Author Note:

This story pairs 10xClara and also 12xClara in a love triangle. It's AU, obviously.

For the benefit of anyone who wants to troll/criticise via anonymous reviews saying 'they are not in character' and obsessing over non canon aspects, as a certain person has done since I wrote my first fic and consistently trolled me (which has been reported), be advised that AU means the characters will be slightly different and NOT canon because that is what AU means. Don't like, don't read.

For everyone else who appreciates my fics, enjoy – I have been away busy writing two books of my own and also been ill with a nasty virus and its great to have enough energy to write fiction again. I cant promise a chapter a day but I will try to get my writing speed up as quickly as I can. Bear with me :-)

Borrowed Time

Summary:

The Doctor is in love with Clara, but yet to find the courage to break the ice and tell her how he feels. But after a chance meeting with the Tenth Doctor as time lines collide, he finds Clara is captivated by him – and later begins to ask questions about the Doctor's former lifetime.

When Clara learns his Tenth life ended tragically and that he died alone, she is deeply distressed to know this – and purely because he loves her, offers to have a hand in altering fate ever so slightly, allowing his Tenth lifetime a few more days so that Clara can keep him company until the end.

But what begins as a kind gesture to ease Clara's sorrow - and to alter his own memories of a lonely death - turns into something else when his attempt to alter the circumstances of his Tenth life's death backfires in an unexpected way – leaving the radiation poisoned Tenth Doctor with much longer to live than first expected – and then Clara tells him she wants to stay with him until the end, but that end could be a long time coming, because the Tenth Doctor is now looking at surviving for another eighteen months...

The Doctor realises the price he has paid for buying this time will mean his own separation from Clara, and it dawns on him that he has made a big mistake because it seems Clara is determined to stay with the Tenth Doctor, and he knows he runs the risk of losing her to his former self.

Then consequences take a further unexpected turn when Clara tells him she is pregnant – and the Doctor must explain that due to the radiation that has damaged her lover's body, Clara's child will certainly suffer mutations.

As Clara vows to keep her child, the Doctor wonders if he has lost her to a former lifetime that will soon end, as he finds himself pushed out by her devotion to his dying former self.

It seems his gesture to offer Clara the chance to ease her sorrow and give himself better memories of a former death will backfire disastrously as he wonders if his decision to tinker with time will end with him losing Clara forever...

Rated T (For love scenes and also for dealing with highly emotive subject matter).

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all this is me writing for love of my favourite fandom.

Warnings:

Several:

Adult discussions and themes, contains passionate love scenes as well as mentioning the highly sensitive subjects of the abortion/pro-life issue, terminal illness and euthanasia.

This fic is not intended to be a debate/platform for the author's personal views or to spark a discussion on any of the above and any comments/reviews from readers intended to inflame others or cause offense will be removed.

It is a story, plain and simple, and contains sensitive subject matter. Do NOT read if any of these subjects cause distress. For the rest (majority) who can read a heavy emotional fic and enjoy the rollercoaster for what it is, read on.

Chapter 1

'Don't push too far
Your dreams are china in your hand
Don't wish too hard
Because they may come true
And you can't help them
You don't know what you might
Have set upon yourself...'

~ China in your Hand, T'Pau, 1987.

It never should have happened.

The Doctor knew it, and he was pretty sure Clara knew it, too.

But it had happened, and he only had himself to blame:

Time lines had crossed.

That happened sometimes, it was a hazard of travelling all of time and space -eventually, the Doctor knew he would run into another version of himself.

And when he did, Clara had spent hours walking along the shores of a beautiful planet far from Earth, hand in hand with another Doctor.

He had watched from the balcony of the hotel, angry with himself for not telling Clara just how much he loved her.

But I love you were quite possibly the three most terrifying words in the universe - at least, they were to the Doctor, who in his Twelfth incarnation was not a hugger and definitely not a man to easily show his feelings.

But he ached to tell her.

He ached to hold her too.

He was in love with Clara Oswald.

And the Doctor did not know if or when he would now ever get the chance to tell her – on that day as he stood on the balcony and watched as she laughed and then embraced the man who walked with her along the shore.

That man she walked with, and then held hands with, was his Tenth self.

As he thought back to that lifetime and how easily he had handled his emotions back then, how easy he had found it to be warm and affectionate in those days, his twin hearts ached for all he could not be in this regeneration.

Then he remembered that the amber sun was turning a shade of crimson as it sank slowly on the horizon, looking huge and giving the illusion it was being swallowed by the gentle sunlit waters as evening beckoned.

He would be leaving soon.

Then Clara would come back to the hotel and...

The Doctor gave a sigh.

This meeting with his other self had not helped him at all, Clara clearly liked him and now he felt as if the trip to this beautiful planet was turning into one big set back for his plans for her ad where she figured in the plans he secretly dared to dream when thinking of a shared future...

Down on the beach, Clara looked up at the tall man whose long coat billowed out behind him as the sea breeze caught his coat tails. That breeze ruffled his hair as well and he ran his fingers through it and looked at Clara and she smiled up at him.

"This has been nice, meeting you like this," he said to her, "And I really wish -" he paused, looking out to sea as he gathered his thoughts, and then he turned his head and looked at her.

"I wish we could have met before – you know, before you met that future grumpy me up there, the one whose watching us from the balcony."

Clara turned towards the hotel and saw the Doctor step back out of sight and she felt a prickle of guilt and wondered why she ought to be feeling that way at all. They had only talked...there was nothing wrong with talking. And they'd held hands, nothing wrong with that, either...

Except that as she looked into his eyes she felt an ache in her heart as wishful thinking cut through reality, whispering to her of all that might have been in another time and place.

She looked down at the sand as she watched clear water run to shore and flow back again. It reminded her of the pull of time, of how he would step into his blue box just up ahead near the rocks away from the water, and he would leave, and they would never meet again, and she would go back to her Doctor and they too would go their own way, as if all were pebbles shifted about by the tide of time that carried them all.

Then a thought hit her as she looked into his dark eyes, and that thought came as something of a shock:
I could fall in love with this man...

She wondered why that thought was so stinging with regret – she had her Doctor waiting for her back at the hotel, and lately their looks had lingered and the fondness deepened between them, sliding past friendship and into something beautiful yet so far, unspoken.

"I'd better get back," Clara told him, and although she had said it, in her heart, she didn't mean it.

"Maybe we'll meet again," the Doctor said, "Nothing is impossible." And he smiled and her heart ached all over again.

"I won't forget you," he said, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Their eyes met, she turned her head, and then their lips touched. The kiss they shared lasted seconds, and then he broke off from it and stepped back. The sea rolled to shore turning sand and pebbles in a timeless rush and their eyes met one last time.

"Bye, Clara Oswald," the Doctor said, and then he turned away, walked over to his Tardis and went inside. Clara didn't watch as the police box disappeared, instead she turned back and headed for the path that led to the hotel, trying to forget about an afternoon meeting on the sand that she knew she would always remember.

"You looked like you were having quite a conversation with that other me," the Doctor remarked as she joined him on the hotel balcony and sat down at the table, "It looked like you were having a fascinating discussion – not that I paid much attention to the two of you down there on the beach." And his pale blue eyes darted from Clara to the setting sun as he spoke again, "But of course, he is gone, Clara. I my time line, he ceased to exist a long time ago. He's dead where we come from, he was me, two regenerations ago, a piece of my past."

The he met he gaze, and he noticed her eyes were shaded by sadness as the setting sun threw its rays n to the balcony, making her hair glow with red highlights as far too much emotion showed in her eyes than he card to see, especially as that emotion was for an old version of the Doctor and not the man he was today...

"He's been dead a long time," he said, and he paused to sip a cocktail and then he set it down on the table, opened up two buttons on his shirt and smiled at Clara.

"So, what do you think of this place? Is this a nice place for us to relax? This isn't like the Orient Express. No mummies, no danger. Just you and me and a quiet weekend in a paradise resort -"

"How did he die?"

The Doctor blinked, focussed on Clara and reminded himself that tonight could pave significant in their relationship, and it was best not to snap at her about anything, even though he early disliked the notion of recalling any of his many deaths...

"Clara," he said as he looked at her across the table, "If you were capable of remembering moment of every time you died to save me, Impossible Girl – would you like to chat about it over a few drinks? Or shall we wait for dinner tonight, and you can tell me which was your favourite death, which one was the least painful. Or shall we start with the worst one, the one that's going to give you bad dreams if you talk about it? "

Clara's eyes widened in surprise.

"I was only asking -"

"Why would you want to know that? I've died many times and I remember all my deaths. It's not exactly a happy subject to drag up, is it?"

Hurt reflected in his eyes and then it was gone and Clara felt awkward.

"Sorry," she said, and she reached for her drink but then changed her mind as she looked across the table at him.

"I didn't think of it that way, how it would bring up painful memories. I didn't mean to do that to you."

He sipped his own drink and set it down again, watched the waves roll to shore in the distance and then looked back at her.

"Radiation poisoning."

This time there was not a flicker of discomfort in his blue gaze.

"A massive dose," he continued, "I was in a situation and perhaps if I was the man I am today I would have not stepped into that booth to spare the life of an old human, maybe I would have said too late for him, sorry. But I wasn't so hardened back then. I took the dose and it was terribly painful and then, I made sure everyone I'd known in that lifetime was okay, I looked them all up before the end."

"That was a really kind thing to do."

"And then I went back to the Tardis. I can still remember my last words, I said , I don't want to go...and then he died and regenerated into the Doctor you first met – bow tie boy. The rest you know, here I am today."

And he sipped his drink and put it down again.

Clara had not touched her drink as she sat there deep in thought, recalling the handsome man she had just walked with on the beach.

"You remember dying?" she said quietly, and he nodded, and it shocked her to see his eyes had misted with tears. He quickly wiped them away and carried on speaking, being sure to avoid meeting her gaze again until his emotions were under control once more.

"I'm sorry if I upset you -"

"No, you didn't upset me, Clara. But it's never easy recalling the end. The one thing that stays with me more than anything is remembering I didn't want to go, I wasn't ready to die. And..." he paused, she thought she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, and then it was gone as he added, "And I didn't want to die alone. That was the worst part."

Then it was his turn to feel surprised as he saw such deep pain in Clara's expression that it made his own hearts ache sharply.

"But that was the past. Leave it the past."

"I can't."

His blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Excuse me? I think you can leave my past alone if I ask you to, I didn't even know you back then. I'd yet to live my eleventh life and find my Impossible Girl. I'm in my Twelfth life now. That's a lot of distance between then and now. Leave the past alone."

Clara looked down at the table, then she ran her fingers though her hair and the sunset caught on it and made it shimmer and the Doctor wondered why he felt so emotional all of a sudden.

"But..." she met his gaze, "Don't you think it would be better if you could change that? If you could die with someone there beside you? It would make his death less painful and your memories a little better?"

The Doctor looked at her with interest. Now she was mentioning his own advantage to be gained by changing it, he was starting to warm to the idea.

"Maybe I'm selfish to say this but I'd love to rewrite that chapter of my past," he admitted, "I doubt if the memory would carry through after the regeneration because my body was so wrecked by the radiation – but I'd certainly recall it now, as me – I know because I recall dying alone and if you was there beside me I know I'd keep that memory. You're right, less pain for me. Good idea."

Clara's eyes widened.

"You're agreeing with me?"

"Yes, I am." He rose from his seat and held out his hand to her. Clara got up too and as she took hold of his hand and their eyes met, the silence that passed between them seemed to be begging for something to be said, something about their closeness and what it meant, but then the moment was gone as the Doctor led her over to the Tardis, the blue box was in the corner of the living room area of their holiday apartment and he opened the door and led her inside.

"This is not how I planned to send the evening," he admitted as the door closed behind them, "But you do have a point about making a better memory for me. And if I'm honest about it, I'd rather have you there than anyone else, especially at a time like that."

And he let go of her hand and she wanted him to take hold of it again, she ached for his touch and wanted to say something about how she longed to be closer to him, but now he was at the console and his back was turned as he began to key in some co ordinates.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

He still had his back to her.

"It looks like we're leaving?"

"I'm linking to the other Tardis. I need to lock on to the right time and place."

Then something flashed on the console and as Clara stepped closer she watched as the Doctor hit a button and a hidden panel slid back. What was inside it looked like some kind of a gun, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen before – it had a short narrow barrel and a silver trigger. The Doctor's hand shook as he removed it from the panel.

"Doctor?" she said, wondering why he had just broken out into a sweat.

"This is going to hurt," he told her, "I'm basically going to give my other self a shot of something he needs, it will buy him some time – enough time for you to get over to him and make sure I don't die alone. Who knows, it might even give him a couple of days," he laughed nervously and his fingers trembled as he typed something on to a keypad and then waited for the print out to complete.

"I'm going to put something into that open unit on the console," he sad to her indicating to where he had taken the gun from, "Then I need you to throw the lever and send it and the Tardis to the right point in time and space."

"Why can't you do it?" Clara asked.

The Doctor pressed the gun to his hip and pulled the trigger. There was a loud snap and he gave a gasp of pain and sank to the floor, shaking and sweating as he reached below the butt of the gun and drew out a syringe made of glass and polished silver.

"Take it!" he gasped, and Clara took it from his shaking hand and placed it back in the open unit, then she threw the lever and the Tardis groaned and whooshed and fell silent once more.

She had many questions, especially as the syringe had now vanished from the open compartment, but only one question was uppermost on her mind as she looked down at the Doctor, who was on the floor, leaning against the console and breathless and sweating as he clutched at his aching hip.

"What did you just do?" she asked him.

The Doctor looked up at her as more sweat ran down his face.

"I just extracted some of my own bone marrow. It will buy the other me some time... You'd better go. I'm, a Time Lord, I can get over this quickly...just go to him..."

But Clara stood where she was, leaning over the Doctor as she looked at him in alarm.

"I can't leave you like this – you're in agony!"

Defiance shone in his blue eyes, along with a hint of impatience that suggested he was growing weary of her concern.

"Will you just do as I ask, Clara? You didn't want me to die alone – I don't want that memory either - so get out of here and make me a better memory, please!"

Clara hesitated.

"I need to be sure you're okay – Let me help you up, put you to bed -"

"That is not the way I'd planned it," he said and more sweat ran down his face as he laughed and Clara looked at him in confusion.

"Planned what?" she asked him.

"That's for another time. Get out of here."

Still she lingered.

"I'm worried about you."

He gave a sigh.

"I'm not sure which is harder to bear, your refusal to follow instructions, or the pain in my hip! Get out of here, Clara – go to him, don't let me die alone!"

The Tenth Doctor had not heard the sound of another Tardis landing within this one, far up in the corridor beyond. He was standing alone in the console room as pain coursed through a body that radiation had damaged beyond repair, and he knew the end was coming.

"I don't want to go..." he had whispered as tear ran down his face.

And then it had appeared on the console – a split second before the fires of regeneration had started to swirl deep inside him. He snatched it up and looked at it, blinked to clear blurred vision as he fought against weakens and read the message attached to the syringe:

Some more time for you - Inject me - sincerely, The Doctor.

He looked at the ornate silver that covered the glass syringe – its style was decidedly Time Lord and he had no time to think about it, because he knew he was dying. He gripped the syringe tightly and plunged it downwards, the needle hit bone as he injected the contents, and then, with the needle still stuck through the fabric of his suit and lodged firmly in his hip, he fell to the floor of the console room, knocked out cold by pain and weakness, but he definitely had his wish:

He hadn't wanted to go.

And now he wasn't going anywhere, at least, not for a while...