We All Change

Clara tucked her knees closer to her chest, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. A knock at the door made her jump, but she made no attempt to speak or get up.

"Clara?" A deep Scottish voice said gently. "I know you're in there."

"Leave me alone."

The man sighed and Clara heard him walk away, his footsteps getting quieter and quieter.

She buried her face into her knees, trying desperately not to cry. Se felt bad for sending him away. He didn't mean to upset her. But he had changed. He wasn't the person she knew anymore. He wasn't HER Doctor. She wanted her Doctor. She needed her Doctor.

But he had died. He had died and been replaced by this Scottish fool who was almost as easily confused as Strax.

"Bashful! Sneezy! Dopey! Grumpy!" The Doctor was wandering around, wringing his hands. He suddenly spotted Madame Vastra and Jenny, and pointed at them. "Ooh! You two! The green one. And the not-green one. Or it could be the other way around. Mustn't judge." He walked a little more, and came face to face with Clara, who looked extremely confused. He turned back to Vastra and Jenny, gesturing towards his companion. "Oh, you remember... thingie. The not-me one. The asking questions one. Names aren't my area."

"Clara!" The brunette said, exasperated. She didn't understand how this man could be the Doctor. He was rude, confused, totally unaware of everything (including himself), and he didn't even know how to fly the TARDIS.

"Well it might be Clara, might not be. There's a lot to it." Oh, and he was completely deluded.

She felt that this new Doctor should make her laugh - he had a manner about him which made him rather hilarious to watch. But at the same time, something about him seemed dark. Clara couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt that it may be linked to what she had been told a long time ago by an empathic psychic in a creepy "haunted" house.

"What about you and the Doctor?" Emma Grayling had asked.

"Oh, I don't think so." Clara laughed a little.

"Good."

Clara was confused. "Sorry?"

"Don't trust him. There's a sliver of ice in his heart."

Clara had a feeling that she was just getting acquainted with that sliver of ice. And it scared her. It scared her to think that, the whole time the Doctor had seemed like a boisterous, excited puppy, there was a part of him buried deep within that didn't even know what a bedroom was.

"So you've got a whole room for not being awake in? But what's the point? You're just wasting the room. And don't look in that mirror. It's absolutely furious."

Clara looked around her own bedroom. She had loved it. She felt like the TARDIS had tried her best to suit it to her personality, although she couldn't help but notice that the door always seemed to open out into an entirely different place in the ship. It took her at least an hour every night to just find it.

She glanced at her door, wondering if the Doctor might come back. But found herself being distracted by a package on her desk. It was very small, and covered in clutter, so she had no idea how long it had been there.

She made her way over to her desk. Now she saw that the package was sitting on top of her book 101 Places To See, and it was glowing slightly.

She picked it up, seeing a little card underneath it. On the front of the envelope, in rather scruffy handwriting, was her name. Ripping it open, she began to read.

Dear Clara,

I hate to think how you must be feeling at this moment. To lose such a special friend is always hard, and I have watched the Doctor go through this pain enough times to know how you feel. I know the Doctor meant a lot to you, perhaps even more than you thought yourself.