"Would you like to see it?"
Clara blinked, her eyes readjusting to the normal lighting in the TARDIS. Contar was on his knees, breathing out hard, a blue glow in his eyes fading. The Doctor was already back at the console, checking the TARDIS had closed securely. Contar pushed himself up to his feet, a smile spreading across his face. He looked at the Doctor. "What?" he asked.
"I said: would you like to see it?" the Doctor repeated himself matter-of-factly. He didn't seem at all bothered about anything that had just happened. Clara watched him anxiously and silently. She had no idea if he had anything left up his sleeve. Contar cocked his head to the side: "See what?" The Doctor spun round to face him, dramatically waving his hands in the air as he did: "Your brave new world. I programmed the time-space co-ordinates while you were recovering. Duraxia, as you remade it, is right outside those doors."
If you weren't paying attention, it would seem the Doctor had regained his usual flair and energy, and that nothing was wrong. But Clara was paying attention. And the Doctor wasn't smiling. Contar was too busy staring at the wooden double doors though, wondering what lay on the other side. "Yes," he said slowly, "I would very much like to see it."
The Doctor snapped his fingers and the doors opened. Contar Smitt stepped outside onto his home planet for the first time in so long. A grin spread across his face wider than Clara had ever seen as he stepped out and saw his world. He started to laugh.
Duraxia was beautiful. Huge towering buildings, streets full of families laughing, a bright crimson sky. It was everything he'd hoped for. "We've landed right in the middle of Duraxia's golden age," the Doctor announced like a tour guide as he and Clara stepped out to join him. Contar turned back to them, still smiling: "Golden age?"
The Doctor forced a sympathetic smile. "The Jarlatons never existed. A new history is clicking into place. Give it a second." Contar laughed again: "I'll give it a whole minute if you like." Clara looked at the Doctor concerned. The Doctor closed his eyes, feeling the ripples of time.
"There was no war between the Duraxians and the Jarlatons. So, two soldiers never met on the battlefield. And they never conceived a child together. So, their daughter Sofie never existed."
Contar's smile fell. He looked at the Doctor in horror, stepping towards him. Clara felt her heart sink as she realised what was happening. Time was adjusting. And Time was not kind.
"And if you wife was never born, then I'm afraid your children never were either. They're lost like the Jarlatons."
"No," Contar breathed out, "but I remember them. I remember them!"
"That memory will fade. Time always wins."
"Doctor…" Clara tried to interrupt but he stopped her.
"With no war against the Jarlatons to unite them, the Duraxians went to war with each other. Decades of civil war tore the planet apart. They were resolved two years ago, and Duraxia entered its golden age. A lot of soldiers died on the battlefield first."
Contar looked down as he felt blood trickling from his chest. His torso was suddenly riddled with bullet holes, and he felt his strength leaving him. He fell to his knees, no laughter now. "What's happening to me?"
The Doctor's eyes clicked open: "You died on the battlefield. I really am sorry. I did warn you."
Clara dropped to her knees, putting her hand on Contar's shoulder. The Doctor stayed stood where he was. "I told you," he said quietly, "you can't change history. Not one line. Because if you do, Time has a habit of getting you back." Contar wasn't listening to the Doctor anymore though, he was staring at Clara. "Yalia…" he whispered. She didn't correct him.
"Will I see them again? If they didn't exist, then will I see my family again when I die?"
"Yes," Clara said, "of course you'll see them again."
He stared back at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "See who again?"
Then the life dropped from his body, and his eyes stared into death, and Clara was left holding a corpse.
She looked over to the Doctor, but the Doctor had already turned away and was pushing open the doors of the TARDIS once more. For a moment, she thought he was going to leave her there. Then he turned back to her at the last second and smiled: "Come on," he said gently, "Scarf festival."
Clara took one last look at the Duraxian lying dead in the street. She closed his eyes, it seemed more peaceful that way, then she got to her feet and she followed the Doctor into the TARDIS.