Chapter 3: The Impossible Choice
The Doctor stayed by her side for an unknown amount of time. He could feel the embrace of his ship's mind attempting to soothe his aguish. He had lost Clara again. He would find her again someday. When she scattered across his timeline, she was present in his future as well.
But his Clara was the original. Any others would just be hollow echoes of the incredible woman he once called the Impossible Girl.
He eventually pulled himself up from the cold metal floor, careful to not reopen the gash on his ribs that had finally scabbed over. He dressed himself and her in clean clothes and turned off the wailing heart monitor whose single somber note had echoed throughout all the corridors of the Tardis for possibly hours.
He hung his head in exhaustion and guilt. All of his Time Lord adrenaline from earlier had deserted him, and he felt every bruise, every patch of acid-burnt skin, every pulled muscle, and every laceration, but nothing hurt more than the ache in his hearts for the first face this face saw.
It was his fault. He should have never left her alone on an unsafe planet like that. Why had he been so stubborn? Why couldn't he have just apologized?
Because she was right. He had lied to her about his true intentions multiple times. The most prominent lie was when he claimed that they were going on the Orient Express purely for a relaxing last hurrah, when he really only took her there to follow a wild hunch and nearly got everyone killed in the process. Of course, she had had her fair share of deceptions as well.
But none of that mattered now. Everything she ever did to him, every hurt, every slap, faded away from his memory. What was the point in holding a grudge against the dead? He only wished he had one more moment with her, to explain everything. To tell her he that was truly enamored with her and could never imagine losing her.
But there was no point now.
He respectfully cleaned her of the gore and lifted a clean sheet over her face. To him, the action felt like closing a chapter of his life. This woman who had been saving and protecting him for over 2000 years was suddenly gone. She had saved him so many times, and when it became his turn to save her, he failed her.
He slumped into a nearby uncomfortable chair and pressed his face into his hands. "I could have done more. I could have done more." He cried softly.
The Doctor suddenly shot his head up. "I still can!" he gasped breathlessly, clutching with all his might to a small glimmer of hope before he realized its price and his eyes darkened.
The Tardis must have picked up on his idea because she immediately whirred in disapproval and tugged at his mind.
"Yes. Like River did to me, so many years ago." He let out a short disbelieving laugh. "I can do that. I owe her that much."
He immediately felt the Tardis trying to kick some sense into his mind. 'It will kill you, my Thief.'
'I can pour all my remaining regenerations into her. It worked on me when River did it. It will work on her too!' he excitedly countered.
'You don't know how many regenerations you have left. You cannot just cheat life and death. You would know better than anyone.'
'And why not?' he hissed in his mind, 'I've done it hundreds of times.'
'This is a fixed point. I have known for ages. You cannot just bring life. There must always be an exchange. That would mean you, my thief. You will not be able to remain alive afterwards like River could. You don't have any reserves left. You will die if you save her. I will not help you commit suicide. Let her go.'
"Shut up." he growled aloud. "The universe doesn't need me anymore; nobody needs this old doctor around anymore. Clara's right, I no longer save people; people are usually just lucky to survive when they're stuck with me. I am not a doctor, I am an executioner."
He gazed down onto her covered form, to the lake of their blood on the ground, to the droplets of acid from his desperate run burning through the metal floor. "Let me save one last life."
'No.' the Tardis snapped.
"But she needs me. She has saved my life so many times and in so many ways. She is the one who made me who I am." he clasped her prone hand from underneath the sheet. "She needs me now, and I am here."
'This isn't time for stupid heroics, Thief; this is your life, and potentially those of millions of others who wait for you to save them in the future. If you save her, you are damning them.'
"Try to argue with a time machine." he muttered under his breath. He stood up and erected blockades in his mind to prevent the Tardis from trying to convince him any further. His mind was made up. She warbled angrily and he could feel her scrabbling desperately at the blockades.
"Oh Clara, my Clara." he turned to the wall and punched in codes to program the Tardis to take her home. He recorded a quick Emergency Protocol message, and turned back to her.
He uncovered her face and clasped her cold hand with both of his warm ones. "You impossible pudding brain. All the trouble I go through for you," he spoke, knowing that she would never remember this conversation, "it has been an honor and a privilege to show you the stars." his voice cracked slightly, "I only wish there was time for a few more adventures."
He leaned down to hesitantly kiss her forehead softly and brush stray locks of hair from her face. "If you ever remember this conversation, you'll laugh at me." He chuckled sadly. "Look at me. Being a softie. I'm supposed to be all grumpy, unaffectionate, and eyebrows. Heartless."
He gathered her into his arms, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "But you will find that I am not heartless at all. In fact, I have two."
He sighed dejectedly, "The universe doesn't need this old doctor anymore. I've lived a long life, and I have seen many things. I have died many times, so what is one more time? Let me save you, Clara." he pressed his forehead to hers, a few tears tracking their way down his face.
"The universe doesn't need this broken old meddler anymore, it needs you." his Scottish burr dropped an octave.
Without another word he channeled up every energy reserve he could find in himself, took her in a full-body embrace, and pressed his lips to hers. Hot golden energy spewed from his body and twined beautifully across the room, lighting up the previously darkened space.
The tendrils whirled around their tangled bodies and curled into her wounds, her broken bones, her bruises, and her heart. The sparkling life force pushed into her cold form, reigniting her soul with his. Her soul flickered and drank him in as he tied himself in knots round and round her spirit until she stirred.
Clara Oswald felt herself being wrapped in the closest embrace in her very soul. Was it Danny? No, Danny was dead, she reasoned. It couldn't be the Doctor, he hated hugging.
She wriggled slightly and opened her eyes to complete darkness and a beautiful, somehow familiar, golden shimmer of light attempting to coax her from what felt like the deepest sleep she had ever had.
At her stirring, the shimmer glowed excitedly and danced in her blurred vision. 'Buck up. You can do it.' It seemed to say.
She reached for the light, but it nimbly darted just out of her reach. She followed it through the darkness. The dark was so thick; getting through it felt like walking across the bottom of a pool of honey. The light seemed to extend itself to her like an offered hand. She reached for the light again and caught it. It wrapped itself over her like a vine and lifted her out of the murky dark. It felt like resurfacing from the bottom of a lake, and her lungs burned for air.
Her chocolate-brown eyes peeked open the slightest bit, squinting against the golden light show outside.
The Doctor felt her skin become warm and glow beneath his fingertips. He could feel himself becoming weaker and smaller, pouring all he had into her. He saw her eyes open and released her lips. She gasped and arched her back as all the energy in the room was sucked into her mouth and filled her body. The light scattered everywhere and she could feel her injuries disappearing at their will.
The last bits of energy poured from the Doctor's fingertips, eyes, and mouth, until finally he was empty. All that he ever was, all that he is, all that he ever would be, was hers now.
When the lights finally dimmed and disappeared, Clara found herself gasping for air. After a few lungfuls, she shot her eyes open. She had just had the strangest dream. "Doctor?" she called.
Her eyes widened once she realized what had just happened. "Doctor!" He laid sprawled out over her, his head resting on her shoulder, his body proving to be much lighter than it probably should. He shifted slightly and gazed up at her with bleary eyes.
"It worked." He managed a slight smile. The very last of the great Time Lords had put his long life to good use, and now, finally, he and his species could truly rest. He cupped her face weakly and crawled off of her, losing his balance and clambering to the floor in a disheveled heap.
Clara, feeling stronger than ever immediately dove out of the bed. "Doctor. You did not just do what I think you did."
He poked his head out from beneath his arms. "Sometimes," he began, taking her hand in his limply, "the only choices we have are bad ones-"
"Oh, no you don't." she cut him off. "You can't do this to me."
"-But we still have to choose." he struggled out. Clara held him softly in her arms and for once he did not protest. His gash had been reopened by his fall off the bed, and now she was slowly becoming soaked in blood again.
"You...kissed me, didn't you?"
"Oh wow," he rolled his eyes. "Let's get our priorities straight, Clara." he scoffed.
"You..." she started, choking on tears, "you sacrificed your life...for me? After all I've done to you?
"Yes." he panted, "Yes, I did. The universe has had quite enough of this old man in the blue box meddling around for 2000 years." He let out a forced disjointed laugh.
"Will you regenerate?" Clara was sobbing and rocking him in her arms. "Please tell me you'll regenerate."
"Well," he snorted half-heartedly, "saying that the universe has had enough of me kind of implied against that. No, I will not regenerate. Not this time."
"You should see your eyes right now," he gestured to her comically wide eyes, "I've never seen them inflate this much before. It's quite impressive, actually." He shuddered out just as his own eyelids began to slip.
"Oh no you don't!" Clara shouted, slapping his cheek firmly, "you can't just leave me alone!"
The annoyed exclamation of surprise that usually resulted whenever she slapped him for bad behavior never came. The blood bubbling from his gash slowed to a trickle and halted. Clara clutched his body to hers with all her newfound strength and sobbed. Usually, his whole body vibrated softly by the power of the twin beats of his hearts, but now even those tiny hums of life were absent.
The stillness of the room was eerie, and for the first time in centuries, the Tardis was completely silent. It was as if the entire universe had held its breath all at once, with Clara's broken sobs the only sounds left in existence.
The last child of Gallifrey was no more. The Time Lords were extinct.
And the Doctor was gone.