Hope in Dreams

Clara awoke screaming, tangled up in bedsheets. As soon as she realized she was back in reality, she lay back and covered her face with her hands, whispering to herself, "It's not real, it's not real."

The dream began like her typical nightmares: with Danny Pink dying. Danny murdered by some savage alien race, Danny swallowed up by a black hole, the cruel reality that had been Danny upgraded as a Cyberman, and worst of all, Danny hit by that vehicle in his jarringly insignificant demise.

But then, instead of simply watching him die, Clara came into the picture. It was a warped memory of being trapped inside that cold, hard, metal shell. She was a Dalek, malicious and filled with hate, about to kill the man she loved.

This dream had no real effect on her. She had lived this in her sleep so many times, she had sort of gotten used to it.

Then all of a sudden, the scene shifted. Whereas before, Clara was in a square white room, she was now in a long hallway, the walls painted charcoal grey. There were no doors or outlets that she could see, and the corridor seemed to stretch on forever. Clara, both in the dream and in reality, only began to panic when she realized that it was no long Danny that stood before her, but the Doctor.

"No! No, no, no, NO!" Clara screamed.

"Clara, it's okay," the Doctor said frantically. "Just keep calm."

"No! I can't do this to you!"

"But you will. And it's okay."

She was sobbing now. "Just run, Doctor!"

"I can't." He raised his arms palms up around the middle of his torso. "Nowhere to go."

"Ex—ex—'' Tears streamed down her face as she tried to fight the word escaping her.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

And that's when she woke up.

xxXxx

The Doctor burst through her TARDIS bedroom door. "Clara! Clara, are you alright?"

She looked up at him. He was in regular day clothes, not pyjamas, so at least she hadn't woken him with her screams. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just nightmares."

"Oh." The Doctor slowly made his way closer, then sat on the edge of the bed. Clara scooted next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Was it P.E.?" he asked.

Clara hesitated for a second, then said, "Yeah. Danny, yes. It was Danny."

"Do you…maybe want to talk about it? Sometimes helps."

"No. No, I'm fine."

"Okay. Well, if you're fine." The Doctor leapt up, heading for the door. "You'd better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. Though, isn't it always?"

When his hand touched the doorknob, tears flooded Clara's eyes. "Doctor."

The terrified tone of her voice made him freeze.

"Please don't leave me."

Confused, and a little bit scared, he said, "What do you mean? You know I wouldn't leave you. I have to have a companion, don't I?"

"No, I mean…stay with me. Tonight." Seeing the alarmed look on his face, she continued, "It's just, I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep without…someone, and I don't want the bad dreams to come back, and—''

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Clara sighed. "Thank you."

She smiled for the first time that night, and his hearts warmed.

The Doctor took off his black, red-on-the-inside jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. He and Clara both got under the covers, facing each other.

"Do you ever have nightmares?" Clara whispered.

"You know I don't need as much sleep as you humans," his rough Scottish voice said quietly—he wasn't very good at whispering.

"But you do, don't you? When you do sleep."

The Doctor sighed, not quite wanting to talk about this. "Yes, Clara. All the time."

"But there are good dreams, yeah? It's not all death and darkness."

He wanted to give her a typical Doctor response: that everything dies, and eventually, yes, it all ends in darkness. But he knew Clara needed reassurance. Needed hope.

"Bad things happen. Every moment, in every place, every time, bad things happen. But…there's always hope, Clara. Especially in dreams. You just have to look for it."

Clara closed her eyes and snuggled in to him. "Thanks, Doctor," she whispered.

He tentatively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him.

The Doctor ran a hand through her hair and said, "Goodnight, Clara."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

Just before Clara succumbed to sleep, she place a kiss on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. She would never lose him, no matter what her nightmares said. She would never let him go.