Chapter 4: Never been so heartbroken

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Amy sat on the sofa of their new apartment, staring out the window at the driving rain as it hammered against their thin windows. It was three months after they had been left in New York, and they'd learnt to make the best of it. At first, they had nothing, but with the help of a kind elderly couple, she and Rory had learnt about their new home, and had got jobs.

To be honest 1930s New York was really fascinating, like an endless adventure with the Doctor. Except, her raggedy man was gone, her family, friends, everyone. She only had Rory left.

But her husband had looked after her, becoming a Doctor and earning enough money to help them move into their new apartment, and buying Amy a typewriter to chase her dreams of being an author. Amy often pondered about writing down her adventures with the Doctor, deciding to start off with her own original novel 'Summer Falls' which she had just begun to write, then start a series inspired by the crazy man in a blue box.

Rory and Amy had moved into their new flat, fully integrated into New York, with new friends and a new life. But the only apartment they could afford was in a rather dodgy area, and crime was abundant. Luckily, she and Rory were saving up to move to a nicer area, and Rory had been promoted recently, they would soon be out of here.

She leant into Rory's comforting arm, who was almost asleep as the rain numbed them both to the world with its rhythmic drumming. Her eyes had fluttered closed when the door was hammered with urgency. Amy jolted into action, getting up slowly and glancing at Rory with an unsure expression, gathering up the bravery to open the door to who could easily be a robber.

The door knocked again, the hand behind the wood strong and frantic. Amy quickly opened it, deciding to stop the tension and cut to the chase.

Her heart stopped.

The man standing at the door was distressed, soaking, his huge chin dripping with rain, a darkened purple tweed coat, a bowtie, sagging as it soaked, his hair, a huge flop of brown hanging over the side of his stupid face.

The Doctor. Raggedy man. Her best friend.

His eyes stared into hers, just like her wondering if she was real, but no joy was held within them.

But this wasn't the Doctor she was used to, his eyes were red and still wet with tears, his face curled in a frown that begged for something and needed hope, as if he had just lost everything he had cared about, much like the day he realised she was saying goodbye to him. Her heart broke to see him so terrified and in tears. She glanced down and realised why, he was carrying a girl, soaking wet, with shoulder length brown hair, but his tweed coat was coated in scarlet blood, and so was her leg.

Numbly she pushed him inside, shouting at a dumbfounded Rory (who was mumbling something along the lines of 'is that the Doctor?!') to get his medical supplies and helping the Doctor get his friend onto the sofa.

Once the girl was settled on the sofa, hardly reaching each end, (she seemed quite small) The Doctor knelt beside her, holding her hand and bowing his head, mumbling softly, gently, as if consoling a loved one. Amy watched, fascinated, he had changed since she last saw him, he was showing his emotions, crying openly, broken even. Staring at this girl she didn't know with such devotion and dread it managed to pierce her heart with empathy, the words he mumbled to her, she couldn't quite make out, but eyes softening when she saw the Doctor lay several gentle kisses to her hand, holding it like a child's most precious toy.

Rory came and managed to push the Doctor way from the girl, but he still stayed as close as possible, kneeling down and rubbing his hands in agitation. As Rory worked, Amy pondered on giving the Doctor a hug, or any consoling, but he looked so distressed that she doubted going near him would be a good idea.

Rory stopped working and glanced at Amy, his eyes were dark, they shared a message in their minds, and Amy didn't have to ask to know she was dying. Amy motioned at the Doctor, Rory following her line of sight, he nodded and backed away, letting the Doctor shuffle towards the young woman.

He grabbed her hand, biting his hand as he choked back tears, face stained red and damp, making horrible croaking sounds as he cried. Amy watched his fingers dance to her pulse, and instantly knew the Doctor was desperately wanting her to live, despite all the odds stacked against him. Suddenly, his crying stopped, in fact he stopped breathing. His thumbing fingers froze, and his eyes stared at his friend's face in horror. "Clara. P-please C-Clara no…" he whispered.

Suddenly his head ducked down and he crouched in a tight circle like position, his fists clenched and hair hiding his face, as finally, the emotions that had been building up inside him, exploded in one almighty scream of utter torture and heartbreak.

….

The Doctor was numb, the coldness in Clara's wrist had pierced his soul, shattered his very being, allowing his emotions to spill out like a broken dam, in a scream that he didn't care who heard, his tears flowing more than he had done in hundreds of years. He wasn't aware of anyone, just himself, and Clara's DEAD body. He knew CPR wouldn't work, nothing would, and he didn't even have the TARDIS.

He finally looked at Clara's face, now growing pale, her hand lying limp on the sofa. He pulled her off the sofa with more care than the most precious baby, and laid her on his lap, hugging her into his chest, gripping on her with arms fierce with agony. He didn't know anything, only pain, anger and utter loss. His eyes were blurred with tears running down his face, his hearts ached along with his head, as the fact that Clara was dead, truly dead, ran through his mind. He gripped onto her harder.

What would he do without her? His impossible girl, Clara Oswald, Soufflé girl, his saviour. It was all his stupid fault, all of it. The bullet hadn't killed her, oh no, it was her trauma from his time stream, she was still weak from that, and getting shot in the leg just pushed her over the edge.

The Doctor wondered if he had ever been so traumatised by anyone's death, he found himself coming to the conclusion that he had never been in such agony until now, he'd rather die a million times over than suffer through this. A future without Clara wasn't worth living. He wondered about just ending it, he was on his last regeneration, it would be easy.

He suddenly realised whenever someone close to him died, he had always kept a glimmer of hope, the tiniest spark, but now, it was gone. The reason was simple, he had been avoiding it for so, so long. Convincing himself it wasn't the reason, but it always had been.

He loved Clara.

And that made it even worse as he gave into even more tears.

…

Amy and Rory watched the Doctor as he pulled Clara off the sofa and clutch her close, she shared a teary glance with Rory, grief for the Doctor filled her heart, and helplessness filled her guts from the inside out. The whole display was awful, the Doctor, reduced to an insane pile of emotion, holding his dead companion in his arms, as he cried without shame into her shoulder.

"I've never seen him so upset." Amy whispered to her husband.

Rory reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "What do we do?"

Amy looked at him with tears brimming her eyes. "I have no idea."

…

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

-My immortal- Evanescence.

The Doctor had settled into a position where he was leaning against the sofa, with Clara still in his arms, he had stopped crying now, only because he had no more tears left to shed, his eyes were dark, shadowed by his hair and the growing darkness in the room, rimmed with red along with his red face. He stroked Clara's hair, feeling it brush through his fingers. One more tear managed to form in his eye, and rolled down his cheek in a perfect tumble of glittering water. His hearts were slowly beating, barely any life in them, just beating because they had to, not any life remained in his body, a shell of his former self.

"I'm so sorry Clara. So, so sorry. It's all m-my fault. All mine." He whispered. "And I never knew, well I did, but I never admitted it, only until it was too late. That I care for you more than just a companion Clara, of course I do. You jumped into my time stream, you brought me back to life after the Ponds, and you made me chase you across all time and space. How could I not love you? But now, you'll never know." He whimpered, too quiet for Amy and Rory to hear.

A groaning sound made the Doctor raise his head, a song that was plastered onto his hearts, and echoed in his dreams as he slept, the slightest smile, just the corners of his lips turned upward, as a light shone through the darkness of the room, and under that heavenly light, stood a beautiful, blue box.

The TARDIS had tried to destroy New York, just to get to her heartbroken thief. His eyes widened as the TARDIS doors opened, and a golden light floated into the room, sparkling like glowing dust in a sunbeam, but millions of times brighter.

The light drifted towards Clara, wrapping itself around his impossible girl, the Doctor stared in shock, too tired and distraught to catch on with that his ship was doing, soon Clara was illuminated in a golden glow, seeming much more alive than what she actually was. It focused on her leg, surrounding the bullet with a heavenly glow. The bullet evaporated, along with the blood, and the wound in Clara's leg. The light receded back and returned into the TARDIS, with a soft thud as the doors closed.

The Doctor stared down at Clara, feeling for her wrist, he felt the slightest thump, thump of a beating heart. His hearts leapt in elation, and he turned her hand, to find a message in the same golden glow as the light earlier, reading; "Cry no more thief." It faded as soon as he read it.

He stared at Clara's face, his eyes forming more tears as he searched her face for any sign.

"Hello chin."

…

WOOO IT ENDED HAPPY.

All will be explained in the next chapter, but basically the TARDIS just risked New York to save Clara XD

WOOO GO TARDIS

Maybe she isn't such a cow ^^

But wasn't that sad? I really wanted to show how distraught the Doctor could be if Clara died, soooo..

BUT

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