{remember me for we shall meet again};;

I blew into this world on a leaf, I'm not sure if I'll ever land.

I'm Clara Oswald, I'm the impossible girl--and I was born to save the Doctor.

 

ɪᴛ’s ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ || ᴄᴏᴍᴀ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴜ || ᴏᴘᴇɴ

stillxcooking:

            When working in a hospital, especially the ICU wing where John spent the majority of his days, fighting until the brutal end, one starts to think of death as just another co-worker — always looking over your shoulder with the same annoying demands as every one else you work with.That doesn’t mean, though, that when a patient is rushed through the halls of the ICU and already the dark shadow of death is hanging over their body that a Doctor should just get up and hand in ‘the ol’ base-ball glove’.

            Everyone deserves a chance at spare time—- even if it is just a couple of seconds.

                        And John Smith always fights for those few seconds.

                Because they truly can make a difference.

       That much, he knows.

            Half a olive-loaf sandwich in hand, John made small talk with the few nurses behind the ICU desk he sat upon. Green eyes always looked just past the people before him, always watching the main hall entrance as sleep dragged at his lids. It had been twenty-two hours until he last had sleep and a near straight week since he had been back at his lonely apartment. An apartment that would never feel as much like home as the Double Heart Hospital did. 

            Then it happened—— right as he was placing a gentle request for another pot of burned coffee, five scrubbed interns, their stethoscopes bouncing against their chests as they ran, went past. In their clutches, carted on a simple light blue stretcher, rested a woman. Her hair spilled around her as if she was suspended in space. The wound on her temple spilled blood, its edges noticeably purple beneath the curtain of red. 

            Immediately, Doctor Smith jumped into action, sliding off the desktop to take control of the gurney and lead it into the nearest empty room. Once inside, he lowered the braces and set to work—- IVs and instruments of all sorts falling into his clutches as he slaved to grant that woman her few extra seconds.

                                                                       ***

            Dull green hues slid across the sleeping beauty; banished to what seemed like an eternal sleep. It had only been one day since he bought her- Clara Oswald -the time she deserved, what was he to expect? A change in her condition? A flutter of eye lids? A spike in brain-wave normality? 

                                    Yes.

            But never was there a day spent in the Hospital where everything came to a quick, painless, and happy solution. 

        She was lost within herself. Everything nothing but a dream, but to her, it didn’t seem it. Everything–everything she touched was real. To her, she was fine. Back to her normal life. With her mum and dad and her job. Her perfectly ordinary life. Because that’s what manifested in her mind. To compensate. To cope with the idea that she was now sleeping for an indefinite amount of time. 

        Tea time, as it seemed. Nice cuppa tea would melt away everything that was making her feel like things were off. Because they weren’t. Everything was perfectly normal. Only thing–the days were starting to mesh together. And not in the way they usually did. No. It was like they literally were meshing together. At nights, when she closed her eyes, she’d just wake up again. Start a new day. And this went on for she had no idea how long.