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At the guest who was confused because the Doctor doesn't seem like the Valeyard: That's the point.

Chapter 7

Back in the TARDIS, as the Doctor was working the controls to get them back into space, Clara had a hard time keeping her eyes off him. She could see the real him now that he had dropped the mask. He had been hiding his guilt and despair and loneliness behind a cold mask of brutality and anger, but that was over. No matter how much he protested, Clara would get the truth out of him.

"We're back in space. Safe. For now," the Doctor announced wearily after a while and turned around to look at her.

Those sad eyes, Clara found it hard to look away. He seemed so utterly defeated.

"Doctor, I think it's time for the truth," Clara said.

The Doctor approached her, taking one step after another until he was standing right in front of her, staring at her as if he hadn't seen her properly until now.

"In a moment," he replied with a light smile and spread his arms.

Clara knew what he wanted and if she was quite honest with herself, she wanted it, too. Taking one last step, she pressed her face against his chest and his arms curled tightly around her back. Clara took a deep breath, realizing that he still smelled the same, and he felt the same, too, his slightly cooler body that was still somehow warm against hers. No matter what had happened, he was still her Doctor. If only she could wipe away the pain of the past 12 years.

"I've missed you, too," she admitted, "Despite everything. I never stopped hoping that one day you'd return, especially after Rourke died. I was so angry, but I missed you."

The Doctor slowly released her from the hug and gestured towards the armchairs. They both walked up the stairs, taking a seat, facing each other.

"Before I tell you everything," he began, looking around the console room as if trying to find the right words, "I want to know. . ."

He turned around, looking at her, that sad look on his face again. "Were you happy? On Targonia?"

Clara swallowed hard. It wasn't an easy question. She had loved Rourke, in a way, she had loved the little house they had owned, and of course she loved her son, but all this time she had felt like she had misplaced a part of her heart that could never quite find its way back from space. After all, how could anyone expect to return to a normal life after seeing all the miracles the Doctor had shown her?

"It was an ordinary life," she finally said, "At first I refused to believe that you had abandoned me. I thought you just got caught up in the war, that you would return as soon as it was over."

"I would have," the Doctor interrupted her immediately, "Don't doubt that for a second. I would've come back for you as soon as I had figured out a way."

"I believe you," Clara nodded and waited in case the Doctor wanted to say more, but he leaned back in his chair and so she continued, "When I realized that I was on my own, I tried to build myself a new life. The locals were all so friendly and helpful. I got a job at a school again, teaching."

She laughed slightly at the memory of it, but her face soon turned into a sad smile. All those people she had known had perished last night. Clara should be grieving for them, for the planet she had called her home for so long now, but she was only glad to be back with the Doctor. It didn't seem fair.

"Rourke was one of the first people to help me out. He. . . erm. . . proposed pretty early on. I was confused cause the Targonian rituals are slightly weird. It took me a long time, but I finally gave in. He was a good man. I loved him. Though if this had happened on Earth, under normal circumstances, I don't think I would have ended up with him."

Clara threw a glance at the Doctor, who had turned his face away, but she could still see a hint of resentment on his features, as if the fact that she had found someone somehow displeased him.

"But he was a good man. And a good father. He deserved someone better than me, and he certainly didn't deserve to die," Clara paused, "And a few days ago Vastra came to me. Asking me to kill you with the liquid you found in my bag."

"Did you intend to do it?" the Doctor asked blatantly.

Clara shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so. I can't say. All I knew was that I needed to see you again and Vastra was offering me a chance."

"What did she tell you about me?" he asked her curiously, raising his eyebrows a little.

"She said you are responsible for this war. That you started it."

"Did you believe her?"

"I wasn't sure," Clara replied honestly, "But now I know you have nothing to do with it."

Clara watched him as the Doctor buried his face in his hands, running his fingers through his hair before looking at her again. His face was sad, but otherwise unreadable.

"Vastra was right. In a way I am responsible for everything. It is because of me that the Daleks and the Cybermen and every other evil out there rose to power and I am sorry. I tried to find a way. For 127 years I have searched the universe for a solution, an answer or even a clue, but I didn't find a thing," he said desperately and Clara could hear in his voice how much he had really been trying.

"Why did you leave me? I could've helped you, whatever it is that troubles you. I could've helped," Clara replied, her big eyes staring back at the figure in front of her.

"You can't, Clara. I can't let you stay with me," he said urgently, "Every second you spend with me puts you in the crossfire. You aren't safe here. If I hadn't abandoned you on Targonia, you would've died a long time ago and I can't let that happen. I'd rather see the entire universe in ashes than let you die."

Clara was taken aback by his statement. So all of this, these 12 years on Targonia, the cold demeanour, had been to protect her. But from what?

"The TARDIS," Clara whispered, answering her own question, "The TARDIS asked me to help you and that's what I'm gonna do."

The Doctor scoffed. "Just ignore her. She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Actually, I think she does," Clara replied angrily, "You've been moping for 127 years and finally you get the chance for some actual help. Of course the TARDIS can't let you ignore that!"

The Doctor took a deep breath, rising from his chair and pacing the console room. Clara followed him after a moment of hesitation.

She watched as he entered something into the keyboard and the TARDIS database opened. She only read the first word – Erebos – and turned her attention back to the Doctor.

"That's what the TARDIS was trying to tell me. What is it?" Clara asked.

"It's a shadow," the Doctor replied, "While we were travelling I started to notice that things weren't always going smoothly and that wherever we went there was trouble. It seemed like too much of a coincidence to ignore. And you started seeing that P.E. guy. I knew something was up."

Clara had no idea why Danny played a role in this, but she was shocked at the fact that she hadn't thought about him in years. Good, old Danny Pink.

"So I did some research," the Doctor explained, "When I realized that the Erebos was attached to me, I immediately dropped you off at Targonia, knowing you'd be safe there. Earth wasn't an option. I knew that Earth was doomed because of me. Because of the Erebos."

Clara was still struggling to understand. "What exactly does it do, this shadow?"

"It destroys your life, Clara," he said simply, "There isn't much known about it apart from the fact that it is ancient and believed to be extinct. It knows your future, your hopes, your dreams, your fears and it uses all of that, turning it against you. Feeding off darkness to create more darkness."

"So you really left me on Targonia to protect me? Because you knew you loved Earth too much."

"Yes," the Doctor hissed, looking more anxious now, "And that's why you have to leave, Clara. You cannot stay here. The Erebos itself can't harm you, but it enables my enemies. I can't let anything happen to you."

"And the TARDIS? Why the visions I saw?"

"The Erebos is fused with the TARDIS now," the Doctor explained, running his fingers along the console unit, "She's fighting it off as best as she can, but she doesn't always win."

Clara suddenly felt the bag that was slung over her shoulder a little more heavily than before and she remembered the liquid Vastra had given her. Had she known about the shadow?

"Vastra gave me the liquid to kill you. But. . .," she paused, "If you regenerated, would it leave you?" Clara reluctantly looked up at him, feeling bad for even suggesting it.

"No," he shook his head slightly, "The Erebos is one with my time line now. Only permanent death would set it free. But I cannot let you kill me. If you killed me, the Erebos would immediately latch on to you and I will not let that happen."

So Vastra had known. And she had also known that Clara probably wouldn't return from her trip.

"I'm not that important. Certainly, if it was attached to me, it wouldn't do as much damage. You are the saviour of the universe, so it destroys the universe. But me, I'm nothing. We just have to find a way to transfer it to me without permanently killing you," Clara suggested.

"Under no circumstances!" the Doctor said sharply, "Even if there was a way, I will not let this thing ruin your life, and do not think that it would be easy. The Erebos would take away everything that you love, including your son, and that is why I really need you to leave. You are too important to me and the shadow knows it. Every second with me puts you in danger."

Clara sighed and placed her hands on the Doctor's shoulder.

"You spent 127 years alone, figuring out what this thing is and what it does. You can't do this alone, Doctor. I'm not leaving you and I'm not letting you abandon me again. All I care about is my son's safety and you said nothing will happen to him where is now. I will help you figure this out. For your sake and for that of the rest of the universe."

The Doctor opened his mouth in protest, but Clara was faster.

"And I will not take no for an answer."