Clara could hardly keep herself together - she was dying of laughter on the inside at the jokes the men around her exchanged. She was in the banquet hall of a Medieval Castle, holding a golden gauntlet over a table piled with food. A balet was being sung at the top of a man's lungs, and the other people looked gleeful, as if they'd never experienced dark times. On the other hand at the side of Clara, the Doctor sat with his head buried in his folded arms, completely annoyed by the celebration for Rasilon knew what.

"Clara, when I asked if you wanted to fly the TARDIS to go around bantering with other Robin Hoods, I wasn't implying that we should!" the grouch grumbled, not lifting his head. Clara heard that, and gave the Doctor a hit (though not too hard) on the back.

"Ah, quit being such a down-trodder!"

"If I do, would you stop their laughing, please?" He really had his regrets about teaching his companion how to fly through time and space. He should have just stopped at "how to get home."

Clara ignored his plea, breaking into a gigantic laugh at the most ridiculous excuse of a joke the Doctor had ever heard.

Days later, blasts of smoke spewed from a building as shellfire pelted the ground - much more like it for the Doctor, though he had a nagging sense of fear deep within.

Ray guns sounded behind the impossible girl, who was running for her life, terrified. She stopped behind a tire tower, looking back for her friend with absolute worry. Finally, he appeared, spotting her and hurrying to her side. Clara shouted, "When are we!?," squinting against the dust coming her direction.

"Approximately 1943!" the Doctor cried out over the shots.

"Really!? World War Two!?"

"Yes! This way!" the man led the way back to his blue box, running.

Clara followed hurriedly, hoping hard that they wouldn't get shot. "But there are ray guns! Whoa!" Immediately she was yanked by the arm into the TARDIS, into safety.

"Opinion - a lot more entertaining than some merry man's stupid little dance!" the Doctor went on, never letting that embarrassing moment down. Catching Clara's warning glare, he suggested, "Even still, best that we should get out of here."

And next thing she knew, Clara was face-to-face with a Weeping Angel only hours later. As soon as Clara and the Doctor got out of this mess, they went on to the next mess, which involved an overgrown ivy vine and a dragon. Gradually it seemed that Clara was becoming the better driver, and she constantly bickered with the Doctor over this matter. Clara admitted, this incarnation of the Doctor was a lot handier with the ship than his previous incarnation, but lately he seemed to be lacking in skills, amd Clara advancing.

One day, Clara was in her living room, grading papers, boredly. Basically, she was waiting for the Doctor to take her on a trip, or train her a little more, when she got a call from the man himself.

"Hello," she answered, wondering why he'd called. He never called her - Clara always called him. Which got Clara to thinking. "Everything okay?"

"No. Nothing's okay," the Doctor answered her, sounding completely distressed. Something was obviously very wrong. "Oh, Clara! Nothing's okay!"

Clara stood up, scared for her friend. She rubbed her free hand through her hair, as if that would do any good. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

"I don't know!" his voice was strained, only making Clara's fear worse. She waiting, hearing her heart pump in her chest. "Everything's just wrong!"

"Okay, okay, okay." Clara began to pace in efforts to calm herself down. "Try coming over here and I'll see if I can help." She was absolutely frightened. She had no idea how she could help, but she'd do whatever she could to fix whatever was wrong. What scared her was that even the Doctor didn't know what was happening. "Are you hurting?" Clara felt like that was a stupid question, because he in fact sounded like he was in absolute agony, but you never knew with him, so she hurried to her medicine cabinet, opening the door.

"You can't help me. Especially not with pudding brain medicine. Time lords have a much more complex metabolism than little human beings. You're all like grass - you just need fertilizer to grow nice and green."

Okay. So he wasn't too hurt to insult the entire human race. After he pointed out the differences in metabolism, Clara shut the cabinet door. "Great. Well, come over here anyway."

"I can't!"

This was really getting on Clara's nerves. "Listen, I'm not letting you die in your TARDIS when I can probably do one thing to help you if nothing else!" She really didn't want to say the next part, but it was too important. "And if I can't do anything, I'm not going to sit here and let you die alone."

"No, Clara! When I say 'I can't,' I don't mean I don't want to save my life. I mean I literally can't. That's what's wrong." He stopped to catch his breath, a moment of suspenseful silence. "Clara...I can't fly the TARDIS anymore."

"What do you mean?" Though Clara had a strong feeling what he meant, though she had to be sure. Surely he hadn't forgotten how to fly his own TARDIS? It had happened before, when he had regenerated nearly a year before, but the Doctor had been in the post-regeneration process. So what was happening now?

"I've forgotten how," he explained more quietly - the kind of quiet that wasn't a good sign in Clara's terms. "Very embarrassing." His voice was breathless now.

"Doctor!" Clara started, knowing exactly how to help now. "I know how to get to my apartment from the TARDIS. Listen to me carefully." She listed the process step by step, and in no time, the TARDIS was fading into Clara's living room, much to the Impossible Girl's relief. Looked like training her to fly the TARDIS was useful after all.

The Doctor opened one of the TARDIS doors and stepped out, Clara standing there ready for him. He really did look like he was in an awful state, obviously tired and feeling weak. It made Clara's heart lurch to see her best friend in so much pain, but at least he was where he could be safe. "Alright. Need help getting to the couch?"

"Clara, I'm fine," he told her with an eyeroll, which relived Clara a tiny bit. He was still there. The Doctor made his way towards the couch and laid down, and Clara met him there, kneeling beside him.

"Okay. Tell me everything, because I am very confused," she spat out in one breath, her eyes busily scanning the time lord's face, as if the lines in it contained the answers.

The Doctor seemed to search his own mind, but seemed to find nothing. "I don't know," he answered softly. "It's like, my memory, it's not there anymore."

"What do you mean?" the question was probably useless but Clara had to try. Every bit of information counted. She thought for a second. "What /do/ you remember? I'm a start."

"Well, there's your number. A few of my companions."

"Name them."

"The Ponds. Sarah. Ian. Ace..." He tried to remember more, there was a name at the tip of his tongue. "Tulip? Some sort of flower. Like a tulip but not a tulip -"

"Rose," Clara answered, nodding her head. "Rose Tyler. Anybody else?"

The Doctor began to think, but suddenly closed his eyes tight from pain. "56% of memory left!"

Horrified, Clara stood up, taking a step back. She turned around, at a loss of what to do. Then her eyes fell on the TARDIS, and an idea popped into her head. She whipped around and bent down towards the coffee table where she'd set her phone, picking it up and fumbling with it. She took the passcode off and went to the contacts, changing The Doctor's contact name to "Best Helpline Out There." When she was finished Clara handed the phone to the time lord. "Here. If anything happens, call that number."

The Doctor took the phone weakly and stared at the screen, reading the words. Clara then realized he might forget to operate the phone, and searched around for a paper and a pencil. Her sticky note pad and a blue pen would have to do. She jotted down the steps and stuck the notes to the coffee table. "There. Everything you need is right there." With this, she headed for the TARDIS. "Remember! Call that number if anything goes wrong!"

"But Clara -"

Too late. The impossible girl was already in the TARDIS, embarking on an impossible mission, though she'd done it before - save the Doctor.