The Time She Needed A Friend

Chapter 5: Not love Not always

A/N: Dedicated to anyone who is reading this... I write for you.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

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Chapter 5

Eventually they had moved from the bathroom floor to the couch in the living room. The Doctor told Clara to sit while he remade the tea and listened to the message on the phone. The voicemail was spoken in a quiet voice with remorseful tones. Dave Oswald was sad that Clara wasn't able to say her goodbyes but he relayed as much as he could to her. The Doctor finished up with the tea and brought it out to Clara, who was staring off into space while sitting perfectly still. He cleared his throat and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention cautiously.

"Here, I made tea." He watched as she blinked a few times, slowly coming back down to earth from wherever her mind flew off too.

"Thank you, Doctor." Clara didn't want to do much of anything at the moment. She didn't want tea and she certainly didn't want to cry anymore, she just wanted her Gran back. She felt the spot next to her on the couch sink down from the Doctors weight and felt his gaze on her.

"Clara, you should change your clothes and put on some pajamas. It will help you feel better." He said in a hushed tone, trying to be gentle with his words. Clara could start to feel herself get emotional again- not with sadness, but anger.

"I don't think I can feel better just because I changed clothes. I don't want to change or drink or-r sleep, I just want-"

"Yes, I know what you want Clara but there is nothing you can do. You can't bring your Gran back and you can't just sit here. I am sorry but you-" but before the Doctor could finish Clara stood up abruptly, "I don't want you to be sorry Doctor, I just want to go back and see her! See my Gran one last time, to say goodbye and tell her how much I love her! I don't need to change anything- just say goodbye." She let her breath extinguish on the last word before she realized how dizzy she felt.

Clara could feel herself start to fall and gravity take effect on her body. Her mind felt fuzzy and blackness started to seep into the sides of her vision. She felt herself gasp in air, but she didn't feel like she was the one doing it, more like witnessing someone else.

The Doctor watched as Clara declared her anguish over her recent tragedy but soon realized there was something wrong as her words became more breathy as she went on. She started to become off balance and he felt his instincts kick in. He sprung up and grabbed Clara and pulled her to him. He grasped her waist then slid in right arm down to hook under her knees while his left arm clutched her shoulders. He lifted her bridal style and looked at her face, her eyes were closed, but her brow was furrowed. She moaned and turned her head towards his chest, snuggling into his jacket.

"Clara," The Doctor let a smile spread across his face, but he was still concerned. He supposed that she hadn't eaten in hours; she must have gotten home, heard the bad news and things just got forgot from there. He thought about what to do with the girl in his arms.

"Of course, the only way you'd actually listen is when you have no choice." The Doctor walked to her bedroom and laid her on the bed. The thought of him possibly having to undress the women made him blush and he felt warm all over. He shook his head; there was no place for those thoughts at the moment. The Doctor walked to Clara's dresser and tried to search for comfortable clothes.

Clara stirred awake to a man going through her drawers. She sat up abruptly and quickly regretted it when she felt the onslaught of a headache come on.

"Where are bloody clothes when you need them. There are tons in the closet and on every piece of furniture in here, but none of them work! Remind me to tell you that your fashion sense is faulty."