In Her Eyes (A Whouffle Fanfiction)

Chapter 8- Don't Go

The Doctor drummed his fingers impatiently on his leg, one foot tapping an irregular beat on the tiled floor. He never once took his eyes off of the sleeping woman that was nestled under the duvet in front of him drinking in every detail; every smile, every frown, every sleepy mumble that she made. It wouldn't be long before she woke up, and he wanted to enjoy the ignorance on her features before he spoiled it. 

Should he really tell her what he had learned? He had to. Clara would want to know. Even if he didn't tell her straight away she would wheedle it out of him one way or another and she'd no doubt be furious that he had kept something this big to himself. No, he would tell her the moment she woke up. She'd prefer it coming from him sooner rather than later. 

All too soon Clara began to stir, duvet rustling as her round face peeked out from within the folds of the fabric. 

"Hello, sleepy-head." He said warmly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the sight of her bedraggled hair and dopey expression. He could never stay depressed around her for long, her very presence enough to calm him, to soothe almost every wound he had. Not all, but most. There were some wounds that even Clara couldn't completely heal. The Doctor quickly slammed the door shut on the bad memories that were threatening to surface and instead watched her as she slowly blinked sleep out of her eyes. Even with her make-up smeared and red, puffy eyes she was still one of the most beautiful people he had ever clapped eyes on.

"Did you miss me?" He reached out a hand to brush a few runaway strands of hair behind her hair but stops when he notices how terrified of him she looks; body shaking, arms crossed protectively over her chest a look both parts horror and fear etched into her features. 

She's afraid of me, he realised with a jolt. The Doctor raised his hands upwards, palms outward in the universal symbol for 'I surrender' and took a sneaky look at the bedside table where he had left the souffle. It was eaten, the note next to it read and re-folded neatly. Even if Clara hadn't seen them there was no reason for her to be acting like this. He had expected her to be angry for leaving her, not scared that he had come back. As much as Clara scared him when she was angry, the Doctor would prefer her to be like that than the crushing alternative that was in front of him. 

"Clara, it's me." The Doctor said slowly, extending one hand slowly like a vet would when approaching an injured animal to gain it's trust. "The Doctor."

Clara flinched and recoiled from him, pulling the duvet right the way up to her chin. The Doctor was panicked and hurt. What had he done wrong? He had rescued her from the Testing Facility, definitely not a bad thing. Okay, so he had been a little too late to stop permanent damage from being done but he was doing everything in his power to make it up to her. Not for his own peace of mind, but for her's. Clara's life always came before his, no matter the situation. Her life was worth more to him than all of his put together.

He returned his hands to his legs, rubbing them against the rough fabric of his trousers nervously. Across form him Clara pushed her hands into her hair and lodged them there tightly, gripping so hard that the Doctor swore he could hear a few of the roots ripping free of her scalp.

"Please Clara. Tell me what's wrong," he begged, hands twisting awkwardly in his lap. He desperately wanted to pull her over to him and wrap her in a hug, but he knew that would just freak her out even more and make the situation worse. 

"What's wrong? Oh, you know what's wrong." Clara laughed bitterly inbetween sobs. She looked insane. "You kidnapped me, injected me with some drug...thingy, then just when I think I've finally escaped from you you waltz right back into my life impersonating one of the few people that I love-"

The Doctor's hearts skipped a beat. Could she actually love him? He pushed the thought aside quickly. Now was not the time for this, not when Clara was collapsed in tears in front of him. She might not have meant love love anyway. She more than likely had meant it as a friend. What worried him more was who she was talking about. It sounded like the man had come back while he was gone, which would explain why Clara's tubes had been missing from her arm when he came back from the hospital.