Prompt by claraoswelve - hope you like it! :)
The Doctor arrived in the hospital. No time to waste, he thought. He quickly figured out the ward and burst in.
His impossible girl was sitting on the bed, reading a book. The room was sparsely furnished save for a vase containing colourful flowers and several get well cards scattered across the bedside table.
Clara placed her book down and gazed up. Her face brightened. So did his. Before Clara could say anything, he jumped up the bed and gave her a tight hug.
"D-Doctor!" Clara coughed. "Too tight!" He let go in shock.
"I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I thought you were dead. I'm just… really happy to see you." His voice wobbled. He was seeing his impossible girl alive again. And he was thanking the universe for the miracle. Never again was he going to let her leave his sight.
"You're being a little bit overdramatic." Clara chuckled. Now that the Doctor could properly see her, he noticed bruises all over her arms. He guessed that it was the same all over her body, hence the flinching when he had hugged her. He suddenly felt bad.
"You have bruises?" It was more of a statement than a question. "What happened?"
"Just a traffic accident. I bumped into a truck." She shrugged. "But it wasn't too serious, and no, you shouldn't worry about me." Clara replied with a frown.
"But why are you in the hospital if you only have bruises?" The Doctor asked. He sensed there was more to the reason she was staying in the hospital.
"I…uh…" Clara flung away the blue blanket that was covering her legs. She pointed at her legs. "So… yeah. This happened."
"You broke both of your legs?" The Doctor yelled in shock. "Clara, this is terrible! And you said it was nothing serious. Why didn't you call me sooner?!"
"That is the exact reason why I wasn't going to call you. Because I knew you would freak out. Except Angie and Artie thought otherwise. But," Clara leaned to take something out of the drawer of the bedside table. "Although I guess I was wrong after all. I need you to help me with something."
The Doctor leaned closer, interested. "With…?"
"There have been several mysterious deaths in the hospital. People are dying here." Clara lowered her voice.
"Well, obviously. You are in a hospital. It's where people go when they want to get better, and sometimes" he paused briefly "people don't make it out alive."
"No, not like that! People like me are dying."
"People like you?" The Doctor tilted his head in confusion.
"People with non-fatal wounds. People who are supposed to get better. A broken leg can't kill a person. Well, or so we thought." Clara handed a list of names. "This list contains people who had non-fatal wounds or diseases who've died while I was here. Apparently this has been going on for a while so there would be more names if you dug around."
The Doctor skimmed the list of names on the piece of paper. "Hmm. Interesting. I will be back, stay put. And I mean it. Don't wander off."
"I don't have a choice." Clara rolled her eyes, pointing at her legs.
"Fair point." The Doctor smiled awkwardly. "I'll be right back."
The Doctor snuck inside the office and read the patient files of each people on the list. "Norovirus… pneumonia… broken arm… Unless this hospital is terrible at taking care of patients, they had no reason to die." He muttered to himself. He stood up, suddenly realising something. He pointed at the blood samples. "That's not possible. That's not supposed to be there!"
He scribbled bits and pieces from the files and returned to Clara's room again. "Good news! I think I… Clara?!"
Clara looked as if she'd passed out. The Doctor nudged her to try waking her. "Clara!"
"Mmmm…?" Clara slowly opened her eyes. She coughed. "Sorry, I fell asleep. Have you been running? Why are you panting?"
The Doctor breathed out in relief. She was just sleeping. Nothing sinister. "I'm sorry, I thought you passed out."
"Over-protectiveness kicking in." Clara added. "Was just asleep. Who knew it would be so tiring having two broken legs? Anyway, did you find anything out?"
"Yes. The patients all had one thing in common – they had TV-944 poison in their system."
"…and in English?"
"They had a deadly space poison in their blood stream. Once injected, it clots their blood and stops the blood flow. Depending on where the clot is, it will register as different source of death."
"What are the symptoms and how do we cure it?"
"The first symptoms are similar to common cold. Then the poison makes you sick and drains you of your energy. When the poison takes complete control, it will kill you by stopping your blood flow. There is no cure unless…" He trailed off.
"Unless?"
"Unless I find a test subject and hope that their body creates enough antibodies for me to replicate. Even then, the process of taking the antibodies will kill the subject."
Clara gulped. "How do we find people who are poisoned?"
"I have a scanner that should scan patients ward by ward. There's two – one for me and one for you."
"Well, better get to work then." Clara shrugged. "Call me if you find anything." Clara quickly took the scanner and wheeled out in her wheelchair before the Doctor could argue.
For the whole day, Clara and the Doctor scanned each ward for their blood. Their hope dwindled as they the scans showed no results. The Doctor was starting to get frustrated. However, while the Doctor was scanning the last wards, Clara called him on his (technically Clara's other) mobile phone.
"I found them. 7th level, last room – ward 83." Clara sounded so sad and tired. The Doctor couldn't think about that. She had finally found them!
"On my way." The Doctor quickly hung up. The Doctor spotted Clara sitting quietly in her wheelchair, just outside a room. She looked paler than normal, but he decided to ignore that.
"Doctor, this whole ward… they scanned positive for that poison." Clara sounded so sad. She wasn't even making eye contact.
"Hey, that's good news. That means we can find a test subject and create those antibodies."
"And kill that subject in the process." She sounded so grim. Why was she grim? On balance, they would be saving people. They'd made that choice time and time again. What was holding her up this time?
"Sacrifices are necessary. You know that." The Doctor said, opening the door to ward 83. "Sacrifices save…." A small colourful sign hung low from the ceiling. Paediatric ward, it read. These were kids, ranging from infants to young children.
Wide eyed, the Doctor dropped his scanner. He ran out and slid onto the floor, covering his face in shock.
"Yeah." Clara leaned out of the wheelchair, squeezing his shoulder. "We can't."
Clara broke the silence.
"There is one other way." She whispered.
"What way?" The Doctor slowly looked up.
"You have me. Use me as the test subject. Save those kids." Clara gazed into his green eyes in sadness.
"No." He said firmly.
"Well there's no other choice!" Clara angrily yelled. The Doctor was startled.
"I'm not going to see you die again!" The Doctor yelled back. 'Again'? Clara pretended not to hear that.
"Doctor, it's either me, or an innocent child. Do not let your selfishness take over. For me, I've lived long enough to know what life is like. Frankly, I've lived and seen more than what others would in eighty years. Those children in there, they have no life. They've probably been holed up in this fake little world suffering, they've probably never experienced freedom and happiness." She dropped her voice. "Regardless of what you choose, I'm going to die anyway." Her voice wobbled in emotion.
The Doctor froze, and silence fell.
"What?" He looked at her in confusion.
Clara hesitantly handed the scanner to him.
"I had to check as well, you know. I've also been in this hospital for a while." She looked away.
He took the scanner and hesitantly turned it on. 'Clara Oswald: POSITIVE.'
He stumbled backwards. No, not his Clara, not his impossible girl.
"Like I said. It's either me or an innocent child. Who are you going to choose?" Clara held his hand. The Doctor stared at Clara emptily, not knowing what to think.
"Whatever you have to do, you are always and completely forgiven." Clara gave him a comforting smile. The smile faltered when Clara clutched her chest.
"I think the poison is affecting me already. You better hurry." Clara said taking deep, controlled breaths.
By the time they reached Clara's room, she had passed out.
"No, no, no. Stay with me." The Doctor was desperate. But Clara was right. He had to use her as a test subject. "Some help here?!" The Doctor yelled. Other doctors flooded the room and moved Clara to the intensive care unit.
When her condition was stabilised, the Doctor sat next to her, holding her tube covered hand. Clara was unconscious, but she looked so peaceful.
"Clara, no matter how many times I run to you, you fade away. Both in my dreams and in real life. You die again and again and I have no idea how to stop it. I'm so scared that one day, you'll die and won't come back." He placed her hand on his cheek. "And as your friend, your best friend, it breaks my heart. To you I may be your best friend, but to me, you are everything." He confessed. "I'm so sorry that I have to do this. I'm sorry for every mistake I've made in the past. The past two times you died, you didn't die in my hands. So I didn't have myself to blame. But this time, you are dying in my hands. And you are okay with that. I am a monster."
Clara quietly stirred from her sleep.
"Hello." Clara softly whispered. The Doctor wondered if she had heard what he had said.
"Hi." Tears slowly flowed down his cheeks.
"Hey, don't cry. Think of the children you're going to save." Clara wiped the Doctor's tears.
The Doctor took a syringe containing colourless liquid. "One shot and you'll be gone."
"One shot and everyone else will live." Clara replied with a sad smile.
Clara's eyelids slowly fluttered shut. Her heartbeat was slowing down, becoming fainter with every passing moment.
The Doctor slowly approached Clara and hesitantly injected the clear substance in her body. "I'm sorry… so sorry" He repeated over and over holding her body. The syringe automatically collected the antibodies and soon, the heart monitor flat lined.
The Doctor replicated the antibodies and distributed it for kids and adults in the hospital. He watched as children became well again. Afterwards, he sat amongst the hospital garden on ground level. The sadness was too overwhelming even for tears to flow. He was completely numb, unable to feel anything at all. In the garden, he saw a lone blue poppy. He picked it up in confusion.
"Himalayan blue poppy. It's impossible for you to grow here." He muttered. In the corner of his eye, he saw a red lantern flying away. He abruptly stood up.
He stared at the red lantern. He followed the direction it was flying in before bumping into someone. The familiar brunette whom he adored.
"Doctor?"