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redjademilktea · 2 months

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Hello hello!! I don't usually write things for Doctor Who, but I've been having the world's worst writers block and for some reason the only thing my brain wanted to actually put out into the world was this silly idea I had about an alternative Fourteenth Doctor. For some reason, this silly little part-of-a-story (or, first chapter in a longer fic?) is the only thing that would unclog my brain and allow me to actually write. It worked, and I am able to continue diss writing again, but I figured I'd share what I wrote here just so this thing has a purpose other than unblocking my writers block haha.

For context: this is an alternate idea for the Fourteenth Doctor. What if, instead of reaching for the face of a previous incarnation, the Doctor at the moment of her regeneration in Power of the Doctor instead reached for a past companion? One whose loss the Doctor had not yet fully processed? Whose presence meant so much to them? What if, when the Doctor regenerated, she found herself with Clara's face, instead of Ten's?

This story is my excuse to imagine Jenna Coleman as the Doctor, because she was incredible in Flatline (and all throughout her time on the show)!! And I wanted to see more of that. So, Clara!Doctor it is!!

This story takes place right after The Power of the Doctor and Thirteen's regeneration on those rocks by the ocean. The story itself largely occurs in Monterey, California, USA in October, 1994. It's not complete, but I actually will probably finish this up, since it was so fun to write. What I have of the story below!!

----

"Blossomiest blossom." The Doctor took in a deep, labored breath. She felt it surging now, the burst of temporal, regenerative energy jolting through her core. "That's the only sad thing, I want to know what happens next."

How many more sunrises would she get to see? How many more planets would she set foot on, the endless stars dotting their skies, stretching out towards infinity. So much possibility, all of it rapidly fading as the orange pink of sunrise crested into the more tangible reality of day.

How many more traps were there to purposefully walk into? And to barely escape from by the skin of her teeth and a face full of mattress (she still hand't thanked the TARDIS properly for that, for another lifetime, she supposed)? How many more beaches, endless waves and cool ocean rocks skipping along the rolling waters? How many more stones cast, hoping, wishing, begging that it could go on forever?

How many more places and timezones would she flee to, skip by, before the stones, the wishes ran out? How many more faces, how many more life times, until it all catches up to her? The angry, vengeful tide of time lost crashing over her like a ravenous tsunami? How many more scoops of ice cream would she muster up, before-

Well, no time for that now. That's up to the next one.

"Right then, Doctor-whoever-I'm-about-to-be," she smiled, the gentle warmth of the steady sunrise blending with the growing fire of change within her. "Tag, you're it."

----

She blinked. "She" was still the right way to describe who was doing the blinking, right? It felt correct. About the only thing that felt certain right now. That and the crashing waves. Why were there waves?

She looked down, tattered grey coat flapping in the cool breeze, enough to put out the remaining embers. She wobbled slightly as she attempted to ground herself.

Speaking of the ground, it was definitely closer now. About three inches closer. No. That wasn't right. She wasn't hunching like normal. Is that normal now? How was her posture? She should check now that she's- Wait, no, focus! Focus! What was she doing? That's right the ground. It was four inches closer, not three. Silly, silly...

An ominous clang from about twenty feet behind her. That was odd. That sounded incredibly familiar. Not a good familiar. The thought excited her. Oh, excited? Do ominous noises excite her now? She supposed they always did, to a degree, but something about the possibility here, the unknown, made the hair on her neck stand. Oh, she had a neck! More good news. What other body parts were-

Another clang, louder, more demanding. As if the sound was deliberately calling to her. She turned around, her hazy vision clarifying on the visage of a blue box. Box. Ship. Home. ...TARDIS!

Oh. The TARDIS, with scorch marks crisscrossing the front paneling. That must have been- She really needed to be more careful of where she chose to do this sort of thing.

She rushed towards the door, fumbling for where she left... The door openy thing. The metal jangly thing that let her inside places. Sonic! Wait no, that's not right. K-key! Yes her key. Where was-

The door clicked open as if pulling her inside. That certainly saved her rather valuable brains capacity to better orient herself. She ran towards it, the breeze blowing her hair back on the way in. Hair! Was it- No. Not ginger. She would know if it was ginger. That's not something one could miss. This hair felt... Well she didn't know what it felt like. It felt a little longer than last time, about shoulder length. It felt... well whatever it felt like, it didn't feel ginger. Maybe next go around.

Another clang rang out as she made her way towards the console. The dazzling array of vibrant and emphatically glowing buttons caused her already racing hearts-beat to skyrocket in anticipation. So many buttons. So many options. She should spend some time to figure out- Unless... she hand't pressed that one before. Who knows what that one did. She better check. It could very well solve whatever had the TARDIS acting up. At the very least she'll know that it wouldn't fix it. And knowledge gleaned was knowledge gleaned.

She reached for the blaring button, eyes glimmering with anticipation. The smirk was already firmly on her face before it registered in her mind. What next? She hit the button.

With a loud whirr and an even louder crash, she found herself on the floor, no mattress in sight to break her fall. Another crash sent her careening towards one of the glowing pillars surrounding the console. She may have to re-check her posture after that one. Reassess.

Another explosion and a screeching whirr and another toss and-

----

October 25th, 1994 - 3:32 PM

Monterey, CA, USA

Cass sighed. She hated working on Tuesdays. Granted, she hated working here on any given day, but Tuesdays were a particularly awful experience.

She looked around the diner, idly noting the older woman in the corner sitting with a coffee and her newspaper and the family of tourists seated towards the counter. For a brief moment, she considered checking in on either table before deciding against it. There were only so many times she could ask if they needed refills before it started affecting her tip.

Another exacerbated sigh. All the empty tables had been wiped down. The floor was spotless. All dishes and cups were cleaned and put away. All the décor dusted (a notable feat to be sure, the eccentric collection of 1950s themed paraphernalia seemed to always have some pore or crevice or corner that needed cleaning, the task was almost sisyphean in Cass's opinion).

She walked over to the photo of John Steinbeck hung over the jukebox in the corner, the tinny chiming of Buddy Holly and the Crickets growing louder as she approached. She leaned over to realign the portrait. Whether or not the portrait was askew before was unimportant, the goal of sating her boredom was accomplished. As she pulled back to admire her unnecessary handiwork, the door chimed.

"Grab a table wherever, I'll be with you in-" the familiar sight of Mae's denim jacket caught the corner of Cass's eye as she glanced over the photo. Perfectly straight. Like it had been before. She turned to face her friend more fully.

"Slow day huh," Mae said, nodding her head in the direction of the portrait.

"You could say that," Cass responded, smirking as she headed towards the counter. "You want the usual?"

"I could probably use it, got a long night of fish house keeping ahead of me I guess."

"At least it's not the otters."

"If it was the otters I'd at least have a cute reason for smelling like death."

"Fair," Cass laughed as she finished pouring the coffee into the mug. She slid it over to Mae, who had taken up her usual stool at the end of the counter. "Anything new going on?"

"Other than grad research and fish kicking my ass? Not much really," Mae answered, taking a small sip and blowing on the surface of the coffee in an effort to cool it.

"Gonna at least head out this weekend for the beach before the weather gets too bad?" Cass leaned onto the counter, giving Mae her full attention.

"I can't. Oh! I didn't tell you. I got new ink!" Mae shrugged off her loose jacket to reveal the sight of a wrapped tattoo on her upper arm. "So freaking cool, right?"

Cass looked over the tattoo, the wisping clouds of inky smoke surrounding the number 27. The font was striking, and the line work and artistry lent itself to the gothic imagery that Mae so readily embraced.

"Woah, this looks incredible," Cass moved closer. For a half second, she swore the smoke looked like it was drifting up. She blinked. The static image remained before her. Brushing the tinge of confusion aside, Cass looked back up at Mae. "Where'd you get it done?"

"This new place that opened up a few blocks down. Jaime told me about it."

At that, Cass raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were 'never talking to that asshole again'?"

"Look, he helped me after his shift was over and I was drowning in work. Can you blame me? Plus, I'm not not gonna notice a sick tattoo like this, regardless of what asshole it's attached to."

Cass sighed as she met Mae's eyes, the green of them assuaging her mild annoyance. "Mhmm. Just... be careful this time? Okay?"

"Hey, I learned my lesson. You don't have to worry," a smile lined with the warmth of affection grew on Mae's face. "Plus, I know you'll kick his ass if he does something stupid."

At that, Cass laughed more fully. "Sure. But you can't expect me to be there every time a guy needs his ass kicked. I have a life too."

"What? Admiring old Johnny back there keeping you occupied?"

"Hey, careful. He's got grapes of wrath headed your way if you keep talking shit."

"Oh? That's the kind of guy you're into huh?"

A slight sting. It really shouldn't still bother her. She knew what she was signing herself up for when she moved back. The familiar trappings of a well-worn closet. She was used to it. She could handle the gentle suffocation. She was used to it.

"Something like that." Cass pulled back, standing up a little straighter. "I'm always here if you need anything."

"I know," Mae responded, placing a gentle hand over Cass's. Cass found her cheeks flushing slightly. She pulled her hands away.

A loud crash and the frantic cling of the door chime caused both women to jolt upright. They were greeted by the sight of a woman, short, dark brown hair, flowing grey trench coat, all but falling over as she burst through the door.

"Sorry! Sorry." She made eye contact with Cass. Something about the intensity of her gaze threw Cass off balance. "I'm looking for..." the woman sighed, massaging her temples. "What was it?" she squeezed her eyes shut, as if struggling to keep focus. "Paper clips! Yes, do you happen to have 3 paper clips? About this big? Or a stapler. But no more than half full."

Cass blinked, the shock giving way to utter bewilderment. She looked to Mae, who wore a similarly confounded expression.

"Half full... of staples?" Cass managed to find her voice.

"That's it," the woman responded. Was that... British? "Actually, I take that back. The paper clips are probably more versatile. Unless you happen to have those smaller ones that you can carry around and open up. Not the bulky ones. Those will-"

The woman stopped suddenly, as she took in her surroundings. "Hang on," she looked around. Cass followed her line of sight as she scanned the diner. "Have I been here before?"

While Cass honestly had very little idea what was happening in the scene unfolding before her, she certainly knew the answer to that question.

"Definitely not," Cass said.

"Are you sure?" the woman responded, continuing her survey of the space around her. Her brow furrowed.

"I think I'd remember if a British lady with a scorched jacket stumbled into here before, yeah." Cass said, a bemused grin now firmly in place.

"British la- Oh that's right! Does it still suit me?"

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm sure it does. Your accent... American. With a bit of vocal fry. Californian? Not Southern Californian. Am I in California?"

"Wow," Mae blurted out, breaking her stunned silence. She turned back to Cass, matching her incredulous smile. "And... where did you think you were?"

"Last I remember, by the ocean," the woman whipped around, looking out the diner window. "And it looks like I still am. Different ocean though. Judging by the wave patterns at least."

"And that ocean was... here? On planet Earth?" Mae asked. Cass swatted at her non-tattooed arm. "What?"

"Don't make fun of her."

"I'm just curious!"

"The Atlantic if I'm remembering right," the woman continued on, seemingly unfazed. "Last few hours are a bit fuzzy," the woman responded, still firmly peering out the window at the beach.

"I bet they are," Mae said under her breath. "Ow, hey!"

Cass pulled back her hand from the follow-up swat. Then, to the woman, "Are... Are you alright? Can I get you anything? Call... some... one...?" Her voice trailed off, uncertain of what she was even supposed to do in a situation like this.

"What like a doctor?" Mae laughed.

At that, the woman turned around. "Why? Do you know one?" She quickly made her way back to the counter.

"No. At least not personally?" Mae responded, taken aback by the woman's sudden proximity.

"Oh. Shame. I feel like a doctor would be helpful right now, but I can't put a finger on why. Wait." The woman turned back abruptly, heading straight towards the portrait of John Steinbeck in the corner. "Oh, old Johnny. I haven't seen him since the whole thing with those angry grapes."

Mae and Cass exchanged looks. The woman stepped back slightly.

"If he's here then... Monterey? Cannery Row. And..." the woman walked over and yanked the newspaper out of the hands of the elderly person who was taking in the scene in stunned silence. "Ah! 1994." She placed the paper back into the older woman's hands. "I figured, with a coat like that," the woman nodded her head towards Mae.

"Wh-wait what is that supposed to mean?" Mae stuttered as Cass burst out with laughter. "Have you even looked at what you're weari-"

Suddenly, a loud whirlwind of noise emanated from outside. A cacophony of caws echoed through the air, almost filling Cass's lungs and knocking her over with their sheer volume. A scream from a man rang out as a blur of black feathers swarmed past the window.

"What was that?" Cass said, moving towards the window. The woman followed.

"Ravens," was her only response before she all but ran out the door. Cass looked at Mae and then out to the rest of the diner. Before she could even begin to second guess herself, she took off after the woman.

----

"Hey!" Cass shouted as she gasped for breath. This woman was incredibly quick. She seemed to change directions as fast as she changed trains of thought. "Wait! What are you-"

The woman turned her head as Cass caught up to her, but she didn't slow down. "Aren't you still on the job?" is all she responded with as she bolted towards the source of the sound.

A large flock of ravens circled the late afternoon sky. Further down the road by the pier, a man stood, seemingly at the center of the confluence of feathers and caws. The man screamed again. As Cass and the woman closed in, she could make out the terrified look that locked itself onto the man's face. He stood in the plaza at the front of the pier, in front of a monument depicting several bronze figures in various poses around and on top of a jutting pile of rocks. The ravens circled, cries increasing in volume. The cacophony was almost disorienting.

The woman stopped on the corner of the street, directly across from where the man whose growing panic manifested in more regular screams. The ravens seemed to respond, almost a delighted symphony of calls, as if toying with the man. Cass came to a crashing halt at the woman's abrupt cessation of movement. The looming red of the building next to them seemed to amplify the sheer confusion and anxiety now rippling through Cass.

"What's-" Cass panted, "What's happening?!"

"Quantum shades." The woman responded, plainly.

"Qua- what?"

"Quantum shades. I've seen this before. Where have I seen this before?" The woman began rubbing her temples, her eyes squeezing shut as if struggling desperately to recall something.

"This is a common thing?" Cass asked. She wasn't sure what answer she was expecting. Or what answer would quell her frayed nerves.

"Not common. At least not in this corner of the universe anyway. Not right now at least. Give it twenty years. Hang on!" the woman seemed to light up at an apparent connection that flew right over Cass's head. Along with about twenty thousand other things, she supposed. "That sounds familiar! You don't plan on stranding yourself in London a few decades from now do you?" the woman gave an inquisitive look at Cass. Cass could only respond by opening and closing her mouth several times.

Suddenly, the beats of wings and the rain of dark feathers grew more frantic. The man continued to let out horrified yelps as he climbed the center art fixture, crouching among the statues in a vain attempt to find cover. In response to this, the woman reached into her flowing coat and produced a peculiar looking device.

It was gleaming silver, intricate patterns carved along it. The shape and bend of the object was akin to a bulky looking spoon, however the "handle" end of the object was capped off with a strange looking stone.

The woman held up the device, pointing it at the frenzied flock. With a whir, the stone at the top of the device glowed a bright orange as it rotated. Cass's eyes widened at the sight. The woman held the device sideways, as if reading something. Her face shifted from determined curiosity into worry.

"That's what I was afraid of," she said, eyes shifting back to the man.

"What's happening? Is he alright?" Cass asked. Her worry for the man's safety doubling.

The woman seemed to consider her question for a moment. She turned to face Cass more fully. Her deep brown eyes betrayed a calculating stare, as if she was assessing every aspect of Cass's being. Cass shuddered.

She seemed to find what she was looking for, as she stepped back slightly and straightened her posture. "Quantum shades," she repeated. "Beings of pure probability. Their motives are..." the woman paused, looking back at the terrified man who was now attempting to swat away the circling birds. "Their motives are hard to pin down. Almost like they change the moment you look away." A rueful smirk appeared on her face. "But some outcomes are more likely." She began walking slowly towards the man, a stunned Cass right behind her.

"These birds? Are quantum... They- they're not crows?" Cass asked, a half a step behind the woman.

"Ravens." the woman corrected. "And no. They take on a form when observed. Otherwise, they exist purely as a wave function across space and time."

"Across space and..." Cass muttered under her breath. "Okay... then what do they want with that man?"

"They're hunting." At Cass's bewildered expression, the woman expanded. "They feed off of the unrealized potential of a being's wave function. Every being, every object, every particle has a wave function. It represents all the possible paths one can take. For example, I could turn right and walk down the street at this moment. Just totter off. And never look back."

"And you're not going to?"

At that, the woman smiled. She looked down at the name tag on Cass's lapel. "Cass, eh? Good name. I'm... I'm..." the woman stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed. "Ugh I knew I was forgetting something! Never mind," she turned back to Cass. "Like I was saying. I could bugger off in that direction. Stop by for a cuppa at a café. Maybe take a stroll through the aquarium near sunset."

Cass raised an eyebrow. "And...?"

"And, I could keep walking straight. Right towards that man. These choices. All of it is possible. And they radiate out across time and space as a wave function. Some things are more likely than others of course, but anything is possible."

"I don't understand," Cass said, looking towards the scene before her. "What does this... why do they want him?"

Another scream as the ravens began pointedly swooping in, swiping at the man'n shoulder.

"What are they doing?" Cass asked, stepping forward as if compelled. She didn't understand why. But she wanted to do... something. "What- Can we help him?"

The woman turned back, smile returning more fully now. "Now you're asking the right questions." She reached out, and before Cass could process it, the woman had her by the hand and was pulling her towards the central plaza.

"Quantum shades hunt by collapsing the wave function of a being into a single." The woman explained, pulling Cass along. "Every possibility, every moment of their possible futures, every place they can run..." The man swatted furiously as he continued to scream, clinging to the peak of the rock pile. "All transfixed into one point on the fabric of space and time. And that point becomes their death."

"They're going to- How do we help him?" Cass's fear had melted away slightly, to her surprise. In its place, something strange. Determination?

"That all depends on what kind of shades we're dealing right now. Right now. I should clarify." The woman held up her silvery device again. "If I scan them, it should collapse their wave function to this moment and we can get a read on what their goal is." A whir, then a few more buzzing sounds as the woman squinted at the device. "Like I said, some things are more likely than others. It looks like these shades are looking for..." A grim look flashed across her face. "Unrealized potential."

"His unrealized potential."

"Yes." The woman responded, flatly. "Alright Cass," she grabbed onto Cass's hand again. "Let's put those waitressing skills to the test, yeah?"

----

#doctor who #fic #my fic #thirteenth doctor #clara oswald #basically 'I thought Jenna Coleman played an incredible Doctor in Flatline'#'and I wanna see what it would look like if she played the Doctor full time'#the fic

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