I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I was busy replying to some writing prompts on Tumbler (also posted them on here if you're interested). Hope you enjoy the new chapter though and thank you very, very much for the reviews ;)

Chapter 11

The Doctor closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. He felt as if everything around him was slowly spinning out of control, collapsing and there was nothing he could do to hold it together. It had started with Clara Oswald, the damned Clara Oswald. The patient he had allowed to get too close, the patient he had allowed to touch his heart. All those hours listening to her stories, enjoying the adoration she held for her Doctor, the Doctor that wasn't him no matter how hard he wanted to believe it. He had to do something about her. She was ill and in need of help and he didn't know how to help her.

"Honey?" Missy's voice interrupted his train of thoughts, "Is everything alright?"

It took him a moment to realize that he was at home and no longer in the hospital. He needed to stop thinking about Clara Oswald, at least for now.

"Yes," he lied. He had kissed his patient. Missy cocked her head and he felt like she knew all about it.

"It's late," she approached him, "Why don't you come to bed?"

Missy stepped closer and leaned against him, pressing his back to the front door. She slipped her fingers up his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. When the Doctor closed his eyes he saw Clara. Kissing Clara. Devouring her with his mouth. Running his fingers through her hair. No, this had to stop. She was his patient, his mentally ill patient. He should have never kissed Clara in the first place.

"What's wrong?" Missy demanded to know when he had pulled away from her, "Don't you want me?"

The Doctor sighed. Yes, he wanted her and he also wanted Clara, but the strangest of feelings was that this wanting seemed like a completely new and strange emotion that he hadn't know before. Every time he tried sorting it out in his head it ceased to make sense.

"Come to bed, darling," she whispered and leaned in to kiss him again. This time the Doctor didn't fight the images of Clara flooding his mind as she dragged him into the bedroom. In fact, he revelled in them while Missy undressed him and he imagined kissing every inch of his patient's skin. Yet no matter how hard he tried, it didn't quite feel like making love to Clara.

OOO

"Don't be alarmed," the familiar voice said softly behind her back. Clara knew she would find Danny staring back into her face when she turned around. She didn't know how or why he kept coming back, he was dead and his spirit seemed to haunt her.

"Go away, Danny. You're not real," she uttered into her pillow, "Just go far, far away."

"I didn't come here to hurt you. And I'm sorry about earlier," Danny said and stepped closer, stopping right next to her bed, "Please, look at me."

He sounded sincere but Clara was still afraid to look. She had only caught a glimpse of him earlier and he had looked normal. No Cyberman suit, just Danny, like he was before the accident. Only she knew he was dead. He couldn't be here, no matter how hard she wished for it. She had seen so many things during her travels with the Doctor, but ghosts hadn't been one of them.

"What do you want?" Clara asked, "Why do you keep coming back? You should be dead."

She finally turned around to look. There he was, her boyfriend Danny. He looked completely normal. Weary, sad, but normal, like he had just finished a hard day at school and had come home to be with her. Clara wanted so much for him to be real just so she could wrap her arms around him one more time.

Danny took another step forward and sat down on her bed next to Clara, his eyes never leaving her.

"What do you think? I've missed you," he said.

"But. . . earlier. You blamed me for your death."

"I'm sorry. I was angry. This ghost thing is still new to me," he apologized and it sounded sincere.

Clara had so many questions on her mind and she wished she could ask the Doctor about them. She had never thought such a thing as ghosts existed.

"Are you really here?" Clara asked carefully.

In reply Danny reached out for her hand. Her first instinct was to pull it away, but he was too fast. When she felt the calming warmth of his skin she finally relaxed and a moment later threw her arms around him. It felt so good being close to him again, being able to touch him and talk to him and for a moment she completely forgot about where she was and what had brought her here. All Clara wanted was to be in his embrace and that it would never end. Tears were running down her cheeks and she didn't know whether she was crying out of joy or grief.

"Never leave me again. Do you hear me? Never!" she said in between sobs.

"I can't stay, Clara, and you know that. All of this, it's not real."

"What?" she asked in surprise and let go of Danny to look at him, "What makes you say that?"

"Clara, you and I both know that you're not crazy. We both know the Doctor is not a psychiatrist and this woman, the one from the graveyard, she's not his assistant," he said as if it should be obvious.

"Yeah, I know, but. . . this is real. She did something to him. She put me here."

"Is it? Is it real?" he asked back, raising an eyebrow.

His question made Clara frown. "Well, what else could it be?"

"You're dreaming, Clara," Danny said gently and took her hand in his again, "This is nothing but a nightmare. Ghosts don't exist in real life. You need to wake up, love."

Love. He had never called her that before. He wasn't really the type for nicknames.

"What do I do?" she inquired, determination slowly coming back to her voice.

"Well, how do you usually wake up from a nightmare?"

Clara hesitated.

"I die," she whispered after a long pause. Was he really proposing that she should kill herself?

Danny let go of her hand and reached inside his pocket. Only a few seconds later he pulled out a bottle of pills and handed them to Clara.

"Those are sleeping pills," she realized, looking at the bottle, "You stole them from the ward."

"It's completely painless. It will just feel like falling asleep. And when you wake up, everything is going to be alright," Danny told her in a calming voice.

"But what if this isn't a dream at all?" Clara wanted to know, trying not to sound too scared.

"What else could it be?"

"Yeah, what else," she whispered, "Even if it's not. At least I'll be with you again."