Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. I do not own anything, nor do I get paid for it.

A/N Thank you so very much for your wonderful response. This story has now over 400 reviews!

This little interlude takes a break from Eight and Rose and jumps into the future a bit to see how events are being affected. The first few lines of this chapter are from the end of 'The Name of the Doctor'.

This is my first time writing Clara and Eleven together, and the first time I have written Clara at all, so do let me know how I did.

Happy Reading!

Interlude: The Other Side

"Who's that?" asked Clara, her eyes blurry with tears.

The Doctor stiffened, the familiar silhouette making his hearts go cold. "Never mind. Let's go back," he said, trying to pull her away.

Clara wasn't ready to let it go so easily. "But who is he?" she asked insistently.

"He's me," he said finally. "There's only me here, that's the point. Now let's get back." He tried yet again to pull her away before she tried to ask more questions.

Clara shook her head. "But I never saw that one. I saw all of you," she stressed, looking at him with wide eyes. "Eleven faces, all of them you. You're the eleventh Doctor."

"I said he was me," he said darkly. "I never said he was the Doctor."

Clara was swaying lightly on her feet, the exhaustion getting to her. "I don't understand," she mumbled, trying in vain to keep her eyes open.

"Look, my name, my real name, that is not the point," he said, frustration lacing his voice as his vision swayed. It was not a good idea for him to be inside his own timeline. He was resonating and it was hurting to concentrate. He gritted his teeth and continued. "The name I chose is the Doctor. The name you choose, it's like, it's like a promise you make. He's the one who broke the promise."

He looked down at Clara but her brain had already overloaded with the events of everything she had gone through. She fainted in his arms. "Clara? Clara?" he called but her body sagged bonelessly. "Clara!"

She didn't answer, didn't move, but she was breathing regularly which gave him some heart. He carefully lifted her in his arms and stared at the ghost of his past. "He is my secret," he murmured.

"What I did, I did without choice," said the other one.

"I know," said the Doctor, no mercy in his tone.

"In the name of peace and sanity," he said and turned around slowly, showing the face of him that haunted his nightmares.

"But not in the name of the Doctor," said the Doctor viciously.

The other one smiled sadly. "No," he agreed.

He started to say something else but the Doctor could no longer hear his voice. His image started to flicker as well, and the Doctor took an involuntary step towards him.

"What?" asked the Doctor. "I can't hear you."

The not-Doctor continued to speak, but he was getting fainter and fainter, no matter how much the Doctor tried to move towards him. He was fading, and fading fast. That stopped the Doctor in his tracks. Something was wrong.

The image of his past self faded away completely and the Doctor could feel his headache getting worse. He laid Clara down carefully before she got hurt and he stumbled to the ground after her, his head pounding out a rhythm he had once heard in the Master's mind. With a guttural cry, he forced himself to stand. He was in his own timeline and something had changed. He wasn't certain yet if him entering the timeline had done it, or if the Great Intelligence had interfered somehow, but he had to fix it and fix it fast.

He glanced down at Clara, and saw her beginning to stir. He bent down to rouse her, trying to smile through his pain when she opened her eyes.

"Doctor? Wha-what's happening?" she asked, her words still a little slurred.

"Clara, you have to stay awake," he said, smiling through gritted teeth. "Something's gone wrong."

She looked at him in confusion before looking around. "Are we still in your timeline?" she asked, sitting up with his help.

"Yes," he answered, unable to hold the smile any longer. "Clara, my head…"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said, grabbing his shoulders gently. "Doctor, we are going to figure out what's wrong, alright?"

He nodded, his eyes screwed up in pain. Clara looked worried for a moment before getting a determined look on her face. She stood up and hauled the Doctor up with her, steadying him when he swayed a little.

"My past, something has changed in my past," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"When?" she asked. Her head was still buzzing with the memories of what she realised were her other selves with the Doctor's previous selves. She wasn't certain if they really were her or mere echoes and ghosts, but she couldn't let her mind dwell on it. The Doctor's timeline was very, very complex, and if one thing had changed, then it could spell disaster. She could feel him losing focus though, so she shook him slightly. "Doctor! What has changed?"

"The war," he said, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead. "My face...in the war...different...Clara...Gallifrey...burning...war…"

Clara realised that he had become delirious, and she looked on helplessly as she eased him down to sit back on the ground. "It's okay, Doctor," she said, petting his hair comfortingly. "I'll figure it out."

The Doctor didn't show any indication of having heard her, but Clara didn't let it discourage her. She started walking along tentatively in the direction of where the Doctor had been looking to go before, hoping that there would be some obvious sign of something being wrong. The heat that she had been feeling on her skin was getting worse as she moved forward, and she heard snatches of voices that she couldn't quite place.

She stopped then, the heat around her getting worse, making it hard for her to focus. Clara contemplated moving further, but she jumped when she felt someone pull her away. She whirled around and saw the Doctor, breathing heavily, but looking determined as he got her out of the way. "It'll hurt you if you keep going," he told her, his voice sounding steady despite his uneven breathing.

"What about you?" she asked, still unconvinced that he was fine. "Won't it hurt you?"

He smiled wanly. "Go back, Clara," he said. "Just keep going back the way we came from and you'll find a way back out. The TARDIS is programmed to take you back home," he said.

She raised her chin stubbornly. "I am not leaving you," she said. "Whatever's gone wrong, we'll figure it out together. 'Kay?"

His eyes softened and he nodded. "What do you remember of my eighth life?" he asked.

"I think you brushed past me in a park once," she said. "Long curly hair, green velvet?"

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No," she said, her brow furrowing. "Why?"

"What about my next self?" he asked, looking at her carefully.

"Short hair, leather jacket," she said, closing her eyes briefly to remember.

"Anyone else between the two?" he asked.

"No," she said, confused. "Doctor, what's going on? Who was that man we saw before?"

He looked down and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "I-I'm not sure anymore," he said. "I always thought...the war...but not anymore...maybe it's changed…"

"Doctor," interrupted Clara, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. "Finish your sentences."

"I fought in the Time War," he said, his eyes flashing darkly.

Clara nodded. "Yes, you told me, remember?" she reminded him. "You said your people and your planet are all gone now."

"I did that," he said. "I ended the war. I destroyed Gallifrey and the Time Lords."

Clara looked stunned. "You can't have," she said, her voice sounding small. When she saw the raw sorrow on his face, her heart broke just a little more. "Oh, Doctor."

"That was the face of me that ended the war," he said, nodding back the way they had come from. "I-I can't even bear to call him the Doctor. Everything he did…" He shook his head and fell silent.

"Which number was he?" asked Clara finally, unable to bear the silence.

"Nine, I suppose," he said. "My eighth self never joined the war. He regenerated and went to the war as him. After the war...I couldn't...I had lost the right to call him the Doctor. He broke our promise."

Clara touched his arm, tears welling in her eyes at his pain. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said.

The Doctor hardly seemed to notice it. "But something's changed now," he said. "I have new memories. Or rather there is no trace of my old memories and there is a closed nexus of memories instead."

"What does that mean?" asked Clara.

"Time Lords have a tendency to go through time non-linearly at times. Me, even more so with all my travels in the TARDIS," he said. "Time isn't a straight line, it's all bumpy and wobbly, or was it wibbly and wobbly." He shook his head and focused on Clara. "Sometimes things happen in our lives that we are not meant to learn until there is no longer a threat that foreknowledge will lead to a disturbance in the timelines. That's why all Time Lords have a natural defence to stop them from learning too much about the events that are still in flux."

"So, something in your past has changed and you don't know what it is, because if you did it would mess with your future?" asked Clara, trying to wrap her mind around it.

"Exactly," he said, his eyes shining brightly, despite the sweat still covering his brow. "Come on."

He started leading her through his timeline and Clara heard his tenth self, followed by the Northern burr of his ninth self. However, when that voice got fainter, they came across a tightly packed box that was nearly as tall as Clara herself and covered in several layers of packing material.

"Those are the new memories?" asked Clara, looking a bit confused at the odd object in the middle of the bare path. "In a box?"

"It's not really a box," said the Doctor and she could practically hear him rolling his eyes at her. "We are in my timeline. I am just envisioning it in a way that you would understand. It can be a packed box, a locked door or one of those little yellow 'Keep Out' signs. I never knew why they were yellow. Seems to be a universal thing that. Point is, it can be anything I want it to look like."

"Right," said Clara. "So, you think that the Doctor that fought in the war has been replaced by this new box of memories instead?"

"Yes," he said distractedly, examining the box. Clara wondered what it was exactly that he was doing since the box was apparently abstract, but thinking about it was giving her more of a headache than she already had, so she looked on quietly, waiting for the Doctor to figure out what he needed to before he could explain it to her. "It's strange, this box," he murmured after a long moment of silence. "I don't think the Great Intelligence had anything to do with it."

"So, if not them, then who?" asked Clara, before a horrible thought struck her. "Was it me? Did I do something wrong?"

He looked at her in alarm. "No, no, no, Clara," he said gently. "It wasn't you." He turned back to the box and grimaced. "I think this one is all on me."

"Will it have affected the future?" asked Clara, feeling a little bit of relief.

"One way to find out," he said, shooting her a boyish smirk though his eyes were anything but. "I am going to crack it open."

It was Clara's turn to look alarmed. "Thought you said it had to stay sealed until it opened of its own accord," she said.

"Well, they are my memories and we are in my timeline," he said. "Iget to decide what I do in here."

Clara noticed the mad glint in his eyes and the anger in his tone, and she felt a shiver of fear. She didn't like it when he got this way, as if there was nothing he would stop at to get what he wanted.

"Doctor," she said, her tone cautious. "What if you make it worse by opening those memories now?" He ignored her completely, but Clara pressed on. "You already said it could change the future. What if the new memories are even worse than what the Doctor in the war really was?"

He glared coldly at her. "There can be nothing worse than what he was," he said darkly. "He killed them all, he made the choice to kill them all."

"But he was you," she implored. "You would never have done it if you thought there was another way. Maybe this box is meant to be that. Something that might not be any better, but at least not as bad as it could have been."

The Doctor's glare faded away as he looked away. "The universe is not that kind, Clara," he said, his voice sounding so very old.

"Maybe it will be kind this time," said Clara, reaching towards him.

He jumped back abruptly and shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I have to know. I have to know now."

Clara almost screamed in frustration, wondering how she was going to stop him when the Doctor jumped back from the box with a yelp. Clara's eyes went wide when she saw that a magnificent golden wolf had seemingly materialised out of nowhere and was standing on top of the box, growling at the Doctor with the dark, earthy eyes that seemed more intelligent than Clara would have believed.

She looked at the Doctor and saw him staring at the wolf like he had seen a ghost. The wolf settled itself on top of the box protectively, eyeing the Doctor in what looked like disgust, still growling ferociously.

"No," said the Doctor finally. "You are not really here."

The wolf's hackles were raised and it was growling in a way that made Clara fear for the Doctor's safety, though he seemed confident enough that he was in no danger.

"Did you hear me?" he demanded angrily. "You aren't here. She isn't here."

The wolf continued to bar its teeth until the Doctor dropped his angry stance. Clara was shocked to see how tired he looked. She had never seen him like this, ever. She couldn't even bring herself to speak as she just kept watching, the fascination she felt overriding her inquisitive nature. What surprised Clara even more was the way the wolf relaxed, though it did not leave its protective perch atop the box. The Doctor's eyes were so soft and desperate as he looked at the wolf that Clara had to clap a hand on her mouth to muffle her sound of sympathy.

"Look at you," he murmured. "Still keeping me from doing something stupid. I know you won't really be in here, but how I wish you were." The wolf just blinked at him and he sagged, the fight leaving his body. "I am going mad. The mad old Doctor has finally cracked. Wishing for someone who isn't there anymore." He shook his head and bowed his head, his eyes falling shut.

To Clara's enormous surprise, the wolf stood up and looked at the Doctor for a long moment before throwing its head back and howling loudly. The Doctor's eyes sprang open but the wolf had seemingly vanished in a dust of golden particles. He sighed and started to shake his head when he saw something resting on top of the box. Clara had to rise on her tiptoes to see what it was and she gasped when she saw that there was a bright pink and yellow rose where the wolf had been. She turned to the Doctor to ask him what it meant but found tears flowing down his cheeks as he gazed at the rose with such longing that it made Clara's stomach hurt.

He reached over to pick it up but it dissolved into gold particles before he could touch it, and Clara couldn't stop the tears in her eyes when she saw the utter hopelessness in the Doctor's eyes. She blinked them back and moved towards him cautiously, taking his hand in comfort. He looked a little startled at the action as if he had forgotten that Clara was even there, but a small, sad smile graced his face and he allowed her to lead him back the way they had come from.

The place they were in seemed to cool down and the bright light simmered down to a dim glow as they made their way back. They glanced back only once to see the box engulfed in darkness, signifying that the secrets inside it had remained safe and unknown to them for now. Clara couldn't help but feel relieved when she saw that. They reached back to where they had started, and to their surprise, there was something akin to a portal there with a silvery glow emanating from it.

"Should we?" asked Clara, speaking for the first time in a long while.

The Doctor merely nodded and the two of them walked through it, gasping in surprise when they felt something cool trickle over them as they emerged back onto the surface of Trenzalore. The planet was still in ruins, but the Doctor merely turned his gaze skyward and smiled when he saw that the stars were safe and twinkling like they were supposed to. He glanced down at Clara, and saw that she looked very much the picture of pure exhaustion.

His gaze turning concerned, he picked her up and carried her inside the TARDIS despite her weak protests. Inside, he found Vastra and Strax fussing over Jenny who was awake but lying down on a makeshift stretcher that the Doctor knew was Sontaran technology. When they saw him carrying Clara inside, Strax reached inside his armour and drew out a flat disc which quickly opened up into an identical stretcher.

Nodding gratefully at the Sontaran, the Doctor set Clara down on it. Strax reached for his scanner and started to examine Clara. Jenny took the opportunity to escape Madame Vastra's and Strax's combined fussing and got to her feet. "Is she alright then, Doctor?" she asked, looking down at Clara.

"The boy is fine," said Strax grouchily. "There is some dehydration. Providing solution now," he added, reaching into his suit and pulling out a cylindrical vial with orange fluid in it. He inserted the vial into what looked like the frame of gun but a needle shot out the front of it and Strax inserted it into Clara's arm, and injected the orange liquid into her. Clara's eyes sprang open and she blinked a few times, looking slightly disoriented. Strax nodded to himself satisfactorily and put his supplies away.

"What happened?" demanded Vastra, keeping a firm grip on one of Jenny's hands.

"It doesn't matter," said the Doctor, helping Clara stand. "It's over now."

"What about Dr. Simeon and those...things?" asked Jenny, shivering as she remembered the Whisper Men.

"They failed," he said. "Clara stopped them."

Clara smiled at him, but she knew that he wasn't going to tell the others about the change in his timeline and the new box of memories in place of an old self that he hadn't thought of as the Doctor at all. She jumped slightly when he clapped his hands and whirled over to the console.

"Come on then," he said. "Let's get you lot home. You three must have something or other to investigate and Clara has to look after Angie and Artie." He began his usual dance around the console, pressing switches, flipping levers and keeping up a running commentary about the benefits of bowties or fish fingers or something equally mundane as they said goodbye to the Paternoster Gang and were on their way to the Maitland home.

"Doctor," Clara interrupted his tirade finally when she heard the TARDIS starting to land near the Maitland home.

He stopped his rambling and looked at her questioningly. "Yes, Clara?" he asked, looking apparently unbothered.

Clara almost stomped her foot in frustration but settled for crossing her arms in front of her. "What was that wolf back there?" she asked bluntly.

He smiled suddenly, a genuine smile that was more sad than happy. "That was an old friend," he said. "Stopping me from doing something that I may not have regretted later, but wasn't especially good for me."

"And your timeline? It's changed now," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. "Like you said, it may have changed for the better, or maybe it has got worse. I won't know until a time comes when it is safe for that box for open."

"Are the Time Lords…? And your planet?" asked Clara in a small voice.

He shook his head. "Still gone," he said. His voice took on a soft, sad tone. "There is nothing that could change the fate of my planet and my people, Clara. There are temporal tipping points and there are fixed points, and then there is the Last Great Time War. That event is so deeply embedded in the scope of the cosmos that it cannot change without the entire universe collapsing in on itself. Several times over. And trust me, no one wants that."

"But all that destruction," said Clara.

"Ah yes, all the destruction in the war," nodded the Doctor. "As much as it pains me to admit it, things would have been a lot worse for everyone if the war hadn't ended when it did."

"And what about you?" she asked. "Technically, you no longer exist in one of your lives."

He chuckled lightly at that. "That life of mine wasn't a proper regeneration. The Sisterhood of Karn gave me a potion to make me into a warrior. That's what that body was, a warrior. I think that was why it was so easy to not think of him as the Doctor. Didn't stop my last two selves from blaming only themselves though."

"So what changed with you?" asked Clara, wondering if he would answer.

"They had someone who made it all better," he said, a soft smile on his face.

"And you don't?" asked Clara, feeling a stab of hurt.

"It isn't like that, Clara," he said gently. "When I regenerated into this life, I was all alone. I didn't know if I would find someone to make it better. I could no longer shoulder the responsibility of it." He sighed deeply. "I think it was easier to just place the blame on someone who wasn't truly me."

"I'm sorry," she said. "What are you going to do now?"

He took a deep breath and pretended to mull over her question. "Same as always," he said. "Running about madly, trying to solve trouble and getting into mysteries. Or is it the other way around?" he joked.

Clara smiled reluctantly and gave him a long hug. "Don't be a stranger," she said.

He hugged her back tightly. "Oh Clara," he murmured. "Of course, I won't."

Clara pulled away and pinched his cheek affectionately. "I will wait for your call," she said, starting to walk towards the door.

He inclined his head in agreement, the smile on his face a promise that he would definitely call. Clara nodded back and turned to go before looking back at him.

"That friend of yours," said Clara. "The one you said stopped you from doing something stupid and who made it all better. What was her name?"

The Doctor's eyes twinkled. "Her name was Rose."

A/N End of the chapter. What did you think?

The next chapter will go back to Eight and Rose. I have estimated that this story will be 31 chapters in total, though there is a chance of that number going up. The next one will be up on Saturday. See you then!