My Impossible Girl, chapter 7

A/N: Hey, everybody! I apologize for the lack of chapters recently. Technically, I haven't updated since last year, and I apologize for it. I've been having some, well, troubles that have been plaguing me for the past few months. I really am sorry for my lack of updates, it's just when someone hurts you, you feel like you can't do anything. And it sucks the life out of you, and I am honestly so sorry. I hope none of you have to feel the pain that I had to go through, and you all deserve someone to love you as deeply as humanly possible. I hope you get someone to love, and they will love you more then anything in this world, and when you look at them, you're home. And if you don't, I will always be here for you, too. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here, too! Anyway, lots of love to JessicaWhoCouldEndTheWorld, GriffinGirl8655, dark-thyme-lord, Randomcat1832 and Sandprints for your lovely reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The next day, John just barely manages to drag himself out of bed. Having returned at a late hour, by the time he came home, Clara had already been put to bed. Paying Amy her money, he ignores the questioning look she gives him, and bids them goodbye. Understand that he was too upset to talk, the Ponds walked out of his blue box of a house. He cried for about an hour and a half, before managing to fall asleep, having tired himself with his tears. Now, groaning as he woke up, he needed to get his mind off of her. Off of what she had said to him.

"I didn't deserve you, sweetie, but I did love you well."

She had been right and wrong at the same time. How was it possible for someone to be right and wrong at the same time? He thinks this to himself, as he runs his hand through his hair. Struggling to get to his feet, he looks down at his outfit. He hasn't changed out of his outfit from the night before. Quietly pattering to the bathroom, he peeks his head into Clara's room, just to check on her. The girl is fast asleep in her bed, and he smiles to himself. At least someone got a good night's rest.

Locking himself in the bathroom, he squints at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red, no way is Amy going to believe whatever excuse he gives her. Staring at his tan and stained white button up shirt, he tears it off, tossing it into his hamper. The rest of his clothes follow, and soon, he's in the shower, the hot water burning his skin. He felt better this way. Scorching his skin helped take the emotional pain away. Washing away the grease in his hair, he sighs, letting the hot spray take him away to a better time.

"River Song, will you marry me?"

She hesitated. He remembered that much.

"...Yes. Of course."

Sighing, he forces himself to wash the last of the shampoo out his hair, and stepping out of shower. Nearly tripping on the bar of soap, he catches himself just in time, just barely managing to stop himself from swearing aloud. Cursing under his breath, he wraps a fluffy red towel around his waist, and proceeds to brush his teeth, shave and blow dry his brown hair. Smiling at himself in the mirror, he sees a shadow of the man he used to be before River came into his life. Someone who was truly happy with himself.

Heading to his bedroom, he closes the door as quietly as possible, and then jumps as his phone suddenly begins playing the Mambo 5 ringtone. A text. Grabbing it as fast as he can, he proceeds to drop it three times in his wet hands, before finally getting the common sense to wipe his hands on his towel, and checking the text.

01253-987-9912

Sweetie, we really must talk.

He merely glares at the offending text, and deletes it without a second thought. He didn't want to hear from her today. How did she still have his number? Guilty heart? Glaring at his phone, he pulls out a light blue collared shirt, buttoning it up. Standing shirtless, he pulls on a pair of clean boxers, and a pair of black trousers. He grins at himself in the mirror, enjoying this new ensemble. But it needed something a bit more. He didn't want to wear a blazer today, though. He wanted something else. Spotting a strange greyish purple piece of fabric, he pulls it out and finds it's a vest. A vest! He didn't know he owned a vest. It was more a tuxedo vest, with a dip in the middle and sleeveless. He pulls it over his light blue shirt, and grins at himself. He looked rather sharp, if he said so himself. Looking through his bowties, he abandons the red one, but instead, goes for a dark purple bowtie. It matched his outfit, if he could say so himself. With this outfit, he reminded himself of a clown, but a rather handsome one. Clowns. Fun. A devious grin grows on his face, and he can't help but get excited. He knew where he was taking Clara today.

"Wow!"

John grins as Clara takes in the sight. A gigantic red and yellow rollercoaster that roars as it zooms past. A magnificent dark blue ferris wheel, where the white carts that held people swung gently in the wind. Rows and rows of brightly lit stalls that had their owners yelling, trying to get people to spend their pence. A gigantic tilt-a-whirl, where screams of children could be heard as you walked past. A double stroller where two toddlers cuddle their newly won teddy bears, the parents looking exhausted but happy. Teenagers laughing at each other, holding cans of beer and energy drinks. Children tugging their mothers to the nearest ride they could ride.

"Mr. John, this is amazing!" she laughs happily. She tugs him inside the travelling funfair, and up to the ticket booth. Grinning to himself, he pays for the unlimited wristbands and snaps it around Clara's tiny wrist himself. Once the bright orange band is locked firmly around Clara's wrist, they begin their venture inside the great funfair. Clara eagerly pulls John to look at many a ride, from a terrifying rollercoaster called Purgatory, (though she has trouble saying it). To an adorable tiny little ride called Johnny's Jumping Jolly Ride, where many four year old children were tugging their parents onto. John himself is surprised by the amount of rides this funfair had. When he was a teenager, there were only a few rides, a few prize booths, and that is it. Now, it seems there was an infinite amount of rides, a vast amount of prize booths and over a billion children, it seems.

Clara, excited and curious, drags him to a large carousel, where many children waited with their parents. It's a beautiful carousel, with many beautiful golden decals, and a variety of colorful and creative animals to ride on. Clara didn't even hesitate to drag Mr. John onto it, and though he is slightly embarassed to go onto the ride, he lets the teenager working scan his wristband, and follows Clara onto the platform. With his help, she climbs onto a dark pony, wrapping her hands around the pole in the center. Satisfied to see Clara's happiness, he takes a seat on a bench behind her pony, being able to keep an eye on her and keep his dignity.

A loud ring indicates the start of the ride, and John grabs onto the edge of his seat. It's been awhile since he's been on a carousel, what if they became spinning death traps? But soon relaxes, and begins to enjoy the continuous circular motion the carousel moves in, smiling too widely because of his Clara. She's laughing, the sound of her laughter ringing above any noise in this carousel. If only Clara knew how happy it made him to see her like this. Maybe even more then River had. He lets himself be happy, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the bench. Her laughter was like the music of angels, he imagined a big smile forming on Amelia's face at the sound of it. But soon, it is all too fast, and the ride halts to a stop. With John's help, Clara climbs off her pony and the two walk hand in hand away from the carousel.

"Mr. John! What's that?" She asks, pointing to a bag of fluffy pink stuff, hung on the corner of a market stall. He stops, and looks at the stall. A woman with bright blonde hair is handing a woman a white package, a toothy smile on her face. The woman grins, and takes the bag. John steps back, inspecting the menu. It was a food stall, he believes, and there is quite the variety on the menu. Of course, it's mostly junk food, but he supposes Clara deserves to eat unhealthy, as most of the time, he makes sure Clara's meals are healthy and balanced. This time, he'll allow it.

"That, Clara, is candy floss!" He exclaims, "Was one of my favorites when I was a teenager. Pink delicious fluff made from pure air and sugar! Would you like some?"

"Yes!" He laughs as she nods happily, and he pulls out some cash, and goes up to the woman. having the strange feeling he's seen her before.

"Hi, can I get a bag of candy floss, and a soda?" He supposes Clara wants something to drink as well. "Oh, and make sure the soda is a small, of course."

"Of course, sir!" The woman grabs a bag of candy floss from the hook nearby, and turns to fill a small cup of soda. "Would you like Coke, Sprite, Ice Tea or-wait a minute!" She comes closer to John, squinting at his big chin, to the little girl beside him."I know you!"

"You...do?"

"Of course!" The woman steps back, "I served you that one time in the park, remember? Your friend, ah, what's his name...the one with the sandshoes!"

"David?"

"Oh, yes! D'you mind telling him that I've been waiting for a call? He's promised to call, but it seems he's forgotten." He laughs, shaking his head.

"Yes, that's David, indeed. I think you should give him a call yourself, though, Miss, uh?"

"Rose."

"Ah, yes! Rose!" He grabs her hand and shakes it rapidly, and she nearly drops the bag of candy floss, "Miss Roo-ooo-ooose. I like it! And this, of course, is Clara!" He gestures towards his adopted daughter, and she waves happily at Rose. Rose giggles and waves back, before handing John his bag of candy floss. "I'm John, by the way."

"I know." She laughs, as he hands her the money. She makes the change, and hands it back to him, "David said you're the one who jumped into a trash can during university, in a bet or something?" She chuckles as John turns red, taking the bag and the soda.

"That's a lie! I...uh...okay, maybe I did do that, but it was for ten pence!"

"No worry, John. See you later, John!" She waves at the pair as they walk away from the booth. The two walk down to a bench nearby, and Clara tears at the plastic bag the candy floss is in, eager to get a taste of the delicious sugar. With John's help, she opens it and tears a huge chunk off and eats it, the sugary floss melting in her mouth. She widens her eyes at the taste, and continue to grab chunks off the floss, John sipping at the soda.

"This is really good!"

"As it should be, Clara." He laughs as she consumes the rest of the floss, and tosses the bag in a trash receptical nearby. After John finishes his drink, with much difficulty as he has to stop sipping at it to answer Clara's questions about the sugary treat. After ten minutes, the two jump off the bench, and head eagerly towards another ride, a terrific swing ride that made John was even more eager to go on then Clara herself.

About an hour later, the pair had gone on every ride that the funfair had. From the terrifying 'Purgatory', where Clara was screaming and laughing with every last breath, to the absurdly ridiculous scary mansion, where John accidentally punched one of the scarers in the face. Thank goodness it was too dark to see who it was, and they only managed to get away because the man who was punched was also wearing contacts, and you can't see that well underneath a mask.

Clara, having had the time of her life, didn't ask for much during their stay, except for the candy floss. She seemed to be satisfied, and they took a break from the rides, they walked around the game booths, pointing at the brightly lit stands and the gigantic stuffed animals all lined in the back rows. They were walking past a shooting range, when Clara suddenly begins to pull John to another booth. Surprised, John nearly trips over his own feet, but manages to steady himself as they walk to the next booth, and John is surprised to find such a mundane game. You pay a dollar to turn over a big duck and then match the number to a prize that had the same number. Mundane, in his opinion. But it was true, this was a game without skill, and one Clara could win.

Paying the crooked man a dollar, he lets Clara pick up a green duck, finding the number 6 underneath. Grinning, she hands it to the man, who waves his hand to the number of prizes, with a big number 6 stamped over them. She stares at them, squinting and even needing John to pick her up so she could get a better look, before picking a stuffed black dog. The man pulls it off the hook and handing it to the girl, not even bothering to take a second look. She smiles, and plays with it for a moment, before getting an expression on her face John can't read. Happiness? Eagerness? Devious? She suddenly thrusts her arms out, the dog on the other end of her arms.

"Here."

"What?" John raises his eyebrows, before kneeling in front of her, meeting her eyes. "Clara...that's yours. You won it."

"I want to give it to you." She giggles, and takes his hand, placing the stuffed dog in his hands, and stepping back, clasping her hands together. "Do you like it?"

He grins, his eyes almost beginning to water, as he holds it in his hands. "I love it. Thank you, my Clara."

"Welcome, Mr. John!"

After a few more moment, John suddenly is taken with urge to win Clara a prize. She is his Clara, after all. She deserved spoiling, and it isn't fair she won a prize and gave it to him. Selfless. He likes that in a person. And he already has the feeling, his Clara will be fantastic. Absolutely brilliant. And he is proud to call himself her caretaker. Her father. He can't help but want to take care of her and hold her close. Be the father she never ever had.

Making their way to a skee-ball booth, he pays for a few rounds, and begins to roll the balls quickly, up the alley and into the tiny holes. 100. 50. 20. 10. 100. 270 points! He congratules himself, and grinning like mad, as he asks for the gigantic stuffed blonde dog. The woman gives it to him, congratulating him as he takes the stuffed dog. Clara about squeals in excitement when he presents it to her, and she kisses his cheek, thanking him over and over and over again. Her happiness filled John with a sort of warmth, not like River, but fatherly. A warm, protective gripping fatherly love. He will not hesitate to tell anyone, now, he thinks to himself as he watches Clara hug the dog and dub him Charlie, that he loves Clara. He would truly do anything to protect her. His daughter.

Soon, John is struggling to carry his girl and the gigantic stuffed dog back to the car, he looks up into the sky. It was now late night, nearly ten, and Clara had fallen asleep while he carried her back to the car. Stuffing the dog into the backseat next to Clara, he grins when he sees her cuddle into the side of the dog, a smile on her tired little face. Adjusting the rear view mirror, he grins and starts the car, but not before looking up into the dark, inky sky. Beautiful stars that dance in the sky. Amazing possibilities to be seen, and he isn't alone anymore. He has his Clara. And he knows that it's going to get better. Clara will make him better.

His truly impossible, mad, and endearing daughter, Clara Oswin Oswald.