I had previously posted this on ao3 just a few minutes ago, but my friend wanted it here too. I hope you enjoy.
----
They were drawn to it, Claire realized.
Even as aliens, they were drawn to the sound of this teenager's music. Classical music was beautiful after all.
These aliens, oddly enough, were attracted to Claire's music, to be exact. Even as the Doctor, his tenth incarnation to be exact, tried everything in his power to tell her to leave, that he could find another way instead of her being trapped in this bubble of music forever. But being a copy of Clara, she would not leave her position, despite the fact any normal person would have ran off. Her hands deftly moved through the keys of the piano, as she played the tune of one of Chopin's Ballades (the second one) by Frederick Chopin. This echo of Clara, named Claire, had these monsters under her spell, but she was aware if she stopped, they would kill her and all the other men and women in the room. There was no way she could assure their safety as well as her own.
"Claire!" The Doctor cried, banging on the bubble that surrounded her and the monsters, "There's another way, there has to be! We could try to mimic your playing, perhaps with a speaker? There has to be something!"
"A speaker won't work. They like live performances, remember?" She said over her loud playing, watching as he tried his sonic. She knew this song by heart, as it was one of the last her mother had taught her before this mess. She watched as the Doctor paced, trying to come up with a plan. Claire knew there would be no plan, she knew this was it. She'd die at the ripe age of sixteen. "Just...run. Isn't that what you said you did? You run away? Get these people to safety, figure a way to kill these aliens. It's your job, isn't it, Doctor?"
"Claire-"
"Go!"
---
She woke up with a jolt, a thick layer of sweat drenching her and her ivory sheets. Clara took deep breaths, allowing the tears that she didn't know she was shedding fall silently. This was the fifth dream Clara had of this woman, her echo. Claire Oswald. A young aspiring musician with a love for anything that involved an instrument and music notes. Clara was used to this by now, having random fits of nightmares that involved previous lives, but Claire was a repeat offender in terms of seeping into her dreams. She refused to worry the Doctor further after the events of Trenzalore, so she kept it all to herself, even if she was terrified of these fleeting dreams.
But even if they were dreams, they felt so real to Clara. She could remember the little things about Claire and recite them by verbatim, if prompted to do so. Claire always wore skirts to all her performances, even if it wasn't appropriate to do so. Her favorite color was crimson red, she called her piano Bristol, and she loved every instrument, but the piano held a special place in her heart. Claire would always visit her mum after a competition and they would celebrate with a celebratory souffle, often a vanilla one. Claire was well received by the musical industry and they all loved how well she could play, with little to no error.
Clara slowly sat up, allowing her fingers to go through her brown locks. Damp with sweat. She sighed and decided to get out of bed, though her legs were quite uncooperative and she stumbled towards the dresser where a picture of the Doctor and herself lay, holding a souffle that for once- did not die. She smiled at their frozen faces, looking at the pure delight on her own face, as well as the pure proud look the Doctor had as he took the selfie to keep as an everlasting memory. Clara's first successful souffle. It was vanilla, Clara remembered. She groaned as another memory washed over her.
---
Claire watched the two men speak about her performance on the telly as she helped her mother create another vanilla souffle for achieving first place once more. It was her fifth time doing so, but she felt accomplished nonetheless.
"And there she goes, Claire Oswald, age fifteen, playing a wonderful rendition of Ave Maria by Schubert, along with Charlotte Rose, her best friend who is accompanying her with her trusty violin. I don't see why she or Charlotte even bother to go for these measly competitions, they're so talented!"
"That's because she follows in her mother's footsteps, remember Alfred? Eleanor Oswald, the retired musician?"
"I remember clearly, Emery." Alfred nodded in response, his eyes looking back to the camera, which was recording every second of their conversation, "Eleanor was an advocate in charity work, before she retired, correct?"
"Including this one. People come to see her play, to see if she's similar to her mother." Emery stated as if it were fact.
"And would you say she was, Mr. Thane?" Alfred questioned. Emery's emerald eyes glimmered with amusement as he adjusted the papers on the table.
"Absolutely." Claire smiled at Emery's comment and looked back towards her mum, who was watching her with content written all over her face.
"Mum!" She said, feeling her cheeks grow how. Her mum smiled.
"Sorry, Claire, you just looked so happy. You know how uncle Emery is."
"Just because he's my uncle doesn't mean I can't revel in the fact that he complimented me!" Claire responded and her mother's smile only widened as she opened the oven and placed the ramekin inside. Claire watched as her mother closed the oven door and removed her oven mitts.
"Of course, darling. You're an amazing musician. You'll make a difference."
"I'll be just like you." Claire responded and her mum enveloped her in a hug. Her mum smelled like vanilla extract and souffle mix, the two things Clara loved the most. Eleanor felt like home.
"Of course, Claire, just like me."
---
The uncanny resemblance that Eleanor had of Ellie made Clara uncomfortable. Clara knew her echo probably had similar interests as almost all her echos seem to have, but seeing a version of Ellie shocked Clara as it was. Clara shook her head, standing straight once her short legs decided to work properly. She walked out the hall, hearing silence besides the light hum of the TARDIS. Though she had no idea where to go, the TARDIS seemed to be directing her, despite their strange hatred. Perhaps since Clara did save the Doctor, her mystery was solved to the TARDIS.
"Where are you taking me?" She asked to the machine, which whirred in response. Clara frowned in annoyance. "I wish I could understand what you're telling me. The Doctor can understand you just fine, it's not really fair." Clara fiddled with the hem of her shirt, walking around the never ending hallway. The machine hummed. "I'm just going to assume you didn't say anything offensive and just continue on to wherever it is we're going."
After what felt like ages to Clara, she finally found a door. She prayed it wasn't something particularly distasteful as she opened the door. To her surprise, she found a large band room, filled with different instruments, some that she didn't even recognize. It was as if the TARDIS knew what was on her mind. But those didn't matter to Clara, the only instrument she was particularly interested in lay in the middle, waiting for her.
The piano.
She found herself sitting down and her hand brushed the keys, but it only served to deliver another memory of Claire.
----
"Mummy!"
"Slow down, Claire, the piano isn't going to run away." Her mum laughed, watching as the little Claire ran up towards the piano, which looked absolutely enormous in the five year old's eyes. She stared at it for a short while, then felt warm hands grab her sides and lift her up the bench. Claire giggled as her mother sat beside her, lifting the fallboard and allowing Claire to fully bask in it's black and white glory. Claire grinned as she tried to lift her short arms up to slam down onto the keys but Eleanor stopped her.
"Sweetheart, a piano is like a best friend. Don't slam on the keys. You have to be nice to it and promise that you'll treat it well."
"But it's not alive, Mummy." Claire responded. "Pianos don't have feelings."
"Of course not, dear. But what you feel in here," Her mum pointed towards Claire's chest, "will be expressed through this instrument and many more if you choose to learn all the other instruments the world has to offer." Claire nodded, looking towards the large grand piano and closed her eyes, her small hands hovering over the keys.
"I, Claire Ellabell Oswald, will take care of this piano will all my heart. I will allow my emotions to flow through it and let it be apart of me. I hope it does the same. I'll name you Bristol. I hope you like me Bristol, I like you." Claire withdrew her hands and looked up to her mum for approval, only to find her mum's eyes glassy. "Mum?"
"That was beautiful, Claire."
"Why are you crying?" Claire asked, lifting her hand to wipe the tear from her mother's cheek. "Didn't I do good?"
"Of course, Claire, you were amazing. It's just," She paused, sighing, "I made that same promise too."
----
The music stand already held a piece from Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Songs Without Words Op. 19 No. 4 in A-major. Quite the mouthful. Though Clara had never practiced piano, her fingers easily played with no problems whatsoever. The feeling felt phenomenal. She felt like she was floating on the music as she read the music notes like she knew what they actually meant. Clara was so engrossed with her piano playing, she hardly heard the Doctor's footsteps. She did however, notice his presence when he turned the page of the music for her. She ceased in her playing and peered up towards him, eyes slightly wide. She noticed he wasn't wearing his jacket, his top had several unbuttoned buttons and his bow tie wasn't tied. It was strange to see him so loose, so...relaxed. Her surprised brown eyes met his aged, yet beautiful brown ones.
"Doctor." She whispered and the Doctor gave her a small smile.
"Clara." He responded.
"I didn't think you could hear me." She squeaked.
"To be fair, my bedroom is right besides the music room. You did leave the door open after all." He gestured towards the open door.
"You have a bedroom?" She asked, eyes narrowing. He nodded sheepishly.
"Even I have to sleep, even if they are in small moments in time. I don't use it often, really." He paused, as if contemplating on what to say. He gestured towards the piano, "I didn't know you could play."
"I can't." She admitted as she moved over to allow him to sit. He did so and looked towards her in surprise.
"What I heard was absolute perfection. And that's coming from someone who personally trained with Chopin and Schubert a few regenerations ago. What do you mean you can't play?" He asked, frowning.
"Claire could." Clara responded, biting her lip, "Do you remember her?" He could see the gears in his mind turning, debating his answer as if it was the most important thing in the universe. After a few moments, he let his chin hit his chest and he shook his head.
"I...don't."
"It's okay, I thought so." Clara's voice had a sense of disappointment, despite the fact she tried to hide it. The Doctor's head snapped up and he shook his head with more vigor.
"It's not, no, it isn't okay." The Doctor said, "You have all these memories of people that saved me and I don't even remember them. You sacrificed your life so many times and I, the person you saved, can't remember a single thing!"
"Doctor-" She tried to interject, but the Timelord just continued on, much to Clara's surprise.
"You scattered yourself like confetti at a party but there's nothing to celebrate. You've died and suffered all for me." The Doctor urged on, "You didn't even have to."
"That confetti celebrated you. Celebrated every good day and every bad day of yours." Clara responded, "That's the greatest celebration I could ever see." The Doctor laughed, but the mirth wasn't quite there.
"Celebration or not, I still...I still thought you were the trick, the trap that the universe presented me with. I wanted to figure you out." The Doctor seemed to just spill his thoughts out, unlike his normal self with his first rule and whatnot, "But I ended up being that trap, I did this, Clara. I made you suffer-" Clara silenced him with a finger to his lips.
"Why can't you just accept that I did the saving?"
"Because that's my job! I save the companions!" He argued, removing the finger from his lips, his cheeks quite red. Clara only smiled.
"And saving you is my job." She countered, then her eyes slowly went towards the piano. "It was your tenth incarnation who saw her. Creatures hiding in human skin, trying to kill everyone, take over the world, the usual stuff. They were attracted to music, out of all things. Claire told him to get everyone out, far away. She was only sixteen." Clara could hear the sharp intake of breath from the Doctor, "But she was so willing and put so much trust in you."
"You shouldn't either."
"But I do." She countered, her hands grazing the keys once more. A short silence came about the two and the Doctor allowed his hands to come up towards the keys as well.
"Do you know any duets?"
"I did have a dream of a duet once." She muttered quietly, silently cursing as she knew another memory would pop up, "With you."
---
"For a sixteen year old, you play quite well." Claire jumped at the voice. Nobody was supposed to be in the back besides her mum, who would call her up when she was next for the performance. She slowly looked up from the piano keys to find a man in a pinstripe suit. Not quite the ideal outfit, but it suited him quite well.
"You've never heard of me then." She responded. The man only smiled and walked towards her.
"I'm the Doctor." He introduced.
"Just the Doctor?" She asked, an eyebrow raising.
"Now that's better than, 'Doctor who?'" His smile widened, "But yes, just the Doctor."
"Claire. Claire Oswald." She said warily.
"Nice name."
"I'd respond with the same compliment, but the Doctor is more of a title rather than a name." He nodded, stopping at the piano.
"I suppose you are right." He said, "But it is my name."
"You're an interesting one, Doctor."
"I know." His eyes shimmered with amusement as he took his seat beside her.
"Oi!"
"Relax, Claire." He turned to her, "Know any duets?"
"Schubert?" She offered and his smile widened even more- if that was even possible.
"I met Schubert. He's quite the fellow." He grinned, "Any particular duets that come to mind?" Claire's eyes narrowed at what he said, but regardless, she told him the first one that came to mind.
"Schubert's Rondo in D major, Op.138." She practically blurted out. The Doctor looked at her curiously.
"Alright, I'm in. Though, the Prima part is a little difficult...are you sure?"
"Excuse me? I've never had a problem with it, Doctor." She fired back, rolling her eyes.
"You have such small hands though. There are a lot of cords in that piece. Are you sure?" The Doctor asked once more and Claire couldn't help herself, so she stomped her foot onto his. He let out a yelp.
"No need to be aggressive!" The Doctor said, "I'm only joking! It's just a joke!" He said, grimacing. She was wearing heels after all.
"If you want to save your feet, I suggest you shut up and start playing." The Doctor nodded and Claire counted down.
"Three, two, one." The two began their lovely duet, though Claire noticed the Doctor was lagging. After a few moments, she paused.
"Am I going too fast for you, Doctor?" She asked, clearly amused.
"I think you're too fast for Schubert, my dear." The Doctor responded, "Though, I will follow with your pace if you'd like." She nodded, then they started on again. This time, their paces correlated. The Doctor glanced at the determined girl beside him, watching in interest. Once they had completed, she looked back towards him. Noticing that he was staring, she gave him a self-conscious smile.
"Was that alright?"
"That was wonderful. Molto bene! Fantastic." He paused in his praises, "Wow, I didn't think I'd be saying that so soon." He looked at her earnestly, "You'll achieve great things, Claire. I know you will."
----
"Ah." The Doctor's response brought Clara from her stupor. She looked towards him and her mouth spoke on its own.
"Schubert's Rondo in D Major, Op.138." Clara said, "That's the duet I want to play. It's the one I played with Sandshoes." He nodded, amused by her use of his nickname towards his previous incarnation. He counted down this time.
"Three, two, one." Clara played with the same speed, though the Doctor, for once, took the hint, unlike his previous incarnation and followed through. Her nimble yet small fingers played delicately, while he followed the notes with little to no flaw, which amazed Clara. Usually, the Doctor was the clumsy one and had difficulty in being steady.
When they had finished, the two looked at each other, as if they had done quite the arduous task.
"Now that, is a duet." He said, a soft smile on his face. She found herself smiling as well. "I remember now. Claire stomped on my foot, didn't she?"
"You did insult her fingers." She responded, "She had every right to do so."
"To think my previous incarnation was supposed to be 'suave.'" He responded and they shared another laugh. The Doctor looked at her seriously once they had died down. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." She sighed, "As good as I can get, I suppose."
"I um..." He scratched the back of his head, "I could help you with those nightmares."
"Oh?" She asked.
"I could. I'd just have to..."
"Spit it out already, Doctor." She said, covering the piano once more with the fallboard.
"I could sleep with you?" He asked, his eyes screwed shut. Clara looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
"You might want to reword that."
"I can prevent the nightmares in your head if we have enough physical contact. Like um...hugging in bed!"
"Cuddling?" She offered. He nodded.
"Precisely!"
"I didn't think you were that keen." She responded, crossing her arms over her breasts.
"Clara, I just want to help you."
"I know." She looked at him, "Alright. I'll give you a chance."
His face lit up and he stood abruptly, responding with, "It's a sleepover!"
"A sleepover...?" Clara asked, but he was already out the door. A few moments later, he was in a giraffe print nightwear. Clara withheld comment, though she couldn't hide her snickers. She felt quite undressed with her black t-shirt and shorts.
"A sleepover! Let's go, Clara!" He ran over and grabbed her wrist quickly (though it wasn't in a rough manner; he'd never do that) and led her back to her bedroom. It was a shorter distance, rather than what she had traveled earlier, but she didn't question it. They stopped at her door and the Doctor bit his lip, suddenly realizing what situation he put himself in. Clara opened the door and walked towards the bed, taking her spot. When she noticed he didn't move, she looked up to him, where he was fidgeting.
"Did you get cold feet?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. He shook his head profusely.
"No, I uh..." He tried coming up with a way to get out of this. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Do I need to let you in?" She asked, "Do you follow that principle or something? You're the one who wanted the sleepover. Come on in." He hesitantly went towards the bed and laid like a stick. Clara eventually cuddled towards him, holding him tight as their legs intertwined. He loosened and cuddled her back, providing comfort as well as protection from any possible nightmare she could have. He looked down to Clara, sighing. She looked beautiful in the soft light, so delicate and relaxed, for once. He reminded himself that this was the woman who split herself an infinite amount of times just for him. This specific woman. He wasn't sure if he was lucky and/or the universe had a twisted way of making him feel that way. But he did decide on one thing: was going to protect Clara Oswald, the original Impossible Girl back, even if she did do all the saving for him.
This was the first step. Nightmares.
Clara stopped having bad nightmares about the young Claire, or any person really, after the Doctor decided to take care of Clara when she slept, but Claire did live in her more pleasant dreams as how she was. A musician playing such wonderful melodies.
----
It only really turned into a sleepover thing because I had no ending, but hey, this is the thing now. I suppose. I hope you all liked it. Even if Whouffle is kinda dead.
Bristol and Claire's middle name Ellabell is refrence to a whouffle fanfiction called, Of Adoration and Chaos on fanfiction.net. Worth the read, for sure.
Emery Thane and Alfred are references to the Paper Magician trilogy.
Molto bene means 'very well' in Italian.