Chapter Three : Trials

Disclaimer : I don't own either of these two worlds, they belong to their respective owners, which is not me.

It was so odd, being around this gigantic metal being. Of all the alien races she'd encountered, this one took the cake on the scale of awesome. It wasn't just his size either, but that he was entirely sentient and made of some form of metal. A sentient machine, and not like the Cybermen or the Dalek. He seemed fully capable of the range of emotions and could feel pain. Right now she was under the hood, getting a look at what was in there and trying to figure out how to help him. As the Doctor's official 'carer' she always knew when someone was in pain. And this...being...was definitely in pain.

And then his entire body made this loud hissing sound and vented out hot air, causing her to jump back in fright as she fully expected him to explode. She even told him so, which made him laugh. "I was being serious, you know." But she was grinning and pleased with herself. Laughter was better than any sound of pain. After a moment Clara went back to what she'd been doing, awaiting instructions and wishing she had the Doctor's sonic. Her first Doctor, not her current one since he didn't carry a screwdriver anymore.

Her alien companion chuckled a little while longer then seemed to regain control of himself. "You are amusing, Miss Clara." Something hitched and the big neon vehicle make a choking sound, coughing and sputtering while she helplessly tried to figure out what to do.

"Talk to me gent. Tell me what to do to help you, yeah?" She patted at the front headlight until he calmed down again, but the raspy noise he made couldn't be good. "You're in a real bad way." Statement not question. "Come on, talk to me. I don't know how to help you." The rasping got louder, and in that moment she realized he couldn't help her. He couldn't even help himself. Must have been worse off then he realized from that fight before. "Don't worry gent, I'll figure it out." She promised him and dug into his engine, looking for anything that could hold fluid.

She eventually found this big metallic thing she had no name for but that was caked in this bluish fluid that kept bubbling out from a small opening in the top. That was what was making the raspy sound. Clara leapt off the front of the truck and opened the passenger door so she could dig around in the interior for something she could use to pump the liquid gunk out of his...'intakes' he'd called them. But his lungs. Or what passed for lungs. She ended up finding a small hand-held vacuum cleaner with a hose thin enough to go into the opening she'd seen before.

"Keep calm Clara. You're the Impossible Girl, you can do this." She kept talking to herself, giving herself a pep talk so she wouldn't simply freak out. She was brave, she was clever, she was the Doctor's companion. She could do this without his help. He'd live, they'd get out of there, find his people, and he'd be alright. Positive thinking, Clara, that was the ticket.

Her hair was getting in her face, and she shoved it back as she circled back around and jumped to get her feet back on the front roll bar thing on the nose of the car. "Please work, please work." She chanted the words as she turned on the vacuum and shoved the little hose down into the blue caked part the rasping noise was coming front. For the first few minutes she thought she may have killed him in her ineptitude, and tears started blurring her eyes. "Breathe damn you! You have to live, come on now! Don't give up on me now, not after all I went through to save you!" She hit her hands to the sides of the engine block and then fell off as her companion started coughing as his intakes cleared.

"That's it!" She cheered and got back to her feet. "Come on then!"

Pain. That was what he felt. Intense, choking pain. His intakes had clogged before he'd been able to do anything about it, the burst of laughter having shaken his frame enough to do the job. He was hot, something internal was melting, terminal spark failure was imminent. And then...then he heard the demanding tone of the young human that had saved him at the boat. He failed to understand what she was saying to him, but it sounded like she was yelling something profane at him. Which was uncalled for, he thought as his mind drifted. But...the heat was seeping out, his intakes working frantically as the clog was removed and he was able to regulate his internal temperature again.

He shook and coughed violently, wishing he was bipedal and could simply purge the mess out of his system. But he was not, and something had still fixed it, or started to fix it at any rate. The coughing started to clear his intakes and his systems cooled fractionally more, enough that he came back from the edge of stasis lock. Was she...still here? Why? She should have run away, should have gotten away when it became clear he was likely to explode. But...she'd stayed, she'd stayed and tried to help him despite the danger. Stupid femme. Brave femme.

"Should...have run." He grunted out the words and the smile she leveled at him was brilliant.

"Oh...I've done that. I'm always runnin'. The trick is knowing when to stay." She was beaming, hands braced on the front cage that protected his front end as she pulled at some small thing that was sitting inside his still open engine area. It was...a vacuum cleaner? Which she dumped the contents in a hole, buried them, then went back to return it to suctioning the external vent for his intakes. "Clever girl."

Clara beamed at him again. "I try." She remained leaning against the front cage, watching her progress. "Well, now that you're breathin' good again, mind giving me something to call you other than gent? I mean, what's your name?"

Ah, she wished to know his designation. He thought he'd already told her, but apparently not. "Ratchet. My designation is Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer." The last part was habit, but she gave him a look that told him she found that little fact interesting. Why though? There were doctor's on her planet, he knew that for a fact. What was so interesting about an alien doctor? Or medic, as his people called him. That aside, she'd saved him again. He owed this human a debt. In the least he would protect her until whoever she belonged to came to collect her.

"Ratchet then. Good to know." Finally she slumped against his front, sending alarm striking through him before she lifted her head. "I'm alright. Just tired. And relieved. Worried me sick."

"You barely know me, femme."

"I don't care!" Brown eyes flashed at him, giving him a moment to realize how much spirit she truly had before she continued. "You have just as much right as anyone else to live your life, and the stupidity of my kind nearly took that away from you! Someone has to worry about you, and since no one else was with you that someone gets to be me. Get used to it."

She surprised him, and in that moment he decided Miss Clara Oswald was going to be his primary responsibility from then on. Until she left his side, he'd protect her. He'd protect her, and in the process, he would have someone to keep him company while he searched for the others. Surely, somewhere on this rock Optimus and the others were awaiting him.