She could die at any time. Any Moment could be her last

Isn't it funny, Clara Oswald thought. She'd always felt pity for those with fatal conditions that might end their lives at any moment. Like most of her species, she'd considered what a terrible thing it must be to never know if you'd see tomorrow. But then, she'd lived like that herself, when she travelled with the Doctor; knowing full well each day might bring death by Dalek, Viking, or Love Sprite. And she'd embraced it, living every moment to the fullest, never backing down, refusing to be cautious. For Clara Oswald, the uncertainty, the risk, it had all been exhilarating.

She was beginning to realize, now, that the opposite was far worse.

The stolen TARDIS rumbled as it flew through a minor time storm, and Clara reached for one of the buttons on the console. There was a yellow post-it note in the shape of an arrow next to it, with the word "stabilize" written in Ashildr's neat, flowing handwriting. The two girls had made good progress translating the TARDIS Manual, thanks to Ashildr's well-spent hours learning the basics of Gallifreyan while waiting for the Doctor at the end of time. Still, it was a little unsure, and some of the little sticky notes covering the controls read "force field?" "Lateral (something) circuit," or simply "Don't touch this one!"

Although the eternally young Viking girl still chose to answer to "Me," in private, and the now eternally young schoolteacher likewise went by Clara when they were alone, by mutual agreement they were Ash and Oswin to everyone else, both for the sake of avoiding grammatical confusion, and to keep the Doctor off their trail. Because although they were still theoretically headed for Gallifrey, it had now been a month since they set off and they were no closer to that final destination; In fact, she glanced at the screen to confirm, currently they weren't headed even remotely towards Kasterborous.

The ship rumbled again, rocking unexpectedly sideways and forcing the still half asleep Me to lean against the door frame for support as she entered the control room. "Morning, Clara," she mumbled.

"Good morning, Me," Clara replied cheerfully. She gestured to a pot filled with brown liquid stuck to the magnetic table off to one side. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please," the other said emphatically, stumbling towards it. Clara watched after her fondly for a moment, then carefully followed the translated instructions hanging from the side of the console to put the TARDIS into a stable holding orbit. She grabbed her own mug, which she'd set on top of the rotor, and went to join her companion.

Clara found Me to be an ideal companion. In her long life and travels, the girl had picked up all manner of skills, tricks, languages, and histories. She could fight with a sword, bow, or pistol better than anyone; and the things she'd picked up whilst travelling with Jack Harkness seemed as endless as they were endlessly surprising (Clara felt she definitely owed the man a drink or two if she ever ran into him). Most importantly, Ashildr was kind, clever, wise, and always ready for adventure.

As she refilled her mug, Clara asked "did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," Me replied. "And you?"

Clara shrugged indifferently. "I slept a few hours on Tuesday. I won't need to sleep again until tomorrow night." That had taken some getting used to, only needing a few hours' sleep a week, but she'd eventually overcome her misgivings and was now quite used to it; just as she'd gotten used to having to focus on pretending to breathe when around other people. She was glad, at least, that she could still eat, even if she didn't need anything like as much as she used to.

There was only one thing she couldn't get used to: the Question. The question that was on her mind every time she woke up, every moment she spent alone, at the beginning of every day. It hung over her like a sword, like a thunderhead on the wind, never far from her thoughts.

Am I ready to die today?

It would be a torture to live knowing you might die at any moment. But it was far worse to live knowing you had to choose that moment for yourself. Clara Oswald had faced the raven, she had died bravely trying to protect an innocent. It would have been a good death. But the Doctor had pulled her out of time one heartbeat away from death. He had broken the rules and bought her extra time. In return, she had helped him say goodbye in the only way he could.

It was time for her to go back and finish her death. But how? How could she choose to die while she was still alive? Time depended on the death of Clara Oswald, then and there. She could go back and finish it any time. Any day, any moment. But she wouldn't. Clara knew now that she was not brave enough to choose death, however right it might be, whilst it was possible for her to keep going. Perhaps she could find the courage she needed travelling with Me, she hoped; but she felt in her heart that when she finally returned to the Trap Street, it would be as a broken shell of herself, devoid of hope, alone, bitter, and screaming in the face of death at the injustice of it all. The true Clara Oswald would die long before her last heartbeat, she was sure.

Ashildr reached across the table and took Clara's hand in her own, interrupting her reverie. She smiled sadly, as though she knew Clara's secret thoughts. "Calveron Beta," she suggested. "The second most stars visible in one sky in the whole universe. Like Daylight, only magic."

"The second most?" Clara said, carefully wrapping her thoughts back up behind a playful smile. "You aren't holding out on me here, are you?"

"I've already been to the number one most," Me replied. "You know I'll do anything for you, Clara, short of actually breaking the universe. Again," she added.

"Oh, shut up, Me," Clara grinned.

"Make Me," the other challenged. She got up and walked over to the controls. "Then I think afterwards we'll go visit those children you like to tell stories to, back in the 1780's on earth. Or we could find some stranded mountaineers to save or something?"

Clara went to stand beside Me. She put one arm around the girl, and rested her other hand on a large lever with a post-it that read, "GO!"

Clara Oswald was not going to die well, like Danny Pink, as she'd hoped. The Doctor had stolen that ending from her. She was more than likely going to die hopeless, broken, and screaming. But crucially, she wasn't broken yet, and as long as she had any hope left, she was going to try to pass it on to everyone she could.

"The Immortal Ashildr and the Impossible Clara, off to save the universe."

I am not ready to die today.

She pulled the Lever. "Next stop: Everywhere."