A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fic, so don't be too harsh, but reviews would be lovely! Also, how lucky am I to come from the UK! Anyway, enough about me, enjoy.

BEWARE- SELF HARM
Disclaimer-If I owned Doctor Who The Doctor would of snogged Clara by now.

Chapter One: Clara Breaks Down.

Clara's POV

Clara's breath was ragged and sharp, quiet sobs leaking from her parted lips. Her eyes were bloodshot and glistened with tears, her cheeks stained with ones already shed. She hugged her knees and rocked gently, leaning back against the bath in her ensuite, when she spotted her razor on the edge of the sink. It took a split second before she was reaching up and grabbing it, twisting it menacingly in her hands.

She quickly dismantled it and held the cool metal of the blade against her warm skin, fresh tears flowing down the hot flesh of her cheeks, and she dragged the blade viciously, over and over again, deep cuts forming all the way up her arm. Her heart was pounding and her vision was blurring as crimson splattered the white tiles on the floor, contrasting the colours.

Her head span and she heard the clatter of the blade on the floor, but it sounded distant. The last she remembered when her head thudded against the cool tiles on the floor was that it was early Wednesday morning, before her vision faded into black.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The Doctors POV

The Doctor was in the console room, grinning to himself. "Clara today. Come on, old girl. You know where to go." he patted the console lovingly and pulled down the lever, clinging on for dear life. Suddenly the TARDIS made a groaning sound, and shuddered to a stop. "What is it? What's wrong?" He stroked the console in reassurance, confused. It was only Clara, what was wrong with that? The TARDIS groaned again and the doors swung open with a bang. A grin broke out on the Doctors face and he quickly straightened his bow tie and smoothed his hair before checking the date and time. A Wednesday, 3:17. 'Oh well, Clara can come early' he thought as he stepped out the TARDIS and went round collecting pebbles. He began to throw them at Clara's window, but after 20 minutes and getting no response his brow crinkled into a frown. 'She should of answered by now.'

He didn't want to wake the others up, so quietly soniced the door and crept up the stairs to Clara's bedroom. He paused outside it and knocked. "Clara?" he whispered. "Clara? I'm coming in." he opened the door slowly, but couldn't see her in her bed. He quickly shut the door behind him and looked around. "Clara? Clara, where are you?" He saw a door with a crack of light seeping through and decided to check there. He was half relieved and half worried when he found it wasn't locked. He pushed the door open and gasped, eyes widening. "Clara! No, no no no no no. Stay with me, Clara, stay with me." He had pulled her into his lap and was stroking the silky locks out of her face, inspecting her arms. "I'm going to need some bandages." he muttered to himself, taking his jacket off and laying it over Clara before frantically searching the cupboards. He found a first aid and practically ripped the front off in his haste to help Clara.

He dabbed at her cuts gently, clearing up the blood before slowly winding the bandage round her arm, stopping the bleeding. Once he'd finished he picked her up and carried her to bed, pulling off her blood soaked top with his eyes shut before slipping his jacket round her shoulders and covering her with a blanket. He went back and mopped the blood off the tiles and binned the razor blade, quickly returning to Clara's side. He pushed away her fringe from her burning forehead and laid a gentle kiss on the skin, lingering a little longer than usual before taking one of her hands in his. "Oh Clara. I promise, it'll be okay now."