Doctor POV
I’m The Doctor, last of the Time Lords, and this is the story of how it ended.
“You suggested doing normal people things, so here we are! People-y things!” I exclaimed. Clara rolled her eyes. “You won’t even tell me where the bus is going! Buses are lame.” she sulked. I snickered. I wasn’t planning on telling her, but I was taking her to Paris. I could remember her saying that she’d always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower, and so it was my plan to make that wish become reality. Giving a playful grin, I said to her “You’ll just have to wait and see. But trust me, it’s worth it.”
We kept on talking, me doing my mini-rants and her just staring up at me, every now and again speaking with that quick wit and intelligence she has. She was so beautiful, so awe-striking, it just made me want to kiss her right then in the middle of that ratty vehicle. We’d find ourselves staring out the windows next to us at some of the landscapes ‘that looks really eerie, we should go there’ and ‘ooh I need to get a picture of this’ and of course the ‘Doctor. As soon as we get back to the TARDIS, you’re taking me back to that exact field’. I had laughed at that one, making a promise that we would go back to that /exact/ one, at which she said ‘we better’ and then continued talking about the planet that she saw had periwinkle skies but I saw as a fiery orange-red, like Amy’s hair.
It was starting to get dark outside; I was planning on getting off the bus with Clara when we got to the next city. The next time the bus stopped, though, was not a city, or a town, or for any reasons of that. Somebody had gotten shot. It was a blonde woman on the seat across from us- she got shot directly in the head. The bullet had come from the very back of the bus. Another shot had been fired. This one killed the driver. This, of course, caused us to crash. Everything after that was a hurried mess. The man with the gun stood up. All heads turned to him. He set off one more fire, this time through the roof of the bus, setting off pure havoc.
I was separated from Clara in the giant rush of people, I had no clue if she ended up off the bus or not. I soon realized that she hadn’t. I couldn’t see her, I couldn’t see her through the window. All I could feel coursing through my veins was pure terror and confusion. I pushed people out of the way in an attempt to get to the bus, but I was held back. I heard another gunshot coming from inside the bus. Two seconds later, I heard another one, and a scream. It was Clara. I managed to break free, and ran directly into the bus. There were people screaming at me to not go in, to stop, but I didn’t listen. I had to get to Clara. That was all that mattered. There were tears spilling out of my eyes, no sign of stopping. She couldn’t leave me again, I just got her back, I couldn’t lose her. I got through the emergency exit door and back onto the bus. I found Clara on the ground, her blue collared dress stained red with blood. At the back of the bus, I could see the hooded shooter dead. He must have killed himself after shooting all those people. I crawled over to Clara. She was still alive, but just barely. The man had shot her right near her stomach. “Hey,” I whispered, barely audible. “I promise you’ll be fine.” I put my hand on her pale tear-stained cheek. She looked up at me, and made what I could tell was an attempt to smile weakly. Another tear fell from my eye. “Remember me, Chin Boy.” I smiled, a small laugh escaping from my lips. “Why would I forget?” She smiled again, immediately followed by a wince of pain. She was dying, almost dead. We both knew she wasn’t going to make it. I could tell it was getting harder for her to breathe. “Doctor… I-” A final tear slipped down her cheek. She was dead. Gone. I would never get to see her again. It was terrible. She died all because of some man on a ratty old bus on their way to a place she had only ever dreamed about, the final place in her ‘Places to see’ book. and now she’d never see it, she’d never know how I felt, and it still kills me every day. I cried so much in that moment, more than when I lost the ponds, more than after the last great time war.
After that, I just have up. I never gave in, I absolutely refused to. I found another cloud to park myself on, away from adventures and other people I could subdue myself to. It’s been years, and I still haven’t gotten over Clara, you know. The impossible girl. My impossible girl. She never got to finish that last sentence, I’ll never know those words that were about to roll off her tongue. I have a feeling about what it was, and I’m glad she never got the chance to say it- for if she had, I have no idea what I’d do. Make a paradox, maybe, to stop it all from happening. But she’s gone, she will always be gone. So now, I’m stuck here, alone, in a box on the clouds in the sky, with only flashbacks and thoughts to keep me company. It’s absolute torture. I’ve blamed myself completely for Clara’s death, I should have held her hand tight and never let go; I should have gotten everyone off the bus as soon as the woman got shot, made sure that Clara was safe. But I didn’t. And it kills me every day.
(A/N) Sorry grammar sucks and stuffs, I didn't have time to edit this. I don't even have time to be doing this stuff now.
Enjoy!
xx
