All rights for Doctor Who are the BBC's. I own nothing. Darn these buggers.


Even long after he closed his eyes, as tightly as he could, he kept seeing her.

Me.

His mind was screaming at him to go back. His hearts, his two broken hearts, were demanding the retribution he deserved. His imagination kept showing him her face, most likely in the hope it would persuade him to take his revenge. The young Viking girl whom he'd saved even though he shouldn't have.

He was the one to save her. He was the only one who had the right to end her life.

But he couldn't. Even though there was nothing he wanted more than to revenge, even though his body was aching to tear her apart, piece by piece, the way she did to Clara, he couldn't. He couldn't, because the way she knew they would, Clara's last words wouldn't let him.

As he gently closed her eyes and carried her body out of his TARDIS, the Doctor could almost hear his former self arguing with him. His Warrior self; the one who didn't know Gallifrey wasn't destroyed. The one who had to watch the Time Lords die along with the Daleks, who was born out of war and blood and anger and pain, was telling him to do that again.

Because he could.

Because she took her from him.

Clara made it clear to him that he shouldn't go after Me. She made it clear to him that she didn't want him to. She made it clear to him that even though she wouldn't be there by his side anymore, she wanted him to remember what she told him – to be a Doctor. "We've enough warriors," She told him then, "Any old idiot can be a hero."

"Then what do I do?" He asked her what seemed like forever ago, begging her to help him, even without words.

"What you've always done. Be a Doctor."

"How can I be a Doctor, Clara," He mumbled, kneeling before gently placing her body on the ground, near Danny's tombstone, "If I can't save the people I care for?" His fingers gently brushed away strands of hair that covered her face. "What's the point of being a Doctor if I can't save the ones I love?"

He got up and picked up his sonic sunglasses, looking at the young woman lying on the ground. She'd have liked it there; he knew she would have. It was as if they knew each other in a way no one had ever known someone else before, all since the very moment she stepped into his time stream. Or maybe they did; the Doctor wouldn't have been surprised to learn that.

"I always thought," He said quietly, toying with the sunglasses, "That no human could know a Time Lord so well. But I always thought no one could survive entering someone's time stream." His mind filled with memories of the moment she walked into the bright pillar and the moments that followed, when he followed her and saved her. "You were impossible, weren't you? Simply impossible.

"But then, you were my Impossible Girl." He sighed quietly and then wore the sunglasses. "I don't know if I can be brave, Clara," He admitted. "I don't think I can. I'm sick of losing the people I care for. We've saved Ashildr, but at what price? I should never have saved her.

"You wouldn't agree, would you?" He shook his head slightly as he focused on her body. He knew she wouldn't have liked what he was doing, but he couldn't give in to her, not in this bit, at least. He had to be able to see her again the way she was. "After Amy and Rory were gone, I thought I'd had enough. But then you showed up. Clara Oswin Oswald." He smiled slightly as he remembered the Victorian young woman who chased him. "If I'd have known that would be the price, I'd never have saved her."

The silence was almost more than he could bear, but he didn't continue, not until he finished his work. Taking his sunglasses off, he kneeled next to the perfect diamond monument he'd built, looking at the young woman lying in the centre of it. Her body would never be touched by time; he ensured it. He had to.

"I don't think I can be a Doctor anymore, Clara," He said quietly, his fingers tracing the leaf drawn on the monument. "I don't think I want to be a Doctor anymore. Maybe that's my punishment for ever thinking I can be. Maybe I could never keep that promise."

"Of course you can," She said just as quietly behind him, and he smiled sadly to himself. "If there's anyone who can be a Doctor, it's you."

He shook his head. "What kind of a Doctor watches his friends die over and over again?" He asked, still not turning to face her, knowing that if he did, he would have to acknowledge the fact it wasn't real. "What kind of a Doctor lets his friends die when he can help?"

"You couldn't change anything, and you know that as well as I do. You couldn't change any of that," She added, and he knew she wasn't talking just about herself, "And you know that. Being a Time Lord doesn't mean you can change everything you want to, does it?"

"It should be," He whispered, remembering himself trying to save the humans on Mars. Time Lord Victorious should have been real. He should have been able to change time as he wills.

"No, it shouldn't, and you know it, you clever boy." She touched his back gently, encouraging him to face her. "You're the Doctor. I know you're in pain. I know you're angry. But you're the Doctor. My Doctor. And that's what you'll always be." She moved away before kneeling next to him. "You didn't wipe out the Time Lords. And you wouldn't destroy Me. We both know that."

"No, you don't." He turned to face her, tears shining in his eyes as he saw her in front of him. "I don't. You can't possibly know."

She smiled at him softly, one of her smiles that was reserved to him. "But I do." She hugged him, and even though he knew she wasn't real, he returned the hug, holding her tightly. "Run, you clever boy, and remember me."


When she was gone, he got up and turned back to his TARDIS. He didn't know when he'd visit her grave again, but he knew it would be soon. He only hoped he could be the man she thought he was, even though he didn't believe it anymore.

His fingers found the leaf in his pocket and gently pulled it out. "You blew into the world on this leaf," He said quietly, studying it as his fingers gently moved over it. "Maybe with it I can still be the Doctor."

He pressed his lips against the leaf before placing it back in his pocket, to never be taken away again.