New Girl In The Box (Ep1)

Chapter 9: Care

"This room wasn't here before," Clair remarked as Clara led her into the TARDIS' new room. Clara grinned. Welcome to the TARDIS, Clair.

"It seems that the TARDIS wants you to stick around. This'll be your room, when you're here."

Clair raised her head, gazed around in wonder at the room. It was nothing special. Almost exactly like Clara's, in fact, but there were subtle differences. This room had a long, low bookshelf that doubled as a bedside table, and it was packed with novels. A small wall-light sat in the corner at the bed-head, a switch next to it. The desk was considerably larger, and was in the corner across the room rather than at the end of the bed. A very average room. To Clair though, it was amazing.

She stared around as Clara led her over to the bed, and sat her down on it.

"So, the TARDIS can just create rooms whenever it - whenever she - wants to?"

"Yep," Clara answered. "She can move them too, so if you lose your room, don't worry, it'll be around somewhere. Probably."

Clair laughed a bit, and Clara smiled.

"So... do you live here? With the Doctor? Are you two...?"

Clara laughed nervously.

"No, no we're not - together, or anything. And I don't usually live here. Sometimes I stay for a few days, a week or two, but I do have my own apartment."

Clair nodded, continuing to look around at the room. Clara saw her gaze wander to the bookshelf a good many times. Clara's own eyes settled on the now-purple lump that was formed on Clair's forehead, and on the many bruises dotted around it that had started showing themselves. Her lip was less swollen than before, but the split had left blood on her face.

"Clair," she started nervously. Clair turned her attention back to Clara. "We should probably take a look at your injuries. Make sure you're alright."

Clair considered her a little suspiciously for a second, then nodded gently.

"Okay," she whispered. "But it's nothing serious. Just bruises. I've had way worse."

Clara decided that it would be better to save whatever story that was for another time.

"We should still check you over. I think that lump on your head needs some ice, at least. Where else did you get hit?"

Clair shrugged off her jacket, wincing a little, revealing strong arms and shoulders dotted with bruises. There was a blue-ish lump on her collarbone, and Clara's heart lurched.

"Is that broken?!?" She leant forward, reaching a hand toward the ghastly bruise. Clair leant back a little, taken off-guard by her sudden concern, and Clara caught herself, realising she may have been a bit sudden.

"Sorry. Sorry, I was just worried. I didn't mean to - scare you, or anything."

Clair shook her head.

"It's fine. I'm just... not used to people. Nice people, I mean." She looked down at the bruise.

"And no, it's not broken. I've broken my other collarbone once. It's a lot worse. This is probably just a bad knock. Hairline fracture at most."

Clara sought the words to voice her shock at the sudden diagnosis.

"Well, okay then, um, if you reckon it's alright. That will need ice though, I can tell you that much." She sighed. "What else have we got?"

"Mostly arms," Clair said, turning her arms to get a better look at the mottled red and purple marks, and the sore spots she knew would come up in bruises tomorrow. There were two almost identical lines of swollen purple along her forearms from the crowbar blow. Seeing them made Clara wince in sympathy.