Hi everyone! My name Is MissFlutterPie, writing in the Doctor Who fandom for the first time!

I got the idea for this story after watching the last episode and I wondered, what now? What will our two protagonists do alone? Then I dreamt up this story and wrote it down!

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who! That will never happen, no matter how much I hope. I only own my OCs!

Also, England totally travelled with the Doctor, just throwing that out there.

This fic is rated M for the language in this one chapter which has two or three instances of mature language, contains depressed Clara and an OC playinga major role.

Clara had been visiting Danny's grave. It had become a ritual of hers; every Sunday, she would visit it and stay.

She stayed for hours, silently, curled up on the soil, eyes shut as tears ran down her face, immersed in every memory she had of him, from that first awkward meeting up until that call...

Until he died, taken by Missy, the Master, whatever that crazed Time Lord called herself.

Then, she thought, wishing the Doctor was still here, that she'd told him the truth, that Danny wasn't here, wasn't with her, she needed him.

Then, when she could bear to leave, she'd get up and walk to her car slowly, and get in, taking her time, and then she'd lean against her seat and cry openly. It didn't mater how long she took, she'd all but retreated into her shell, friends abandoned her, family stopped calling, all contact with civilisation dried up.

She'd tried throwing herself into her work, wide smile splitting her face, over-eager eyes, trying to hard to hide the emptiness, until she was told to take time off to recover. That one thing, the one activity she needed to keep herself and was gone, she'd slid further into the abyss.

Clara stood up, legs creaking as she dusted the dirt from her jeans. She wasn't alone, unusually, there was a figure next to the gate.

Hoping it wasn't someone she knew, Clara set off for the gate. As she did, the heavens opened up and cold water began trickling down her neck, making the woman shudder in cold. Wrping her arms around herself, she neatly berated herself for just wearing a purple t-shirt and no jackets, until she remembered she didn't care.

Hopefully, she caught a cold. Then, she'd have a proper excuse for ignoring her fathers calls, instead of fobbing him off with excuses of meeting a parent, going it with her friends, that ultimately felt empty.

Part of her wished she could move on like a normal fucking person, like everyone else and stop worrying everyone, but she was alone, because Danny was gone, and so was the Doctor.

When Clara met the Doctor, she'd had a crush on him, he was cute, energetic, puppy-like, with a wisdom that shone in his eyes. Then, he'd changed. He was older, and more mysterious, the moon, where before he was the sun.

That hadn't changed a thing.

She'd still loved him, but that crush paled in comparison to Danny, who she'd fell into, her heart and soul, and he hurt her when he left. She had been ripped apart when her died, and if she ever got her hands on that bitch...

But no, she couldn't muster the strength to feel angry. She had grown angry soon after he died, wanting to scream till her throat bled and choke on her blood, to rip the veil separating the living and the dead, him and her, apart, to scratch herself until her nails shattered, to hit and kick and scream, and that anger collapsed in on itself, taking her other emotions with her and leaving only a numbness. Numbness that made her shy from the world and hide away. Not the numb where she couldn't feel a thing, but where something vital was missing.

A Danny-shaped hole.

Her eyes were moist and she brought her hand up in time to catch a stray tear. How odd, she didn't normally cry until she was in her car.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was scratchy and hoarse, shaking Clara from her thoughts as she stared at the person asking in shock.

It was a girl, only around fourteen, huddled against the wall, pale and sickly, with big hazel eyes that seemed to pop out of her face and blue lips. She had long hair that was so dirty she didn't know what colour it was, and her skin was smudged with dirt.

She was huddled in a big brown jacket, that was tattered an covered in holes.

She was frail, sick.

And she reminded Clara of herself.

"I'm fine," Clara responded automatically, still staring. "Are you okay?"

The girl smiled weakly and coughed into her hand. She pressed it up against her mouth and coughed again, a sickening wet cough. Bringing her hand away, she wiped it against the jacket, staining it with blood. Clara watched in sickened fascination.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for my parents," the girl replied, smiling widely.

"H-how long have you been waiting?" she asked, so horrified that someone could be so ill and nobody had noticed, she wasn't aware that she had stopped crying and was talking without being reminded of Danny every second.

"Not long!" was the reply, to cheerful for the girls conditions. "We're going home!"

"I can give you a ride," Clara offered, unaware of what she was saying, she wanted to help this fucking girl, because she was alone and looked like she was dying, not because she kind of reminded her of Clara, looking so lost.

The girl lowered her lashes, glaring at Clara suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, tension layered over her word.

Clara paused to consider for a second, wondering why this homeless vagrant was effecting her so bad. It had gone beyond pity, pity was giving her money. This was something else, but what?

"Because you look lonely," she eventually told her, hoping you sound convincing. "I understand that feeling."

The girl closed her eyes and tilted her head to face the sky, letting the rain fall on her, and disguising her tears for a second.

"N-no," she responded, sounding unsure. A tooth worried at her lip for a second, until she responded in a firm voice. "I have to wait here."

Clara sat down in front of her and touched her hand. It was so cold, like ice rather than flesh.

"How long have you been waiting?" she repeated.

"I... I... I... I don't have parents," she eventually whispered in a voice that reminded her of dead leaves. "Happy? I'm going to sit here and die, okay?!"

A tear fell from her eye and she turned her head to the side, wiping it away with a dirty hand.

"Your alone," Clara said, her gaze softening. "Why don't you come back with me?"

Inwardly a part of her screamed, what are you doing?! but she pressed on, determined to help this lonely orphaned soul.

"Why? Why would you want me in you car? I'd just make it dirty!" she exploded suddenly, putting her face in her hands and sobbing. "You should just go!" Clara started at the venom in her voice. "I'm worthless," was whispered.

"No."

She looked up at Clara, who was angry.

"You are not worthless. Now, you stand up and get in my car, okay? I'm taking you to my house, and your getting dinner, and you'll eat it, and you can sleep on the sofa, okay?"

The girl blinked and scrambled to her feet, confusion m her face.

Clara could see her better now and was shocked at how skinny she was. She wore a black vest with grey leggings, both torn and dirty, hanging off her, and no shoes.

Clara grabbed her wrist firmly and took her to the car.

The girl went with no resistance, staying quiet until Clara had started the engine.

"Uh, my name is Mimi," she said in an awkward voice. "What's yours?"

Clara smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm Clara Oswald."

Thanks, I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to read and review and favourite!

Like seriously, if you read this please review. I'm having a problem on some of my other stories where people don't review. It takes literally five seconds, so... Review!