REAP THE WHIRLWIND I FLYNN CARSEN

Fear The Hero

Fear The Hero

My heart is a cage
And my bones feel so strange...

Clara closed the door behind her, the Annex seeming to shrink away from her, its rejection strangely painful. But she'd defeated Morgan, and saved the children, what more did it want? Even Amy had found happiness with her little Goth, Leonard the failure winning first prize. Yet a little voice whispered that victory wasn't hers, that it had been won by many, not one. She shoved this thought aside, savouring her tainted triumph, relishing the bitter taste of it on her tongue.

"That was a mistake," Jenkins said, stepping out of the shadows.

Clara just raised her hand, the bookcase behind him going up in flames.

Rolling his eyes, Jenkins snapped his fingers, instantly extinguishing the flames, the bookcase as innocuous as ever.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Clara said, biting her lip.

"Don't," Jenkins said, his voice cracking.

"You were the one warming Morgan's bed, not me," Clara said, raising an eyebrow, "contrary to what you may have heard otherwise."

"You had the chance to end the cause of a thousand years destruction," Jenkins snapped, "yet you let her slip through your fingers!"

"What, like you did?" Clara said, rounding on him.

"That was a long time ago" -

- "You let her rough you up," Clara hissed, "or is that just how you like it?"

"Clara" -

- "Don't address me by that title!" Clara screeched, her eyes turning a violent violet.

Jenkins just shook his head, half turning away from her.

"I saved a hundred human brats," Clara said coldly, "when I didn't have to. What more do you want from me? A goddamn piano recital!?"

"You just doomed her next thousand victims," Jenkins said just as coldly.

This time, Clara was the one to shake her head, not believing what she was hearing.

"You had her," Jenkins said, advancing on Clara, "for the first time in centuries, you had her."

"What did I say about listening to rumours?" Clara said, shaking a finger at him.

"You know what, you're right, I don't know who you are," Jenkins said, holding his hands up in almost surrender, "and I don't think I ever did."

"Whatever, old man," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "Moving on, your ex gave me a little message to deliver to you by the way."

"What do you mean?" Jenkins said, every inch of him suddenly on high alert.

"Don't worry, I'll speak slowly and clearly," Clara pretended to promise. "Have you got your hearing aid in? Noli timere malum, sed time heroa."

"Do not fear the villain," Jenkins said, his face draining of colour, "fear the hero."

"Nice love-note," Clara said, "and rather apt for yours truly."

"The best of dark and bright," Jenkins said slowly.

Clara flinched at this, the memory of Jacob's voice striking a chord within what had been Clara.

"You know the end is coming, don't you?" Jenkins said suddenly.

"It's always been that way" -

- "I mean the end of everything, this world and all that lies between," Jenkins said, his stare searing through her.

"What, you want me to save the world now?"

"If you don't learn how to fight the war, instead of just winning the battles, none of us will survive, not even you," Jenkins said quietly. "It's your choice."

"We choose," Clara said, echoing his earlier words, as if from another life.

"Exactly."

"Well, we don't want history repeating itself, do we?" Clara said bitterly, remembering the fall of Camelot.

A terrible silence fell, Jenkins half turning away from her.

"So where do we go from here?" Jenkins then said, spreading his hands. "You're neither Clara nor Guinevere, caught between the living and the dead, a mere shadow, a shade" -

– "So you keep saying, Grandpa," Clara said impatiently, dialling Flynn's number. "But does it look like I care? I'm moving onto bigger and better things, honey."

"You'll break his heart."

"Ah, Flynn's famous frozen heart," Clara mused, "defrosted by his dear darling Hartley. It's such a shame to undo all that good work, but it has to be done, I'm afraid."

"He was just trying to protect you" -

- "So you keep saying, Grand-dad," Clara said impatiently, dialling Flynn's number. "But does it look like I care? I'm moving onto better and higher things, honey."

"Stone?"

"Jake?" Clara said, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm talking about that tasty piece of trailer trash. He'd like to get his rough hands on this lil hot piece of ass, so I might just give it to him." She slapped her backside for extra emphasis, making Jenkins flinch.

"Why are you destroying everything we've built here?" he said, his hands shaking.

"I'm just starting, sweetpea," Clara smiled, "working my way from the inside out, dividing and conquering with my derriere. It'll be amusing to see our great heroes scrapping over some jumped up English doxy. As for the others, well, I'll put my thinking cap on for them. But let me tell you, I'm especially looking forward to breaking your little brainbox, especially after that little incident with Excalibur" -

Jenkins sprung at her, grabbing her face between his hands, almost crushing the life out of her. Clara struggled, her eyes becoming violet again, magic sparking from her fingers, but Jenkins was stronger, fuelled by loss and rage. She suddenly slumped into stillness, her body going slack, sliding to the floor, Jenkins taking a step back, shocked. He stared at his hands, at what they'd done, destroying what would have destroyed. The silence drilled into his skull, almost anesthetizing him. Then Clara's eyelids fluttered open, dragging him back to life.

"Jenkins?" she mumbled, struggling to sit up.

Jenkins just stood there before throwing himself forwards, clasping her to him, her head lolling against his shoulder. "My precious, precious girl," he whispered, the tears rolling down his face, "I'm here, I've always been here."

"God, what happened?" Clara groaned, propping herself up against him.

"Funny turn," Jenkins half sobbed, half laughed.

"I feel like a funny turn," Clara said blearily, pushing the hair out of her eyes. "The comedy act of the evening." Jenkins just scoffed, before burying his face in the crook of her neck, breaking down completely. "It's alright," Clara said, her voice cracking as she smoothed back his silvered hair, "I'm here, I've always been here."

The End

~*~

Author's Note: The sequel, Out Of The Darkness, can be found under the 'My Stories' section of my profile.