maskormenacelogs | and just like that it's gone.

[By the time Cosima comes into the living room, Clara has already finished half her glass of wine. This was supposed to be a night in, for resting and recovering - a chance to figure out who they are again, after a week of grief and loss and confusion.

Clara isn't sure it's possible. How can you recover from losing half of yourself? How does the body heal such a huge, devastating wound?

For just a moment after Cosima sits down, Clara's silent. She reaches over to hook their fingers together, reaches up to wipe her dry eyes, and takes a shallow breath.]

My mum used to film me all the time. It drove me mad, always having that lens stuck in my face. [She says it matter-of-factly, like it's the start of a fairly neutral anecdote.] We wound up with boxes of tapes, me doing everything you can think of. And when she died, I'd watch them over and over, hoping for her to pass by a reflection, so I could see her behind the camera.

[She pauses, takes another sip, breathes.]

I know why she did that, now. You can never have enough, just in case.

[Cosima handles loss many ways. One of those ways is to throw herself into her work, burying herself in science and experiments and knowledge that can't leave her. It's tempting to retreat into her lab, but she knows that isn't fair to Clara. They're married, a pair of soulmates, and Cosima knows they have to help each other. Their family is broken, but Cosima won't let it stay that way.

That's why, instead of holing up in her lab, Cosima makes sure she spends time at home despite her natural inclinations. She curls up on one end of the couch, legs sprawled and entwined with Clara's, as if to reassure that she's here, she's not going anywhere.]

Just in case.

My parents aren't really the film every second of their child's life type. I didn't think I would be either. I'm starting to get why people do that.

[Clara reaches out to just put her hand on Cosima's ankle, the slightest touch, for her own comfort. On the floor, Shelley rolls over on her sleep - even she knows something is wrong, padding mournfully up to Brianna's door every hour, just to check.]

Parenthood changes you. That's what my gran would always say.

[Her gran would have loved Brianna, she thinks to herself, unbidden. She imagines a Christmas dinner that can never exist, introducing her families to one another, watching their smiles light up with laughter and confusion and happiness. Her dad would ask Cosima all about her work. Linda would purse her lips at Brianna, but pass her extra helpings of pudding. And the Doctor would be there, the key to Clara's perfect world, holding her hand.

Cosima is the only person in the fantasy that Clara will ever see again. She tucks her legs in closer, tangling them tighter.]

... I'm so afraid they'll take you too, all the time.

Smart. Your gran's a genius. I wish I could meet her. I wish I could meet your whole family...

[It seems that Clara isn't the only one imagining impossible family gatherings. Cosima's family isn't big on huge family dinners, but they'd make an exception for Clara, Cosima knows they would. They'd love her, obviously, Cosima can't imagine anyone not falling in love with Clara instantly.

She reaches to take one of her free hands, linking them together.]

I know. I worry about that too.

That'd be a shock. Turning up alive and married, I'd give my step-mum a heart attack.

[She says it as lightly as she can manage, but her voice is soft and strained. That's only the tip of what her family never knew about her. They buried a schoolteacher; whatever she is now, she's not sure she would want them to see it.]

Cos, I was thinking... maybe we could take another trip. You showed me California - I want to show you England.

[That, and she's never felt so sick for her old life.]

[Just after sundown, there's the approach and cut-off of a motorcycle engine, and then a quick, even knock on the front door.

On the other side is Clara Oswald, looking like (fortunately sober) hell.]

Hey. Can I cry on your sofa for a few minutes?

[ Sarah's surprised to see Clara standing on the threshold, but to her credit, she manages to cover it up fairly well. She steps back, allowing Clara to come inside, and shuts the door behind her. ]

Sarissa's not here. [ Because she figures that must be why Clara is here. ] But sure. What's up?

It's okay, I just need- [... What does she need? A break? A hiding place? She has no idea, but she stumbles through the front door anyway, reaching up to rub at one temple.]

My best friend left. I'm never going to see him again. [She says it with a sense of exhausted finality, but her conflicted expression indicates that she isn't done.] It's only been a few days since Brianna, I just... I don't want to be alone, but I need to give Cosima a break from watching me fall apart.

... Shit.

[ She's got no idea what to say. She knows, from experience, that there's nothing to say—nothing that will make Clara feel better, nothing that will make this okay. She can be there, though, if that's what Clara wants. ]

Sit down. Do you want a drink, anything?

A drink would be nice, thanks.

[Ever polite, she takes the offered permission to sit, perching stiffly on the sofa.]

Anything that's not whiskey'll do.

Right.

[ Unfortunately, most of what they have in the house is whiskey. But she disappears into the kitchen for a minute to pour some apple juice into a glass and then brings it out to Clara. ]

This good?

Yeah. Thanks.

[Clara gives the best smile she can, and tries to relax back into the cushions a bit once she takes the glass.]

... 'Least you all knew I was a mess before the wedding.

God, if being a mess was enough to disqualify someone from being part of this family, I'd be right out.

[ She flops onto the other side of the couch, looking at Clara closely. ]

[Clara laughs, a bitter, self-deprecating thing.]

You could always be worse. [She sips her juice, and pulls her feet up onto the couch.] Me and my best friend? We're both time traveling immortals, and we can't see each other again because our codepency was literally going to destroy the universe. So, that's a thing.

[ She sighs, not out of frustration so much as being thoughtful, trying to come up with something to say that won't send Clara spiraling. ]

Look, if being here's taught me anything, it's that this isn't forever. People leave all the time, but... they come back, too.

[Clara shakes her head, trying not to let a completely hopeless look pass over her face. Sarah didn't sign up for a meltdown, or a speech.]

He won't remember me. Next time he comes back, he won't even know something's missing in that big brain. It could have been a thousand more years.

[She stops herself then, taking in a deep breath before her emotions get out of hand.]

I don't want Cosima to feel like she's not enough.

[ Sarah nods. She knows that sometimes there just isn't a right thing to say, or a solution for somebody's problem. The best she can do is sit here and drink with Clara, listen to her. ]

Cosima... she's got her own shit going on, yeah? She knows you've got people at home you love. We all do. She won't ask you to choose.

[She tries to give a grateful smile, but her face is still locked in grim contemplation, a feat made less effective by the apple juice in her hands.]

She told me once that she has two soulmates. I should have told her that I do as well, but it felt a bit strange, him being here and being a thousand-year-old man and all of that. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

Edited 2017-07-10 19:22 (UTC)

[ Sarah doesn't really know what to say to that. ]

I don't believe in soulmates. [ She tries to punctuate it with an awkward laugh, but the whole thing falls a little flat. ]

I didn't used to. But life changes us all the time.

[She leans sideways just a bit, bumping Sarah's shoulder with her own.]

Thanks for listening.

and just like that it's gone.

for cosima | june 9th

shows up weeks late with wine???

💖

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for sarah | june 9th

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