A/N: Yeah, this one's a biiiiit longer than I said my standard format would be. Well, I got a bit carried away. I thought about splitting it into two parts…but…eurgh where's the fun in that? This is fanfiction. We read fanfiction for a reason. Mainly to have our shippyness fulfilled. And because we can't stand the wait.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! You've been such an inspiration!

Although, to be quite honest, that pool's a bit smaller than I expected it to be : ( It's easy to fix that, though! Remember to leave a review when you've finished reading! And remember, if you have any ideas, I'll happily take suggestions!

-CHAPTER SIX-

-ROSE-

I don't know where I am. I just know I'm running. Sometimes it's like I've lived a thousand lives in a thousand places. I'm born, I live, I die. And always, there's the Doctor. Always I'm running to save the Doctor. Again and again and again. And he hardly ever hears me. But I've always been there. Right from the very beginning. Right from the day he started running.

Explosions are happening all around me. Shop window dummies are coming to life as I watch in terror. They kill. They march and shoot with their plastic hands.

I'm going to die.

I run and hide, because I am so terrified. They chase me under the London Eye. I end up underground.

It's a dark, scary place I end up in. There are railings and fire and lava and it looks like something out of Terminator. I'm scared. I'm so scared.

I'm too young to die. I haven't done anything with my life. I'll have died for nothing, being killed by a plastic shop window dummy. Dad always said I should have worked harder in school.

I'm only 26.

I'm too young. Too young. I don't want to die.

I start to cry, because I'm so afraid. I sink to the floor and cling to a safety railing high above the floor, high above the pit of lava that seems alive. Below me, I hear the whimpering of a terrified boy chained to the railing. I want to help him, but I don't want to get any closer to the pit. I don't want to be noticed.

I don't want to die.

So I hide.

I watch as they storm in, a blonde girl and a man in leather. They are so brave, braver than I could ever be. The man stands before the fire pit, and he speaks to it. Perhaps it is alive, after all. I'm curious, now. And my curiosity is enough to make me not so afraid.

And this man…he makes me feels safe. I feel scared for him, but not so scared for me anymore. I feel like I know him. Like I've known him all my life. Like he's one of the most important men in my life. The most important man I've ever known.

But I've no idea who he is. I've never met him before. At least, I don't think I've met him before. I might've forgotten. But I think I would have remembered him. He's very distinctive, with his leather jacket and his sarcastic smile with dark eyes that hold so much pain.

Not to mention those ears.

A giggle slips out, and I don't feel so scared anymore.

I watch from above as the man bargains with what he calls the Nestene Consiousness, until it comes to a head and he's trapped with two shop window dummies holding him back. He shouts at them, terrified.

"That's not true! I should know, I was there. I fought in the war! I couldn't save your world, I couldn't save any of them!"

I watch as the blonde girl rushes over to a wall, and clutches a chain. It sways ominously in front of my face without her touching it, and I follow the chain with my eyes upward.

Above me, a man I had not noticed before is hacking away at the chain with an axe. I gasp in horror, and look back down at the girl, who clearly intends to swing on it.

My feet thud on the metal grating as I run upward.

"Stop that! What are you doing?!" I yell at the man. He leers at me, eyes cold. I'm afraid again, but I can't let this girl get hurt. I know it's important. I know she's important. She's important to him.

The man with the axe is terrifying looking. He's dressed oddly, as though he's from another age. His whole attire is very Victorian.

He continues to hack on the chain with the axe, and with every blow the chain the girl now holds in her hands and is hefting herself up onto becomes weaker. When she swings, it will break and fall.

With a rush of courage, I run towards the man, and push him away. I watch in horror at what I've done, as he slips over the railing and falls. Down, down, down.

I turn away. I can't watch him land and die. I barely have enough time to jump at the chain and hold it in place, wrapping it around myself, pushing against the railing with my foot and supporting the girl as she swings to save the Doctor.

How do I know his name?

It's only when she's safe in his arms that I let go of the chain. It's only when the vat of lava is roaring that I realize I'm in trouble.

"Doctor!" I cry down to him. He doesn't hear me. Somehow I get the feeling he never does. He runs into a blue box with the blonde girl and the boy, and I've left on my own as the underground base begins to explode around me.

I only know I have to run.

I get singed badly as I escape. I'm positive my hair has caught fire at least once. I don't know how I make it out alive, but somehow I find myself above ground, the London Eye overhead and the smell of city air sucking into my burned lungs as I cough and gasp for air. Shock is beginning to set in as the adrenaline wears off.

What the hell happened? What the hell have I done? A man plummeted to his death because of me. And I know a man I shoudn't know. Shop window dummies coming to life. Talking lava. What is happening? What the hell just happened?

I might need a drink. Of water. Or maybe something stronger.

Definitely something stronger.

I make my way to a pub. I catch sight of myself in the window and fix myself up so I look somewhat decent. I enter the pub, take a seat at the bar and order myself a scotch on the rocks.

"You don't look like a scotch person," says a man next to me. He speaks with a heavy northern burr.

"Yeah, well, rough day," I mutter back without looking at him. I take a swill of my scotch. I feel a bit better and the shock starts to wear off.

"You shouldn't drink that so fast," he says.

"You're not my—" I start angrily, and look at him properly.

It's big ears. It's leather. It's the Doctor.

"—Doctor," I finish my sentence softly. His eyebrows raise in surprise.

He smiles as my mouth falls open, and he takes a swill of his drink. A scotch, himself.

After a full minute of me staring at him with my mouth open, he chuckles a bit and looks back at me.

"You've got the advantage on me," he says. I abruptly close my mouth, realizing how foolish I look. "What's your name?"

"Clara," I tell him.

"Nice name, Clara," he says. There's a faraway look in his eyes, as if he's remembering something, before his eyes become cold again and he takes another drink. "I suppose you already know I'm the Doctor."

"How do I know that?" I mutter.

The Doctor chuckles.

"I assume you've met me before. I don't think I've met you, though. I dunno. Life of a time traveler. You never can keep it straight in your head."

"Time travel," I say, my eyes wide. He looks at me with his eyes twinkling and he smiles, leaning in close to me as though to impart a great secret.

"All of time and space. Everything that ever happened or ever will. Anywhere you wanna go. And I'll show you, too."

I stare at him with disbelief.

"As far as come on lines go, that one you might wanna keep in your pocket."

"I've got lots of things in my pockets. They're bigger on the inside. You wanna see?"

"Does that one actually work on anyone?"

"Normally, yeah," he says with a grin. "Though I usually get them by the 'all of time and space' bit and then we get to the 'it's bigger on the inside' part." I look at him for a moment with a knowing smile, and then he gasps and blushes, suddenly realizing what he's saying. "My…my, spaceship, that is. My magnificent time and space ship. Ship, not my…" he blushes even deeper. "Not that I'm…my ship. My ship. We're talking about my ship here."

"Is that what you call it, then? I've heard some strange ones before, but I've never heard that one."

He blushes an even deeper shade of scarlet and I giggle.

"You should be embarrassed more often. It improves your look a lot."

He huffs.

"Honestly, I've only just looked at myself today. Blimey, the ears. I though' I'd come out a bit better lookin' this time round, guess not. That's the problem with regeneration, yeh never know what you're gonna get. I mean, blimey, my sixth regeneration always walked around with a clown coat. A clown coat. Like it was the height of fashion! The Doctor and the Technicolor insanity coat. It was worse than the celery. And my fourth regeneration! I had the biggest teeth. Although I do miss that scarf. That was a fantastic scarf." The Doctor shrugged, and took another drink, not noticing at all that I'm looking at him with bemusement. "One o' these days I'll get it right."

"Alright, I think you've had enough," I say sternly, and take his scotch away from him. He frowns.

"Yeah, suppose you're right." The Doctor places a head in his hand, leaning on the bar heavily, and rubs his close-shaven head while looking at me through hazy, slightly drunken eyes. "Have I met you before? You look familiar."

I just smile. He shakes his head as though to clear it.

"I dunno. I've met too many people. That's my problem. I've got too much stuff in my head. I could run across the same girl a thousand times and I wouldn't remember her face."

There's a silent beat.

The bartender comes over and tells the Doctor how much he owes him. The Doctor looks slightly pained.

"I never carry money," he says quietly to me. I roll my eyes. Typical.

"He's on me," I say, forking the cash over. "So long as you tell me how many he's had."

"Six," says the bartender, shaking his head. "He's gonna be hurtin' in the morning."

"I'm a Time Lord," says the Doctor indignantly. "Time Lords don't get hangovers."

The bartender shakes his head. "I've seen worse."

"And some water, if you don't mind," I ask the bartender.

"Listen, I could sober up in an instant if I wanted to, I don't need water," scoffed the Doctor. "You funny little humans. You can never handle your liquor. Even way in the fifty-first century. You'd think you'd 'ave developed a bit of immunity by then, but no yeh just go right on. Makin' fools of yourselves, dancin' like chickens and praying to the porcelain god."

"Oi! I'll bet whose gonna be prayin' to the porcelain god you don't drink that water."

The Doctor rolls his eyes and takes a sip.

"Thing is I don't wanna sober up," he says quietly, his voice suddenly serious. "I thought I had one. I thought she was…she is different. She made me laugh. I mean, honest to goodness laugh." The Doctor suddenly looks like he's had his heart trampled on. Like he's seen horrors no one could possibly imagine. "I never though' I'd laugh again."

"What happened to her?" I ask quietly.

"She didn't wanna come with me," he says softly.

There's a moment of silence as I contemplate him. Then I nudge him, smiling.

"Maybe you forgot to tell her it travels in time," I say cheekily.

Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth falls open. Then he looks at me, and the biggest grin spreads across his face. Suddenly I find myself being grabbed by the head and kissed full on the mouth by this man. He pulls away quite quickly, leaving me rather stunned and, quite frankly, confused.

"You! You are fantastic!"

And he's laughing wildly, and I can't help but grin in return. He dashes out of the bar, and I watch through the window as he runs down the street. I smile as he disappears from view, a strange happiness coming over me.

"Run," I whisper with a smile. "Run you clever boy, and remember."

I don't know where I am. I just know I'm running. Always I'm running to save the Doctor.

-?-

A/N: This one might be my favorite so far. Love it. Fantastic.

Oh, and to fill a bit of a plot-hole that I left that I just now remembered...The Doctor was sort-of drunk when he met Clara, hence why he doesn't remember her. He sobered up before he went to go get Rose, as well. Hence why he's not drunk at the end of "Rose"

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