I Didn't Mean It (Doctor Who)

Epilogue

A/N: I finally did it! After numerous requests, I made an epilogue for you guys. I have a feeling most of you won't be satisfied with it because it won't necessarily change anything that happened in the last chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy it, nevertheless. This chapter is filled with references to past companions in the show and 2 specific ones that reference Alice herself. I hope you catch them all! Love you all!

Also a quick side note: Alice was a companion AFTER Amy and BEFORE Clara in my story.
~oOo~

Clara's P.O.V.

I don't know the Doctor.

Nobody does.

It feels like I've been traveling with him for a lifetime, and yet he still seems just as strange to me as the day he showed up on my doorstep; just a nameless, floppy-haired, bow tie-wearing mystery that I've spent years trying (and failing) to solve.

I know there have been others. Others like me, who were drawn in with hopes of putting together the gory but equally fantastic details that made up the enigma of the Doctor.

I know the Bad Wolf, the Woman Who Walked the Earth, the Most Important Woman in the Whole of Creation, and I know the Girl Who Waited. But never the names. Never the faces.

He talks about them as if they are stories; fictional characters in his own personal book of life.

But they are real. Little pieces of them are scattered around the TARDIS like missing pieces to a puzzle. He says they are the pieces that never allow him to forget the ones who came before me.

The pair of rounded glasses and the yellowing, torn Afterward page of a book I've never heard of. The bowl of fish sticks and custard he occasionally rests on the console and indulges in right around Christmas.

Perhaps the most intriguing to me is the tattered bow tie he keeps on the nightstand of the room I'm never allowed to go in; it sits right beside an untouched copy of The Great Gatsby he pulled from the library. I peeked inside the room one day. There's nothing in it but a royal blue bedspread and a nice view of the stars. The room has never been used, and yet it still feels full of life.

He told me this room is different to him. It's not what was, it's what could've been. The bow tie, the book; they belong to someone he should've known, but never did. No matter how many times I nag him about it, he never explains to me what that means.

Now, as I wake up at 3 AM to the familiar jolt of the TARDIS taking off, I don't realize that I'm about to figure it out.

"Doctor? What's happening?" I ask as I reach the console room, groggily rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

The Doctor is sprawled out on the TARDIS floor surrounded by a mass of research papers. He frantically goes between sloppily jotting something down in a notebook to reaching up to pull a lever on the TARDIS console, muttering something softly to himself.

I clear my throat, hoping to catch his attention this time. He glances up at me with the same surprised look as he always gives me, as if he had forgotten that I was here.

"I've found her, Clara. I've finally found her," the Doctor hops to his feet and grins at me hysterically.

"Found who?"

The Doctor ignored me, continuing to make his way around the console while excitedly talking to himself, "It took quite a bit of work, actually. First I had the TARDIS read the DNA from an inhaler I found in her pocket after she fell-"

"Doctor!" I cut him off, finally drawing his attention. "Who is it? Who did you find?"

"The girl on the roof, of course. The one I was supposed to know. At least...I think I was supposed to know her..." the Doctor trails off, fiddling with something in his pocket, "She gave me this."

He opens his palm to reveal the tattered bow tie from the bedroom, smoothing the fabric with his thumb.

"I...uh, I did a little research. Her house burned down when she was eleven years old. Daleks. She died to stop whatever they did to her when she was eleven from affecting me. But, if I went back before her house burned down..."

"You could see her," I finish his sentence softly. We both look up at each other, excited grins slowly forming on our faces. "You could find out who she was."

The Doctor's hand launches forward to hover over a button on the TARDIS console, "So, shall we?"

I grip the rails and ground my feet on the TARDIS floor, feeling the strange mixture of excitement and fear that has become wonderfully familiar to me in the past year or so. The TARDIS lifts off and within seconds it plonks back down, signaling our landing.

The Doctor is standing frozen by the console, glancing between me and the door.

"Well, c'mon, let's take a look," I say, gesturing with my hand for him to follow as I walk towards the exit.

He lingers at the center of the TARDIS, his eyebrows furrowed in that familiar, troubled expression he always seems to be sporting.

I analyze him for a moment longer before bursting into giggles. "Wait a minute. You're nervous, aren't you? The Doctor, the oncoming storm himself, is afraid of talking to a little girl?" I say sarcastically.

The Doctor crosses his arms pointedly, "I am not afraid."

As if to prove me wrong, he marches toward the door and moves his hand to open it, stopping only briefly to think it over before pushing.

The door slowly creaks open to reveal a rain-slicked street lined with small, suburban houses. I can just barely read the words Lynn Street on the street sign outside through the steady veil of pouring rain that blurs the area around us.

The Doctor rushes outside as if the melancholy sight before us is something to be excited about. I reluctantly follow him, the rain instantly plastering my hair to my face. I raise my eyebrows as we reach a little blue house with a large tree looming out front.

As we approach the steps leading up to the porch, a vague figure of a girl comes into view. She sits sheltered under the roof of her house, a tattered book propped up on her bent knees. She hardly seems to notice us at first, tucking an unruly strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear to stare more intently at her book. She appears to be around eight or nine.

The Doctor approaches more slowly as he makes his way up the steps to get closer to her. She glances up at him and jumps in surprise, taking a puff of the inhaler that sits beside her and setting her book down.

"H-hi there. I'm the Doctor. I've been wanting to meet you for a very long time," the Doctor says gently.

Rather than taking a cautious step back like I thought she would, the girl takes a brave step forward; towards him.

She extends her hand out towards the Doctor, who continues to stare at her in awe for a few moments longer before taking it enthusiastically.

She grins at him as if she's known him for years and says softly,
"Hi, I'm Alice."