clashildr one shots

Cries in the Night

  Ashildr stared down at the man for an uncomfortable length of time, lips pressed together and brows furrowed. "A parasite that causes aggression and unprovoked violence? Isn't that a bit 28 Days Later?"
Clara turned her head slowly around and stared Ashildr right in the eye. Ashildr looked back, bewildered.
"28 Days Later?" Clara said. "You can remember a midrange horror film from the 2000's but not our 50th anniversary?"
"This is not the time, Cla-"
"Why do I have a feeling it never will be? I only watched that film with you because Naomie Harris is in it. And, thinking about it, maybe Cillian Murphy-"
"If you could have this domestic on your way out." The general wheezed from the effort of talking. One of the boys wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. "I'd rather like to die... Free of your sinning."
Clara felt Ashildr remember what it was to be dying at the exact same time as she did. Poor sod.
  "Be on your way, please. He needs peace."
The wind picked up a little outside - the canvas of the tent flapped threateningly around its occupants' ankles.
Ashildr took Clara's hand and pulled her out back into the field. As the putrid stench hit her once more, Clara nearly collapsed - she caught herself just before falling face-first down the side of the valley.
She was aware, in the back of her mind, that this was not a battle they were capable of winning.
And it sucked.
Once back within the safely breathable air of the diner, the two sank down onto the floor with their backs to the glass doors and stared out onto the linoleum.
"There's nothing we can do. The planet's dead. There's three men left."
Ashildr took Clara's hand. The planets where they were uninaquivecaboly too late were the worst - they plonked themselves down in the middle of a warzone, the walking banner of false hope, simply to discover that, sometimes, history takes it course.
The silence of the diner swarmed around them like the Vashta Nerada of denial, faintly tinged around the edges with plan-making, before slowly melting into the ever burning malcontent that came with the feeling of hopelessness.
"28 Days Later?"
Clara's voice broke the silence.
The glass in front of the acceptance shattered.
"Clara, my love, light of my life, I am telling you that there is a difference between films and anniversary dates! Do you have any idea how much history I have to remember?"
"And you don't remember films?"
"By the time films came out, I'd been reading for centuries. There are only so many plots. Good films stick with me. Besides, I was mega goth in the 21st Century, so the zombie apocalypse vibe was exactly what I needed."
"Until 2020 happened."
"Yes, well, that was certianly not fun."

A/N: Yes, I am aware, "ooh corpses oh old man oh no lets go home :/" is an awful story but what CAN you do