#whouffiction

Two months had passed since the inauguration and Clara was beginning to grow restless. The Doctor would not admit it, but he seemed to be chomping at the bit too. This pampered domestic life was nice and all, but they were itching to save some planets. The administrative pressure was driving her insane.

Today was the big day and the whole planet seemed to bustle with activity in preparation of the Presidential wedding. The streets were strewn with white pennants. Work had been canceled for the rest of the day. People partied in the streets like it was a tailgate. Children set off fireworks in the alleys. It was overwhelming. Clara was not used to so much attention. She could hardly go anywhere without paparazzi mobbing her.

“Martha, I don't know if I'm sure about this.”

Martha looked up from behind Clara’s chair, making eye contact with her via the mirror in front of them. She set down the bobby pins she was holding and put her hands on her hips. “Not sure about marrying the Doctor?” 

Clara wheeled her chair around to speak to Martha face-to-face. “Oh no,” she shook her head. “I'm sure about that. I mean about this whole ruling Gallifrey thing.”

Martha hummed and spun Clara’s chair back around. She resumed her meticulous work pinning Clara’s hair. “Well, you did take an oath.”

“I know I did,” Clara sighed. “But I don't know if all this sitting still and being doted on is for me. I'm not Princess Diana.”

Martha chuckled, brushing out a lock of hair with a comb. “So run away then,” she shrugged, nonchalant. 

Clara stumbled in through the open bay doors, at the end of her strength. She cursed her still-weakened muscles. With a grunt and a fair amount of exertion, she slammed a button on the wall and the airlocks shrieked and closed. “Help! I need help in here!”

The bulkhead doors to the ship opened with a groan. Martha and Malonyo dashed in, concern written across their features. 

Clara struggled to keep the Doctor upright. She balanced his dead weight on her shoulders, hardly able to stand against the ship's gravity. Bits of soot and dried blood speckled the floor with every movement. The stone was more red than grey. "Help him," she panted. "Help him."

Malonyo rushed over and supported the other side of the Doctor with his good arm. Clara sighed, grateful for the relief. Martha whizzed around with a small whirring device in her hands. The fact that she hadn't said a word made Clara worry more than anything. 

"How bad is it, Martha?" Clara asked, afraid of her answer.

Martha met her eyes. "I don't know," she replied. Her voice was professional, but Clara could sense an undercurrent of worry present there. "I can't examine him in this state. I need him unfrozen." 

Clara nodded. "Well, let's get going then."

Does darkness really exist, or is it merely the absence of light? How can the absence of something have such a presence? It can be warm and inviting, or as cold as the vacuum of space. It hides in the light but never goes away. Perhaps Weeping Angels are just another kind of darkness. They live only when no light is shone upon them. 

The Doctor swam in this darkness. The paradox between life and death. Neither one nor the other. It felt like trying to swim through molasses. Did he exist anymore either? Was he really nothing more than a creature of the dark?

Something speckled the black. Stars, he realized. Muted colors began to swirl in the distance. Nebulas and galaxies dancing in their neverending tangos. Some looked familiar and some completely alien. Some looked almost correct, but a star or two would be off in every constellation. It was like a cheap counterfeit. Where was he?

He tried to breathe but felt no air enter his lungs. He could not hear his hearts beating, and there was nothing to feel. Was he frozen again? Was he still floating in space? Had Clara’s rescue been nothing more than a fever dream?

Suddenly, a focal point in the expanse appeared. Something small and orange. Blotches of purple dotted with dying red giant stars painted the space around the object. It drew closer and something about it felt incredibly familiar. 

Willing his brain to wake up just enough, he began to count the red giants. Their spacing, their sizes, the purple nebula they resided in. It felt like home, but why? He had no home, perhaps except his Tardis, which no longer existed either. 

The stars filled his vision and he was struck with a pang of realization. 

“It…it can't be,” he gasped breathlessly. “The Constellation of Kasterborous.” 

He shifted his gaze to the orange dot in the distance. “But that means…”

He felt frozen to the spot. His blood ran hot in his veins. He could now feel his hearts pounding ferociously in his chest as if he had seen a ghost. Orange and purple light began to bathe his skin as the object, clearly a planet, drew so close he could make out seas, continents, even a hurricane. The planet continued on its orbit and revealed its twin suns, eclipsed no more. He gasped. 

“Gallifrey.” 

The little Dalek escape pod shot out from the mothership into deep space. It was bronze colored and spherical, made of pure Dalekanium, and sported small thrusters studded around the exterior to help it navigate. It had reinforced windows on the front, back, and sides, presumably to scan for enemies, and a small phaser sprouted from a turret on the underside.

It sped towards the upper quasar of the black hole and Clara could only hope that between the hull and the Tardis shield it would hold. She and the Doctor had flown into quasars before without a scratch, but the Tardis was obviously not in the same state of health as before, so she just had to rely on faith. The pod seemed to have some shields of its own too. 

Clara watched the vessel grow tinier and tinier in the distance until it was finally swallowed up by the blinding light of the quasar beam. The Dalek mothership began to shake, fighting against the pull of the black hole with all its might. Clara gripped the data panel next to the pod doors and planted her feet for stability. The panel showed the progress of the pod which was now within range of the beams. It seemed to be resisting the black hole relatively well since it had such little mass. Clara had to admit, Dalek engineering wasn't half bad. 

The pod entered the beam and suddenly the data panel flickered and went blank. “No, no, no, no this can't be happening.” Clara started mashing buttons, desperately trying to get the data to return. It stayed blank. 

“Shit.”

“Clara, look!” Martha cried, pointing out the window. Clara spun around, following her gaze. Sure enough, a splash of color in the distance appeared. 

Clara’s heart swelled. “Is that…?”

“Yep.” Martha smiled, nodding her head. “The Matchstick Supernova.” A massive red giant had collapsed eons ago into an enormous black hole, encircled by a nebula of extraordinary pink and orange dust clouds, and punctuated by white quasar beams several planets wide shooting out from each pole. Clara had never seen anything like it. It was breathtaking. 

“It's beautiful.” Clara marveled. She looked to Martha. “Why is it called the Matchstick Supernova?”

Martha shrugged, “beats me. I guess it kind of looks like a burning match if you look at the quasar beams as the stick and the clouds as the flame.”

“Yeah.” Clara whispered. 

Captain Malonyo Scaye appeared in the doorway, resting against the posts. He looked out the window and hummed in approval. “Gorgeous, isn't it?” He walked up to join the two women. “We are about a half hour away. How do we want to do this?”

Clara and Martha looked to the Doctor, then back to the captain. “He said that Weeping Angels can gain power from cosmic energies as well as time energy,” Clara mused. “I accessed the Dalek archives to read up on Angels and the files seem to concur. We could drop him into one of the quasar beams with his Tardis crystal. It still has a functioning life support shield, so that should protect him from the worst of it.”

“Okay but hold on, back up.” Malonyo chuckled in disbelief. “You accessed the Dalek archives? How did you do that? We've been trying to get into the systems for weeks.”  

Clara shrugged. “I'm clever,” she smirked. 

Malonyo chuffed but did not question it. “So you want to send him into the quasar? You realize that those things are the most powerful jet streams of energy in the universe, right? It could tear him to shreds, and how the hell could we even get the ship close enough without cooking?”

“Direct all auxiliary power to shields and power up an escape pod. We can stay back and remotely pilot it into the quasar. The Tardis shields should be able to protect it enough.” ‘I hope,’ she thought. 

Malonyo smiled, impressed. “Alright, Captain Clara, let's do it.”

“Doctor, look!” Clara pointed out the window. 

The Doctor turned around and followed her gaze. Recognizing the celestial body they were passing, the Doctor knew their journey was nearing its end. “Ah, Pluto.” He smiled. What a sight for sore eyes. “I can't believe the pudding brains took away your planethood. What a shame. You're still a planet to me.”

Martha sauntered up to the pair. She had her arms crossed and a pleased look on her face. “Looks like we've entered Earth’s solar system.”

“Indeed.” The Doctor replied. He turned to the beloved old physician he called his friend. “Martha, what will you do when we get to Earth? Will you stay with us?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I've got plenty of work here. After we drop you two off, we're going to go resupply at the Europa moon base behind Jupiter, and then go find other Dalek Camps to liberate.”

She held up a photo of the Doctor waving with a cheeky grin. “See, we've got Clara’s program and this lovely picture of you to show the Daleks. Piece of cake.”

“Oh, so I've become a glorified computer virus then?” he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “A pop up ad?”

Martha snorted, “Yeah, pretty much.”

The Doctor smiled and held out his hand, “Martha, I can't thank you enough for taking care of me here. You saved my life.”

Martha ignored the offered hand and went for the hug instead. The Doctor stiffened up momentarily but then managed to hug back. Clara smirked. He was learning. 

“Whatever,” Martha laughed. “You've saved mine plenty of times before that. You owe me nothing.”

They broke the hug and Martha patted him on the chest where his pocket containing the Tardis crystal laid. “You just take care of yourself and Clara. Get that Tardis up and running again and visit me sometime, 'kay?”

“Yes, doctor.” The Doctor grinned warmly. “You've got my number. Well, when my phone line is back up anyway.”

Captain Scaye appeared next to them. Clara wondered how he could move so silently despite all those rustling scales. “We have reached Earth,” he announced. “We are currently in locked orbit over Cardiff.” He flashed a toothy reptilian grin, turning to Clara and the Doctor. “Are you two ready? Bags packed?”

Clara nodded. “We're ready to go home.”

“Good.” Malonyo smiled, pulling something out of his pockets. He fitted them with transporter bracelets and set the coordinates the Doctor had given him earlier. “It's about time we were rid of your carcasses. I've run out of coffee and sugar because of you two.”

“Shut up,” Clara giggled. She hugged the Silurian tightly, patting him on the back softly. She was going to miss the old lizard. “Thank you for everything, Malonyo. You've been an amazing Captain. Keep it up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he broke the hug. “I've gotten used to it now. First thing we're going to do at the outpost is ditch this ship for a new one. Maybe a few new ones. This one draws too much Dalek attention. I'm sure we could get a nice price for its parts.”

“I have to admit though,” he stroked a pillar mournfully. “I'm gonna miss her.”

“And not me?” Clara teased, her arms outstretched in a huffed gesture.

“You?” Malonyo chuckled. “Nah. Now get your asses to Earth. Your time rift awaits.”

The Doctor shook Malonyo’s scaly hand. “Farewell, Captain. Thank you for the ride.”

Malonyo’s arm had finally healed back to brand new again. He shook back with vigor, showing off its strength. “You're welcome. Come visit sometime. Bring your own coffee.” He fought back his emotions. He would never let on, but he was sad to see them go. He steadied his hand over a button on the access panel next to him. 

“Ready?” he asked.

Days passed and Earth was nearly within reach. Soon they would enter the Milky Way galaxy, and then maybe another day after that and they'd be there. 

Clara gazed out the window. This ship sucked compared to the Tardis. No time traveling and to get anywhere took forever. It felt like she was on a road trip that would never end. They had not restocked the ship in weeks now and she was beginning to tire of the same food and the same three pairs of clothes. Still, it definitely beat the Dalek camps. 

Clara looked behind her shoulder at the Doctor who laid on her bed, reading some ship manuals to pass the time. He turned to stone and a look of annoyance froze on his face with him. Clara giggled and shut her eyes. He reanimated with a huff. 

“Clara, you've made me lose my place!” he chided, waving the enormous book at her. “It was just starting to get good.”

“Uh huh,” she trilled, carefully making her way over to him. She had become quite good at this voluntary blindness thing. She knew every corner of the ship and her quarters, almost never bumping into anything while following around the Doctor. “Scoot over.”

The Doctor grumbled but obliged. The bed was small but relatively comfortable. The crew had picked it up at an outpost near the beginning of their journey. It had deep red sheets with a patterned golden quilt over the top. It looked like something out of the 1960s. It was warm and soft, and that was all she could ask for. 

Clara climbed into the bed next to him, snuggling up to his side. She laid on one of his wings and he made a face, trying to shift it to be more comfortable. “Clara, you're on my wing.”

“Shut up,” she giggled. “Stop wiggling.”

“But–”

“Do as you're told.”

The Doctor sighed, defeated. “Yes, ma’am.”