AN: The following scene takes place in Face the Raven, where it is presumed Clara dies. This is sort of how I think Clara's last moments will go down, at least ssimilarly. This is written from Rigsy's POV (so glad he's returning!)

I didn't understand what happened. It's like they say in the news reports - all a blur, so fast. One minute, I was spray-painting a mural for the community garden. The next, I was holding a dying woman.

Her head lay in my lap, and I could feel her anguish by the way her breaths came in and out. "It'll be okay," I tried telling her, but maybe I was just trying to calm myself.

I could see the small tears in her eyes, the way her lips quivered. She must've been scared, or in pain, or worried about how the Doctor might take this.

I'd met this woman before, about a year or two ago, now. Her name was Clara. At first I thought she was crazy, talking to herself and about tiny people, but then she had me nearly sacrificing myself to save the world...not like it wasn't her idea or anything. From then on, my whole perspective on life changed, and I saw...opportunity in my spray-paintings.

And now here she was, dying, after another "wild adventure." That's not what I want to call it though. "You sacrificed yourself," I started out, ashamed of even starting the question, with the state she was in. "Why?"

She didn't answer me, just looked off to the side sadly. I decided to follow through with a joke. "Wasn't there a hairband?" Oh no. Was that joke a sick one?

She chuckled again, and I wondered, for a tiny moment, if she'd be okay. I really hoped that, but then she gasped in pain, her eyes squeezing tight. I didn't know what to do, except keep repeating over and over, "It's okay, you'll be okay, the Doctor will be here soon."

At that moment, Clara and I both lifted our heads at the wheezing sounds of the...TARDIS, I think it was called, both relieved and worried at the same time. The doors thrust open, and the Doctor was on his knees in an instant. He was in his red velvet coat, and it looked almost as if he was dressed to say goodbye. "No, no, no, no, no," he rapidly whispered to her. I did what I could do by laying her on the concrete, and stepped back a few paces to give them a bit of privacy. I just watched, too stunned to really have any emotion of my own. I could see it coming, though, like a storm in the distance.

I noticed the way he gently lifted her into his lap, now, holding her much closer than I had been. His right arm supported her back, his left extending to caress her face, which was moist from a few fallen tears. "Doctor." Her voice was even quieter, croakier.

I noticed the way they looked at each other, deep and sad in the other's stare. It was hard to watch them, because they were mourning for each other like both had already died. "Sh, sh, sh, shh," he murmured to her. "Don't talk. It'll weaken you." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a golden box looking thing with a dial. What was it?

He held it over her, and began twisting the dial every which way, making it click and ring. "This might just help," the Doctor started explaining at last, but it didn't sound like he was too confident in the machine. " 'Sort of like a thermostat for the dying, except also with a heartbeat spiker. The good kind." He gave Clara a polite, affirming, and toothy grin. She smiled back warmly, and I even found myself smiling. Things at least sounded okay, and that was good enough for me in the moment.

Suddenly, the Doctor's device started clicking more than it was ringing, and his attention was on it, grin fading. I felt motivated by my worry to ask. "What's wrong?"

"Well, this is a 2128 model." He shook it vigorously beside his ear, like he was listening for someone to tell him when the systems were on, and tried twisting the dial again. "A little dodgey." Still no ringing, and it was back to the vigorous shaking.

An arm lifted up and grasped his, making it still. We focused our attention downward on Clara, whose tears must have increased during his struggle to save her life. I'd been so caught up in the device that I didn't even notice her crying. "Please," she pleaded. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Clara, I'm not letting you die when there's a solution!" The pain, the anger in his voice.

She breathed heavily, and I felt the tugging urge to do something, anything, and hope for the best. I took a step forward. "Can't I help?"

"NO!"

His bark startled me, and I stepped back. But then I looked down at Clara's phone in my hand, began dialing the hospital. For whatever reason, he retaliated, and the two of us started to argue, until something small and squeaky stopped us.

"Doctor, please."

Both our attention snapped back on Clara. She was what mattered, but for some stupid reason, I let the phone drop to my side. Wasn't like they were picking up, anyway.

Clara continued weakly. "It's been good. Traveling with you." She was barely able to, but somehow she managed it, and fixed her eyes on me. "You too, Rigsy."

A respectful nod from me, and I left my head in sort of a ducked position.

Now the Doctor seemed to lose himself, held-in tears falling for the first time, I could just tell. "But you can't. You can't die like this."

"Yes, I can. Now, I can." Her words were very affirming, stronger now, comforting to the both of us. She paused for a moment, gathering the next ones carefully. "You... may think this isn't the happiest ending for me, Doctor, but...honestly...you've given me all I ever wanted. To travel, to be someone else...to feel..." This was trickier for her to say. "...to feel special."

Her words hit me, hard in the heart. I realized at that moment that that's how they made me feel over a year ago, like I was someone, that I meant something to the world, that I could do more than what people thought...that I was special. To this day I've felt that way.

He looked at a loss for words, the Doctor, his face twisting like he'd been twisting that dial - every which way. "Clara...I..."

She moved her hand from his arm, and placed it on his left cheek. Gently, he took it in his, and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, as if wanting to absorb the entire moment. Their eyes were deadlocked on each other. She was smiling, he looked broken. I decided to look away, because this was their moment, their last moment.

"Hey," Clara started, voice barely a whisper. "You came back for me."

A great distance came between them, but they were probably closer to each other than ever before. I lifted my hands to my cap, picked it up, and placed it over my heart out of memoriam. I still didn't know what to feel, though...why?

Clara's eyes stared blankly at him now, all their previous sparkle long gone. Yet, her hand was still there, upon the Doctor's cheek, his hand the only thing keeping it up. Across his eyes zoomed all different kinds of emotion, all negative, but the scene soon disappeared behind closed eyes of deep sorrow. I heard a whimper of defeat escape from him.

He pressed the woman's hand against his face, as if squeezing it there would pump life back into her. After a moment, he delicately took the hand away from his cheek, and placed it on Clara's chest for her, but not before delivering the palm a small but heartfelt kiss, in which he leaked out all his feelings. Only afterward did he finally set the appendage down, looking down at her properly. I could see there was something he longed to say, but that he found no use in it, so he said nothing at all. I was in the exact position.

My whole perspective on life would change again, but I constantly remind myself that someone else's life took a major transformation on that fateful, tearful day.