A/N: I was very happy with Twelve remembering Clara in the Christmas special, although part of me really wished the real Clara would know that the Doctor remembers here, hence why I decided to write this.

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

Clara watched the alien man from the distance. Interacting with a young woman she could only assume was his newest companion. They seemed to be amusingly bantering about something, like they used to.

She smiled. It took him long enough, it took him over 4.5 billion years but he had found another home. He had learned to live without her, regardless if the ghost of her existence never ceased to hover over him. To haunt him.

No matter how it hurt her to see that he had moved on from her, to know that he had learned to live without her, to understand he no longer relied on her to survive. She pleased herself from the knowledge he had finally let go of her.

Or perhaps, he just couldn't remember her importance to his life.

Her ancient age, sometimes, also made her forget how important she once had been to him.

But she could never obliterate the significance he had on who she was. On who she came to be.

Everything she now was, everything she had ever achieved, everyone she had ever helped during her travels across time and space in her own TARDIS; she owed it all to him.

Sometimes, all she ever wanted was for him to get a glimpse of her and grant her that brand smile she had taught him how to smile. Sometimes, she just desired to find her way back into his mind.

Hence why she stood there. Hiding in the shadows. Amidst the Christmas Armistice of 1914, watching him from the distance. Knowing she would never be seen, and even if she were, she would never be recognized. Clara Oswald was lost in time.

And she didn't dare to move. Too scared to miss him this one last time, for she already missed him so much. Watching him like a guarding angel. Even if she knew he could take care of himself.

Although the slight yellow light that leaked from his closed fists made her doubt that he could.

Or perhaps, he had just surrendered his own life for the sake of others.

Like he had already done so many times.

And she understood. That would be the last she ever saw of him.

"A life is just memories. I'm all her memories, so I'm her."

Clara heard the woman say. From her tone, she could tell she was mad at his stubbornness, and she couldn't possibly blame her.

"If you say so."

The indifference coming from him made her fight the urge to roll her eyes. She only didn't because she wouldn't dare to miss anything; not anymore. She had already done her share of missing him; of longing for his presence near her; of fighting her human brain from slowly deleting the memories of their time together.

"Okay. I'm going to prove to you how important memories are. I've got a little goodbye present for you."

"Oh, that's nice. Will I have to pretend to like it? Because honestly, that rug—"

"Oh, come here you."

For a moment, Clara felt bad for penetrating their intimacy. The kiss the girl placed on his cheek was soft, gentle, like the sweet brush of an artist against their canvas. Like the pledge of a promise whispered to the stars.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor."

It all happened too fast for her to process. Clara was there, standing a few feet away from The Doctor, her Doctor, and yet she was still here, distant from him, from herself. Her knees grew weak underneath her and she could swear, her soul was at both places simultaneously.

"Clara."

The way he cried her name sent chills down her spine. She had already heard him call her so many times, to the point it would annoy her how he inserted her name into every little sentence. However, there was something different about his call. A mixture of desperation and relief. A gasp for oxygen after being underwater for too long.

"Hello, you stupid old man."

Although she hadn't a faint idea of why or how her other self was there, she could very well hear herself saying that. Were it a projection of his brain, her heart warmed at how well he had constructed her, how faithful to her personality it was. It was her.

"You're back. You're in my head. All my memories... are back."

Clara felt life trying to fade away from her. Her blood inched to start thumping against her veins and arteries. Her heart was on the edge of starting to beat again. Her oxygen was stuck in her throat and it was actually a good thing that she didn't really need to breathe anymore.

He remembered her.

He remembers.

Clara blinked slowly, trying to push away the surfacing tears. Her eyelids were heavy and every fiber of her being desired to run to him and touch him and promise him she would never leave his side ever again. She couldn't. Her frozen-in-time body finally obeyed to its frozen state and refused to move.

"And don't go forgetting me again, because, quite frankly, that was offensive."

Time seemed to freeze around them.

All the memories of their time together started flooding through their minds. Escaping the Doctor's brain from where they had been hidden for so many centuries and landing in Clara's brain after time had forced her to forget, given her aging.

The memory of being terrified of one another when his face first met her face.

The memory of her accepting him as her Doctor in some chilly evening in Glasgow.

The memory of him fetching her coffee from the best coffee place in the universe.

The memory of her visiting him as a child and teaching him the importance of being afraid just like he had taught her.

The memory of her waking up in the calm dozing beach, body wrapped in a blanket, after almost being blown up in an orient express, finding his sad figure playing with rocks and sticks, so adjusted to his surroundings he was almost a part of the environment himself.

The memory of him being trapped in the tiny TARDIS and she becoming the Doctor, only then understanding herself what it meant to be a good person.

The memory of her being trapped inside a Dalek and struggling to keep the tears from escaping her ducts whilst he tried to free her, only to fall into his arms once he succeeded and seek comfort from his old and tired embrace.

The memory of how he entertained her and eased her worries while they were trapped in a viking boat for two days in a roll. The memory of how she used his body as a pillow and as shelter during the trip.

The memory of how he pulled her into a corner after knocking some sense into Bonnie and held her tight in his arms, thanking her endlessly for not having died on him.

The memory of everything she told him to stop him from getting revenge on her death. The memory of her walking with open arms towards her death.

The memory of him pulling her out of her own time scream so she could live.

The memory of everything she had told him in the cloisters.

The memory of their last encounter, in a quiet diner in America, where he had no idea who she was and how essential to him she once had been.

The memory of how essential to her he once had been.

When reality took over her once again, her other self was gone. The Doctor's friend was gone. He was standing on his own, next to the TARDIS, fighting some inner battle against all his fears that he was about to meet. His eyes were traveling along the horizon, although they weren't really focusing on anything or anyone.

Until they met hers.

The Doctor tilted his head slightly, trying to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or having some sort of pre regeneration vision. For all he knew, he was. Yet, that didn't stop him from opening a most genuine smile for her.

And Clara smiled back. Although the distance between them still existed, they were close enough for him to see her cheeks damp from her own tears; for her to see the fear in his eyes be momentarily replaced by happiness. A happiness because she was there.

Clara Oswald was there for him in the final moments before his death.

Just like the Doctor would be there for her in the final moments before her death.

Giggling to himself for being so silly he couldn't stop seeing her now that he had her back in his mind, he lowered his head and entered the TARDIS. The spaceship soon ceased to exist in that precise time and space.

Clara stood still for several moments. Unable to move, unable to exist. Until she felt a twinge coming from her heart and she knew.

Her Doctor had died on her.

Perhaps, she concluded to herself, it was time for her to die, too.

A/N: Any feedback here or on twitter (dutiesofcare) is much appreciated :)