Clara could tell when something shifted. It was subtle but pervasive, like when someone opens a window in a nearby room. The fresh air, the chill, the noise from outside, filling the room in ways that are hard to pin down but impossible not to notice.

At first she believed the change was in the structure of the TARDIS. Her path was unchanged though, and when she found herself back in the same intersection for the seventy-third time, Clara realized that the open window wasn't in the TARDIS so much as in her mind.

"I remember," she said, laughing with relief. "I remember where I've been, oh my God, it's back. He's done it." She hesitated. "Whatever it is."

Ultimately, Clara decided to shrug it off. Everything would be explained when she got back to the Doctor, or at least, most things. Enough things.

She sagged with relief at the sight of the door into the main console room. Pushing it open, she called out, "You've done it, then? Fought them off?"

"Yes, yes, they're all gone," he said, waving a hand. "Or we've gone, at least, which amounts to the same thing."

It took her a moment to find him, sitting against the console with his back to her. "So… we've taken off?"

"Yep. Land-lock is broken, TARDIS shields are back up, and we are currently floating in deep space, a million million miles away from any kind of planetary anything." He pulled himself to his feet, grinning at her. "Relaxing, isn't it?"

"Mmm." Her grin dying on her lips, Clara walked slowly into the room, one hand trailing lightly along the railing. "How'd you do it?"

"Distracted them."

"What, all of them at once?" She raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Not bad."

"Yes, well, I'm very clever. You should try it sometime."

Now the other eyebrow went up. "Oh, we're being insulting, are we?" Clara paused, eyeing him. "What happened that you're not telling me?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. I'm just very good at my job. See, that's the thing about magic," he added before she could speak, "it's all on the individual person. If you mess up, if you let emotion or feelings or fear get in the way, the whole thing falls to bits. With science, you've got other things to rely on, other constants. Things outside of personal faults."

"You're saying emotions are faults?" asked Clara sharply.

The Doctor shook her off. "I'm saying, Time Lords don't have to worry about any of that. All that… fiddly stuff, all the human-type stuff. Don't need it. Don't bother with it. It's all science and logic and cleverness."

His companion sniffed. "I'll believe that when I see it." There was something else, something he was still hiding, but she could tell there was no getting it out of him now. Better to move on. "So what next, then?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Go pick a star. Whatever you want."

The change of subject was noted, and, if the Doctor was honest with himself, greatly appreciated. The memories, those memories, never fully disappeared, never properly faded. Twelve hundred years… It was easier, sometimes, to forget and push them away. Having everything brought up again, all at once… well, it didn't help much.

Still, though, he wouldn't trade them in for anything. Usually.

"What, just like that?" Clara asked, a little incredulous. "What about that mysterious woman, back on Nowhere? Who stole that little girl's power? You're just not going to do anything about it?"

"Not my problem." The Doctor held up his hands in an open shrug. "I haven't got a signal, haven't got any way to track her down, and to be honest, I'm not sure that mysterious woman ever existed in the first place."

"You think the King just made it up?" demanded Clara.

"I think she did it all herself," he answered, strangely calm. He walked past her, going to a different panel on the console.

"Why?"

The Doctor threw up his hands. "Because she knows she's stronger with others and you, Clara Oswald, are incredibly strong. Because she was bored and had too much coffee. I don't know."

"Yes you do. Why?" She was relentless.

There was a pause, then he sighed. "Because she can't be alone. Because no one on that planet can ever be alone, even when they have to be. Do you see the lengths people will go to just to feel like they belong?"

"But you're not sure," Clara pointed out.

"No," he agreed heavily, facing away from her. "I'm not."

Clara nodded, taking that in. "Is that why you keep us around?" she asked suddenly. "People like me, your companions. Because you know you're stronger with someone else?"

Now he turned to look at her, and his eyes were suddenly so old she took a step back. "Clara, my Clara. I keep you around because I can't bear to be alone, knowing what I'm missing."

She felt her breath catch, wondered how often in his long life he'd been alone. "Well, good thing I'm here, then, yeah?"

The Doctor glanced down, smiled. "Yeah. Good thing."

"And I'm not going to leave you," she added, pressing forward. "I'm not going to let you be alone."

He chuckled sadly. "Clara, when you've lived as long as I have, you learn not to make promises like that. You can't ever keep them, not how you'd like. When a promise like that gets broken…"

There was a pause, one so long she wasn't sure he was going to answer. "What?"

The Doctor's eyes were far off and unseeing, light years and centuries away. "It destroys you."


"And just one mistake is all it will take

To go down in history

Remember me for centuries-"

A fist slammed down on a button, shutting the music off abruptly. "Centuries," the owner of the fist muttered. "What do they know?"

"Self pity again?" The voice came from behind her, but she couldn't be bothered to turn around.

"Leave me alone, will you?"

"You used to love that song," her companion said, picking idly at the fraying ends of her dress. "You always said it reminded you how much potential there was in a single life."

The woman sniffed. "Back on Earth. That was a century or two ago itself, wasn't it? Back when I had a single life." She shook her head. "Who am I kidding? I've never had one single life. I've been living a double life since before I was born."

Staring out the window at the endless panorama of stars, she added, "It might have been encouraging once, but now it feels more like a warning. Like I'm being scolded. What have I done with my life? What mistakes have I made, am I making?" She paused. "Who will remember me?"

"Who, indeed," the other woman murmured. Her eyes flashed a brilliant gold. "Who, indeed."


A.N: Muahaha. Do I have your attention yet? Good. Guys, we're like a quarter of the way there! I've unofficially split this story into four parts, and this concludes the first one. I wrote this in one night, which hasn't happened in a while. I finally got access to watching Doctor Who again, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed it. Very motivational. Thanks all for reading, and a Happy New Year!

-Forever the Optimist