Her Doctor was waiting for her inside the TARDIS, behind the console with that childish, goofy grin on his face.

Clara exhaled as she leaned backwards, closing the doors behind her. The noise of battle had disappeared minutes ago and the sounds of the ravaged town of Christmas clearing up the aftermath vanished with the closing of the doors. The familiar humming and beeping of the TARDIS and the general quiet of the room signalled that everything was okay again. Another world saved. Another future changed. Another day in the TARDIS.

But it nearly hadn't been. It had nearly come to an end in more ways than one. That thought haunted Clara as she caught her breath.

"Ready to go?" the Doctor called over from the console and Clara refocused her attention on the wacky Time Lord hurrying around the console panels. "That worked out rather well. I've got a new regeneration cycle and I've had this face reset. Not getting rid of this face for a while. Great, eh, Clara? You're stuck with me!" He grinned as he moved around like a jumping jack, touching controls and panels. Clara just watched him for a moment.

Out of nowhere came the impulse to punch him. But Clara held herself back. She forced it with all of her willpower but it still lingered there, slowly channeling energy and strength into her right fist. Go on, you know you want to. He deserves it. But still Clara held herself back. What would be the point? Logic reasoned over her anger and the impulse began to die away. Clara stepped away from the door and walked up to the centre of the TARDIS. The Doctor was pressing buttons and pulling switches. She'd long since stopped trying to figure out how he flew the thing and it wasn't a priority right now.

"I'm- I'm going to my room," she said quietly. She walked around the console, away from the Doctor and down the nearest stairs, the ones she knew led to her room.

"Clara?" the Doctor called after her.

"I'm tired," she called back. That wasn't a lie, not really. The back and forth between Earth and Trenzalone, the exchanges with the church and the Daleks and the emotional upheaval of the day. It wore her down. Maybe she would feel better after she slept. Except her mind was so alert, so bent on focusing on the day that she doubted she would be able to sleep.

Through the doors, turn left, down two more corridors and then third door on the right. Clara stepped into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Her room was pretty simple and kind of futuristic looking. The walls were royal blue with silver skirting boards. The furniture was classic wood furnished only painted silver. She had an armoire, a four poster bed, a desk and a window looking out into the time vortex. Clara walked towards her bed and sat down facing the window, staring off into space as she did. Back home it was still Christmas, she thought. Her family were waiting for her to explain why she'd dashed out so suddenly. Clara felt a headache coming on. She couldn't think of that right now. Not without thinking about the Doctor sending her back there not once, but twice. Breaking her trust, her plea for him not to trick her into going home again. He'd done it and it hurt even if it was for a good cause. It didn't take away Clara's fear of losing her daft, sexy, hilarious Doctor. All it had done was make her feel helpless.

He was facing death and he'd still thought about keeping her safe. He'd chosen to give in and die but to keep her safe. Clara rested her elbows on her knees and held her face in her hands. Tears began to trickle down her face. It was stupid, really, she reasoned. The Doctor had done a kind thing, putting her safety first. It had come from a good place. She shouldn't be mad at him for caring about her safety. But she was. She was hurt that he had betrayed her, that he had lied to her. That he had chosen to die on his own in that bell tower. Even when she'd come back to him, he'd made her stay indoors. She'd had to take her chance with those Time Lords to save the Doctor's life. How stupid was that?

But her tears kept falling down her face. She had nearly lost him today and it didn't matter that it worked out fine, that the Doctor had a new regeneration cycle. She had nearly lost him and he had chosen to break her trust. Those were the only two points of the day that she could concentrate on right now. As the tears left tracks down her face, Clara began to sob. She couldn't have a day like this again. She couldn't go through it. She wasn't strong enough. No one was.

In the privacy of her room, she let herself cry.

Some time later, she heard a light knocking on the door.

"Clara?" the Doctor's voice was quieter and more cautious than she was used to. Clara hurriedly wiped her eyes. "Clara, are you okay? I-I'm going to come in. I hope you're decent!" he called through. The absurdity of his concern struck Clara and brought a weak smile to her face. It quickly disappeared again under the weight of everything else.

"I'm decent," she called through, her sounding as strong as her smile.

The Doctor pushed open her door just as Clara was adusting herself on the bed to face the door. He'd donned his dark purple coat again and looked dressed like they were going out somewhere. It dawned on Clara that he probably thought it was business as usual. One death defying day done with, onto the next one. The thought caught her off guard and words died in her throat as she looked at him. She watched him close the door behind himself and turn to her. That daft grin on his face was still there. But it didn't meet his eyes and it began to disappear as he looked at her.

Clara looked away from him. If she was a cat, her hackles would have risen. She felt her defenses rising up immediately.

"Clara," the Doctor's voice was softer again. But she didn't look back at him. She realised how tiring it was trying to look into that face and pretend she was fine when she wasn't?

"Doctor," she managed to say without her voice doing an impression of jelly.

"Clara, what's wrong?" the Doctor hurried around the bed, moving in front of her. He bent down in front of her, trying to see into her face. Clara looked up at him with a sigh. He was really asking that, huh? God, he was clueless. She sniffed a little bit.

The Doctor's face was a canvas of concern now. "Clara." He reached for her hands, taking one of them and cupping it in both of his own. The gesture was sweet and yet intensified her annoyance with him at the same time. She pulled her hand away from him and looked lower down at the floor.

"Don't do that." She said so quietly that it was barely audible. "I'm too mad at you right now."

Long seconds of silence followed her words. After about sixty of them had passed, Clara looked up and wished that she hadn't. She saw green eyes in distress and confusion, slightly widened, under barely visible furrowed brows and a chin that looked even more prominent now that the face was frowning. She sighed again, this time softer. A tear slid from the corner of her eye and she moved to catch it but the Doctor's hand was faster, cupping her cheek and brushing the tear away with his thumb.

"Oh Clara," he whispered. He quivered a little where he was hunched over, as if he couldn't decide if he was crouching or standing and then he sank to his knees in front of her, his hand still caressing her face. She looked down into his remorseful green eyes and this time she couldn't look away. "Clara, I'm sorry." The Doctor whispered to her. "I'm sorry." His other hand found her hands and covered them both. She didn't move them. "I just wanted you safe. That was the only thing I could do for you. I didn't want us both stuck there."

Another tear escaped and the Doctor brushed it away again. "I thought I couldn't control my destiny so why should I damn you along with me?"

"It was my choice, Doctor," Clara whispered. "You should have let me make it," she added. "Besides, even if I'd chosen to go home, I would have wanted to say goodbye."

"I'm no good with goodbyes," the Doctor's voice sounded croaky. "I hate endings. I didn't want to say goodbye to you."

"Yeah well I didn't want to be ditched back on Earth without warning," Clara said as more tears slid from both cheeks. "I'm sorry if that is selfish but we've been through too much for it to just end like that and… and…" she fought to regain control over her breathing and her emotions. "I wanted to be there for you. I didn't want you to die alone." She wiped at her eyes after freeing one of her hands. "And I know you still kept me safe even when I came back again but you didn't have to face it on your own."

"Clara," the Doctor breathed, a sad smile building up over his face as he spoke, "my impossible girl, always trying to save me. I'm always going to try and save you, Clara, to keep you safe. I'm not going to apologise for that," he told her gently.

"But you don't help yourself," Clara countered. "That's what gets to me. You didn't even think to ask the Time Lords for help, did you? Did that even occur to you?"

The Doctor's smile became warmer. "No. But you did, didn't you?" He reached up to cup both of her cheeks. "I should have known not to leave you alone with a crack in time and space," he mused and Clara smiled despite herself. "You saved me again, Clara and I don't know how I can ever repay that."

"I don't want you to repay it," Clara told him exasperatedly. "I just want you to try and save yourself every now and again. You've earned it." She looked into his eyes. "Because I don't ever want to go through that again, you waiting for your death like that. It was unbearable." She closed her eyes and her words finally failed her. She let out a choked kind of sob and suddenly she was being pressed against the Doctor. One hand held her back, the other stroked the back of her head. She felt his lips against her temple and she began to hug him back. The feeling mingled with an urge to hit his shoulder and tell him he couldn't get out of this with a hug.

But he could. He totally could, apparently.

His hand began to rub her back as she hugged him. She even felt him start to rock her and she had to admit, that felt nice.

"Clara I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm so sorry."

This time Clara didn't attempt to stop the flow of tears or speak. She just sat there holding onto her friend, this ridiculous, incredible, impossible man. Tears of frustration for what today had brought, tears of relief that it was over, tears of joy that he was safe and tears of pain for what had almost happened. As Clara clung to him, she thought about the people she had lost in her life; her mum, her grandad, her uncle Eric, her cousin Jodie and all the pets that she had loved. She couldn't bear it if the Doctor's name was ever added to that list. She knew that now, in her heart of hearts and it kept her holding tighter onto him until all the emotion poured out of her. Her muscles slackened and tiredness rolled over her in wave after wave. Clara's eyes began to close and her grip disappeared.

"Just go to sleep, Clara," the Doctor's voice was low and soothing and growing fainter and fainter until it disappeared entirely along with her consciousness.

Half an hour passed and the Doctor was still sitting on Clara's bed, watching her sleep where he'd lain her down. He couldn't bring himself to look away. His eyes chased every emotion that flickered across her face as she slept. He gently brushed his thumb across one of her hands.

How she still managed to surprise him, his impossible girl. She'd been taken back home twice and still been brought back to him. She'd clung to the TARDIS in her determination to come and see him again, to say goodbye and to try and save him. It reminded him painfully of Rose, the way she'd taken the Time Vortex into herself to save him from the Emperor of the Daleks and the invasion of the Game Station. Did he really inspire his companions to take crazy risks for him? It certainly seemed so. But there was Time Vortex crazy and then there was jumping into his time stream crazy. At least the impossible girl made a bit more sense now. At least that was what he had thought before Tranzalore happened.

He had been ready to accept his death, ready to say goodbye to this universe because it was "supposed" to happen. And yet there Clara had been saying, "No. No it doesn't have to happen." and getting the Time Lords to help him. The Doctor smiled to himself as he looked at the beautiful, fragile little human girl on the bed. No one said no to Clara, it seemed. And the Doctor was immeasurably proud of her for it. But today had taken its toll. He knew that now.

The Doctor wanted to take that pain, those tears away from her. But it was one of the things he could never do. Clara was a human. Her capacity for feeling things was intense, just like her lifespan. Humans burned brightly but briefly. The Doctor didn't want her to burn out. In fact, he didn't want her to go anywhere soon. He continued to stroke her hand.

What was it about humans that there was always someone who had to steal his hearts?

Clara's dreams were always strange in the TARDIS.

It was as if her mind had fully come to appreciate how vast the universe was and decided to give her imagination a workout. Her dreams tonight were all wrapped in a dark emerald smoke with stars glittering through it in one second and disappearing in the next. Shadows rushed through the smoke, moving around Clara just as the Doctor's incarnations had run all around her when she'd gone into his time stream. The sensation was no less creepy in her dreams. Voices, numerous and distorted carried through the endless space as Carla walked through it. Nothing became clear to her and all was vague and shapeless. It unsettled her.

Clara raised the torch in her hand and when she clicked it on, the figure of her mother appeared in front of her.

"Mum," she breathed, a massive smile on her face. Of course her mum would be here, Clara thought to herself, of course she would come to help, to comfort her. Clara broke into a run, running towards the shade of her mother. The form disintegrated into smoke as soon as Clara touched it. She felt the smoke wrap around her and then move away. She turned around and there her mother was again, standing just behind her. Heart still in her throat, Clara resisted from reaching out to her.

"Clara," her mother said. She opened her mouth to speak again and then her mother disappeared into dust. Clara looked around, awaiting her next sighting of her. But her mother did not appear. But another shape was moving out of the darkness towards her. It was shaped like a salt shaker and Clara's stomach flipped over.

Not again.

"Exterminate!"

There was a flash and the dream crumpled around Clara.

She woke up and her hands were covered in blood. She recoiled and stepped away from a line of corpses. Her mother's still, empty face stared up at her, next to her grandfather and all the people she had lost. Clara stepped away from them again but her legs felt like lead. When she looked down at herself, she saw thick black chains and balls attached to them. Clara wanted to roll her eyes and scold her subconscious for being so cliche. Surely it could do better than balls and chains?

But then the dream changed again.

She stood in the middle of the town called Christmas. Once more snow had covered it but the first thing Clara noticed was that the snow was untouched. It was as pure as the first blanket tended to be in winter. The town was also silent. No lights shone from the houses, no children played in the street. Silence had fallen.

Clara didn't move, afraid to turn, of what she might see. Instead she closed her eyes. Go away. She prayed hard. Leave me alone.

"Clara." The Doctor's voice was so clear, so close to her that she turned her head, a smile breaking across her face. He was here. Her Doctor.

But there was no one else around her.

"Doctor?" she called. "Are you invisible or something? Where are you?" Finally she stepped through the snow. Each step yielded strange smoke from the ground. It formed whisps of little shapes to the side of Clara. Shapes like top hats, feathers, pillows, bubbles, kettles, screwdrivers, books, a drainer, a broom, moons, dancing couples, a message reading No More, cucumbers, notepad and a quill. She stared around at them all before hearing the voice speak again.

"Look up, Clara."

She followed his instruction and jumped backwards.

His face was projected over the sky, the way Tasha Lem's had been. Clara shivered, forcing back the reminder of earlier that day. "What are you doing up there?" she demanded,

The massive face broke into a grin that was both reassuring and unflatteringly emphasised the chin. Clara had to try hard not to giggle a little. "Aren't you forgetting something, Clara?" the Doctor asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Or am I too important for you to care about anyone else?" he remarked.

Clara began to frown. "What are you talking about-?" Seconds later, she realised what he meant and a gigantic gong ran through the town. Clara felt herself being pulled back.

Carla sat up in bed, the truth dawning on her as the blue and silver hues of her bedroom came back into focus. The Doctor was gone and, according to her window, they were still in the Time Vortex. But unease had settled itself inside her chest and was burrowing downward towards her stomach. How could she have forgotten them in all this excitement?

Back on Earth, her family were still waiting for her to come back for the rest of Christmas.