Her words halted suddenly, mid-sentence. The sudden alarm had made sure of that.

Immediately, a groan travelled across the class before her. Clara shared it. It was raining. Why did the fire alarm have to be going off right at that moment?

She put her book down on her desk, doing her best not to roll her eyes. The meeting earlier that morning had informed the staff a fire drill would be occurring sometime that day. She just hadn't expected it to be right after the heavens opened over the school. They were going to get soaked stood in formation on the yard.

"Right, class." she sighed, signalling the chatty bunch to stand, "Leave your belongings where they are. Make your way out of the building. Quickly and quietly."

A chorus of less than enthusiastic grunts sounded as a band of chairs scrapped across the classroom floor.

"But Miss, it's raining."

Clara shared young Mariah Quimby's protest. She for one didn't fancy getting drenched for the sake of a fire drill but she had an obligation to get them all out of there. She had to act as though it were a real fire – after all, a real fire wouldn't wait for the rain to stop.

She stood at the door, looking over her rather unimpressed Year 8's.

"Come on." she ushered them out.

"Is a real fire, Miss?"

Clara's eyes did roll at Brad Bond's smirk. He wouldn't have cared if there was a hurricane outside. Anything to get him out of double English.

The class filtered out in the corridor, the lot of them heading towards the nearest exit. It was then Clara was able to see a few of the dordellers.

"Kyra. Leave your bag and let's go."

For a short pupil, Kyra Ellis wasn't one to back down from anyone – fellow pupil or teacher.

"I ain't leaving me phone in 'ere." She gripped the said device in her hand.

Clara made no attempt to argue with her. She'd never win that way. She knew Kyra Ellis, knew that if she could, she would find every reason under the sun to remain inside. The idea of the water ruining her freshly styled hair or trying-to-be-immaculate make-up must have made the poor girl shudder.

"You shouldn't even have it in school."

Kyra scoffed, only making Clara tilt her head slightly. A few years ago she'd have felt out of her league, not anymore. If she could deal with the Doctor and all the people she'd met when travelling over the years, she could deal with a pupil.

"You either put it away or give it to me and don't get it back to the end of the day."

Kyra scoffed again. "You can't do that!"

Clara held her hand out. "Me or bag." she reiterated, "Now hurry up and get outside."

The young girl huffed, attempting to call her teacher's bluff. However, Clara didn't back down. Something she'd picked up from the Doctor very quickly was his no-nonsense look. It was one she'd got down to a tee.

"Fine!"

The young girl dropped her phone into her bag before hurrying out the room. Clara just smiled to herself once she had. She liked the fact that after a couple of years, she was finally getting even a miniscule of respect from the pupils. About time.

She stepped out of the classroom, watching the sea of pupils' swarm to the open fire exit. The protests when they stepped outside were easily heard but they didn't point-blank refuse to go out – probably due to the fact that the Deputy Head was stood at the door ushering them all out. Nobody dared mess with Miss Brough.

In Clara's eyes, the only good thing she saw about the weather was the fact that it wasn't cold. Being mid-July, it was rather humid. Classic thunderstorm weather – that's how her Dad would have described it.

She remained in the arch of her classroom door, watching the pupils head out. They were always priority, pupils then the staff. In the event of a real fire, the staff's duty of care was to ensure each and every pupil was out before they were.

The swarm began to thin out, the pupils all finding themselves in the mercy of the British elements. It was only then that Clara could see the concern plastered on the approaching teacher's face.

Clara frowned. She couldn't understand why Mrs Wetherby looked so worried. The school had experienced many fire drills before and while the staff had always been trying to complete an evacuation in record time; she'd never seen any of them worry before.

"Jenny, what's wrong?"

Wetherby approached, a walkie-talkie gripped tightly in her hand. It was clear to see the tension in her upper body as she met Clara's eye.

The fear she saw was something which made her shoulders tense a little. Jenny Wetherby was not a woman easily worried, not about anything.

"The canteen's on fire." Jenny's voice was soft enough not to concern the last few pupils hastily making their way out of the building.

Clara's eyes went wide. "What?!"

She hadn't expected to hear that.

"Clara, can you just check the changing rooms then get out?"

She didn't bother answering as Jenny continued speedily on her way; she just did as she was asked. Suddenly, the weather outside wasn't even remotely a problem.

The corridor was relatively empty as she hastily walked down, the only movement coming from the male staff member checking the rooms on the other side of the hallway. It was clear that he too knew of the danger the school was facing.

Clara popped her head into the room. Empty. Ignoring the knot in her stomach, she then headed to the back room of the changing room. She was relieved to see it empty too. She sighed contently before heading out and shutting the door. Now all she had to do was get out.

The corridor was still, the male teacher having already gone. Clearly, this side of the school was empty. She was just about to head back towards the fire exit when she heard it.

Clara froze as her eyes went wide. Her head snapped around, hearing the noise increase as she looked down towards the dim corridor. Even with the sound of the rain against the windows and roof, she could hear it clearly enough.

"Damn it, Doctor…" she muttered.

Without even realising, her feet were moving – deeper into the school, closer towards the burning canteen. He couldn't be here, not now. He had no idea what he was about to step into.

The TARDIS was getting louder; it was obviously landing. She sighed harshly.

It was then that she heard something much worse, much worse than the TARDIS landing and signalling the Doctor's arrival.

Screaming.

Again, her head snapped around. Her neck would have objected but the adrenaline pulsing through her veins was fighting it off.

It was coming from the direction of the canteen.

Clara didn't think; she'd been in worse. She was the Impossible Girl, the woman who'd jumped into the Doctor's time stream and been ripped apart into hundreds of pieces. Something as simple as fire wasn't going to stop her.

She ran, literally into the fire. Well, not literally but close enough.

She'd only passed through one set of double doors before she was into the thick of the smoke.

Clara coughed, her slightly limited access to oxygen not stopping her. They were louder now, the screams. There were people trapped in there somewhere.

The smoke fogged up her view and within moments, she could see the fire. It was in the kitchen, the open hatch almost framing it. It definitely wasn't small.

Her eyes went wide, the heat becoming more noticeable as she tried to work out where the frantic cries were coming from. She knew she wasn't going mad – there were easily at least three distinct voices, perhaps more.

"Hello?!"

She coughed again, ignoring the fire through the hatch as she walked further into the canteen. She ducked a little, finding the air a little clearer the lower she got.

"We're in here! We're in here!"

The crackling of the fire was loud but she did her best to block it out. Harsh banging then caught her attention, directing her to the location of the voices. The girls' toilets, the ones dangerously close to the burning kitchen.

Clara's eyes went wide.

"Help us! Please! We can't get out!"

She coughed again, the mixture of having a lack of oxygen and the heat starting to get to her. She could see that the doorway of the toilets was blocked, part of the ceiling having collapsed against it. Clearly the damaging touch of the fire was destabilising the room. She really needed to get out of there, but how could she? There were pupils trapped; she couldn't leave them.

"Girls, is there a window?!" she cried though her coughing, getting closer to the toilet door but also keeping her distance from the kitchen, "Can you get out that way?!"

Clara could hear the girls coughing, three distinct coughs. Three pupils. Three people who needed help she wasn't sure how to provide.

"I… I don't think so, Miss! There is one but it's too high and we can't break it!"

Clara was beginning to struggle now, her coughing becoming more violent. She shed herself of her blazer, letting it fall to the floor. The heat wasn't helping matters either.

She was tempted to try and move some of the fallen debris but she didn't think it would do much good. From what she could see, the door itself was damaged. Even if she cleared the doorway, it didn't look as though the door was going to open.

She tried to speak again but her coughing hindered her from doing so. Frankly, she was at a loss.

"Clara!"

His voice was both a welcomed prayer and an unwanted acknowledgement. The scolding she was going to get off him once she was out of there was something she could already picture.

She managed to look up, coughing violently as he grasped her shoulders. His eyes were wide, his frown deep.

"What are you doing?! Come on!"

He tried to pull her out, something she fought. That only made his frown deepen. Was she mad? Had she finally lost it? Why didn't she want to leave somewhere that was putting her life in imminent danger?

"Doctor, they're trapped…" her voice was weak, her body beginning to struggle with the limited oxygen her cells were receiving.

"Who are?"

The words had barely left his mouth before he took note of the frantic cries from behind the door Clara, and now he, was stood near to. He tilted his head, immediately analysing the sounds. Three different humans, all females between 12 – 14 years. Merely children.

His eyes widened. From what he could tell without actually seeing them, they were in a worse condition than Clara. That was saying something. They'd clearly been exposed to the smoke longer.

"Doctor, help them…" she pleaded, her body dropping to the floor as her coughing took over. It was getting to a point where it was hurting to breathe now.

It annoyed her he didn't seemed to be affected in the slightest. Damned alien physiology. However, that wasn't something she could dwell on. All she needed was the girls safe, that and air.

The Doctor reached for her, lifting her to her unsteady feet. He was going to help them, no doubt about it, but he was going to help her too. He needed to get her out of there.

"Come on. We can get them with the TARDIS."

His arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her as he tried to walk her out. However, she felt too weak to go at an acceptable speed so she used her final burst of energy to pull away from him.

"Go. Get. Them. Out." she coughed, aware of his growing frown, "I can get myself out…"

She mirrored his frown. "Go!"

He did, he ran out of the canteen doors and disappeared. She envied his energy, she really could have done with some of that for herself.

"Miss…"

Clara could hear the girls were getting to the same point she was, weak and gasping for air. The entire situation was breath taking, literally.

"Don't worry…" she huffed, "My friend's coming to get you…"

She tried to move towards the exit, towards the less smoky part of the school. If she could just get out of the canteen, she'd be fine. She just needed a bit of oxygenated air, preferably sooner rather than later.

Her lungs were beginning to burn. It was unnatural – painful. She couldn't take it much longer.

Clara wasn't quite sure how many steps she taken before her legs gave way, her knees colliding harshly with the floor. However, it hadn't hurt. The rest of her body followed suit, her chest hitting the ground mere moments later. She hadn't got the energy to force herself back up.

Her head rested against the cold floor. That surprised her. Given the temperature of the room, she was surprised to find the floor as cool as it was. She wasn't complaining – the chill was taking the needed edge away from her burning skin.

Her breathing was growing shallower; she could feel it. Her coughing wasn't as violent either, her body wouldn't allow it. It wasn't long before a growing darkness began covering her eyes. In fact, the last thing she heard before it took over was the TARDIS materialising.

"Clara… Clara…"

The first thing she was aware of was something covering her face. However, to her surprise, it didn't feel suffocating – actually, it felt the opposite. The next thing she was aware of was the light attacking her heavy eyelids.

Clara moaned, her head spinning. She wasn't too sure what was going on, where she was. All she knew was that it was cooler.

"Clara…"

She recognised his voice. Even with how lightheaded she felt, she could make out his concern. Damn his need to worry over her.

It wasn't long before she was aware she was moving, somehow. She knew it wasn't by her own accord, she barely had enough strength to open her eyes. Still, she tried.

Clara winced as the light invaded the slits in her eyes. It was almost breath taking. She was aware she was outside, being carried on a stretcher towards something out of her view. However, the blue pulsing lights she could make out made it easy to guess.

She allowed herself to take as deep a breath as she could, her head rolling to look up towards the sky. She'd never been so thankful that the British weather had decided to ease up. At least she wasn't being pelted in the face by raindrops.

Oxygen was being fed to her nose through a mask covering her, it was that which made it difficult to speak. Still, she tried.

She soon took note of the Doctor walking alongside her, his concern easing only a little as she woke. He should never have left her in the canteen. If anything had happened to her, it would have been on him.

Fighting her arm out of the blanket wrapped around her, Clara lifted the mask from her face. Both the paramedics and the Doctor tried to object but she was having none of it.

She felt the stretcher come to a stop, now able to see the ambulance above her head.

"No… I don't need to go to hospital." her voice was scratchy.

The paramedics ignored her protest, allowing the Doctor to be the one to talk to her. He wasn't really surprised at her in all honestly.

He shook his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. He for one was more than glad to see the colour returning to her cheeks. She'd looked far too pale when he'd seen her be carried out of the canteen by emergency services after dropping the three girls outside the school curtesy of the TARDIS. He may have had two hearts but he was sure they both stopped in that moment.

"Clara, you were unconscious." he felt the need to point out.

She looked at him pointedly, feeling too weak to object but she still did nonetheless.

"I. Don't. Need. A. Doctor…"

He smiled at that, shaking his head as the paramedic on her left placed the mask back over her nose and mouth.

"I'm not sure you get a vote."

Any other time Clara would have scoffed – he'd just used her own words against her. However, she wasn't in any position to argue and she knew he knew it.

He watched as the people in green lifted her into the back of the ambulance, his fingers tapping nervously against his arm. He could have lost her today. He would never have been able to forgive himself for that.

One of the paramedics turned to him as the others secured her in.

"Are you coming with her, sir?"

His eyebrows cocked up for a moment. He pitted the young woman if she thought she'd have stood a chance trying to stop him. He'd already abandoned Clara once today; he wasn't about to do it again.

Wordlessly, he stepped inside and sat down. He couldn't help but watch over her as she lay with her eyes closed.

For the first time in years, he didn't have any objection to leaving the TARDIS in favour of some much cruder type of human transport. His only concern was Clara.

The doors shut them inside and he grabbed her hand, sighing when he felt her pulse beneath her skin. She was alive.

He saw her lips move underneath the mask, slowly mouthing his name before forming a soft smile. She looked weak, very much unlike the Clara he knew, but it was better than the alternative. In fact, in that moment, seeing her chest rise slowly up and down, it was nothing more than breathtaking.