When Clara finally awoke, she felt a strange sensation around her, like she was connected to something, but she didn't know what. All she knew was the racing of her mind and her heart. Wait, that wasn't right, she has two hearts now, she realized, but it still made her feel like she had just run 10 miles as fast as she could without stopping. She finally opened her eyes, and noticed that she was connected to several monitors. The Doctor was sitting in a chair in the same room. "Oh, good, you're up," he said, relieved, "How do you feel?"
"Weird," she said, "like I've just studied for a test while sprinting a mile."
The Doctor chuckled, "You'll get used to it. Do you think you can get up?" Clara shrugged and tried to sit up on the bed, and then stand, which she did successfully, but walking was another story. She took a step, and then fell. The Doctor helped her back to bed and told her to just try and heal herself. "It won't make you regenerate, it'll just help you recoup so you can adjust easier."
The Doctor began to wonder if what he was doing was right. What would happen if Clara couldn't take the change of species? And even if she did, would others be able to as well? All these questions added to his already darkened inside. He was becoming like his enemies.
A couple days later, after checking on her every 15 minutes or so the entire time, he walked into her recovery room to find that she was sitting in a chair off to the side instead of her bed, and that she had read almost every book she could get her hands on. The oddest part of them all was that all of them were written in High Gallifreyan. "How did you learn that language?"
"What language? These are written in English…" She closed the book she was on, which had circles within circles on the front, "Oh… how could I have done that?" Clara asked, obviously confused.
"Well, you are a Time Lady now, so I suppose that you picked up the language when you were turned into one," He stopped, realizing that he was speaking in Gallifreyan without thinking, another sign of degeneration. He was forgetting how to speak English. "Did you get any of that?"
"Every word. Why?" She asked in perfect Gallifreyan, "You're speaking English, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not. You're speaking Gallifreyan. The TARDIS doesn't translate it. Here, try reading this." He handed her a book that he knew was in English. Clara opened it, looked at the pages, closed it and put it down.
"I don't understand any of it. Is it in English?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it was. Your synapses must have been shocked from the transfer so much that you now only know Gallifreyan. You're going to have to relearn English if we are to communicate with anyone. While the TARDIS doesn't translate this language, it will translate English like it normally does. She might even help you now that you're a Time Lady. Based on how she's been acting so far, she likes you now, at least a little."
"Ugh. This is going to be really hard. I couldn't even pass a French Exam in school!" Clara then left the room looking for the library.
The Doctor began to wonder what would happen if he didn't make it to where his species didn't need him anymore. He sadly walked out to the control room and began to make up survival kits for Clara and all the other Time Lords that were soon to be created. Each included a piece of TARDIS coral, some writings in High Gallifreyan, as well as Circular, and some material to make the traditional headpiece armor out of. While he hated it, he needed to keep the culture going by making sure the new Time Lords stay alive. Suddenly, a huge crack of what seemed to be thunder shook the TARDIS, making her doors fly open only for the Doctor to see where they were plummeting down to: Skaro.