Who: Anakin, Clara, and later Troy Where: Clara’s place When: 10 July 2015 What: Anakin and Clara have a … falling out… Warnings/Rating: High for violence, TW for violence against women (with use of the Force) Status: Completed when posted
The night was cool, calm; the sun had begun its descent behind the clouds and into the horizon over the ocean’s waves, and the air was gentle. What breeze there was was a welcoming one, and the sky was clear enough to look upon the stars in the Milky Way, well as best as one could in the center of the large metropolis. The world was quiet for the most part, the traffic light, and this meant Anakin’s footsteps were heard as he made his way towards the front door of Clara’s home.
Approaching the door, the young male felt the fuzziness in his head from a few weeks ago, but dismissed it as a hot sun and quickly shook it off before knocking on the door. Dressed in dark jeans, black button up shirt and jacket, Anakin let out a breath to relax himself. His mind often wandered at this time of night; usually at home, alone, thinking on his dreams. No, memories. Of the bar scene a few weeks ago, the night he’d felt that power surge through him, these thoughts had been, at first, alarming, but now they were beginning to make more and more sense.
There was a fate for him to get these thoughts, to have these feelings, to feel this power. There was reason to it. The images of his mother dying in two separate universes, the thoughts of being relegated to a menial life. The parallels were there for a reason. It was always meant to be.
He looked towards his hands, feeling the power just lying beneath the flesh. It coursed through him, even now, and he smirked before looking up towards the door waiting for Clara. She’d mentioned her cousin wasn’t there that night, and that Anakin was welcome to come by. He couldn’t wait to tell her of the decision he’d made, the revelations. She’d understand, would support him and celebrate this new found gift. He was certain of it.
Having returned to Orange County, the dreams had started up again for Clara. The first had been about saving Gallifrey, the same dream which John had back in London and had woken her up over. It had been such a welcome relief from the dreams that had led to her spiral of sanity. Then there had just been random adventures with the Doctor, nothing too noteworthy. Just the typical adventures one might have travelling through space and time with a Time Lord. The complicated feelings were there, of course, but for the most part Clara was good at ignoring them. She’d acknowledged them months ago but beyond that, she did her best to ignore them and so far, she’d managed.
When Anakin had called about wanting to talk to her, Clara hadn’t sensed anything off. Between her trip to London and then catching up with people, she figured it would be good to get proper catching up done with him. And while there was nothing beyond friendship with Anakin, Clara had the feeling Troy would have hovered or interjected. Besides, what could possibly go wrong?
Hearing the knock at the door, the brunette got up the chair she’d been curled up in reading to answer. Tea was in the process of being made, and she had the gift she’d brought for Anakin in the living room. Limbs untangled from themselves, Clara moved to the door and opened it with a smile.
“Anakin! Come in!”
When the door opened, Anakin was driven to refocus and found himself looking towards Clara, spotting her his mouth curled up into a wide smile and he nodded, “Clara, it’s great seeing you again…” Said as he ducked into the house with her at her beckoning.
Once inside, he looked around the home before glancing over towards her and offering that smile once more, “It’s good to see you, you look good. That beautiful London overcast must have done wonders for you.” He was joking of course, and looked around the home once more eyeing it all, and nodding in approval, “Nice place. Far better than anything I could ever hope to afford…”
Looking over his shoulder towards her, “Is it yours or your cousin’s? Well both I suppose, since you both live here…”
Shaking his head, he held his hands in front of him when he turned to face her, he could smell tea coming together, “I take it London treated you well though? In all seriousness.”
“It’s good seeing you again as well.”
Rolling her eyes in amusement at the comment about the beautiful London overcast, Clara just shook her head and closed the door before leading him more into the home. She was used to the teasing, it was how they communicated half the time, so there really wasn’t anything to make of it beyond being amused.
“Well, it was originally Troy’s. I only moved in back in April.” After the dreams got to be too much and he had worried about her being alone. Then again, Clara had gotten used to him being around following the week of being lost. So it all worked out. “Before that I had my own flat in Irvine.”
Then again, she and Troy had managed to mesh the decorating so it didn’t seem like either was a stranger in the home. So that was nice. One of these days she might introduce the two.
“But yet, it was good. I got to see an exhibit I really wanted to.” And visit the graves of both her parents as well as Samuel. “Oh! I got you something!” Because Clara had made sure to get things for all her friends. Heading to the living room table, there was a bag and she brought it to Anakin to give to him. And then there was the kettle whistle.
“Oh, tea’s ready. Be right back.” And into the kitchen for the tea.
“You’re kind of just a mover aren’t you? England to California, then Irvine to here? Where to next I wonder?” When she suddenly shouted about a gift he laughed and shook his head, “Really? I think you coming back could be classified as gift enough for most men, but alright…” He took the offered bag as she shot off for the tea.
Watching her leave a moment, he just shrugged and looked into the bag to pull out the small box with watch inside. Grinning, it was actually a really nice watch, and rather classy with that background. He nodded and quickly pulled it out, slipping it onto his wrist immediately, “It’s been so long since I’ve worn a watch, this’ll be nice. Thanks. And is this somehow a way of saying I’m always late to things?”
He grinned none the less and moved towards the kitchen where she was working on her tea. He noted the existence of a few odd trinkets around the house, picking one device up and turning it over, “What in the blazes is this thing?”
“Horrible case of wanderlust, you see. Makes sense my dreams would be about travelling all the time.” That or running away from things. Either way…. “Though I suppose time will tell when it comes to where I’ll end up next. At least this was only a half hour move as opposed to a completely different country move.” Small steps? Sure. That was it. “And very smooth.”
She didn’t put much stock in the comment, especially as she had tea to tend to. Then Clara just grinned at the question on what the watch might actually mean.
“Perhaps. I guess it’s up to you to decide on that front.”
Because why not just tease him? It really was more a matter of something that caught her eye that she thought he’d like which was how she did most of her gift getting when there weren’t requests, but that was beside the point. So instead she looked over from what she was working on to the device that Anakin had picked up.
“.... No idea. Troy tinkers on things. A lot. Bleedover from the dreams.” Which was a good segway for whatever it was Anakin was excited to tell her about.
Staring at the device, Anakin turned it over a bit in his hands when she mentioned bleedover. Still smirking from the comment about the watch, Anakin shrugged and looked up at her as he set the device down, “Right. Yes, the dreams…”
Anakin’s voice trailed off as he thought to his dreams. Everytime he did, they became so vivid. The desert sands, the twin suns of Tatooine; the pain he’d suffered there, then of Coruscant, of the coldness of the Jedi Temple, the judgment, arrogance, hypocrisy. He thought of Padme, of his mother, and his heart ached at the thought. Was Padme here? Was she back in that galaxy? How far, how long? He closed his eyes at the thoughts and shook his head before looking to her.
“I understand bleedover, it’s a curious thing isn’t it?” Even as he said this, he eyed the tea kettle which began to slowly lift into the air, pouring the hot water into the cups she’d set down. Smirking, he winked to her when he set the kettle down with a motion of his hand, then bowing his head a moment.
“Power is my gift from the dreams. They’re a curious thing, aren’t they? They’re so… vivid, like memories, and then they also parallel so heavily with our own lives. It’s almost like it’s a message, that we’re all fated to be who we are, what we are. I’ve seen my mother die in both dreams, both times completely powerless to stop it. But now, now I have that power. That’s real power, you know, to be able to protect the ones you love.”
And then Anakin was trailing off thinking about the dreams. That could really go in any direction. Then again, it was part of life in Orange County. Dreams became topics of conversation, analysing them, trying to see what they meant here, what it meant in general. With so many different theories and questions, it was hard to keep track.
“Yeah.. curious.”
Curious. Complicated. Confusing. There were plenty of words that could be used to describe the bleedover of dreams. It all depended on the type of bleedover. Sometimes Clara felt the emotional ones were more complicated. Abilities and gifts? Those made more sense. It was when emotions were there that it got messy.
Anakin seemed to have a grasp of the ability bleedover as he used the Force to pour the tea. Which okay, definitely had its benefits. But there was something about the way he held himself, his voice. It had Clara on edge, even though she did her best to push past it. At least, until he mentioned seeing his mother die twice and being unable to stop it, powerless. She had warned him about that possibility, the parallel. But it was the fact he said he now had the power to protect people…. and more importantly, the idea that it was all fated.
“Anakin….”
Sighing, Clara shook her head as she went to pick up her mug of tea. The heat would help soothe her apprehension.
“I wouldn’t call it fate. We’re still our own people here. We have our own choices, the dreams, whatever they may be, they don’t determine who we are or who we are to become. They’re just one possible outcome.”
Clara might not know just what her own dreams meant, what any of it did, but she also understood that things were different here, which meant that what happened in the dreams didn’t necessary have to happen here.
“Ah, right… our own will. Of course, you’re not wrong, we are our own people, we make our own choices. But we’re not different people. We are very much the same people,” Anakin eyed her, felt a tension in her he hadn’t sensed before. That was a new thing, really, the sensing of things. He couldn’t grasp mind melding, or reading of course; not yet at any rate, but he could sense feelings, emotions, and how they pushed the room around.
He turned a brow up at her, interesting that she should feel any sense of apprehension around him; he was nothing if not good to her, he’d always been nice, perfectly so, and he’d never hurt her. She wasn’t the enemy. That much was clear… wasn’t it? It had to be, it felt that way to him.
“Of course I’m not leading an army against the forces of evil to save the fate of the galaxy. That’s preposterous here; but it’s real, I know it in my bones, and it’s proven by the power given to me. See, most people treat these dreams as a curse, me? I find them to be a gift. I have that power there, but I’m only one of many, and I have enemies with that same power. That power alone isn’t always enough there. But here?”
He let his voice trail off at the thought, and just looked towards the floor, “My mother was killed by a drug cartel. Kidnapped, held for ransom; she worked for a wealthy man at the time. He paid the ransom, was able to get his wife and daughter back, but didn’t pay for my mother. She was worthless to him, ‘cost too much’ he said…” Anakin scoffed, “When did a human being’s life get a value?”
Shaking his head, “She was killed, when they realized she was worthless to them as well. She was killed, beheaded, and done so as a message. Displayed to the people of my hometown, including me. I tried to get justice, you know, I did. But nothing came of it, of course, the justice system is weak. It bows to the will of the people, and the people are forgivers, because it didn’t happen to them.”
Anakin looked to her and smiled, “I just realize this power gives me hope. Gives me a chance to do something about it.”
She couldn’t exactly disagree with the fact that they were still often the same person they were in the dreams despite the circumstances. At the core, Clara had always recognised herself. All versions of herself with the shards, and then herself. It was different for John and Troy, but she knew that the ‘ingredients’ so to say were the same. But that didn’t mean they were fated to be make the same choices they did in the dreams. It didn’t mean that they were powerless to make their own choices here.
“Just because the core is the same doesn’t mean our actions are now going to be predetermined, though.”
Sighing, Clara sipped her tea, a slight wince as it was still too hot. The joys of being worried. Because while she knew Anakin and considered him a friend and he had never harmed her, the way he was talking? It was definitely worrisome. There were warning bells clanging her in her mind. So she listened, and would try to interject logic into a conversation that wasn’t exactly logical.
“Anakin….”
What was there to say when he spoke about his mother’s murder. It was horrible and unfair. No life should be brought down to money. It was sickening how someone could decide a person wasn’t worth it just because they worked for them and weren’t family… but still, the way Anakin was talking, the direction the conversation was going… With justice and the system failing.
“You want to take justice into your own hands.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. And the chill she’d felt before just intensified. Because he seemed so convinced. She knew what he had gone through to try and avenge his mother… but this? Hope was good…. but what he was saying?
“What do you mean, do something?”
Yes, she was apprehensive and she placed the tea down and crossed her arms as she looked at the man before her.
Anakin frowned, “Of course it doesn’t mean we’ll make the same choices, but it’s being laid out before us, me. I’m being shown a path once more, and how can I ignore that path? That path leads to a better place. In my dreams I’m slated to be the most powerful ever, Clara; more powerful than any Jedi or Sith that had walked before me. And here a path is laid before me again. I can choose to ignore that path, but what sort of man does that make me if I have the power to change things and I ignore it?”
He shook his head and ignored the tea some more. Watching her, listening to her when she made the accusation about taking justice into his own hands and he held his hands out, looking down at them, “Because these hands can take that justice and make something of it. Real justice, fair justice, appropriate justice. What if someone had the power to keep your parents alive, Clara, and they’d just stood back and done nothing? That makes them as much a criminal as if they’d killed them themselves.”
Anakin eyed her, “I mean do something. I mean make these people pay, make them realize that, for once, they’re the ones who are powerless. That they’re not protected in their homes and behind their walls. That their government can’t protect them.”
He held his hands apart, gesturing around him, “That their laws are insignificant to the power of the Force, and that I control that power. I will make them pay, and make them bleed, for what they did to her, to me, to countless others before me, countless others after me, and countless more to come. It’s my right, my duty to do that.”
“A path, you’re being shown a path. That doesn’t mean it is the only one and that doesn’t mean it is the right one.” Clara was getting a headache, but she also wasn’t about to just back down. Because she was Clara and she had no problem stating her mind. Not in situations like this, even if it could turn dangerous. Which..it could, given she knew the Star Wars mythos. But she had to believe that people could make their own choices here, different from the dreams. Sometimes it just needed to be beaten into someone’s head. And it wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to dealing with stubborn males. “You don’t know if it will be a better place or worse. You only see what is immediately in front of you. And what it means is you actually are taking the time to look at it and not just follow the path that seems right because you want it to be.”
Honestly, why was that so hard to understand? Right. Emotions. Because emotions clouded judgement, especially when it came to the painful ones. Wasn’t Clara just as guilty of that? Only her way of dealing with painful emotions was to avoid them, run from them even if she knew that she would eventually deal with them. But this? This was scary territory. Terrifying.
“It’s not your right or your duty to do that, Anakin!” Hands thrown up in the air, Clara set a glare on him, arms crossed. “What you’re talking about is insane. You’re talking about killing in cold blood. It won’t change anything. You are not judge, jury and executioner, Anakin. That was their decision and you’d be making the exact same one in a misguided attempt at vengeance.” Because it wasn’t justice. Not by a long shot.
Anakin’s mouth fell agape, shocked by what he was hearing. How could she not see it? How could she not understand the importance of this very situation? Ah, right. She didn’t have the power to stop it, so of course no one should it wasn’t right. Right? Wrong. He glared at her, growling under his breath as he felt that anger raging up inside of him again, staring down at her as the darkness of the Force rippled inside of him. He could feel it, tugging at him, begging for that release of power.
It made his vision blurry, he couldn’t see straight really, but he continued on anyway, “What I’m talking about is making sure people pay for their crimes, and someone should! I will be whatever I need to be, as judge, jury, and executioner failed to their jobs last time. That cartel’s shown up on the news once more, I know where they are. I can find them, and I will find them. I’ve been given this power for a reason, and it’s up to me to make sure I use it properly.”
He pointed at her then, “I am not misguided. It is you who stands here preaching of good and evil like it’s black and white, while I’m realizing that it’s not so clear cut. The good guys don’t always win…” Anakin felt the Force closing around on her throat, and he squeezed his hand shut for a moment as he let the Force slowly lift her from the ground, the room shaking just a bit, “I will bring justice upon them, and I hate to break this to you but justice isn’t always pretty, it doesn’t always feel right, but it is always necessary…”
For a moment he just held her there in his grasp, knowing he could end her immediately, but then he felt that twinge of pain, guilt--what was he doing? The Dark Side subsided and he felt his head clearing again. Frowning, he dropped her from his grip and stared at her, before immediately turning to leave. Snatching up his jacket as he did so. He could sense she was still alive, but this would look bad. Oh, but of course it would. He needed to get away.
Was she afraid? Oh yes, Clara was definitely afraid. But she was also familiar with fear and pushing through it no matter how much she wanted to cry or hide. Travelling with the Doctor only increased that capability, though she’d done it plenty of times before. But she wasn’t given a chance to argue his points, argue why he wasn’t right. That this sort of thinking was dangerous.
And just like that, she suddenly felt herself unable to breathe and she started to claw at her throat, at the invisible tendrils that were wrapping around her, the air supply being cut out.
She hated how weak she sounded but she was being lift off the ground and the tightening of force and energy worsening. There were spots dancing before her eyes, desperation flaring within her as she struggled for breath, legs kicking before falling limp from lack of oxygen. Even as she was dropped, Clara remained unconscious on the floor, breathing weak.
Anakin stepped into the cold night air, no longer feeling all that crisp and refreshing; instead it felt like cold fingers, running against him, clinging to him. What was this feeling he had? This anger, this uncontrollable rage that hid deep within? He wasn’t able to fight it off, and it was so strong, it was as if something else was reaching into him and drawing out the person it wanted him to be.
Shaking his head, he moved towards his bike, removing his jacket and stuffed it into one of his saddle bags, pulling his leather jacket out of it. Helmet then put on, he slipped onto the bike and took off almost immediately. Giving one last look back at the house, he shook his head and looked ahead once more. What had he done? What had he almost done?
He felt himself shaking even as he rode.
….Later that evening…
Troy’s time away had been rather complacent if anything. He perused a local bookstore for the better part of two hours, talking the lady up behind the counter about a great many things, and about the history books. He, of course, managed to cause an eyebrow to raise when he discussed about going bowling with John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie.
The rest of the time at the library was spent reading books he’d already read, and reading through them rather quickly as it were. Then he’d stopped by a local skate park where he partook in a rousing bit of fun with the local kids, skateboarding. He learned rather quickly, much to the boys’ amusement, and then he found himself playing a quick game of football. The real football, not that American tripe.
Now, many hours later, Troy had decided to make his arrival home. Figuring that whatever plans Clara had for the evening, they’d be done with by now. Slipping into the front door, he was a bit disturbed to find the door unlocked, and he stared at the knob a moment with a frown. Shutting the door he shook his head, “Clara, you really should remember to lock the door more ofte--”
Then he turned around and spotted the crumpled body of Clara on the floor. Eyes widening, he quickly rushed over to her, dropping all of his things immediately to the floor as he fell to his knees beside her. He brought hands up, to brush through her hair; the other cupping at her cheek as he quickly listened for breathing and a heart beat. He heard it and let out a breath. She was at least alive, “Clara? Clara…” He was terrified, and wrapped his one arm beneath her, the other under her head as he held her towards, forehead against hers.
“No, no no no… not again, not now, not ever… no no…” he brushed against her cheek with his other hand staring at her unconscious face. He shook his head, watching her, “Clara, please. Please be here, please be okay…”
Darkness. That was what Clara was aware of. Darkness. Darkness and pain and fear. Time had a strange way of flowing when one was unconscious. Nothing moved, no passage of time. Nothing but silence. This wasn’t the end, was it? How sad that would be. All because she was stating facts even if Anakin hadn’t want to hear the truth. How long had it been? She didn’t know. It wasn’t until she heard a voice, seemingly faint and distant breaking through the haze of her unconsciousness.
Troy
Promise me you won’t die in front of me, I couldn’t take it.
Her throat was still in pain, lots of it. But she had to push through, she had to wake up. A whimper of pain and Clara finally blinked blearily as she came to.
“T...Troy?”
Her voice was weak, larynx crushed, and shaking, she just clung to him.
Troy felt her body shifting a bit, stirring awake, and this drew him back enough to look down at her, brushing her hair out of her face and staring down at her with a longing to see her okay again. When her voice broke through he smiled and just pressed his forehead against hers once more, breathing out a sigh of relief as he clung to her as well; clutching her against him as he shook his head, “What happened to you?”
Troy didn’t know what he’d do if she were truly gone, he didn’t know how he could handle it. He was pretty sure he couldn’t. He did think that maybe he should take her to the hospital, to get her checked out at the very least. But first he had to make sure she was okay, and the weakness in her voice scared him a bit.
“What’s wrong? Did you faint, or pass out?” Of course Troy wouldn’t think of anything diabolical right away, not at all.
What happened to her… that was the question, wasn’t it? How was she supposed to explain it? In theory, she understood. Anakin had used the Force and strangled her. He could have killed her. All because she was saying things he hadn’t wanted to hear, because it was Clara. Because if she had an opinion on something, she would more often than not say it. Especially in this sort of situation. He had made his choice.
She understood all of that in theory. But making sense of it? That was something else entirely. She was used to stubborn, but this? This was something else. She didn’t know if it meant she had just trusted the wrong person (which was likely) or what. She did know that this was beyond her abilities to handle though. If he wasn’t completely gone yet, he was close to it and she didn’t know if she could bring him from the edge. They all had their choices here, but had he made his own when he decided that all of this was fated?
As Troy asked if she had fainted or passed out, Clara just shook her head. That wasn’t it. It had been deliberate. Perhaps a heat of the moment sort of thing, but it had been caused by a person, not sickness or heat. And shaking her head meant she didn’t need to speak. Not yet at any rate.
She didn’t say anything, and that actually worried him. The way her voice had sounded, so cracked and strangled, he wondered why but decided to stop questioning her too much further as she seemed less than eager to share. Brushing a hand over her forehead, he kissed it once more before slowly lifting her, cupping beneath her legs to hoist her up. Obviously not really caring if she desired to be carried or walk on her own, “I’m going to carry you to the couch, get you some water, then we’re heading into the hospital to get you looked at.”
He frowned though, because she had indicated it wasn’t passing out or fainting. So what could it have been then? Oh, the thought went to the friend she’d had over. No, that was impossible right? Of course it wasn’t, he was the Doctor, she was Clara Oswald. Someone wanted one of them dead at one point or another. But a friend? He was curious, but wouldn’t worry about that now. She was too groggy, too distant, it would be too much to think on in the beginning. So instead he moved towards the sofa and set her down on it, laid her down really, and propped her head up on the arm rest with some pillows.
He smiled down at her and poked her nose, “A couple of Jammie Dodgers and a glass of water’ll pick you right up, get your mind cleared before we head out.”
Finger tapped the tip of her nose before he moved towards the kitchen to ready her meal. When he returned, he set the plate down with two and a half Jammie Dodgers, and the glass of water, “It’ll help your throat. Promise.”
Vaguely, Clara was aware that it was a good thing that there wasn’t a working TARDIS in the area. What would have stopped Anakin from trying to use that as well? She wasn’t anticipating being scooped up, but there wasn’t much she could do in way of protest. No, she just had to accept it as it wasn’t that long a walk and honestly, there was a lot more going on in her mind than her need to always be in control and appear fine.
“I don’t need a hospital.”
She would still argue that point though, even if her speaking was still weak and her voice strained. Instead she rubbed her throat as she curled up on the couch until Troy came back with water and Jammie Dodgers. A weak smile was given but instead she just winced from drinking the water. And that wasn’t even hard like Jammie Dodgers would be. Still, she tried to nibble on one with the same result.
“I’ll be the judge of that, I should think; I’m the Doctor here, after all,” Troy offered, a little bit of a jest, but he was obviously quite serious about what he was saying. Taking a seat on the edge of the couch, he brushed a hand across her forehead and watched her as she winced, “I’m sure you had a lack of oxygen, and have been dehydrated, we need to get your mind a bit more focused before I try to move you too much, too fast, but you are going to the hospital. There’s no arguing it.”
He then frowned, “And I’ll call your father when we get there, probably John too…”
There was something wrong with her throat, that much was clear and he leaned forward a bit staring down at her, “What happened, Clara? Your throat, it’s been hurt too. I don’t see any marks… were you choking?” It didn’t look like strangling, after all, there weren’t any marks.
Oh, Troy was doing the ‘I’m the Doctor here’ thing, all stubborn and determined. So much for getting out of the hospital. All she needed was rest. To get her head back on straight. There wasn’t much they would find at the hospital as it were. Could the hospital even pick up on Force related injuries? Though she imagined that while there was no bruising on the outside, her throat would show the damage and then what?
And he wanted to inform both her dad and John? Could this night get any worse? Really. It wasn’t that big a deal but given that arguing physically hurt at the moment….? Well that was going to prove problematic. Which meant she would be dealing with hovering from all three. She needed to inform Ahsoka as well to be careful of Anakin. She might have the Force but after what had happened…
“In a way.”
Really, she didn’t know how to explain it. Or no, she knew exactly how to explain it. She just didn’t want to explain it. Groaning in frustration, Clara just grabbed a pillow to cover her face with.
“In a way…” Troy gave her a bit of a glare at that moment then shrugged, “Fine. You don’t want to tell me what happened, then I guess it’s off to the hospital right now.”
Watching her stuff her face with a pillow, he quickly snatched it off of her, and pulled it away. Staring down at her he made a gesture, “Now up, I’ll help you out to the car and we’ll be on our way. I’m going to get you checked out, since I don’t know what happened, I have to make sure you’re okay.”
Troy knew she didn’t want to go, and of course she was as stubborn as he was in most cases; yet, he had every intention of making sure she was okay, that she didn’t have some sort of concussion, or was in danger of any side effects from whatever it was that happened; though, at the moment he was beginning to get a rather horrified thought in his mind. She was hiding something from him, and he knew that only meant nothing good.
He held his hand out towards her to help her to her feet.
Oh, he was just getting it? No, she had a feeling Troy knew she wasn’t going to want to talk about it. And not only because it caused physical pain to talk. No, there was also the fact that it was a friend who had done it. The fact that because Anakin hadn’t wanted to hear what she had to say, he had instead nearly killed her. It would be hard to talk about regardless. The fact that her larynx felt crushed just made it a bit easier not to talk about it.
Even if Troy was being stubborn and insisting she go to the hospital. And he took her pillow that was being used to hide from the world away from her. Which was just rude. Really now, who did that? Oh right. Troy.
With an annoyed look, Clara sat up and sighed in defeat as she took the hand and stood up. She had no idea what they would find at the hospital, or how they would even really be able to help, but this was one of those situations where it was just better to get it over and done with.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Wincing, she absently rubbed her throat and looked down as they headed out of the house.