A Collection of Whouffle

Visiting Hours

GUYS, THIS IS IMPORTANT! Alright...so since the last time I updated, I've only gotten one prompt sent in. And they're usually always sent in by the same person. They send in really good prompts, and I really love writing them, but I know there is more than one person out there reading this, and I really want you guys to share what you want written! Don't hold back! I will literally write anything (as long as it's not racist, sexist, etc.) So please, please, PLEASE send them in.

Prompt: The Doctor goes back to visit Clara while she's on her deathbed. (She had stopped traveling with him at some point.) Twelfth Doctor.

Sent in anonymously by the lovely aforementioned person who has been sending in a huge amount of prompts. Enjoy!

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The Doctor landed the TARDIS, dashing out of it like his life depended on it. And to him, it did. A nurse from some hospital in the 21 century had just called him, telling him something about a Miss Clara Oswald and how she was expected to not make it through the night. The Doctor haspdnt really been listening; all he heard was 'Clara' and 'dying'.

To him, Clara had left him only three years ago. He didn't have a new companion, instead he worked on the TARDIS, still sulking that she had left him. To be fair, she was getting pretty old, and according to her, she had to start acting her own age at some point. This had gotten the Doctor thinking that maybe he should, too. But what fun would that be? He was too old to act his own age.

He had parked directly outside of the hospital, and was now running to the front doors of the massive building that stood before him. He threw them open, exaggerating his movements as if it would help him reach Clara any faster.

"What room is Clara Oswald in?" He asked the receptionist hurriedly.

Once he had found what room and passed through the countless reception desks and filled out some paper work saying he was who he indeed said he was, he ran into Clara's room to see her attached to an IV and a heart monitor.

"Hey."

"Doctor! How long has it been for you? It feels like ages for me...well I suppose it has been ages, hasn't it?" Clara said, her once dull eyes now shining at the sight of her favorite person in the world.

"Three years. And probably some of the most miserable three years of my life. I missed you so much, Clara. I got a call from a nurse...what happened?" The Doctor asked worriedly, his Scottish accent coming through more as he talked quieter.

"I'm not entirely sure. I got sick...and then passed out, and I was brought here. I'm only 65, for god's sake. They said they don't expect me to last through the night, so I asked them to call you for me."

"I can probably cure you or something," he said, holding back tears.

"No. This was meant to happen for a reason. I don't know what yet, but hey, I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually."

The Doctor and Clara spent the next five hours talking and catching up. They mostly remembered their many adventures, and there was laughing and crying. Clara made a few jokes about how now they looked about the same age, and the Doctor kept assuring her that she didn't look a day over 20. A nurse came in and let the couple know that visiting hours only lasted for another 20 minutes, so it was time to say goodbye.

"Alright. Doctor. This is important. No interruptions, none of that stuff. I'm pretty confident that the best day of my entire life was when you showed up on my doorstep dressed as a monk. And then everyday after that that one was the second best. They just kept getting better. You know why I never got married? Because when I traveled with you...you made me feel alive. You made me feel things that I had never felt before. And no one else can do that the same way you can. I love you. I'm absolutely positive, too. You are perfect even when you goof up.

"It feels good to finally get that off of my chest. Chin-boy, you and your snog box are going places. Make sure you spare me a thought now and then, okay?" Clara finished, crying.

"Oh Clara. Clara. Clara. I love you, too. That's why I came looking for you. You've saved my life so many times, and the one time I need to save yours and you won't even let me. This is so unfair. You're too young and beautiful and perfect to die. I could try to give you the entire universe and it still wouldn't be enough. And I thought we agreed no more Chin-boy? I don't have a big chin anymore," the Doctor said. He was crying now.

He leaned towards her and hugged her, them kissed the top of her head. Clara grabbed his hands and pulled her lips towards his. Their lips crashed together, teeth colliding and tongues gaining immediate access into each other's mouths. The nurse came in and politely cleared her throat, announcing the time for the Doctor to leave.

They separated, both breathless. The Doctor got up reluctantly, smiling sadly at the woman sitting in front of him. She returned the smile, both saying exactly what they needed to in those smiles and eyes. He turned to walk out the door when he heard a small voice from behind him.

"See you around, Chin-boy."

"Catch ya later, Impossible Girl."

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