*v*
The Doctor can do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of him, Clara's distraught face, the smug face of their only enemy in the room reaching out to grab her - within seconds, in the blink of an eye, Clara was gone. All The Doctor could do was stand and watch, withheld by the protruding hands of two mechanical shells. If he had moved forward to try and help, he would have been executed, instead. (Not to say he still wouldn't be). Selfish as he was, this did not encumber his regret. When Clara had faded from the room, and his time, he let out a cry, falling to his knees, once the Cybermen's grip had loosened.
What could he have done? The Doctor had no other choice. His experiment went wrong. This was another day - another loss, another surge of sadness. Today, The Doctor suffered a familiar, great loss.
(Earlier that day):
"Clara! Clara.." Sung The Doctor, sprinting in through her front door, eager as ever to pick her up and show her something new, something amazing. He paused, a little confused. "Clara?" He wandered into the kitchen, through to the living room, but she wasn't in either of them. "Clara!"
Upstairs, Clara was still in bed. She'd been hit by a bit of the cold. It was nothing serious, and not infectious, but it brought her down. She didn't get ill a lot, so when she did, she took sympathy from whoever she could get it from. She was awoken by the sound of The Doctor's voice, and rolled her eyes, pushing herself to sit up on the bed.
"Up here, Doctor," she shouted in return, her voice coarse.
The Doctor ran up the stairs to see her, and noticed her voice was a little croaky. Perhaps she was suffering from a sore throat. Hopefully nothing that would see her not come with him. He peeked around the door to her bedroom, a little concerned. "Clara?" He waited until she nodded to walk in. The Doctor sat at the end of her bed, not sure where to look. "You don't sound very well."
"Because I'm not," Clara pulled a pillow up to lean against the headboard of her bed. "I'm ill. Thanks for noticing."
"Ohh," The Doctor nodded in understanding, drumming his fingers on his knees. "So..? Cold? Flu? Anything I can help with?"
"Don't even think about it." Clara glared, pulling her blankets closer to her, gathering all the warmth she could. "Doctor, I have no intention of going out today. Or tomorrow. I don't know when I'm going to be well enough. Not this Wednesday."
The Doctor's face fell in disappointment. He'd been looking forward to showing her his new invention. He was quite proud! He'd come up with it himself, and it'd taken such a long time - no. She was ill, and The Doctor understood that. With a fake smile on his face, he got up from the edge of her bed, pointing back to the door.
"I'll just be off, then," he nodded, looking down at his boots. Clara didn't like the lack of empathy she was receiving.
"No, you idiot," she threw her blankets to the side, rolling out of bed. "To any human. You're an exception," how could she ignore the puppy eyes he pulled on her? Granted, she could pull them back on him (and probably get a better reaction), but she'd rather not. She felt lousy and, what better than an adventure to make herself feel better. "What have you got to show me?"
The Doctor leads Clara into the TARDIS (after she had to tell him to go wait inside. He didn't know she wanted to get changed in private), hands flailing in pride as he told her about his latest invention. Clara still sees him as a mad scientist, what he does just proves her case. He'll always argue that she says that as if it's a bad thing, she'll roll her eyes and say she wouldn't love him if he wasn't.
"It's great! It's like a, a.." he struggles to find the words, his brain working at a hundred miles a minute, "..a manipulation device! That doesn't rip any holes in the fabric of space or time! Don't you think that's great? It's a technological breakthrough!"
Clara simply nods. She isn't keeping up, but tries her best to look interested. "Mhm."
"I can give one to River, and - and Jack! If he's still around, I'll have to catch him sometime," The Doctor glanced back at Clara, who sighed at the mention of his wife, but he didn't say anything. He noticed. "It's better than creating holes. What if they caused a rip, and some handsome, tall stranger who travels through space's ship got ripped apart? With them inside it? That would be terrible, now, their ship might be built to withstand such a hole, but a vast majority of them do not!"
Clara listened to his rambles all the way to the testing facility, giving the occasional nod and zoning out a few times, to which The Doctor snapped in front of her face, bringing her back to reality. The Doctor opened the door to the testing facility, mentioning to Clara that it was past the testing phase but he didn't have the time to move it out of there yet, to reveal a small, wrist device. It looked just like a vortex manipulator, like the one Clara used before, but it was different. The Doctor grinned, and did the honours of gently shoving her into the room, shutting the door behind them.
He ran right up to the little display case, revealing another manipulator. He took the device out of the case (just one), strapping it around his own. What The Doctor said next worried Clara. Slightly.
"I haven't had a chance to see where it takes us, yet," he smiled over at Clara, who was busy trying to unblock her ears. "Which is why you're here! You get the honours of testing it with me."
Clara heard that last part, and her eyes widened with concern, "Doctor.." she cautiously approached him, eyeing the device, "Are you sure about this?"
"Of course I'm sure! I built it," that didn't make Clara feel any safer about doing this.
Before she could protest, The Doctor had strapped the other device around Clara's wrist, setting up the co-ordinates and copying them to his own. The device was an upgraded vortex manipulator, with less destruction. Which meant, if it worked like The Doctor intended it to, it would be cost-effective to the universe. Think global warming, but in space, by tiny remotes. He gave Clara a reassuring grin, then pressed a little button on the edge of his manipulator, taking a tight grip of Clara's other hand.
The next time Clara opened her eyes, she was in some sort of grey-room. Metal? Metal. She looked around and, from the travel, was dis-orientated for just a second. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw The Doctor, which made her feel a little more comfortable in the unknown.
"Don't worry about it. Post-travel amnesia, it'll wear off in a second," The Doctor waved his sonic at her. He was trying to get the metal door looking panels at the side open. It didn't seem to be working. He stuck his ear to the panel, trying to listen, to see if anything was out there. There was the sound of faint footsteps, but nothing else apart from that. He banged on the panel with his free hand, making Clara jump. "Hello?!"
"Doctor!" Clara yelled at him, holding a hand to her chest, following him over to the panel. Her head was fuzzy, and her hearing was still messed up from the cold. "Don't give me a fright while we're somewhere - god knows where with god knows who on board!"
The Doctor gave her an apologetic look, and shrugged. He didn't know what else to do. He kept his ear up against the panel, listening out for the footsteps. When he heard them, they sounded like they were on the other side. Directly on the other side. Impossible! The Doctor swept himself and Clara away from the panel with his arm, until they were close to the other side of the room. She was going to say something, but he held a finger up to his lips.
The panel began activating, letting out a screeching sound of the metal unlocking from the door frame. He peered around to see what was behind it quicker than the door was opening, but regretted it the moment he saw the metal figure. It couldn't be.
There stood a Cyberman.
Clara panicked, "Doctor, what is that? What do we do? What is it?"
He swallowed, eyes darting from the Cyberman to Clara. Something was lurking behind the Cyberman. Every time it took a step forward, it powered off. This confused not only the Cyberman, but also The Doctor. "Clara.. There's something else here," apart from the emotionally-ripped body shell made of metal, Clara didn't think there could be much else. "Unless this one's malfunctioning."
The Doctor and Clara, moments after the Cybermen had finally caught up to them (from fleeing the entry deck), were now stood in the legion's office, the threat of deletion imminent, the Cybermen's hands gripped both one of their arms and one shoulder. They were still acting odd - as if they weren't charged right, if their battery was running low. They didn't run on battery, though, that was the worrying thing. They shouldn't be malfunctioning (as thankful as The Doctor was, that didn't cancel out the danger of something worse lurking close behind).
"The Doctor and his companion have been captured," the Cyberman pointed out to the Cyber-leader (as far as he'd guessed. He looked important). "They will be deleted."
Clara looked up at The Doctor, raised eyebrows. "Oh, no, no we won't," Clara gritted her teeth, kicking The Doctor in the knee, grabbing his attention. It knocked him from his thoughts - he hadn't heard what the Cyberman had said, but he could guess.
"No! We won't.. go silently.." The Doctor was dazed, not sure what Clara wanted him to say. "We're important to you."
The Cyberman replied, "You are not of importance. The Doctor and his companion are not required."
"Oh, but we are," The Doctor tried to turn to see the Cyberman, but the grip on his shoulder stopped any attempt of that. "You've been breached. This ship, this fleet is in danger. We can help you." Clara was just as confused as The Doctor, now. She looked up at him. He explained, "Whatever it is. We need to source where the problem is coming from. Check yourselves! You're all running on power-saving mode or something! Low-energy Cybermen, that's new to me. It should be new to you, too. Go on."
The Cybermen did just that, and loosened their grip on Clara's shoulder, pushing her towards the legion's leader.
"The Doctor's companion is useful. The Doctor will attract the intruder."
A few (what felt like) hours later, they had managed to track down the "intruder". The Doctor was very, very upset to find out who the intruder was.
A Weeping Angel.
As soon as he saw it, all hope was flushed from his face. He went as white as a sheet, and Clara got concerned, but the Cyberman held him up and kept Clara from approaching him. It didn't stop their communication.
"Doctor.." Clara started, very aware of the fact he wasn't blinking. She began to do the same. Maybe it was instinct. She wasn't looking at the Angel, but he was staring. "What is it?" The Angel hit him like a brick from a stone wall. It had been a while since he'd lost the Ponds, but the loss still lingered inside. "What does it do?"
He tried to keep it short and sweet. The Doctor was also very aware that Clara was not protected by any Cybermen. They were almost coercing the Angel into taking her. He couldn't go through that again.
"Clara, come here," she didn't move. She was almost frozen to the spot. He guessed it was fear that, maybe statues have heat sensors. "Please. Don't go near it." Stupid advice. Clara already knew better than to approach something The /Doctor/ was scared of. "If you can't.." at that point, a Cyberman began moving towards Clara, he was suddenly panicked, and restrained by another Cyberman. Clara stared up at the Cyberman, shaking her head, but had no choice than to back up. She was moving close to the Angel, but The Doctor kept watch of it. All he could do was watch, out of the corner of his eye. "Clara, please!" He wished she'd thought of moving around the Cyberman.
There was no other choice. They were both cornered by Cybermen. The Cybermen knew they had an intruder on board - and Clara, The Doctor's companion had proved to them that she was useful. Not in the way The Doctor had initially thought.
The Doctor couldn't do anything. He was hopeless. For once, the old, optimistic young-faced traveller was hopeless. Optimism was his one upside. It came with many consequences. Hope for the best and, the majority of the time, it will happen. Lose the hope for a second, and.. well.
Clara was gone.