A/N: Hello hello. So... I suppose I'm still in denial about the Doctor and Clara. But I had this idea floating around in my head, and it wouldn't shut up until I wrote it down. I kept thinking about what would happen when Clara finally went back to Gallifrey. We all know she wouldn't have just forgotten about the Doctor in all her travels with Ashildr, maybe she'd even run into him a time or two. But that's a story for another time.

No, I kept thinking, would she go back without knowing if the Doctor was okay first? Answer: No way! She was his carer, after all. What kind of carer would she be if she just waltzed off back to Gallifrey without checking on him before she went?

While I'm completely convinced that Clara will meet the Doctor again sometime (they both have TARDISes and love a good adventure, they're bound to run into each other at least once!) for the purpose of this story, she has not. This is just my own version of how a final goodbye would be, and how Clara would be the Doctor's carer one more time before she went back to Gallifrey.

Ashildr understood, I think. I mean, she'd been around long enough to know the feeling. I was just tired. I was tired of running and tired of feeling the axe over my head, just waiting to drop. I'd done just as he'd asked. I'd run like hell, and I'd laughed the whole way. I did my best to never be cruel, never be cowardly. I didn't always get it right, but I tried. And I did my best to make up for it when I got it wrong. I hadn't stopped since I'd left him in America. And I'd never come close to a pear.

It'd taken a while, but the high from heading off into space and time in my very own TARDIS had faded. Life was never dull, and there were some days that I ran so fast and so far I could forget what I was running from. I could forget the ache that came with too much thought and too much stillness. It was at the end of the day, when Ashildr and I would burst through the diner doors, brushing the dust of the adventure from our clothes and giggling like schoolgirls that I could feel the subtle pull of that ache. Ashildr would wander off to her own whims, and I would be alone to fiddle with the TARDIS and think too much. I could remember why I ran, and I didn't want to remember.

So it had been with quiet reservation that I'd met Ashildr's curious eyes across the console and told her what she knew I was feeling. It was time to stop. It was time to pay my due to the raven. I'd pushed it enough, ran enough. And I was tired of it.

I didn't want to die, and I'd made that very clear to her. I had no interest in death. I just wanted peace. And even though I'd found that, in a small way, in helping the souls around the galaxy that couldn't help themselves, it hadn't been exactly what it used to be. There was a piece missing, and I knew full well what that piece was. And I was tired of dodging it. Dodging him, all through time and space. It was time to stop.

So I'd turned the navigation systems off, slaved the TARDIS to me as he'd done so long ago with his own, and concentrated as hard as I could. There was one last thing I needed to do before I went back to Gallifrey. It was the whole reason I existed, after all.

The TARDIS landed with that dull thud, and I pulled my fingers from the telepathic circuits.

"You sure about this?" Ashildr asked me. "What if-"

"I got this," I said as I made my way toward the door. "Just give me a few minutes. That should be enough."

"But-"

"Ashildr, stop it. Just give me this without an argument, okay?"

She glared at me in that superior I'm-billions-of-years-old way that she had, but anything she had been about to say stayed quiet. I gave her one more nod, then pushed back through the doors and outside.

I had to stifle a small giggle at where the telepathic circuits had taken me. London. Probably early 21st century. Of course he'd be here. For a man who'd called London a dump, he certainly spent an awful lot of time here.

I set off down the street, not really knowing where I was going. I didn't need to know. The Doctor typically left enough bread crumbs in his wake that anyone with half a brain could follow. I just had to find one, and the rest would take care of itself.

I didn't have to walk for long. I had barely made it half a block before I glanced down a random alley on a whim. I did a double take, the breath catching in my throat at the flash of unmistakable blue.

The words "Police Box" glowed in the dimness of the alley with enough brightness to light a sun. And even while the pang of longing shot through me and made my eyes smart, I felt a familiar warmth of joy bloom in my chest. That box… That was home, just where I'd asked my TARDIS to take me. And the man inside it had my heart, however silent it was.

I approached slowly, as if it would dematerialize with that musical whirring before I could get to the door. I wasn't even sure why I was moving toward it, I'd only wanted a glance. Just one look, just tao make sure. But standing in front of it now, I felt the uncontrollable urge to sprint inside and feel the TARDIS surround me. Like a hug I'd been craving without knowing it. I wanted to touch it, run my hand along the blue wood. The key I still wore around my neck felt like it was burning against my skin the closer I got.

I reached out with a shaking hand and rested my palm against the door. So soft I wondered if I'd just imagined it, the old girl hummed at my touch.

"Hey, you grumpy old cow," I whispered. The wood under my hand vibrated with another hum. "Long time no see, eh?" The TARDIS chirped in response, and a small smile quirked on my lips. I wasn't nearly as attuned to her as he was, but I got the sense that she was happy to see me. She'd missed me.

I nodded toward the door. "Do you mind?" I could have just used my key, I knew, but something felt wrong about that. I didn't belong here anymore, and that knowledge stung in my heart with surprising strength.

The TARDIS chirped softly again, and the door cracked open with a tiny creak. My chest tightened with sudden fear and nerves, so tight the breath caught in my throat for a second. Did I dare go in again? Just a second ago I'd wanted to so bad it hurt, but now it didn't seem like such a good idea. What if he was there? What could I possibly say? And he certainly had a new playmate now, and since he had no memories of me, neither of them would have the faintest clue who the strange girl with no pulse strolling through their front door was.

But the need to just see it, to stand in the one place I longed to be more than anywhere else, drew me towards the door. Knees knocking with nerves and wistful longing, I gently pushed the door open.

The TARDIS was dimmed on the inside, shadows creeping as the light from the outside came in and mixed with the yellow glow of the console. With a curious mixture of immense relief and crushing disappointment raging in my chest, I realized he wasn't there. And neither was his playmate. It was probably best. If I'd seen him, I didn't know how I could handle the lack of recognition in his eyes when he saw me. Or how I could possibly tear myself away from him again.

I approached the glowing console slowly, scanning the inside carefully as I turned in a circle to see it all properly. He'd kept it pretty much the same as he had back then. The low lighting, the books lining the walls on the upper level, they were all still the same. He had added more blackboards, though. And all of them were filled with complicated-looking equations and circular Gallifreyan in a hasty scribble. His guitar was leaning against the console, still plugged in.

I really did love my TARIDS, but I knew it would never be the same as his TARDIS, and I always knew why. Mine had a hole in it, a hole only I could feel and only he could fill. This TARDIS, this room, was where I had the best times of my life. This was where the Doctor had dragged me by the hand to escape a runaway plane, and then showed me the wonders of the galaxy he'd made his backyard. This was the place I'd always felt safe, always protected. All because he was the one who was at my side.

No matter how wonderful my travels had been in my own TARDIS, no matter how much I really did enjoy Ashildr's companionship, there was no way to compare to the sheer wonder that had been traveling with the Doctor. His TARDIS was more my home than any other place in the universe. Nothing would ever change that. Even though it felt empty now with just me and no scowling, grumpy stick bug of a Doctor in it, I felt more at ease here than ever. Because he was still everywhere. His guitar leaning against the console, his chair and blackboards on the upper level, his books strewn across the bookshelves, his coat draped over the rail… The whole place was him.

He was my home.

I stroked the edge of the console with a light finger, fighting the lump that was rising in my throat. I traced the throttle, lightly ran my hand over the buttons and levers and the telepathic circuits. I thought back, so long ago, when he'd tried to teach me to fly. I remembered how he'd smiled so happily and stood so close as I flipped the buttons he'd shown me.

"I'll make it easy! Shut it down to basic mode for you."

"Basic? 'Cause I'm a girl?"

"No…"

I remembered, long after, when he'd gotten his new face, how he'd gently took my hands in his and pushed my fingers into the telepathic circuits, slaving his TARDIS to me.

"Don't think anything rude."

"Why?"

"Because it might show up on all the screens."

And even before that. My throat tightened painfully and my eyes pricked a the memory. Tears dripped over my cheeks.

"Am I home?"

"If you want to be."

God, I missed him. I missed him and my home and everything that went with it. Every single thing, good and bad.

I leaned with my hands braced against the console, head dipping between my shoulders. I'd come here for a reason. I had to see it through, even if it wasn't in the way I'd planned. "Is he okay now?" I whispered. I watched as the tears dripped onto the buttons. "Does he have someone to look out for him?"

The TARDIS thrummed, and it sounded a little sad, wistful. An image blinked onto the screen, and I dragged my eyes up to see.

It was like a punch to the gut, seeing his face again. It knocked the breath right out of me. The same blue eyes, long and thin limbs, the curly cloud of hair atop his head. That shark-tooth grin. He was smiling hugely and holding his guitar in the image the TARDIS was showing me, like he'd been laughing uproariously with the girl who leaned against the console next to him with comfortable ease.

She was slightly taller than me, but not by much, and looked a few years younger. She was ginger, startlingly ginger, almost like her hair had caught fire. Her eyes were bright blue, like his, and she was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans with a dark jacket and sneakers. And she was smiling, too, looking up at him with bright, happy, adoring eyes.

I choked on a sob, fresh tears leaking out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. But I couldn't help smiling at his obvious happiness. That's all I wanted, really. For him to be happy.

My hand rested against the screen, like if I stroked his image on the screen, he could feel it somehow. He would know that I was here, that I was thinking about him and missing him so much that I couldn't breathe and my silent heart was breaking. I pressed my forehead against the edge of the screen and closed my eyes.

"You take care of him," I choked out softly. "You hear me? Look after him, keep him safe." My voice sank to a raspy whisper, and it was taking everything I had to not crumple to the floor with the agony ripping through my heart.

"Please, just hold his hand," I murmured. "Hold his hand, and don't let go." Someone had to. And if it couldn't be me, I hoped that this red-headed girl was up to the task. I knew first-hand how hard it could be, he was such a pain sometimes. But judging by the adoration and admiration in her eyes, she was all too happy to be there for him. I just wished it could be me again. I'd give anything, absolutely anything, for just one more adventure with him.

"Keep them out of trouble, eh?" I whispered, giving the console a pat. "A red-head and a Scotsman. Dangerous pair." Hopefully she wasn't Scottish, too. Now that would be interesting. "And just… Take him where he needs to go. Where he can be a Doctor."

I couldn't help glancing up at that one board at the top of the stairs, however silly I knew it was. It had been such a long time ago, I was stupid for looking. But I sucked in a small gasp when I saw those words, faded with time but still there. Run you clever boy. And be a Doctor. My last request of him.

I drew a deep breath to pull myself together. "Hold him to that for me," I said, patting the console again. "He'll need it sometimes." I gestured to the screen with a small smirk. "Unless she's some kind of miracle worker and can keep him in line every time something doesn't go his way."

The TARDIS hummed, like she was laughing with me.

I blew out a breath, wiping the tears away. I had to go, I didn't know how long he'd be gone with his new companion, what kind of adventure they were having together right now. If I knew the Doctor, though, she was having the time of her life. He'd make sure of it. But I couldn't be here when they got back. As if she was reading my thoughts, the TARDIS switched the screen back to the circular Gallifreyan background.

I turned away from the console and headed toward the door with slow steps. I trailed my hand along the rail as I went, then paused for a last look around the place that had been home for the best years of my life. If I concentrated just enough, I could almost see it all.

I could watch him twirl around the console in his purple coat, hands flailing as he explained something too vast for my human brain to understand, try as I might. I could see him in his space suit, camera in hand, joking with me to only take shallow breaths while he snapped photos of the end of the world. I could hear him asking me if I felt safe with him, a mad man in a box. Feel him leaning next to me, out the door, watching a solar flare harmlessly blanket the Earth. Hear him fiddling on his guitar, asking me who actually composed Beethoven's fifth. See his ecstatic smile, the happiest I'd ever seen him, as he pulled me into the TARDIS on a Christmas Eve that would forever be the best Christmas of my life.

I let the smile spread across my face. Yes, my past in this place, with him, was mine. And damn it, it had been a good one.

I slipped out the door, let it click closed, and pressed a quick kiss to the wood. "Thanks, you," I whispered, leaning my forehead against her. "For all of it. It was the best."

I felt the TARDIS thrum under my hand, and I smiled a little more. After one more lingering pat, I turned away. I felt empty, like I was leaving part of me behind in that blue box as I walked away, but it wasn't a bad feeling. If anything, I felt lighter, peaceful. Almost happy.

My Doctor would be taken care of, the TARDIS would make sure of that. Even now, he was off having a spectacular time with a girl who looked at him the way I used to. Someday, she would see that the wonders of the blue box weren't on the outside. They weren't the places she'd get to see, though they were all amazing and beautiful. No, the true wonder of the universe was the daft old man next to her. There was not one star, not one planet or galaxy that could compare to the wonder that was the Doctor's soul.

A long time ago, the Doctor had asked me what I'd wanted to see. And I'd answered with the only thing I could think of.

"So, I'd like to see... I would like to see...What I would like to see is… Something awesome."

Well, he'd definitely made good on his promise. I could go back to face the raven with my chin up and shoulders back. Because it certainly had been awesome.