Almost all the dialogue here is from the episode and is therefore not mine.
Summary: The Doctor (sort of) comforts Clara after she tries to destroy the TARDIS keys
Dark Water: Clara
Clara clasped her sweaty hand to her trembling lips as a gasp escaped. The tears that she had been fighting so hard to conceal began to leak from her eyes and trickle down her sticky cheeks. She stared into the bubbling lava behind her at the spot where the final TARDIS key had dissolved until her shaking legs gave out and she sank to her knees. "I'd say I'm sorry but I'd do it again," she sobbed, shaking her head. "I'd do it again." It was getting harder to breath and her chest was unbearably tight.
"What are you doing?" she suddenly demanded, looking up at the ever stoic, motionless Doctor. "Why are you just standing there? Do you understand what I have just done?" She couldn't understand why he wasn't reacting; he should be shouting at her, maybe even grabbing her roughly by her arms and throwing her against the now impenetrable phone box.
"Clara look in your hand," he instructed calmly.
"There's nothing in my hand," she sniffed miserably. "The keys, they're down there. They're gone. There's nothing in my hand!"
"Yes yes. Yes there is. Look," he insisted.
Clara obediently spread her arms and looked down at her right palm. A circular dream patch seemed to materialize out of the smoky air in front of her.
"Did you seriously think that was going to work on me," the Doctor scoffed at her. Clara stood up, shaking, refusing to look up into the Doctor's smug, disapproving face as he continued to reprimand her. "There not sleep patches. They induce a dream state." He walked forward and peeled the patch off her hand. Instantly, the simmering lava and black volcanic rocks vanished, replaced by a steamy TARDIS control room.
She stood, swaying slightly with exhaustion and tried to make her brain catch up with her eyes. "They make you very susceptible," the Doctor continued to lecture, picking up the keys that Clara had meant to destroy. "I allowed the scenario to play out just as you planned. I was curious about how far you would go."
Clara's stomach dropped at his words. Now he knew that she couldn't be trusted, that she would turn on a dime and betray him in desperation. He'd tell her to leave next, and she'd never see him again. "Well now you know," she stated dully.
"Yeah. Now I know," he agreed, leaning next to her on one of the side consoles.
"I love him," she told him bleakly.
In response, the Doctor flicked out his all-purpose omniscient screwdriver and waved it over her trembling body. "Yeah. You're quite the mess of chemicals aren't you," he observed, discarding the sonic carelessly and walking away from her.
Clara could hear him forcibly switching leavers and pounding buttons behind her. "So what now, you and me, what happens now?" she asked, dreading the reply. "Doctor?"
"Go to hell," he demanded.
She could no longer feel her shaking body. Her arms and legs were tingling unpleasantly and everything else was completely numb. Even her vision was blurring slightly, though that may have been the remanence of her tears. She had expected this, of course. It was what she deserved; but it still hurt to hear those three harsh, final words leave her former best friend's mouth. "Fair enough," she consented. "Absolutely fair enough."
Clara shuffled towards the door, head down. This was it. She had lost her boyfriend. She had lost her best mate. There was nothing left. Once she walked through those doors she would no longer be Clara Oswald, the impossible, universe-saving, time-traveling girl. She would just be Clara Oswald, the depressed and lonely school teacher.
But when she reached the doors the Doctor's voice halted her once more. "Clara?" he asked, clearly confused. She turned to face him, eyes shimmering with even more tears. "You asked me what we're going to do. I told you, we're going to hell. Or wherever it is people go when they die, if there is anywhere. Wherever it is we're going to go there and we're going to find Danny. And if it is in any way possible, we're going to bring him home. Almost every culture in the universe has some concept of an afterlife. I've always meant to have a look around, see if I could find one."
Clara stared at him for several long moments, processing what he had just said. Finally she summed up the courage to reply in a high, wavering voice. "You're going to help me?"
"Well why wouldn't I help you," the Doctor answered exasperatedly.
"Because of what I just did! I-"
"You betrayed me," the Doctor supplied. "You betrayed my trust you betrayed our friendship you betrayed everything that I've ever stood for. You let me down!"
"Then why are you helping me?" Clara asked softly.
"Why?" he repeated, walking towards her. "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?"
All of a sudden, it all became too much. The sorrow of loosing Danny still weighed on her chest like a ball-and-chain wrapped around her heart. But the wash of guilt, horror, shame, and hopeful relief that kept cycling through her in addition to the ever-present grief overloaded her entire system. She practically fell to the floor, legs curling beneath her, sobbing full-force.
Then a hesitant arm was draped lightly over her shoulder and Clara flopped into the Doctor's chest. He grunted in surprise but didn't push her away. She clutched at his velvet coat and let the tears she had been holding back for so long pour out. The Doctor continued to hold her and pat her back, albeit awkwardly, as she cried herself out.
Finally, when she had no tears left and the shivers had almost subsided, she looked up into her friend's concerned face. "Are you finished?" he inquired, though is voice was soft and not accusatory or impatient. Clara nodded. "Good. We have work to do. This is it Clara, one of those moments."
"What moments?"
"The Darkest day. The blackest hour." He pulled her to her feet and set a hand on each of her shoulders. "Chin up. Shoulders back. Let's see what we're made of. You and I." He smiled reassuringly before turning suddenly and darting back to the central console. "And deflate your eyes while you're at it. I don't understand how you can even do that. I need skeptical, clever, critical. I don't need mopey. It puts years on your face."
Clara smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time since Danny's accident. It was small and tentative, but it was there. The Doctor had managed to do the impossible once again; he relit the fire of passion and adventure in her soul. She shook herself mentally and nodded. "Bring it on."
Thoughts? I wanted to make it different than the other interpretations out there and I tried to go heavy on all of the feels so let me know if I succeeded. I'm planning on having the Doctors POV of the same scene soon.
Also, I'm trying to come up with something at the end of Death in Heaven for TVH Bookfan, but I'm not sure what you mean by "weird side effects." And I'm brainstorming on request fromdeathcab135; you have not been forgotten.
