A/N: I strongly recommend listening to "Arctic" by Sleeping At Last while reading this, it makes everything extra painful.
Nicole (artcapaldi), thanks for letting me write this, you're the best.
"She'll die on you, you know. She'll blow away like smoke."
If he didn't know better, he would have said that the skies were darker and the light of the stars were fainter because of her.
Perhaps, he didn't know better.
The Doctor fell to his knees next to Clara's body, her lifeless body. The wind howled loudly in the tap street, disturbing the leaves on the trees and agitating them in the air. Some sick kind of a joke.
She had blown into the world on a leaf and she faded away from the world surrounded by them.
Her story was done.
He couldn't see her; not properly, not when his vision was obfuscated by the flood of tears taking over his eyes. Salty tears he had no control over, falling because of her, because she was gone.
Because she had left him all alone in an even more lonely world.
His spine bent forward and his forehead pressed against hers. Under any other circumstances, their energy flows would travel from one body to another, assuring them of their mutual existence.
But he could no longer be assured of that.
A desperate sob escaped his lips as he pulled her closer to him, bringing her face near to his hearts. Holding her ear closer to his heartbeats, longing that she could still hear them and her own heart would mimic their rhythm and start beating again.
She remained perfectly still, to his despair.
He closed his eyes tightly, in vain attempts of keeping his tears inside. He had to be brave, for her, even though it was just another word for being afraid. There was a halo hanging around him, and, if he concentrated enough, he could still hear her voice.
You are not forsaken.
Sprinkles of her soul breaking through the barrier between life and death. Traveling amongst the light of the stars until they reached him and taught him everything he still needed to learn.
There was so much he still had to learn from her.
With every simplistic unfortunate event that occurs during the course of your life, you will be changed.
The Doctor slithered one of his hands underneath her knees, the other strongly holding her by her back. Struggling with his own trembling limbs, he managed to get up, and her head accommodated itself against his shoulder. He tightened his grip around her, silently; he was no longer entitled of words.
Your view upon the world will be sadder and will be brighter and you will become more understanding of everything you can't control. You will learn to make your messes matter and make this chaos of your soul count.
His neck bowed back and he was welcomed by nightly sky. He couldn't tell whether the stars were darker because they were mourning for her, too, or if they were brighter because she was now there, too.
These events are not useless. They exist for a reason. Let every little fracture in you shatter out loud.
He wanted to scream, he desired to let the universe know that, when she died, he had died too. But he wouldn't – couldn't. Clara would never approve of his selfish behavior, not when she had taught him the courage of the stars before she left.
Taught him that light carried on endlessly, even after death.
The universe is not out to get you, just out to teach you.
His steps were slow and dragged towards the infirmary. Loads of alien eyes had fallen upon them from the distance, holding power over them, controlling every move they were still bound to make; respecting her for dying on him, judging him for not letting go of her.
By the time he reached a cozy bedroom, he was drained of all his energy and strength. He barely managed to lay her body on the mattress of the bed before falling – falling over, falling apart. He hid his face against her chest, her breasts refusing to gently rise and to gently fall. Begging for her to be brought back to him.
He just wished her voice would leave his head and leave him to mourn for her.
You will not be broken. You will grow stronger.
"Please… Come back to me… Please…" his pleads were cold and broken – just as cold and as broken as she had become the moment she died at the talons of the raven. "I love you. Please don't leave me."
Even though she had forbidden him of confessing his devotion for her, he had nothing left rather than his love for her.
For the memory of her.
Even though it was too late and she could no longer hear him.
Or could she?
Your soul might be heavy with grief, nonetheless you need to keep running. Accept death and face it directly. Strengthen yourself from the prospect of death and you'll save everyone else. Regardless if you couldn't save me.
He soon had no more tears to cry. He had cried them all. It required him all of his stamina, both physically and mentally, to uncling himself from her. He planted a warm wet kiss to her temples, wishing he could also plant the seed of life back into her being. Wishing that he could, somehow, replace his life for hers.
He ran the palm on his hands against each of his cheeks, freeing them of the wet path they once held. He stole one more glance of her. Her lips were half open, gradually allowing the reminiscent of her soul to escape her body; her hands were calmly resting against her belly; her eyelids were tenderly shut, her eyelashes softly caressing her own skin.
Clara Oswald looked peaceful, serene. Embracing the dreamless sleep of death.
And he smiled at that. He smiled at everything they had once been, feeling her one last time at the mercy of his fingertips, memorizing the sensation of her body against his. If only he were strong enough to match the quietude and the serenity of her face traits.
If only he were to able to lie next to her for the rest of his endless life, forgetting about the world until the world itself was forgotten of him.
Biting down harshly on his lip, too close to drawing blood, the Doctor turned his back on her, closing the door to her grave. Leaving not only her behind, but bits of his own self, too.
And one day, your time will come, and I'll be waiting for you. The light inside the universe of your eyes will burn out and your whole self, every little flaw and all of your perfections, will form the brightest dazzling star in the sky, which will light people all across time and space, as they read bedtimes stories to their children who cannot close their eyes without knowing you are looking after them.
Though it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows, a speck of your light can reignite the sun and swallow darkness whole.
A/N: Any feedback here or on twitter (dutiesofcare) is much appreciated :)