The Lost Ships

Don't Leave Me (In Memory of Clara Oswald)

A/N: This is the Whouffaldi one.

In memory of Clara Oswald. Thank you for being such a wonderful companion for so long.

The familiar sound of the TARDIS materializing came from Clara's living room. She quickly brushed the tears from her face, and, running into the bathroom, fixed her makeup as best she could in the limited time she had. Deeming herself presentable, she fixed a smile on her face and walked through the TARDIS doors.

"Hello!" She called in her best attempt at her normal singsong voice.

"Hello." The Doctor walked around for the other side of the console, "Clara, you look awful!" He exclaimed.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why thank you." She said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I mean worse than usual." He elaborated, clueless as usual to other people's feelings. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Doctor. I'm fine." She said with a little too much enthusiasm, rounding the console. He followed after.

"No, you're not."

"Yes! I am!"

"Clara, look at yourself! You are the picture of not okay."

"Doctor! I'm fine!"

"If you say so." He began to set coordinates into the screen and she leaned forward on her hands that rested on the panel. They were both silent and Clara closed her eyes.

She heard the final lever being pulled, the familiar wheezing of the engines, and felt the room jolting slightly. Even after it stilled neither of them moved.

After a few moments Clara felt a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Clara..."

Her eyes watered and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Why won't you just tell me?"

"Why do you even care!?" She snapped.

The Doctor stepped back, a hurt look in his eyes, "You're my friend."

"Am I? Am I really?"

"Of course you are."

"Well you certainly don't act like I am. I have a life beyond traveling with you, you know. But you don't care. You just pick me up whenever it suits you, never a care for what's happening in my life."

"Clara, I think you're overreacting."

"Overreacting? Overreacting!? How could you say that!? You have no idea what's going on with me."

"How can I know if you don't tell me?"

Clara looked down at the console, tears still streaming down her face. "Take me home." Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

"Sorry?"

"I said, take me home." She was louder now, her voice stronger.

"Clara..."

"Just do it." She began to sob, voice breaking as she finished speaking.

Without another word, The Doctor rounded the console and began pressing buttons. Clara looked up, a little fearfully, expecting him to look angry. But his expression was strangely calm. He pulled down the final lever. The symbols above them began to turn on their dials. Clara watched them, uncomfortably aware of The Doctor's eyes boring into her.

The symbols came to a stop. For a second neither spoke or moved, but then The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Well, here you are."

Clara nodded and made her way to the door. She turned back just as she reached it. He hadn't moved, but was standing almost helplessly by the controls, staring after her. As their gazes met he looked away, at the floor. "I assume this is the last I'll see of you."

Clara hesitated. She almost wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him, and never leave again. But she just nodded. "Yes."

He suddenly lifted his gaze, eyes meeting hers pleadingly. "Clara, please. Don't leave me."

She shook her head. Then, stepping out of the doorway, closed the door behind her.

She stepped back from it. Then went into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, sobbing. Why did he have to care about her so little? Why couldn't he show an ounce of compassion once in a while? She clutched her pillow to her chest but then suddenly threw it to the ground as if it had burned her. And in a way, it had. The TARDIS blue pillowcase had burned her heart.

She lay, her face buried in her blanket, fists repeatedly clenching and unclenching the fabric. The tears didn't stop for a long time. When they finally did she turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Pain washed over her in waves, bring with them guilt. She shouldn't have left that way. She should've given him a chance to listen. He was right, how could he be expected to just somehow know she was struggling? She would never have admitted she was wrong, even to herself, if he hadn't already left her forever. But he was gone now. Just like she'd wanted.

Wiping her eyes she walked back out into the living room. She was about to head into the kitchen to fix herself some tea when she froze.

The TARDIS was still there.

Coming hesitantly up to the door, she ran a finger over it, trying to fight to urge to enter. But it was too strong. Opening the door, she slipped inside.

The Doctor was kneeling on the ground, hands over his face and both resting on the console. At the sound of the door he turned his head tiredly to look. Seeing her there, framed in the doorway, he was on his feet in a moment.

"Clara? Why are you here?"

"Doctor, you're still in my living room."

"I'm sorry. " Turning away, he began to enter coordinates into the screen. Clara walked around the console so she stood across from him.

"Doctor."

He looked up, "Yes?"

She circled back to him and threw her arms around him. He stiffened under her and she couldn't help but smile at how uncomfortable he was.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "Where are we headed next?"

"You're staying?" He asked, hesitant to believe.

"Yes. I'm not leaving anytime soon."

Shaking her gently off him he finished entering in the coordinates and pulled the lever.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet. Whatever's bothering you, I want to help."

Smiling slightly, Clara slipped her arms around him again. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Now please, let go of me."

A/N: Sorry, I know it's a little unrealistic how Clara admitted she was wrong. But hey, I needed to get them back together somehow. This one was pretty painful to write. I didn't want them fighting! The video above is by SnowLightxx. Please vote and comment!!