Apple Locket (Whouffle- Doctor Who)

Chapter Two

The sweet whiff of sugar and syrup made connection with Clara's nostrils, it was a pleasant way to start the day, or whatever time it was depending on the TARDIS.

She made her slipper padded feet down the stairs, not making a single sound. Her hair drained out by her pillow, strands of hair looping into a mess. She still remembered the incident from yesterday. It haunted her as she kept her eyes shut. She stayed quiet the whole way through, her frame curled up into the sheets, her limbs unsettled.

She pushed the memory to the back of her head with the emotions she felt with it and stopped track at the foot of the kitchen where a little miracle seemed to happen.

The Doctor in a frilly edged apron with flour smudged on his cheeks tossing a pancake, were it clumsily made it on to the ceiling. Bad ending.

They both stared at each other before breaking into fits of laughter.

"Pancake?" he asked.

"I'll stick with cereal" she scrunched up her nose looking up at the burnt pancake.

---

They sat at both ends of the table, spooning in their breakfast. The Doctor watched as she scooped in a mouthful of Frosties, her eyes lacked in pigment. The bags under her eyes gave it away.

"Sleep well?" he asked, before dipping a fish finger into the bowl full of custard and munching on it.

"Yeah" She replied, her lips only raising an inch. Lying.

"And now the truth?"

"I am telling the truth" she looked baffled but she knew she was a liar at this point.

"Oswald, don't make me look stupid. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong" her tone stiff. She stirred the left over milk in her bowl, few soggy flakes still bathing in it.

Why does he always worry about her? he needs to walk away from her wounded soul and let her tears be dry to him.

He sighed.

"I'm fine" she said before exiting the kitchen and reversing her way back to her bedroom, locking the door.

A month later they both stood in black garments, their focus on a grey headstone, words marked into the stone like scars marked into ones heart 'Ellie Oswald 1972-2014'. They stood there, arms almost in contact feeling the chilly breeze gush past them, swaying the untrimmed grass and causing the spread of dandelion seeds. 

It was just the two and no one else to watch the loss of a mother. Clara bent down placing a single white rose by the grave, her face dejected.

"I'm sorry" the Doctor said, his eyes bowing down in sorrow.

She didn't speak for a moment.

"Don't be" she replied.

He looked down at the brunette hair towering above her, few loose strands carelessly sticking out. Her lips pursed "I'm sorry" he said again, patiently waiting for her focus.

She tilted her head up with clear brown eyes, hair brushing against her flushed cheeks.

"Why?" she asked

"For not understanding anything you went through"

She gazed at him for a bit. A touch of guilt set off through her, it wasn't his fault that he kept apologizing, it was the mood swings that kept lingering in her. Nothing remained beautiful about her when she saw him like this, all her problems rushed to him when he's lost so many. Her nightmares, loss and obstacles always end up to him.

"Don't be" she breathed.

Before he could say anything she closed their gap, pressing him on her. She laced her arms around his neck, tugging it down and tip toeing on her toes to reach his height. His chin was on her shoulder and so was hers. 

They stayed like that, enjoying eachother's heat entwined together around them.

"You know what I'm thinking?" She said, he could feel her jaw moving around his shoulder.

"What?" 

"That we should have fish and chips" She grinned.

---

As promised, they chewed on chips for dinner. The meal nested in newspaper, clutched in their hands. They ate under a oak tree, the leaves blooming into oranges and yellows. They didn't mind being surrounded by dead and dying leaves, it was better than people.

"You know, things have gotten better since this" she said, popping a chip in her mouth and gesturing towards the graveyard across the road.

It wasn't that she was in high spirits about her mothers death. Family who never had any interest in her was a distraction to all the journeys she was missing out on with him. Becoming a Nanny and taking care of Angie and Artie was a escape plan to run away in a "snog box" on Wednesday's. Now, Wednesday's hardly happen.

"Yeah" He said, his concentration on the view around him. The wind blowing on his quiff.

"I want to belong back in that stupid box with you and all of space united around us, just us" 

"And what about your jobs?" He asked.

"They can wait"

He sucked in a lung full of air "Sometimes I feel as if I'm stopping you from reaching your own life. The life you have outside the Tardis with all your friends, families and jobs. And then there's new life with new people after that and it all goes on. But I feel like I hide you away from the rest of the world without me"

There he was, feeling like a chain around her neck, dragging her out of existence. But it wasn't true.

"Doctor, I do all of that everyday, a million seconds, and at the end I get fed up of it, but with you I never do. You gave me this unfamiliar life and you expect me to dump it all away? never gonna happen"

He looked at her solemn expression then smiled. 

"Your always welcome and you know it"

"It is home after all" she smirked, nudging her elbow against his arm.

They didn't say anything after that, just cut through the rest of the chips, scrunching up the waste and filling the bin. 

They opened the blue doors which led to home after that.