(Welcome! This is numero uno of my 12 & Clara collection, so be warned, this is kind of a ship-fic, but it's also pretty angsty. It's inspired by the song I Need A Doctor by Dr. Dre ft. Eminem & Skylar Grey. Don't listen to the non-clean version, it's really not a nice song, but it gave me an idea.
And that idea was, what happens when Clara becomes too dependant on the Doctor to be who he used to be and to save everyone and help her and it gets to the point where the Doctor is just sick of being depended on and tired of saving the world and he just leaves?
This will be exploring his darker side and a bit of Clara's darker side, cause I think every character has one, they've got to. We'll see some familiar faces here and some new ones. Like the Andolarian's, and yes, they're very much so inspired by the Mandalorian's.

You Will Surrender

The message blinked on the screen, like a painful reminder of the situation. Two Andolarian s stood in the center of the TARDIS, a gun pressed to Clara s head as she fumbled with the controls, attempting to pretend like she knew what she was doing. She twiddled on dial, flipped a switch and typed furiously on the keys under the screen. Her feet shuffled back and forth as her hands flew across the console as she d seen the Doctor do many times.

Where is the captain of this vessel? barked the tall Andolarian with the green armor. The Andolarian s were scaled creatures that were a bit humanoid, but their eyes were just black holes, light didn t even reflect off of them. They wore tight body armor with a helmet that covered their entire face, but left their chin and neck - which dipped down a bit onto their chest - exposed.

Clara swallowed hard, fighting her tears. Please, he left. He s gone, I don t know where, her breath came out in ragged gasps. Her bright eyes shifted over to focus on the door of the TARDIS which was still open a crack. There was a light shining through it, and behind that light was darkness, so much unfathomable darkness that swallowed the colors that used to be there.

"Clara?"

She blinked once, the crack disappearing and reappearing, a part of her hoping that it wouldn't have reappeared.

"Clara?"

"What?"

"Look," he pointed to the sea of red. "Out there, it s a whole world, a brand new one. Untouched by the diseases of humanity and the stink of the flesh of the dead, of all those people that have been slaughtered over the centuries. It's shining, shimmering, splen-"

"Stop, really. That s from Aladdin and we both know it," she laughed and playfully nudged her shoulder against him, it only came to just above his elbow. She gave him a small smirk, holding his gaze for a long three seconds.

He chuckled slightly and looked back at the planet that they were orbiting around. It was a bit small, but the entire thing was red, due to the phosphorous atmosphere. It steamed and the scarlet clouds rolled and coiled around each other in a whirl of color, hints of white seeping into the red.

Clara took a step closer to the door, trying to make her numb feet move faster. She'd never been exemplary with heights, but she wouldn't admit it for the life of her. Her hand reached out and grasped the door and she brought herself just a little bit closer, her hips eventually leaning against the doorframe for stability.

"That's life out there Clara. Real, normal life. It doesn't seem like it, but there's a whole culture that doesn t even know Earth exists, don't know about humans. They're stuck in Stone Age technology and they don t know anything more advanced than that exists. They've been stuck at that point for three thousand years," the Doctor explained.

She let out a laugh, looking up at him with adoring eyes. "That's amazing."

He nodded, slightly, looking back down at her. With a hesitant breath, he took a step forwards and leaned in some.

"No, listen to me. He's gone, probably dead!" Clara shouted as the guns started to power up with a whir. Her hands lifted in to air in a defensive stance, her eyes pleaded with the Andolarian's as the short one stepped forwards with a snarl. His eyes screamed murder, and hers begged for mercy.

Her eyes slowly closed, her heart dropping to her stomach. She suddenly found herself nervous, she felt like she was going to vomit. That wouldn't be attractive, she decided. She leaned forwards, finding herself suddenly on her tiptoes.

The Doctor took another breath before pulling back, spinning on his heel and heading up back towards the console. "So, now that you've seen Andolar from afar, do you want to see it up close?"

She looked after him as he walked away and she started chewing her lip, a nervous habit that started when she was about twelve and she'd spilt hot soup all over the pastor that her aunt was dating. It wasn't an accident, but she never told.

"Commander, I think she's telling the truth," said the tall one, looking down at the short one as it approached Clara, gun raised and ready to fire. She closed her eyes, praying to the only Lord that she believed in and even then, her faith in him was scarce.

Doctor. Save me. Please.

The short commander snarled something in Andolarian, his eyes - visible through his pale visor - flashed with violent anger and he jabbed his gun at Clara again. The tall one looked between them helplessly, before glancing back at the Andolarian corpse lying on the other side of the TARDIS control room.

You're the Doctor, you're not my Doctor anymore, but you're still the Doctor and the Doctor would never leave someone to die like this, would he? I know you haven't forgotten me. Now save me, Eyebrows.

A hand closed around her shoulder. Excitement burrowed in her chest and her eyes flew open. She hoped to see the Doctor there, with his smirk and his attack eyebrows. Ready to save her, ready to run off and see the rest of the universe, ready to accept her love and maybe even return it.

But she saw none of this, she saw the tall Andolarian standing in front of her. He pushed hard down on her shoulder, forcing her to her knees. She gasped as her knees slammed into the cold floor, pain striking her shins and shooting up her thighs.

The cold gun barrel was pressed to the back of her neck and she grunted slightly as it pushed against her necklace, which cut into her skin.

She moved to stand in front of him. "How many girlfriends have you had? Any since you've had this face?" she asked, reaching out and gently brushing a finger against his chin.

He gave her a look and stepped back some. "So, how's Danny Boy? I'm assuming you're attempting to wheedle some relationship advice out of me?" he raised his eyebrows at her, the silver contrasting against his pale Scotsman skin.

She sighed. "I'm not trying to get anything from you," she stepped forwards. Her eyes were rested on his lips for a second, before drifting up to look him in the eye. Her feet moved her closer to him and her hand reached out to casually play with his coat collar.

"Don't flirt with me," he brushed her away, his hollow pain creeping into his annoyance.

"I'm just curious," she laughed some. "Seriously though, have you been dating while I'm at work?" she waggled her thin eyebrows with a wicked grin.

He groaned slightly as she started singing an old love song and dancing a bit, nudging him with her elbow. "No, of course not. I am married-ish," he looked down at the console and then at her. "Well...I'm a widower anyways."

Clara reached out and grasped his elbow with her right hand, giving it a squeeze.

"You will pay for your sins against Andora," one of them sneered, she couldn't see which.

Her eyes raise from the ground to the door, she peered through the crack, through the light to space. She looked to where Andora used to be, where a black hole now sat, empty and daunting in amongst the stars.

Tears sprang to her soft eyes as she remembered the count the Doctor had given her. "30,000," she muttered, thinking of the men, women and children that occupied that planet. The thousands of innocents, the guilty, she didn t care what they did, they didn t deserve to be absorbed in a black hole that the Doctor was responsible for.

She suddenly became very conscious of the hand that was still grasping his coat collar. Her eyes met his and she resisted a blush as she realized how intently he was gazing at her.

He bent his head and pressed his lips to her temple, before turning back to his console, suddenly very set on playing with a dial that resided right next to his hand.

The Andorian lifted his gun, ready to fire a bullet into her skull.

The door of the TARDIS swung open, light flooded the control room, but a figure moved in front of it, cutting it off. "Did somebody call for a Doctor?" the Scottish brogue rolled around the room with hints of a menacing tone as the Timelord surveyed the situation.

Clara couldn't help but grin. He was such an idiot, but he was her idiot. He just didn't know it yet.