Author's Note: I thought, for about a split second, once the Christmas special ended, that I would no longer be inspired to write anything concerning Eleven and Clara, but I was mistaken. The episode only served a inspiration. This is just a quick one-shot. When I say quick, I mean written in thirty minutes at two in the morning. All errors and mistakes are definitely my own and I will fix them at one point. Thanks to those who read what I write. It means quite a bit.
Disclaimer: No, I don't anything associated with Doctor Who
A whole new regeneration cycle, taking a bit longer.
It was taking quite awhile, it had started but it still wasn't time. The Doctor was glad for this after he had a moment to think about it.
He had literally thrown away moments of his life, and Clara's, by sending her away from him. Twice. The second time he promised he wouldn't but he did, anyway. Of course he didn't feel good about it. He had warned her before, when they first met. Not flat out but he told her that he wished he was more like her. In the sense that he didn't walk out on the people cared for. Oh, but he did, he flew away from them. As fast as he could. Maybe it was sick in a sense, leaving someone to keep them safe but it was all he knew. Clara didn't except it either time, she found her way back. He would keep his promise this time, he wouldn't send her away.
The Doctor had his arms tight around her, in fact, as they lay on the floor console room in the TARDIS. Not exactly the most comfortable place but neither cared. The minutes were ticking by one by one by one, just to be gone in another instant. He would be gone just like time.
Clara moved and pulled away from him, to look down at him. At first with a frown, then soon, a smile. He smiled back at her.
"What?" he asked, his voice strained, like it was in pain.
Clara shook her head. This time was fleeting, why fill it with empty words?
"Clara, I want to know," he pleaded, very unlike him – but soon he wouldn't be him, anyway.
"I'm just going to miss your annoying face," she said, barely above a whisper, her hand tracing along his cheek, down his jaw, and his chin. She placed a kiss on his chin, "Especially your chin. I'll miss that most."
The pain in her eyes hurt him deeply and he wanted nothing more than to erase it, to somehow go back in time and never appear in her life. He would still remember, though, no matter what body he inhabited, he would still have the memories. It wouldn't be fair to Clara. The times he had with her in the past year were some of the best he's had all his twelve-hundred years of living. She had become the most important. Everyone was important, of course, but Clara Oswald was quite possibly the most crucial to his being. His Clara, his impossible girl.
"I'm so sorry," he muttered, broken, seemingly to no one in particular. He wasn't looking to Clara, he wasn't looking anywhere. His eyes were unseeing but in his hearts, he could feel the pain he had caused Clara because he felt it, too. He looked to her now, "I'm so, so sorry, Clara?"
She was confused and he knew he didn't deserve someone like her in his life.
"What for?"
Someone so forgiving, accepting, humble. Perfect for him, because he made a lot of mistakes and this life of his could get lonely, but she would stay by his side. Always have, through all of his lives, whether he knew it at the time or not. She was always there.
"For leaving you," he sat up, face to face with her, ran his fingers through her hair. The subtle, but ever-present yellow glow to his hand reflected off her hair, her face, and she was so beautiful, "I'm glad your face is the last face this face will see."
"Stop it," she broke, her eyes wet tears that were threatening to fall, "It's okay. I found a way back to you. Just, please, this time, don't leave me. Please don't change."
The Doctor shut his eyes, tight, willing away any misery he's ever brought this woman, not wanting to see her sadness etched upon that face of hers. If anyone had big sad eyes, it was Clara. Those eyes of hers had him yearning for actions and words that would stop her hurting.
"You know I have to."
She nodded, she knew, "Just not yet."
He grabbed her hand and held it tight, "Not yet." At this point, he was actively fighting off his regeneration. Only to say goodbye. He couldn't abandon her without saying goodbye.
"Do you remember, Clara? When we first landed in the town called Christmas? You said you ran away with me because you fancied me," there was a tone amusement just slightly hidden away by sadness.
"That was only hours ago for me, Doctor. I remember." Where was he going with his, why was he bringing this up? She knew very well how she felt. She was the one who felt it, she was the one who said it.
"You have to, you have to know that all this time, I've only wanted to protect you. By sending you away, or leaving you, lying to you – all those awful things I've done, it was to keep you from harm."
"I've never needed protected," Oh, didn't he know. It was what scared him the most about her and he knew it had nothing to do with him. It was just truly who she was. Brave and willing to sacrifice her life for him. Anyone, probably. But the fact that she'd died a thousand times over for him, a silly old madman with a blue box – it scared him to death and it sent his hearts ablaze with a love he couldn't quite explain. It was Clara that he would be nowhere without.
"I don't have much time left, Clara. I just know that if you knew before now, how I felt for you..how I feel for you, you have would talked me into staying or into keeping you around and I would have. Oh, I would have but then somewhere down the roads, I would have to had to bury you and that's not a thought I could ever bear. You are so loved, my impossible girl. So loved by me."
Clara's tears were falling freely, now, "He – I – I'll need you. When this isn't my face anymore, I'll need you more than ever because there's a chance I could forget who I am. Remind me. Make me better. Make into the man that does deserve to be with you."
Clara kissed him to silence him, he was already exactly what she wanted, "I love you all. All your faces that I've seen. Old, new, aged. All of you, Doctor. I'll love you after you change. I'll just always love you," she cupped his face, "the most. My Doctor."
He pressed his lips to hers, for what he knew would be the last time with this body, and he savored the feel. Tucked into his memory, hoping it wouldn't alter. He pulled away, smiled sadly, kissed her forehead and backed away from her. They got their proper goodbye and he felt peace now as he shut his eyes and let himself self be enveloped by the yellow light.
