a little odd, but he tried to brush it off while still keeping himself on his toes. After all, if anything were to happen, he'd be the one to stop it. He was the Doctor, he thought, hands rising to fix his bow tie as the corners of his mouth turned into a smile.

He leaned down to pick up a glass of soda, nearly taking it from someone else's hand, jotting his own back quickly and glancing up. "Sorry, sorry--didn't see you there."

The Doctor and John Oswald ( & Jack Smith) || AU

amanfromthestars-blog

Jack was reluctant to let go of the Doctor, but released his grip on her as soon as she pulled away. There seemed to be a reluctant suspicion in her eyes, and Jack really couldn’t blame her for it. She’d been through too much to trust in miracles by now, and Jack held himself accountable for some of that.

A grin formed on his lips as she mentioned Rose though, and he gave a quick nod, beginning his response to the series of questions posed to him. “There was this bloke in New York, he gave me his vortex manipulator and said to come back to you,” he answered, switching his gaze over to John. He wasn’t sure whether he knew about having been in New York at some point, but maybe that was still in his future. In any case, he hoped the Doctor would get the message.

"Rose is with me," he continued, with a fond smile as he thought of his wife back at the flat. "Wouldn’t leave her after Manhattan," he added, though he regretted bringing up that event the second after he did. He was scrambling for something else to say, when John spoke.

"I’m glad to have her back too," Jack quipped, shooting the Doctor a quick wink. He made a mental note to tease her about mentioning him to John sometime.

Once John took her hand, her fingers intertwined with his, she felt ready to hear everything that Jack was about to tell her. If it was all a trick, she could be okay knowing that someone was holding her hand. Someone who had saved her life twice (impossibly she might add) and didn’t even know how special he was yet. When she saw the grin spread across Jack’s features, she couldn’t help one of her own growing as well. She had missed him terribly, and for a long time, everything reminded her of him. She frowned a little when he talked about a bloke giving him a vortex manipulator, and briefly wondered who exactly it could be. And then, Jack’s eyes moved over to John.

It was a pointed look and a slightly curious one as well as if he knew something about John that John might not have known. She looked over at him giving him a quizzical look, her eyes taking in everything about him that maybe she hadn’t noticed before. Up and down, no she had noticed everything she could see physically. The unsaid message, however, rang loud and clear in the Doctor’s mind. John Oliver Oswald was somehow responsible for Jack and Rose’s return. And he was completely clueless about it.

She’d find out just how he managed to do all those things for her in time. That was something she had already made up her mind to do awhile ago. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate everything he had already done, but this was an entirely different. He had brought her back Jack and Rose. She still blamed herself for Manhattan and that’d always be the case, but she could now revel in the fact that she hadn’t lost them after all. Finally, her eyes rested on John’s face. Maybe one day he’d know how grateful she was, how happy he had made her, or maybe he already knew how happy she was without knowing.

Without a second thought, she moved towards him, pushing herself up on her tiptoes and moving her hands to either side of John’s face, and planted a kiss on his lips. It didn’t occur to her how confusing it probably would be to him. She pulled away a little, her nose bumping his as she grinned up at him and gave him a soft pat on the cheek. Finally, she pulled away from him and looked back over at Jack.

"Thank the stars." Her relief about Rose evident in her voice. When he mentioned Manhattan again, her eyes looked down for a moment before she looked back up at him. It was just in time to see him wink at her. "Thank you, Jack." She said, hoping that he would know what she meant. Not just giving John her number, but for everything he had ever done for her. Everything he had been with her, for being her best mate.

#au #companion!eleven #the doctor and john oswald ( & jack smith)#para: clara #para: ten

"Vortex manipulator?" John repeated slowly, trying to play around with the words in his head in some way to make sense of what that machine was. Whatever it was, it seemed to do the same sort of thing as the TARDIS, moving people from one place to another if he'd been able to get from New York to London. Part of him frowned just slightly at the thought, though--if Jack and this Rose had merely been in New York, what was stopping the Doctor's space-time machine from getting there as opposed to them being lost forever?

The look on the man's face changed to one of pure confusion, though, when Jack seemed to give him a pointed look, as if he should completely understand what was happening and his role in it all (minimal as it had been. He'd only brought the Doctor to a shop, after all). But he couldn't keep it for long; the Doctor seemed so happy, and he couldn't help feeling that happiness in part with her. He knew what it was like to lose people, to be alone. And not having to suffer through that any longer had to be the most spectacular feeling.

Then, in an instant, John's body was locked up, frozen in place as the Doctor suddenly pressed her lips to his. On a whole, John hardly had company. Nonetheless friends. Nonetheless a significant other. So the way her skin felt so close, the way his hearts raced and the way he found himself absolutely unable to move was spectacularly new. Everything else was drowned out as he stood there, vaguely wide-eyed and trying to keep composed and unphased quite unsuccessfully.

The Doctor and John Oswald ( & Jack Smith) || AU

amanfromthestars-blog

When she turned around, his suspicions were confirmed. It was her, it was the Doctor again. Jack may have come back to the future to reuinite with the Doctor but that didn’t mean that he was at all prepared for it. Everything was rushing back and Jack froze. The memory of meeting the Doctor for the first time surfacing in his mind. The memory of waiting for her to come back for years. Then the travelling. The latter was definitely Jack’s favorite of the three.

The Doctor had shown him everything. Sights far beyond his imagination, things he’d never even thought to be possible. But the Doctor had also left him. Dropped him and Rose back on earth like it was practically nothing. Of course she’d told him why she’d done it then, while he was still alive. But he hadn’t had much choice in the matter.

At least then though, he’d seen it coming. He hadn’t seen Manhattan coming. From the second they landed it had been a whirlwind of timesteams and paradoxes and before he knew it he had witnessed Rose’s death. And even after he thought they had fixed it, in the blink of an eye, everything had gone wrong once more.

He couldn’t have stayed with the Doctor after that. He couldn’t just leave Rose after everything. He’d already seen what had happened when he didn’t join her. She died. Still in that appartment and alone.

But he really hadn’t had much of a chance to say goodbye, at least not in person. The afterword was one thing but it was words on a page. It was asking the Doctor to find a new companion. It wasn’t a goodbye. It couldn’t be.

When the Doctor put her arms around his shoulders though, for a moment all of that melted away. He hugged her back immediately, wrapping his arms around her frame. “I thought I lost you too,” he confessed, voice raw with emotion. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

She didn’t want to remove her arms around his shoulders and stop hugging him. She didn’t want this moment to end, but all things ended. She knew that more than anyone. She took a moment to recollect herself though she wasn’t sure exactly how good that would do her. A few tears had already betrayed her. Slowly, she slid her arms from his shoulders and landed lightly on her feet, looking him over carefully. She had thought of everything, and she still couldn’t do anything to save Jack and Rose.

"I didn’t either, but… you are. I don’t—" She hated saying these words. She hardly ever had to say them, but she was also nervous to press him. If she pressed him too hard, she wondered if she would see it. A trick, a sign of them not suppose to belong, anything. "I don’t understand. How did you get out? Get here? Rose, is she here too?" She asked, her voice careful. She hoped Rose was here as well. She knew they loved each other, and the afterward that he had left her told her that at least they were able to live together happily like she had wanted them to. It didn’t stop her from blaming herself or remembering that Rose’s mum had told her to bring them back safe and she couldn’t have even kept that.

And then, she remembered hearing John when she hugged him. Immediately, her hand reached out behind her, fingers feeling for him without looking away from Jack.

#para #para: Clara #para: Ten #the doctor and john oswald #au #companion!eleven

Slowly, it registered in John's head what was occurring before him; this was the Doctor's friend. The one that she'd thought she'd lost, the one that put that sad look in her eyes back at the kitchen table. And without even intending to, John had somehow fixed things. Isn't that what he'd said he'd do? Not try to replace her friend (or friends, as it seemed), but try and make things a little better for her. Because no one, particularly someone as extraordinary as the Doctor, deserved to be that sad.

Why Jack had given John, though, of all people, this amazing woman's number was beyond John's imagination, though. He hardly saw himself as anything particular. But he made a mental note to be sure to thank the man when he had a moment to speak to him on their own. After all, even if it had only been for the day, John's life had been changed in an instant upon meeting the Doctor. And it'd never be the same again.

As he saw her hand reaching for him, he paused for a moment before awkwardly taking it, stepping beside her and giving the man a grin. "So you're the bloke," He said with a laugh, genuinely excited for everyone involved. "In th'short time it's been, she's said a bit about you. Glad she could have you back," He admitted, giving a smile down to the Doctor. He knew that feeling of loneliness. And it was more than enough for anyone to deal with.

frvckles

Sounds of a Time Traveller || Amelia and Clara and Eleven ||

frvckles

"I’m sure that if you asked him nicely, he’d let you have a photo." Amelia smiled. "That," She started before sighing, "That was taken the day I left, you know he took me home." She closed her eyes, remembering back to the day before laughing gently. "Well, home. But nearly seven hundred years too early!" The opened her arms, gesturing to her surroundings, "And here I am today!" She smiled as Clara approached the hatch.

"I think it must have, but I didn’t really see anything because I was calling for you over the balcony, and not much can be heard through those doors." Amie laughed slightly, shivering, remembering back to the icy cold air of this particular British December. Clara was busy examining the broken plastic which used to be the phone very closely. "Are you looking for anything in particular? Anything I can help with?" She tilted her head, leaning further through the hatch.

As Clara mentioned the sonic, Amie’s eyes darted to the device which lay on the counter beside her. She slowly picked it up and rolled it around in her hands, inspecting it slowly as it droned on, whirring away while casting an eerie green light on the wall at which it was pointed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it do this before, nothing this extreme anyway.”

Amie went back to sorting something out in a cupboard, however, when Clara mentioned the possible arrival of the Doctor, she bolted to the kitchen door and swung around the frame which caused her to appear in the hall, inches away from Clara’s face. “You don’t really reckon he’d come here do you?” She said, half excited, half scared. Amelia had a decent enough reason to be scared, seeing as the last time they had met, she nearly died.

Clara smiled back at her comment. Of course he’d let her take a photo, she was sure of that. Her head tilted when she sighed from explaining the picture, a little sympathetic laugh came out when she mentioned 700 years too early. “That sounds exactly like him.” She said, shaking her head a little and crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, don’t leave me waiting, what happened next? Unless you can’t tell me, then that’s fine too. Trust me, I know all about that.”

Whatever had made the phone blow up, Clara couldn’t determine from examining it and so she shook her head when Amie asked. She put the plastic pieces down and watched Amie as she bustled around the kitchen. “Yeah, it might be better to leave messing with it for the Doctor.” There was an odd feeling that she was getting the longer she stared at the phone and then the sonic screwdriver. She looked up though slightly startled when the girl bolted from the kitchen right next to her. Clara straightened up, taking a couple quick steps backwards at the sudden move of the girl.

Her tone made Clara search her face for a moment. “Well, I gave him this address right before I came in. You know, safety precaution, but it all depends if he got my message or not.” She gave her a little reassuring smile since she sounded almost scared of seeing the Doctor. She was hoping he would come if only so they could both go home. She didn’t know exactly where she was, but she was confident enough in her ability to be able to get herself home. However, she couldn’t bring herself to go home without him. No, she’d stay outside in the cold for however long he needed her to be.

She was about to say something when suddenly her mobile began to ring. Quickly, she pulled it out of her purse and looked at it, grinning. “It’s him!” She told her before she answered it. “Doctor?” When she didn’t hear an answer, she chanced a glance at Angie’s mobile which had hardly any service but the phone was still connected. Clara moved around the living room until she found an spot near the sliding glass door that let her have service and she could finally hear something from the other side. “Doctor? Are you there? Did you get the address I sent you? It should come through now since the mobile has service. Look I’m there and I think there’s something odd happ—?” There had been static she had heard in the call, but now she could have just swore there was a brief noise that sounded more like the sonic screwdriver then anything else.

"Doctor?" She couldn’t hear him now. She saw her reflection in the glass, her standing there and suddenly, the phone’s light changed to green. The mobile grew hot quickly in her hands, and she realized that whatever had happened to Amelia’s phone was happening to Angie’s mobile. With a yell as her fingers began to burn from the heat of the phone, she pushed the sliding door open and tossed the phone away from her. The phone was barely far enough away not to cause real harm thanks to her throwing and her moving backwards but the explosion went off with a loud bang that was still too close to Clara. She stumbled over her feet and fell backwards on to the floor, aware of the loud ringing in her ears.