When she returned upstairs, arms full, the Doctor had nearly finished dismantling most of her belongings. Eggs was sitting in the corner, eyeing the room mournfully. Clara wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to get in there through the tiny window, and thought she'd really rather not know. The Doctor eyed her spoils.

"Chunky Monkey and..." he sniffed the air experimentally, "cold chow mein?"

"We're out of tea," she said shortly. His culinary choices didn't give him much moral ground. At all. She eyed the disastrous room before sitting with a huff on the box spring. The Doctor's eyes widened as she dumped what was left of the pint of ice cream into the take-away container.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all Clara," he quickly replied. He tried to scan her surreptitiously with the sonic, but she saw straight through that.

"Don't worry Doctor, I haven't had that much of a social life lately." To her everlasting embarrassment she felt her eyes tearing up.

"Oh no, no no no, Clara, no don't cry, you can have your chow mein sundae, that's perfectly normal, not weird at all, I hear they're eating that in America all the time. Along with peanut butter straight from the jar! Please don't cry now, and I'll make you fish fingers in the TARDIS to go with it all! Well, I'll really just reheat them but I'll do all the clean up, just please get in the TARDIS!"

Clara couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. Then she was laughing and crying at the same time. It was all just so ridiculous. Eggs whirred nervously.

"You, hush." Clara gestured with the spoon in her good hand, the one not covered in Band-Aids. "You, sit," she told the Doctor, patting the box spring beside her.

"Yes, boss."

Clara glared at him a moment through her damp eyes before relenting. Suddenly very tired, she rested her head against his shoulder. It felt nice there. The Doctor hesitated, then put a cautious arm across her shoulders.

"Okay, Doctor, what's really going on? What are you so frightened of? What's so different now than before? What's so special about a note in Gallifreyan?"

"Clara...nobody just anyone can read or write Gallifreyan. Even the TARDIS doesn't translate it. Only other Time Lords."

"Apparently not. I can, well...I sort of can."

"Yes, and we're going to have a long talk about that later. But you, Impossible Girl, are as always a special case."

"And River."

The Doctor half smiled. "River is also a special case." He was silent for a second. "But nobody else on this planet at this time should be able to send you a note written in Gallifreyan. Only a Time Lord."

"And you're the last of the Time Lords."

"And I'm the last of the Time Lords."

Clara thought hard. "So...maybe you're not the only Time Lord out there? Maybe someone else..?" she trailed off at the strain in his face.

"That, Clara, is what I am very much afraid of."

She frowned. "But more of your people could be out there! That's a good thing, isn't it?"

The Doctor's lips were white. "Clara, not all the Time Lords are..."

"Nice?"

"Definitely not nice." He rested his chin against the top of her head. "Since I..."She felt him swallow hard. "Since Gallifrey was destroyed, I have only encountered one of my people. Well, he nearly brought back the whole Council, but I think you know that story." Clara nodded. She wasn't sure if Martha knew how much she remembered of the year that never was. It wasn't the sort of thing you talked about when someone was sticking you full of needles.

"But maybe someone else escaped?"

"Then why hasn't he contacted me? Clara, he...or she...knows who you are, knows where to find you... He's playing games with me, and I'm sorry, Clara, I'm so very sorry, but I can't let you stay here and be a target or a pawn anymore. I know you want to be independent and self sufficient, but Clara, you're not. You haven't been for a long time. You haven't been well for a long time, and I don't care."

The Doctor shifted off of the box spring to kneel in front of her, forcing her to look at him. "Clara, your worth to me and to the universe is not dependent on how well you can brush your problems away and take care of yourself and everyone else. It's okay to let us take care of you for a change. We can all take care of each other."

Clara sat there in shock, not sure if she was angry or relieved or...something else.

"My ice cream is melting," she said in a small voice.

"I'll get you more. In the blue box. Now."

"Eggs."

"You too."