He was killing her.

A quick pop off to Obsidian 5, a week at the Porperellian Underworld, a tramp through the petrified forests of Nesbarri, Clara had made her choice but she never realized the consequence.

October 12th 2014

The doctor dropped her off in front of her flat at six o'clock Sunday evening. She still had enough time to run to the market, cook dinner, mark a few lingering papers and make it to bed at a decent hour before having to get up for classes in the morning. Running with the Doctor always left her invigorated. She could do it all, and she did…until she collapsed in her classroom nearly two weeks later.

Clara came too in the hospital with Danny by her side.

"Danny? What am I doing here?"

"You passed out at school."

"What…when?"

"About five hours ago."

Still confused, she looked at the I.V. in her arm. "What's this for?"

"They won't tell me," he patted her hand and stood up. "Let me see if I can get your Doctor or a nurse, maybe they can tell you."

He left the room and Clara could do nothing but worry. Other than and occasional cold, she'd never been ill, especially not ill enough to wind up in the hospital. Had she picked up some exotic bug on one of her trips with the Doctor? She'd always felt safe. Why had she never asked if that was a possible danger? What could be wrong with her?

She didn't have long to worry. Danny returned with a doctor.

"Miss Oswald…I'm Doctor Khurshid. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine."

"The fluids we are giving you must be helping."

"Helping with what?"

"According to you test results Miss Oswald, you're suffering from dehydration, anemia and possible exhaustion."

"Is that all!" She was relieved.

"It's nothing to scoff at; why do you think you wound up here?"

"Hmm."

"Anyway, those three issues along with your low hormone levels sent you crashing. You need to stay properly hydrated, get plenty of rest and take an Iron supplement."

"Low hormones?" Why are they low?"

"That's nothing to worry about; a woman's hormones always drop off in her pre menopausal years."

"Pre what!"

"Pre-menopausal. Like I said nothing to worry about."

"I can't be pre-menopausal, I'm barley thirty!"

The Doctor looked at her chart again. "Hmm…interesting."

"What?"

"Most women don't exhibit these levels till their mid to late thirties. We might need to do some further tests."

"Can we do them later? I just want to go home. If it's possible?" She looked earnestly at the Doctor.

"As soon as that last bag of fluids is in you I'll arrange for the nurse to discharge you, but I need you to make a follow up appointment."

She gave a terse reply. "Fine."

"Don't worry Doctor," Danny piped up, "I'll make sure she does."

Four days later Clara found herself back in the Tardis. The Doctor was busy chattering on about the latest planet they were going to visit, but she was barley listening. She had too much on her mind.

"Clara? Clara?" The Doctor's voice was louder now. "Are you listening? Where are you?"

Clara had made her way to the upper walkway and ensconced herself in his wingback chair. "Blahddy blah blah, whatever," she mumbled more to herself than to him. He of course, still heard her. She heard him coming up the steps.

"You know if you don't want to be here I can certainly take you back home."

He had stopped at the last step with his hands on the railings, waiting intently for her reply.

"How long have I been here Doctor?"

"That would be hard to say precisely, seeing as I don't wear a timepiece and I'm not in the habit of checking the Tardis chronometer every time you enter, my best estimation would have to be, hmmm…about twelve minutes. Give or take about twenty seven seconds."

Clara sighed. "No, Doctor. That's not what I mean."

"But it's what you asked."

"What I want to know..., or rather what I need to know is… how long have I been traveling with you?"

"Ah, that." He turned away and made his way back to the console.

Clara jumped up from the seat and followed him down.

"What do you mean? Ah, that."

He fiddled with some superfluous knobs and buttons, all the while moving away from her. When she stopped, he stopped…safely opposite her. He remained quiet and avoided eye contact.

"Doctor. How long?"

"Well that all depends on whose time measurements one uses. There's standard earth time, there's Intergalactic Quadrant Time, E-Space Time, Gallifreyan time…"

""Doctor!"

"Yes?" He met her earnest gaze.

"Earth time, please!"

"My guess wouldn't be very accurate considering…"

"Considering what?"

"How often you come and go."

"You won't even hazard guess?" His hesitance to answer was making her worried.

"No." His gaze was intense and his answer seemed firm.

"But…," he fiddled with some more instruments on the console as an idea struck him. "I could locate the biodynamic readings the Tardis keeps on all its occupants, separate out yours...extrapolate the Tardis chronological readings versus the earth solar day and…"

The Tardis made an odd sound and then.

"Voile" He smiled as the reading appeared up on his moveable screen.

"Oh dear."

"What?"

"We have been busy."

"Doctor, what's it say?"

Clara slowly walked towards the screen he was holding. Not knowing if she wanted to see. But she had to know. She tugged on the opposite handle and pulled it from him.

"Don't," he asked of her before she looked. "It's just a silly number." He waved his hands frivolously. "It doesn't mean anything."

She looked. It read 7 years, 42 days, 8 hours, and 55 seconds.

Tears welled up. "It means a hell of a lot to me, Doctor." She leaned on her elbows against the console, her head in her hands.

The Doctor tried to perk her up. "Most women worry about their looks being the first to go Clara, but we can pop over to Belarius 7. They have a first class genetics spa, perk you right up in no time." His smile didn't help either.

"I can't do that."

"Why not, you humans have been doing it since plastic surgery was invented back in the 20th century."

A realization came over her. She met his stare with one of such intensity he found himself having to look away.

"This really is the end."

He looked back. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I have a life to live, a man to love and a family I'm supposed to raise, and I can't start doing that when I'm ninety six. I'm not a Time Lord. I have to start now, before it's too late."

He turned away. He had too. Something was wrong with this last regeneration. He found himself constantly struggling to deal with his emotions. Anger came easily enough, but sorrow, happiness, fear and love…they didn't seem to make sense anymore, especially not where Clara was concerned. He had to set his face right before turning back around.

"Ok…uh, well then…shall I take you home?"

A sad "Yes", escaped her lips.

With a single flip of a switch, and a few groans from the Tardis, he returned them to her bedroom.

She exited and looked back at him standing in the doorway. That man, that impossible man! She couldn't help it, she had to hug him one last time.

The Doctor stood there paralyzed. He wanted to hug her back, but his arms wouldn't function. He wanted to kiss the top of her head, to tell her he'd miss her and that he'd stop by for dinner sometime. But he could only think it; his mouth wouldn't let him say it. Why didn't he work anymore? Clara could feel his body start to shake with its inner turmoil and she knew it was time to let go.

"Goodbye Doctor." She wiped a loose tear.

He gave his best strained smile. "Bye Bye."

He closed the Tardis doors and leaned heavily against them. Alone once again, he put his hands to his chest in a futile attempt to keep both his hearts from aching.