Clara was sore from all the walking, therefore she made no effort to move from where she stood. As if he could read her mind, the Doctor lifted her by her torso and took her outside, ignoring the perplexed look on Dave's face as he laid her in the couch, making a mountain of pillows where she could properly rest her leg.

Clumsily, he kneeled down next to her, just so he could be at the same height as her. He hated how sad her eyes looked. "You want to tell me what's bothering you?"

She shook her head, focusing her eyes on the Doctor rather than on her father tripping out of the TARDIS. "It's nothing, I'm… I'm fine."

The Doctor moved her hair locks away from her face, rubbing her applecheeks with the tip of his thumb. "You're not fine, Clara. Look at yourself, so terrified, so scared. Admitting a downfall doesn't make you any weaker."

Clara's hand touched his own, cupping her face with it. "It's silly."

"Silly or human ?" he hinted, feeling her pulse against her own, knowing their hearts to be beating at the same rate.

She glanced at their joined hands, just so she wouldn't have to sustain the eye contact. "I… I don't think I can ride a car again."

Her tone was uncertain, and he understood. She was scared of dying - and he couldn't blame her. "Do you want a new bike? I can fetch you another one from the TARDIS."

She shook her head, frightenedly. "I don't think I can ride a bike, either."

The Doctor brought her knuckles to his lips. "You don't have to be ashamed of being scared, Clara."

"No?" she pondered, so innocently, so much like a child's plead.

"No," he reassured her, "Because I'll give you lifts for as long as you need them."

She smiled. It wasn't big, but it genuinely existed. "Thank you, Doctor."

He knew her gratitude wasn't just towards the lifts, it was for so much more. It was for being there for her.

They were both interrupted by a despaired Dave walking back into the living room. "It was noon when we got inside that—thing! And it's night! The sun is completely gone from the sky!"

The Doctor whistled in annoyance. He was doomed a conversation with his time machine about how she should never mess with time when there were strangers aboard. "Congratulations," he mumbled, "You're officially twelve hours younger than your timestream."

"Clara?!" Dave roared, completely ignoring the hint of sarcasm on the other's man voice. "What is going on? Who the hell is this man? What on Earth is that telephone booth? Clara?!"

She tried to get up, but judged it was best to remain lying down after the look the alien man offered her. "Dad, calm down. This is the Doctor, a dear friend of mine."

"Yes, I've met him before," the father spat out, "That doesn't explain who he is."

Clara frowned, her brain only comprising his first sentence. For all she recollected, they hadn't run across each other at all during her stay at the hospital. She eyed the Doctor suspiciously, demanding explanations, which he was sure to provide, "I tried to talk him into letting me take you somewhere where I could heal you. He thought I was planning tomurder you instead, so, next time, please leave him a note to always listen to the Doctor."

Her mouth shaped an oh and she swallowed hard. She didn't know why she was so surprised; of course the Doctor would have tried to save her without so many future consequences. The father didn't let the silence prevail for long, "Clara, you were under the best care in London. Would you really want me to endanger your life by letting you off with some old bloke I had never seen before?"

Clara sighed, unsure whether to stare at the Doctor or at the father; she stared at neither. "Yes, I would, actually. But it doesn't matter anymore, so please just drop it."

Dave simply couldn't. "Who the hell is that man?"

Haphazardly, Clara entwined her fingers around the alien's. "This is the Doctor," she repeated, "He's not human; he's a 2000 years old alien man from an ancient civilization in a galaxy far away. And that," she pointed at the blue box, "Is the TARDIS. She's a spaceship in disguise, she travels through time and space. Oh, and she's obviously bigger on the inside."

Dave fell down in the armchair, clearly struggling to swallow it all in. "How… How did you two meet again?"

The Doctor rubbed his thumb against the smooth skin of her hand. "Fate brought us together," he declared, judging better than to explain how he had run into echoes of his daughter before meeting the actual her – he presumed he would be extra mad over the fact that his daughter had sacrificed herself in order to save him, even if he had managed to get her back to life. "Now we travel the universe together."

He rested his head on his palm, processing everything. "How dangerous is it?"

"Very dangerous," the Doctor was merciless, "But no more dangerous than what happens right here down on Earth."

He locked eyes with Clara, worry written all over his face. "Now that you're disabled, you're quitting on this madness, right?!"

Despite protests, Clara moved to a sitting position, her eyes burning with fire. "I am not disabled, daddy. I might be wounded, scarred even, but I will not let my condition get in the way of living my life. As long as the Doctor allows me, I will carry on traveling the stars. I will carry on living. "

The Doctor placed his hand on her back, simultaneously trying to support her and to get her to lie back down. She was too stubborn, however, to follow his inclination, not to his astonishment. "You know you're welcome aboard the TARDIS as long as you'd like, Clara."

Dave got back up, angrily, his footsteps heavy against the floor. "Why are you encouraging this erratic behavior of hers? Why am I the only one sane here?"

"Don't worry, you're just as sane as I am," the alien grunted, causing Clara to chuckle. Their Harry Potter marathon a few weeks before had been worth something, at least. "Listen, Clara is a strong independent woman. She's capable of making her own choices and dealing with the consequences of them; she knows what's best for herself. I will support whatever her decision might be, and if she chooses the life amongst the stars, then I'll bring down the stars for her, if it comes to it."

Dave ran his hand through his hair, trying to block from his vision how her dimple came to life at his last sentence. "Don't I at least get a saying?"

"Of course you do, you're my dad," she clarified, leaning against the Doctor, who was now sitting right behind her, due to her silent request.

"Then, for the record, I am completely against you wandering off the universe with some alien-human guy," he snorted, crossing his arms.

"Noted," she bounced her head, "And he's not human, he just resembles one. He's even got an extra heart. Here, feel it for yourself."

The Doctor caught her wrists just before she touched his chest. He couldn't let her feel his hearts, not ever again. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around offering my chest to unacquainted people, Clara."

"Right, sorry," she quickly apologized, tugging herself back into his embrace.

Dave sunk down the chair once more, another thought suddenly coming to his mind, "What happened to my car?"

"It's still where you left it," the Doctor shuddered.

"My keys were still in the ignition."

His straight face turned into a frown. "Then it probably isn't where you left it anymore."

"Doctor," Clara scolded him, all that she meant implicit within her tone.

He wrinkled his nose, "Fine, I'll take you back in time to retrieve it."

"Thank you," Clara claimed on her father's behalf.

The Doctor nodded, neither of them willing to make the effort to leave each other's embrace.