The TARDIS landed with a dull thump. The Doctor stood slumped dejectedly over the console, leaning on his hands.
"Come on, then, let's go!" Clara said, heading for the doors.
The Doctor didn't move. "I should have left you back on Earth."
"Pardon?"
"I never should have brought you here. I should have left you back on Earth, where you belong."
"No. After all that we've been through, you don't get to decide that for me. I want to be here."
He turned then, and spoke in a deadly quiet tone. "I do get to decide, because I've lived for centuries - centuries - longer than you, Clara. I watched my world fall and burn - I made that happen. And now it's about to happen again. I don't know how we got here, and I don't know if I can get us out again."
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Do you understand? We could both die here, and no one at home would know what had become of you. Not the Maitlands, or your dad, or anyone that you love. Do you understand that?"
He watched a singe tear glide down her face and cursed himself for putting it there.
"One person," she whispered.
"What?"
"One person that I love would know what had become of me."
He stepped closer and gently cupped her face in his hand, wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb. His voice was softer when he spoke again.
"I just want you safe. I've lost so much…I couldn't bear to lose you as well."
"Then you'd best hold on tight," Clara told him, interlacing their fingers tightly.