"Ready to go then?" the Doctor asked cheerfully as Clara piled the last of her belongings on the floor of the control room. "Any place in particular?"
"Doctor, wait a moment, would you?" Clara asked, crossing over to stand beside him.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently. He expected her to be a bit sad about leaving the Maitland's, but her eyes seemed more somber than was warranted.
"Before we go, I need you to promise me something."
"Anything," he said instantly, and without thought. How could he refuse her anything after what she'd done for him?
Clara pulled an envelope from her red bag. It was addressed to her father. "I need you to promise me, if anything happens to me out there, you'll come back and tell my dad. I could have died at Trenzalore, and he would never have known what happened to me. I can't do that to him."
"Clara," the Doctor began slowly, "I hope you realize by now that if you are ever really and truly dead somewhere out there, the chances are excellent that I will already be dead myself."
"I do know that, but I've seen all of your lives, and I know that sometimes, things happen…people are lost, or even decide to go their own way. Just…if you possibly can…come back and tell my dad, all right? Don't let him spend the rest of his life wondering what the hell happened to me."
He reached out and cradled her face in his hand. "I promise."
Clara took a step forward and slipped her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she breathed against his waistcoat.
He picked up the envelope after Clara had gone off to settle into her room and tucked it into a storage compartment on the console. He prayed with all his hearts to anyone who might be listening that he'd never, ever have to make that particular visit.