Title: There Isn’t A Section On Apocalypses In The Teen Advice Books
Fandom: Sarah Jane Adventures [Doctor Who]
Pairing: Clyde/Luke
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3555
Genre: Slash
Summary:“Let’s get you out of this room before you become even more of an antisocial loser than you already are.”
Author’s Notes: My other Clyde/Luke has been surprisingly popular, I suspect because no one else writes Clyde/Luke. As far as I can tell, please prove me wrong guys. Anyway, these boys are one of my OTPs because they are made of awww, and there is always room in my world for more Clyde/Luke; I no longer care about the special hell ;) And I don’t want to know what the actual plural of ‘apocalypse’ is, ‘apocalypses’ is fine with me. Spoilers for Journey’s End.



It’s not the end of the world
In fact it’s not even the end of the summer.
- Bowling For Soup

The government decides that the best way to reward children for not dying horribly during the Dalek invasion is to cancel school for the rest of the academic year. Mostly this results in rejoicing – though there’s really only a month and half left of the summer term anyway – but the older students complain that this reprieve came after their exams and therefore isn’t much good.

Luke thinks that, on the whole, he would be perfectly happy to continue going to school, but he has also gathered that this is one of the things that make him abnormal. There are many things that make him abnormal, and most of them have been listed by the kids at school, who tend to watch him out of the corners of their eyes. Sometimes, Luke has found himself wondering if Maria and Clyde have remained friends with him simply to stay near Sarah Jane, and all the danger and wonder she can reveal.

It rains for the first four days after the Earth gets back to its original position, sheets of water against the window panes. Luke is content to sit and watch it, feeling reluctant to leave the house. He’s not sure why, and he knows his mum is getting concerned, but for all his cleverness and all his resources Luke found out during the Dalek invasion that he is just a boy. Just a child, and he’d never felt fear like that before. He didn’t even know fear like that existed. It makes him feel hollow and strange, and there’s still so much to learn about the world. He didn’t know that there was still so much to learn about himself; and he doesn’t like it.

“Do you need to talk about it?” his mum asks, sitting on the end of his bed with tea held safely in her hands. Tea is soothing, and Luke has his own cup, seated cross-legged on the mattress.

Luke doesn’t know what to say, how to articulate the words. He feels tired a lot of the time; he feels emotions he didn’t know that he had. Apparently, being a teenager is hard all the time, but Luke still feels inadequately prepared for this.

“No,” he murmurs at last, taking a mouthful of tea. His mum sighs, and she looks tired and sad.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” she says, voice cracking a little. Luke tries to tell her that this isn’t her fault, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Another two days pass, and the rain tapers off to a fine, misty fog that clings to everything on the street. Luke doesn’t answer the phone when it rings, and wonders exactly what to do with these feelings. They’re too new, and they’re too frightening. At first, it was just the excitement, the normal adrenaline rush of the world saved again. But it was too big this time, and everything is too dark and too different.

Footsteps echo up the stairs on the third morning. Luke is reading a book on astrophysics and correcting the bits he doesn’t like with a biro, because at least all this is a known quantity. The door to his room bangs open.

“This is… so very, very tragic.” Clyde raises his eyebrows at Luke, arms folded across his chest. There’s a cast around his left wrist, and Luke stares at it almost uncomprehendingly.

“Your arm-” he begins.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you later. It’s a very awesome and heroic story,” Clyde assures him. “Now, let’s get you out of this room before you become even more of an antisocial loser than you already are.”

Luke doesn’t want to go anywhere, and says as much.

“Ok. Whatever.” Clyde walks over to the bed, reaching out his good arm to drag Luke to his feet. “Come on, you saddo.”

At school, Luke has those words thrown at him all the time. Loser, saddo, weirdo, freak. They don’t hurt as much when Clyde says them though. Luke sighs, and lets Clyde pull him out of the room and down the stairs. Luke’s trainers are beside the door, and he pushes his feet into them, shrugging into his denim jacket. Somehow, he always lets Clyde force him into things, into taking opportunities that he’d otherwise just refuse to acknowledge.

The sunlight outside is just too bright, forcing Luke to stop and screw up his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you rather have gone out with Maria?” he asks Clyde.

Clyde laughs slightly. “You really are out of the loop,” he says, elbowing Luke in the side. “Maria’s still in Cornwall with her dad, they’re taking some extra time.”

“Right.” Luke shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Besides, we’re best mates, right?” Clyde’s smile isn’t quite normal, but Luke can’t work out why. People are still much more complicated to figure out than, say, computers.

“Of course we are,” Luke replies, and something seems to ease up a little between them.

The surrounding area is full of signs of the Dalek attack; houses with their windows boarded up, scorched pavements and broken trees. Luke takes it all in in silence, still trying to reconcile the victory with the loss.

“You are so, so emo,” Clyde informs him, as they automatically head towards the park.

“‘Emo’?” Luke repeats, confused.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Clyde replies, slinging his arm around Luke’s shoulders. The hard cast bumps Luke’s arm, and he frowns.

“What happened?”

“Fell down a flight of stairs,” Clyde explains, biting his lower lip in a way Luke has finally managed to identify as uncomfortable. “The bloody world was moving about everywhere, wasn’t it?”

“I thought you said the story was ‘heroic’,” Luke teases him, leaning against Clyde a little more.

“Yeah, well, I faced down a Dalek in single combat,” Clyde sniggers. “Kicked that sink plunger right off its head.”

“Liar,” Luke tells him, smiling too. “You didn’t.”

“You weren’t there,” Clyde points out. “You don’t know.”

“How did you break your wrist then?” Luke asks, indulging him in his lie.

“Had to let the other guy get one shot in, right?” Clyde laughs, leaning his head against Luke’s shoulder as they keep walking.

“Right.”

The park looks pretty much the same as it always does, which is a relief. Luke remembers afternoons spent here with Maria and Clyde, stealing each other’s homework and playing on the swings in the little children’s playground. In the sunshine, it all looks almost normal, like everything is fine and has always been fine. There are a few people around, taking advantage of the sunlight, all walking in at least twos and pressed tight together. Apparently, Luke and Clyde aren’t the only ones meeting up again after the world nearly ended.

They sit on a bench underneath some trees, which cast soft grey shadows over their faces and the ground.

“So, go on,” Clyde says, turning to Luke with a big grin spreading across his face, “Tell me how you saved the world.”

“I didn’t save the world,” Luke says blankly.

“Sarah Jane told me you helped,” Clyde presses, “And I want to know. I never realised how crap it is being stuck out of the loop when there’s an alien invasion.”

Luke attempts to imagine what it must have been like for Clyde, stuck in his flat with no idea what the fight was about or who was winning. The feeling of fear he hasn’t been able to shake increases, and he feels so sorry for his friend. Without even thinking about it, he lets his body handle what it instinctively wants to do, and he pulls Clyde into a hug. In most circumstances, he knows Clyde would pull away, because boys do not hug, and that has been made very clear. Now, though, Clyde just pulls him closer, the cast on his wrist digging into Luke’s spine, and neither of them need to say anything at all. Luke isn’t sure what it is about near-death experiences that make previous social customs superfluous.

For the next half hour, Luke fills Clyde in on all the details regarding the almost-apocalypse. He tells him about the Doctor, and the subwave network, and being left alone in the house with the Daleks outside, and using Mr Smith to tie the Cardiff Rift around the world and get everyone home.

“Makes spraying Lynx at the Slitheen seem a little lame, doesn’t it?” Clyde offers, smirking, but he can’t seem to look at Luke.

“No,” Luke protests. “This was completely different.”

“You know what I did while you were trying to find a way to fix everything?” Clyde demands. He seems to be slightly angry and Luke doesn’t know why.

“No,” Luke murmurs.

“I was sitting at home trying to make a sling out of a t-shirt I don’t really like and listening to my mum scream into the sofa cushions, ok?”

Clyde’s mouth is shaking a little, and Luke tries to work out what that means. He doesn’t want Clyde to be cross with him, but he doesn’t think that Clyde is entirely cross; his eyes are downcast, and Luke finally works out that Clyde isn’t furious, but ashamed.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah.” Clyde’s lips press together. “Not everyone’s mum is like Sarah Jane, you know.”

Luke doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell Clyde that it’s fine; that Luke has no option to live anything but an unusual and dangerous life, since he was grown by the Bane, and Sarah Jane specialises in saving the world every other week. Clyde has so many things that Luke doesn’t have, and knows all the things that Luke can’t learn, no matter how many times he tries.

Some of these thoughts must flicker across his face, and because Clyde isn’t him and can therefore read people’s expressions with ease, he seems to understand perfectly.

“Jesus, Luke,” Clyde sighs, shifting on the bench so their shoulders touch, “I’m sorry, mate.”

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Luke tells him, feeling a little confused.

Clyde just smiles, and doesn’t move away. His shoulder is strong and warm against Luke’s, and it’s nice, just to have that bit of stability beside him. Just to have someone who didn’t have to stare up at the sky and count down the seconds to the Earth’s inevitable demise.

“Sarah Jane said you wouldn’t leave your room,” Clyde prods after a couple of minutes of silence.

Luke doesn’t want to talk about it, and tells Clyde this.

“Fuck that,” Clyde shrugs. “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong, ok?”

“Why?” Luke asks, a little sullenly.

“Because Maria is in Cornwall,” Clyde answers swiftly. “Girls are better about the whole talking about feelings thing, but I’m gonna have to have a go since she’s not here.”

Luke scuffs his trainer against the ground, and feels decidedly stupid.

“This isn’t one of those situations where you can say anything dumb,” Clyde adds, and he’s still sitting so close to Luke that there’s no space between the right side of Luke’s body and the left side of Clyde’s. “You can’t make any social fuck-ups or whatever it is you call them.”

Luke has never used the phrase fuck-up in his life, unusually short as it has been. But he smiles slightly at Clyde, and shifts so there’s about a foot of space between them.

“I didn’t know…” he begins hesitantly. It’s strange how he’s been taught embarrassment; there are so many other emotions that he struggles with, but embarrassment and shame seem to have stalked him almost since he was first born.

“Talk,” Clyde presses, “Talk or we’re staying here until you do.”

Luke can’t help feeling that Maria would have been better at this, and would have done it in a sympathetic way that would have made her far easier to talk to, but it’s nice that Clyde is trying. He likes that Clyde is trying.

“I didn’t know that fear could feel like that,” he admits helplessly.

Clyde frowns. “You’re not telling me that you’ve never been scared before?” he demands.

Luke feels stupider than ever, and stares at the shadows on the ground for a moment. “I’ve been scared before,” he manages, “But I didn’t know how… how deep fear can run, and how it can make the world look completely different. I didn’t know that it could make it hard to breathe and impossible to think properly. And I don’t see how you can just go back to normal after feeling like that for so long.”

Clyde is watching him intently when Luke finally raises his head. His expression is so serious, and Luke feels heat rushing up to his cheeks. He’s not feeling any less stupid.

“You were never a kid,” Clyde says simply.

Luke doesn’t see how this can explain this all away, but sits quietly and frowns until Clyde decides to elaborate.

“When you’re little, you don’t understand the world at all. And I don’t mean like you, ‘cause you struggle with all the social stuff, but the actual science bits make sense to you. But when you’re just a child, everything’s big and different and you’re scared of stuff that can’t possibly be there, but you don’t know that it can’t be there because the world is only made up of the stuff you know and most of that’s your imagination. Am I making sense?”

Luke processes this for a moment. “I… think so,” he says at last.

“Good.” Clyde laughs. “I’m not sure I followed most of that. But when you’re small you’re scared of things like the dark, and at night you have nightmares about all sorts of things. Kids get convinced they have monsters in their wardrobes and under their beds and stuff. They’re so scared they’ll only go to sleep if they have their blankets pulled over their heads, or if they don’t move a muscle, or if they leap into bed from a foot away. None of it’s logical, but they’re terrified anyway.”

“Childhood sounds horrible,” Luke mutters.

“It’s more fun than I’m making it sound,” Clyde promises, waving his uninjured hand carelessly in the air. “But the thing is, you get used to that kind of fear when you’re small. It doesn’t get less horrible, but you know what it feels like. But you… it’s caught you by surprise. And that’s ok. Yeah?”

Luke thinks about this for a while longer. “Yeah,” he manages at last.

“Great,” Clyde smiles. “I don’t know how girls do it,” he adds, slumping a little, “I’m exhausted now.”

“Sorry,” Luke mumbles, picking at the knee of his jeans.

“Don’t be stupid,” Clyde tells him, “I came over to help you.”

Luke wonders if, after a little over a year, he’s still meant to feel relieved when he finds out that Clyde and Maria do actually like him. He just feels like he’s so difficult for them, needing everything explained and not getting their jokes and not being interesting enough.

“Don’t look so guilty about it,” Clyde presses, grinning, “It’s what mates do.”

Luke forces a smile in return, and they fall into an easy silence. Luke has only realised recently how a lack of sound can actually be reassuring. Clyde shifts up on the bench again, squashed up again beside Luke, and Luke likes not being alone. Sarah Jane is careful about this too; not to leave him alone in the house so that he constantly has someone around him. Sitting alone in the attic with Mr Smith burbling end of the world! messages is something Luke doesn’t think he’ll ever forget, wondering if his mum was dead, if Maria and Clyde were ok, if the whole world was about to disintegrate.

“Bloody cheer up,” Clyde tells him, but he sounds amused so it doesn’t seem like an order.

“You got hurt,” Luke points out, “And your mum was terrified and you didn’t even know what was happening. Why are you all right with this?”

“Ignorance can be bliss,” Clyde shrugs. His fingers brush Luke’s, but Luke is too busy wondering how ignorance could be anything but an inconvenience. “Well,” Clyde laughs, “Maybe not for you…”

“I just feel… like I’m drowning,” Luke explains, closing his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see Clyde’s expression. “There are too many things in my head and they won’t stay organised and most of them are too scary to think about but I can’t put them somewhere else.”

He can feel Clyde’s shoulder shaking with amusement. “Welcome to being a teenager, mate. Actually, just welcome to being a person.”

“No.” Luke turns to look at him. “No, it can’t be like this for people all the time.”

“It really is,” Clyde promises, with a trace of that cheeky smirk. “No one’s minds are neatly organised like a computer, Luke. It’s all about the bits and pieces that fall out and don’t fit anywhere and won’t go away when you want them to.”

“Oh.” Luke swallows. “I think I want it to stop now.”

“It’s too late for that,” Clyde shrugs. “But that’s ok. Your mum will be pleased.”

It seems entirely natural for Luke’s head to drop onto Clyde’s shoulder, so he does that, and feels, after a moment, Clyde rest his cheek against Luke’s hair. It’s sort of comforting, being so close to someone else, and Luke doesn’t even think of the social awkwardness and embarrassment that ought to come from doing this. It’s just… peaceful.

“… I’m glad you’re not dead,” he mumbles eventually.

Clyde laughs, and it sounds strange, pressed this close. Luke sits up abruptly, only just avoiding banging Clyde’s chin.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” he asks anxiously.

“No.” Clyde stops laughing, and shakes his head slightly. “No, really no. It’s just… most people wouldn’t put it as bluntly as that.”

Luke nods, and files this away in case he needs it again in the future. Given the way aliens keep on invading and endangering them all, it’s probable he’ll have more conversations like this in the future.

“If it helps,” Clyde adds, putting his right hand on Luke’s shoulder, “I’m glad you’re not dead either.”

Their knees are touching, though Clyde is half-twisted around on the bench so they’re facing each other and Luke keeps staring into Clyde’s eyes and doesn’t know what to say. He often has this feeling around people, but this is slightly different and he doesn’t know why. He thinks he should probably look away, but he can’t.

“Fuck it,” Clyde murmurs, and leans forward. Luke is about to lean backwards when Clyde’s hand slips from his shoulder to his neck, pulling Luke a little more towards him, and pressing their lips together.

For a moment it’s strange and a little frightening and completely unexpected, and Luke’s eyes are wide open though all he can see is a strange blur. But Clyde is calm and certain and moves a little, nudging Luke’s mouth with his, so Luke tries the same thing and it turns out to not be scary and horrible, but actually… nice.

When people kiss on television it all looks really unhygienic and weirdly intimate, and Luke has always kind of assumed he’d just live his life without personal contact from others. But with Clyde it’s different; it’s warm and exciting and when Clyde pushes a little Luke’s mouth falls properly open without a second thought. Their tongues touch; tentatively at first, and then Luke completely forgets about the lack of hygiene and the fact that Clyde is so close to him that it should be unsettling.

Eventually, they have to pull apart because it’s getting hard to breathe, and Clyde buries his face in Luke’s shoulder. His thigh is crushing Luke’s and it’s hard to tell whether they’re sitting beside each other or half on top of each other and at the moment Luke really doesn’t care.

“How’s that for some freaky new feelings?” Clyde asks, and Luke reflects that a lot of people seem to have issues with kissing people of the same gender as them. At least according to the TV shows that he watches while his mum begs him not to; they’re quite an education in themselves.

“Are you ok?” he asks Clyde. Clyde raises his head and grins at him. His mouth looks a little swollen and Luke can’t help grinning back.

“Yeah, I’m ok. What about you?”

“I’m ok.” Luke says it, and realises that he actually means it. For the first time in days, he actually means it.

“Good.” Clyde kisses him again, and it feels completely normal. Luke wonders for a moment whether he’s just doing this because Clyde’s his friend; but then he tries to picture being this close to Maria. He doesn’t want to do this to her, but he pulls Clyde closer, a hand grasping in the back of his t-shirt.

They end up walking home together, fingers occasionally intertwining, shoulders bumping. Some day, they’re going to have to talk properly about whatever it is they’re doing; but they’ve got the whole summer and Luke doesn’t want to have that conversation just yet anyway.

His mum opens the door, and Luke smiles at her. She pulls him inside, wrapping her arms around him, and he feels her relief as she breathes out. He hugs her back, enjoying the silence.