Word count: 3395
Characters/parings: Sixth Doctor, Clara Oswin Oswald
Author's summary: Clara's alone in a wood in the middle of the night, but there's something else out there...
Recced because: The concept of what it must be like for Clara in the Doctor's time-stream, to be all those Claras, different yet the same, over and over, is an intriguing idea only just touched on in the show. This fic is a very well-done take on that concept. You can hear the voice of the Clara we know perfectly in this fragment of her, and her brief meeting with the Sixth Doctor here works very well, as he's equally well-written. This is an eerie story with some mentions of gore, and obviously, because it's a time-stream Clara, this version of her does die, but it's fascinating to hear her thought process as she realizes what's happening, and heartbreakingly poignant too, especially at the end. This story would be perfect reading for Halloween, but I had to rec it today, because I want everyone else to go read it too.
She should have argued, she supposed. After all, she was wandering about alone at night in a wood and she'd happened on a strange man - a very strange man, judging by his ridiculous coat of many colors, so taking his orders wasn't sensible. However, there was something about him, and she turned the torch off before she'd even finished objecting to the idea in her mind.
"Now," he said, still keeping hold of her, but lightly, more supporting than restraining. "Just to your left- look now-"
Clara opened her mouth to say she couldn't see anything, but now that her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, she could see shapes moving, shadows climbing up and down the nearest tree. There was a faint glow from behind them that she couldn't explain, either, but then it faded and she blinked again in blackness, thoroughly unnerved.
"I suggest" the Doctor murmured in her ear, "a strategic retreat."