Author's Notes:

Alright ladies and gentlemen, here it is! The second-to-last chapter! I take back what I said in the last chapter, this is my new favorite. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please feel free to leave me a comment or review, it always makes my day to hear that you're enjoying the story!

Edit: I don't know if you've heard, but Matt Smith is officially leaving Doctor Who after the Christmas Special. My whole heart is sobbing, but I want you to know I will continue writing stories with Eleven and Clara as well as Twelve and Clara when the time comes. (IF I like him. That is a big if.)

Chapter Seven: The Doctor's Promise

"Close the door!" The Doctor yelled as he and Artima raced back into the church. "Bar it with anything you can find, anything at all! Don't let them in whatever you do!" The Doctor quickly locked the door with his sonic before he rushed to grab things to bar the door.

Artima immediately gathered chairs and empty cots, piling them up at the door. The Philomites screamed within their stolen bodies, pounding on the door to be let in. As they screamed Artima began to cry. Their voices were stolen from her people. Her friends, her family, her community; they screamed within their bodies stolen for them. They were dead, and it broke her heart. She stood back from the door, her small jaw clenched with anger.

"They stole those voices," She hissed. "They stole their voices and their bodies. To listen to them scream is…it's unbearable."

Artima wiped her cheek with one silvery hand. The Doctor glanced over at her, watching her cry for a moment before he wrapped his long arms around her.

"Don't let them die in vain, Artima. Your people are strong, and you must know that. Look around you; look at the people in here. They are alive. They are alive and they need you to help them keep them alive." The Doctor pulled back and smiled at her. He knelt so he was on eye level. "Now listen to me. I need you to do something incredibly important and I need you to be brave, Artima. I need you to go upstairs to the atmospheric converter and find the temporal switch. It should be the lever next to the blink-y blue buttons. NOT the blink-y green ones, that lever might accidentally cause the whole thing to go ka-boom." The Doctor held Artima's shoulders. "The Philomites will try to stop you. They will scream, they will fight, and if they get the chance, they will kill you. Do not give them that chance. Right now they're very afraid of you."

"Why would they be afraid of me? I'm a coward." Artima frowned.

"Because," The Doctor grinned and gently tapped her nose with the tip of his finger. "You're brave. All you have to do is remember that you are braver than you think. You left the safety of your church to find help, didn't you? You were brave enough to trust me, Artima, and the Philomites fear that bravery."

Artima smiled weakly and nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Okay. I trust you, Doctor."

The Doctor stood up straight and grinned. "Good girl! Once you pull that lever the Philomites will panic, so you need to get out of there as soon as possible."

"Why, what does that lever do?"

"It'll let my Tardis land." The Doctor said quickly, gesturing up to the ceiling. "Right now she's stuck somewhere up there trying to land, but that lever is messing with her temporal chronometer. Once you pull that lever she'll be able to land. The weather might go a little crazy, but we can worry about that later!"

The Doctor started off in one direction before quickly changing his mind and started in another.

"Doctor, where are you going? What's the plan after that?" Artima asked, watching as he moved away from her. The Doctor stopped and grinned at her, his smile almost genuine.

"I don't have one!"

"Then what's the point of this?" She looked bewildered.

"I'm being clever! Just trust me!" He grinned cheekily as he ran off. "I'm the Doctor!"

When Artima left to do what he had asked, the Doctor returned to the sick ward. He ran his fingers through his hair quickly before he spotted Clara laying in one of the cots. Her skin was pale and damp with sweat. The Doctor swallowed, taking a deep breath before he moved to her bedside. He brought a hand up to her face and, hesitating first, he brushed a bit of hair from her face. Clara opened her eyes, her breathing shallow and rapid.

"Oi, chin boy," She rasped with a smile. The Doctor smiled back at her, smoothing her hair back. "You're back."

"I always come back." He searched her face, looking at each sign of sickness. The redness in her eyes was alarming against such a pale face, and it caused an ache in his hearts. He had endangered her life again. "Most of the time." He murmured under his breath.

Clara laughed weakly before she coughed, groaning irritably. "This cough is going to be the death of me."

"No," The Doctor said with a frown. "Don't say that." He knew she had only been being sarcastic, but it hurt to think of what might actually happen to her. What he knew would happen if he couldn't stop the Philomites.

He was suddenly alarmed when Clara placed a surprisingly strong smack on his arm.

"Ow!" He yelped, rubbing his arm as he looked down at her with an exasperated expression. "You hit me!"

"You were being melodramatic!" Clara argued with a smile. "You're so dramatic with your sad eyes. If I'm going to die here, I don't want the last thing I see to be your sad eyes."

The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes at her. He made a face at her and listened to her laugh. It was choked, but it was still her laugh.

"That's better." Clara smiled weakly.

The Doctor smiled back at her and rubbed the back of her hand. "Clara Oswald, you're impossible."

Clara closed her eyes as her smile widened. "Now you're getting it."

The Doctor smiled and kissed her forehead, rubbing the kiss away with his thumb before he sat up once more. Clara opened her eyes and watched him for a moment. He was deep in thought, his mind working like the most complex of clocks.

"Clara," He murmured quietly, fidgeting with his fingers. "I made a promise to you, a promise to save you. In order for me to keep that promise, I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?"

The Doctor's eyes bore into her and Clara became confused. He had worked it out in his head, he knew what he needed to do but he wasn't telling her. He couldn't tell her.

"Do you trust me?" He repeated.

"I followed a space man into his snog box, if I didn't trust you what kind of person would I be?"

The Doctor smiled, laughing nervously. Clara narrowed her eyes at him; it was not like the Doctor to be nervous.

"Good, because what I'm about to do is very dangerous and risky and I'm not sure if it will work."

"If it saves these people, then it's worth a shot." Clara wheezed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"Are you sure?"

"Would I say it if I wasn't?"

"But you're absolutely certain?"

"Doctor," Clara was beginning to grow irritated. "I said I was sure, now what—"

Clara found herself unable to speak. The Doctor had done what needed to be done. The Doctor placed his hands on either side of her face. He brought himself very close.
And kissed her.