Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Drowning

Despite his fears Clara didn't hesitate even one second before she grabbed his hand and followed him into the TARDIS. And off they went on a stream of adventures full of alien planets and beating monsters, always fighting the good fight. He kept waiting for the day she would ask him to slow down and stop, demand to be returned to her silly boring human life and stupid job but the request never came. She was running, running faster than he had ever done.

It was inevitable. He had to do something before they reached the point of no return. At the speed she was throwing herself into the next adventure, always dancing on a very thin line daring death to come take her, they were bound up to end up there pretty soon. And he could not bear the thought of that. He could not even let himself think of the possibility of standing over her broken body one day with the knowledge that he could have stopped it right here and now.

They were sitting on the beach, close to each other but not quite touching, still worlds apart watching the third sun set.

"How long are we going to stay here?" Clara asked.

The Doctor tried to fight the stab at his hearts he felt when he heard the boredom in her voice: "Don't you want to watch? It's quite beautiful."

"I suppose it is," she huffed. "But I don't like sitting still. And I thought that you didn't either."

"That was Bow Tie, not me," the Doctor spat out disgusted. "There's nothing wrong with being idle once in a while, especially if there's such beauty in front of your eyes."

"Okay," Clara sighed. "We can stay if that's what you want."

The Doctor continued to watch the sunset in silence but when he turned to Clara he noticed that her gaze was elsewhere. She was staring at the water intently.

"A penny for your thoughts?" the Doctor offered finally.

"I've been thinking lately," she started unsure, her face once again malfunctioning with the sad smile.

"Well, thinking's good. I was afraid you'd go all pudding brain on me for a bit there," the Doctor tried lightening the mood.

She didn't laugh: "You've died before, right?"

"Several times," the Doctor sighed not liking where the conversation was going one bit. "I don't recommend it much."

"What does it feel like?"

He didn't detect curiosity in her voice, it was more of a calculated question.

"Well, that quite depends on how you die. If you're as unfortunate as me there's a lot of pain involved quite often," he tried to explain: "but I've never truly died, Clara. You can't equate regeneration with death. I get rewritten but I'm still alive."

He didn't quite feel that he managed to hammer the point home.

Her eyes glazed over with a distant expression as she finally whispered: "I've been thinking about drowning."

"Clara," he began his voice soft but mingled with fear and fiery red anger: "you're scaring me."

"The day after my mum died I took a bath and the next thing I knew my head was underwater. Slowly the water filled in my nose and my ears and I could feel it, almost taste it in my lungs and if I could hold on just a little longer I could be with my mum again. But then there was a pat of me kicking and screaming 'I want to live!' and I went out of the water, took in a few deep breaths and it was all over. But just for those few seconds I felt at peace, it would have been so easy, no more pain, no more suffering. Just nothing,"
she recounted the tale in a low voice playing nervously with her fingers. "Before Christmas it almost felt like I was drowning again. But without the ability to reach that point of peace."

"Before Christmas, so you no longer..." the Doctor stammered desperately hoping to find an upside to her story.

"Not when I'm with you," she shook her head and avoided looking at the setting sun: "well not most of the time."

"Not when you're running," he said voicing the unspoken words.

"No, not when we're running. Running feels more like swimming through the water," Clara acknowledged.

"But you can't keep on running forever, Clara," the Doctor breathed out touching her hand tenderly.

"Funny," she let out a hollow laugh. "You could have fooled me. Isn't that what you've been doing all your life? Almost all of your lifetimes?

"Yes!" he cried. "And don't you see, Clara? Am I not proof enough that running forever doesn't lead you anywhere? The iceberg just gets bigger and there's more and more that can sink you to the pit of the ocean."

"I'm not about to stop," she said decisively.

"I know," he said gravely. "But how about we just slow down for a bit here and there? Not for your sake but for mine. I am a very old man after all."

"Doctor," she laughed hollowly: "you're not even that old for a Time Lord."

"Perhaps. How would you know anyway? But watching you run ages me a hundred every second. Seeing you throw yourself into danger makes ME feel like drowning, Clara. And it's unbearable. So allow this silly old man the courtesy of enjoying the swimming during a slow peaceful moment somewhere."

"You were right, it is beautiful," Clara conceded her hand tightly clasped in the Doctor's as she finally looked at the setting sun.