A/N: So , this was something that crept into my mind when I realized that today was not only the anniversary of our beloved show, but also the birthday of one Clara Oswald. Danger: sadness ahead.
Clara Oswald rolled over as the alarm rang. This was it. The day of her 29th birthday. The last year of her twenties was upon her, and she had barely gotten out of bed ever since parting with the Doctor over a week ago. The world was moving on after the Cyberman invasion, so why couldn't she? Perhaps it was losing Danny, perhaps it was lying to the Doctor. Who knew? She sighed, wondering why she had even set an alarm for a Sunday morning. Then, she realized she hadn't. That was the doorbell to her flat. She quickly sprung out of bed, pulling a dressing-gown up over her pajamas. She ran to answer the door, a quick look through the peep-hole revealing that it wasn't the Doctor, like she'd thought. She opened the door to find a young messenger boy there, holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Um…I've got flowers for a Miss Clara Oswald?"
"Yeah, that's me, thanks." Clara said, taking the bouquet from the boy. Why would the Doctor bother to send her flowers? This was something that may have happened in his last regeneration, but this last personality was so much different from the last. He didn't have the thought or time for emotional trifles like this. No, this wasn't the Doctor, but who else could it be? She didn't really have many friends at work, besides…Danny. Clara took the card from the bouquet and read:
Clara-
Happy birthday! I hope you don't mind me sending these to you, cause I know if I'd given these to you at school, that disruptive influence Courtney would say something. I hope you don't mind if I've set these up about a week in advance. I suppose I'll see you later tonight! I hope that you know that I love you, and that I always will.
-Danny
Clara collapsed on her sofa, clutching the flowers and note. She was immediately brought back to the desolated graveyard where she clutched Danny's cold metal shell. Even then, there was warmth inside. Though that Missy had tried to take that away, she never could. She never would. As the Doctor had pointed out, love is a promise, and promises never die. Perhaps that was what made this so hard. Clara was sobbing so hard with her eyes closed that she never noticed the familiar blue box appearing in her living room. The door opened, and the Doctor saw his companion sobbing on her couch. He contemplated leaving her be. That seemed to be the rational thing after all, and with this new regeneration he had lost a lot of his ability to tell human emotions anyway. He began to turn back to the TARDIS, but was interrupted.
"Don't you dare." Clara said, rubbing her eyes and facing her friend head-on, "It's my birthday, you big dumb alien, and I want to see something awesome."
"Oh, don't give me that, Clara. I saw that. What's wrong? Where's ol' soldier boy?"
"He's…he's…"
"He didn't cross over, did he?" The Doctor said, "You lied to me."
"Yeah, I lied. But what was I supposed to do? You'd found Gallifrey again, and you seemed so happy…"
"You don't think that would have spoiled it, will you? I don't want you having to worry about my feelings, Clara. There's nothing that you could do that would hurt my feelings."
"Yeah, and that's only because you don't have any." Clara said, tossing the note to the Time Lord. Clara wiped her eyes and sniffled as the Doctor read. Clara noticed a moment of the Doctor glancing at her with sad eyes…and was that…empathy?
"Ah, the afterword." The Doctor said to himself, sitting down next to Clara and taking her hand, "I suppose I should tell you…I lied, too. Missy lied."
"What?"
"About Gallifrey. The coordinates she gave me…they were wrong. I guess she just made them up."
"So what are you going to do now?"
"I suppose…go look for it…again." The Doctor said, "Never give up, never give in, remember?"
"Ah, that's right, your motto." Clara said, "I wish I could give Danny up."
"The good part is, you don't have to." The Doctor said, "Do you remember, quite a while ago, climbing through the TARDIS? I know that you saw this room, the TARDIS told me so, a seemingly meaningless collection of things? A model TARDIS, a magnifying glass, an umbrella…"
"Yeah? What about it?"
"That's my memory room."
"Memory room?"
"Everything in that room is a memento of someone I've lost. I keep them, so that way I don't have to give them up, that way, they live on in that one particular thing." The Doctor explained, "Perhaps…you can do the same with young Dan the Soldier Man?"
"Perhaps I can." Clara said, taking one of the roses from the bouquet, "Mind if I borrow one of those big books of yours from the TARDIS library?"
"Anytime." The Doctor replied. Besides, that's what all those things were in that TARDIS room- pressed flowers. Memories made through lifetimes loved and lost. They both sat there for a while, hand-in-hand, supporting each other in their feeling of loss. In these times, there truly was nothing to say.
