Why Did You Leave?

5. The Grieving

It was two months after the funeral when she heard the knock on her door. No one, not even the cold callers, ever tried to sell her things or deliver her newspaper. They all knew of the terrible loss she'd suffered. Some of her neighbours had left casseroles and pies on her doorstep in hope that she might get better and release herself from the cage of grief she'd enclosed herself in, but to no avail. Ever since she had died, she was completely and utterly lost, surrounded in guilt and sadness and just plain depression. Her once soft, luxuriously brown hair was now knotted and greasy, as if it never came to her mind that it existed. Her bright, chocolate brown eyes were lifeless and had lost their sparkle, red raw from crying every single day and night, because no longer would she be able to stare into his eyes and feel pure unconditional love, no longer could she lay in his soft arms or feel his gentle touch. No longer could she kiss those soft lips. The only reminders of his existence were the clothes in his wardrobe, completely untouched (apart from those times when Clara would cry softly into his tweed jacket, smelling his scent,) or the TARDIS, permanently locked in the garden shed to just rot away. The last of the time lords, gone in an instant. The very last TARDIS, left to wither away like a crop without rainfall.

Clara hadn't been eating properly. She merely had a few morsels of dry toast that scratched at her throat. Of course, she drank water and milk and occasionally a bottle of red wine, drowning her sorrows with the bittersweet taste of alcohol burning down her throat. However, she had been putting on weight. Her stomach had grew slightly...

She had quit her job three weeks beforehand. The constant chatter of happy children that were glad of their teachers misery (Clara never felt like giving out work because of her heart ache) and the teachers that always told her to move on and forget. How could she ever forget? She never wanted to forget, because despite all of the misery and sadness, her memories were wonderful. All the moments she recalled about how amazing he was, how charming, how completely mesmerising he could be. She remembered Akhaten, the exact day she realised how broken he was. He was just a lonely God who needed someone to love. They were like Beauty and the Beast, and like the fairytale says, who could ever love a beast?

She could. And that's exactly what she did. She loved him more than anything, she showed him exactly how she felt, how he wanted to be treated. With love. Completely unconditional and unselfish love. And then, she'd argued with him. She was the reason he died. She was just as guilty as the person driving the car.

She hadn't been out the house since she'd left school. The only food in her house was a few loaves of bread, a packet of fish fingers and a carton of custard. She didn't want to go outside. She wanted to die, right there, right then. The knock on the door soon changed that, though...

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After enduring the relentless knocking, she finally decided to open the door. It was Vastra and Jenny.

"Leave." she said coldly, closing her eyes and breathing deeply as she began to shut the door.

"Clara, I'm afraid this news is absolutely urgent." Vastra replied as Jenny wedged her foot between the door and it's frame, preventing Clara from closing it.

"JUST PISS OFF!" Clara broke down into a fit of tears and inaudible gasps, wishing more than anything to be left alone with her grief. They were just a reminder of who she had lost.

"Clara! Please, luv. We need to give you something." Jenny said softly, enveloping her arms around Clara and rubbing her hands up and down Clara's upper arms soothingly. After a minute or so, when Clara's cries had ceased, she fished through her dress pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, brushing the top of it lightly with her thumb over and over. "He would've wanted us to give this to you." She smiled sadly at Clara, taking up the watery-eyed girl's hand and opening her palm. Jenny carefully placed the box in Clara's outstretched hand, closing Clara's fingers around it and patting her hand afterwards.

Clara stared at the outside, observing the odd box before reluctantly opening it. A small piece of paper fell out, but she found a much greater treasure still encased in the box. A beautiful ring. Jenny leaned down and picked up the scrap of paper, giving it to Clara.

"We found it his pocket, Clara. Martha gave it to us after she tried bringing him back. He also had the reciept in his pocket, it showed that he'd bought it 7 minutes before he...passed. He l-loved you, C-clara..." Jenny explained, her voice breaking as she too began to cry slightly, a small tear slipping down her rose-tinted cheeks.

Clara opened the piece of paper, reading a familiar hand-writing for the first time in what felt like ages.

'My dearest Clara,

Words cannot express how sorry I am for ruining your day. I hoped you would see the souffle, or the newly decorated bedroom (and I only split the paint twice! Bet you're proud.) I know you might not want to see me right now, so hopefully (if all goes as planned) I'll be able to slide this little note in with the box through the letter box.

I love you more than anything in the world. Not even Gallifreyan, one of the most diverse yet beautiful languages of the entire universe could express my love.

So I hope this ring will suffice.

Will you marry me?

All my love,

Your Doctor

x x x'

Clara cried, harder than she'd ever cried before. Harder than when her mother had died, harder than the funeral. Jenny hugged her again, sobbing quietly into each other's shoulders.

Vastra coughed loudly, making Clara and Jenny direct their attention towards her. "He loved you, Clara. More than anything. And not only did he love you, but his child will also."

"What do you mean, 'his child'?" Clara asked, her face contorting into a look of confusion as she wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Vastra took a deep breath, whilst Jenny's grip on Clara tightened.

"You're pregnant with his child, Clara..."