AN: Thank you to all the followers and favorites on this story, and thanks for all the love and support! I'm glad you're all enjoying this story as much as I am :) This chapter is after Into the Dalek. Not really one of my faves this season, except for a few choice quotes. Enjoy, though!

The Doctor was reminded, as always, how fleeting human life was. It never ceased to bring him immense distress and pain, especially when it led to him thinking over his companions. He knew as soon as Journey set foot onto his TARDIS that people would die. He knew it in his bones, mostly because the universe was never that kind to him, barely gave him days where everyone lived.

He also knew it because everything he touched turned to dust. This was the very reason he didn't want to touch Clara Oswald. Look what had happened with Rose, after all. The very instant he gave in to his feelings, he had to let her go.

He also knows he can't do this without her. It's why he shows up with coffees three weeks after their first, even though they used to have a strict Wednesday schedule. All it takes is a few words here and there, and they're off.

What he isn't expecting, even though he wanted Clara Oswald to be completely honest to him to the point of brutality is exactly that.

She tells him he's not a good man. It shouldn't sting as much as it does, but oh, he always wants his companions to think the best of him. Especially her, especially Rose.

"You are a good Da-lek."

He had let Clara off right where he'd gotten her, Coal Hill School, but all he wanted was to be back in her company. He tried to be a good man for her, and she could tell.

That was the last thing she said to him before she stepped out of the ship in new clothes.

With his mind made up, the Doctor flipped the switches and levers to dematerialize and landed in Clara's flat. He didn't have to wait long before a tentative knock sounded on the door, and he said, "Come in."

He was greeted by the sight of Clara in her pajamas. She looked her most young and vunerable when her face was free from her makeup, her hair piled on top of her head in a knot, and reading glasses perched on her nose.

"Back so soon?" she teased, but he could see the corners of her mouth tilting into a smile and also concern.

"Can't stay away," he said with mirth.

"What is it?" she asked immediately, tucking the glasses into her vest top pocket and crossing the room to him. "What's happened to you? How long's it been?"

"It's only been a few minutes," he managed to say. "I just-" The Doctor slammed his eyes shut at the embarrassing nature of needing her.

"What?" Clara asked softly, placing a hand on his coat covered arm.

"Doesn't matter," he said gruffly.

"You're hurting," she mused.

This made him open his eyes. How could she know?

She laughed at him, like she could read his thoughts. "You know I know when that is. I've seen all of your faces, Doctor. Some hurting more than the last."

He still didn't say anything.

"You know," she continued gently. "I meant what I said. That Dalek was wrong. You wouldn't make a good Dalek."

"What use are emo-tions if you will not save the wo-man you love!"

"No," he said harshly, pushing her hand away from him. "The Dalek was right. I am complete rubbish at saving people. All I do is kill, all I do is-"

Clara crushed him against her in a fierce hug. "All you do is save the universe," she reminded him firmly. "Never asking for anything in return."

He pushed her away again, this time a little too forcefullly, making her clutch the jumpseat for support.

"You don't get it, Clara," he grit out. "Everything I touch turns to dust. Rose-"

"Rose?" she asked confusedly. "Is she one of your past companions?"

The Doctor cursed at himself. "She's- listen, Clara. One day, I'm going to get too comfortable with you, and then you're going to leave me, because the universe never lets me have a reprieve from the constant running and suffering."

"I cause you suffering?" she asked, eyes welling with tears.

He sighed. "Not what I meant."

"Tell me, then," Clara insisted. "Tell me why you're here."

"Because I needed you, okay?" he said sharply. "Is that what you've been waiting for me to admit, Clara? Now, I'll just go and leave you, since it's obvious I'm making a complete bloody fool of both of us."

The silence was a tangible thing in the console room. Clara studied him, arms crossing over her chest. "That's not fair," was what she said.

"Fair?" he asked confusedly, eyebrows knitting together.

"You can't just go around acting like I don't exist to you anymore, acting like I'm just a liability and then show up at my house with coffee and pretend we are the way we were."

"I'm not trying to do that."

Clara sighed. "Listen, I'm grading papers right now. But if you want to come in and make yourself a cup of tea and sulk or whatever, you know where to go." With those words, she shoved her glasses back on her face and strode out of his door.

When it was shut, the Doctor kicked the console as hard as he could and reveled in the pain shooting through his foot. He came here to seek comfort in his companion, and all he did was muck things up.

Ruder than ever, it seemed that's all he was destined for was mucking his relationships with his companions up. No matter what he looked like.

The Doctor resigned himself to walking out and making the tea that she suggested.

….

"Tea?" he asked later, holding out the mug like a peace offering.

Clara looked up from the essay in her hands and looked at him. "Sure," she answered, indulging him.

"About earlier," he began, "I'm sorry."

"You're what?" she asked, blinking.

"Sorry," he repeated, grimacing like the very word left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Okay," she said and shrugged.

"Can I...sit?" he asked, gesturing to the cushion on the sofa next to her.

"Of course," she said, like he was ridiculous for even asking.

He sat gingerly on the edge, and made sure to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Three weeks," she said quietly.

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked.

"You said earlier, it'd been three weeks. Have you slept at all?"

He didn't answer her.

Clara sighed. "That's what I thought. Stay here, go to sleep."

"In your house?" he sputtered out. "Why on Earth would I want to stay in your house when I've got a perfectly good TARDIS?"

"Because I know if I leave you in there, you can hide yourself away instead of sleeping."

"I'm fine," he said gruffly.

"No, you're not," she insisted. "I could tell you were exhausted the minute I stepped in the TARDIS this morning."

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll take the sofa. And, it'll only be an hour of sleep. And...you have to go somewhere with me tomorrow."

"You're impossible," she said exasperatingly. "You're worse than a child."

"I resent that," he said. "I am 1,000 years your senior."

"Don't act like it," she muttered. "Now, I'm going to bed. Sleep, Doctor. That's an order."

Seeing no way out of it, the Doctor nodded once, curtly.

"Goodnight, boss."

"Goodnight, Doctor." She hugged him for a moment, then said, "I know you don't want to be alone anyways after tonight." With that, she walked quietly out of the room.