A Collection of Whouffle

Freedom

Well, this one was sent in anonymously, and I love the prompt. But unfortunately for all of you, I cannot tell you the prompt because it would completely ruin the prompt. Just know that it is an AU. This book has a PG-13 rating and that will come through in this chapter. Grab the tissues if you're a bit sensitive; this one's depressing.

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John saw it on the news five months ago now. He still couldn't cope with the loss, even with Clara right by his side. It was hard for both of them, but not as hard for Clara as John.

"John, did you still want to go to the film today?" Clara asked him, putting his plate of food down in front of him. Truthfully, he wasn't up to do anything today.

"Not today, Clara. I just can't," he said, looking up at her. She had tears brimming in her eyes too, and he pulled her onto his lap for a hug. "But don't worry, it'll all be over soon."

"What's that mean?" Clara asked. She was answered a shake of the head.

*******

John looked at pictures of the five of them together; Amy, Rory, River, Clara, and John. All good friends. Until one drunk driver ripped three of them out of Clara and John's lives. He ran his finger over their faces and put the picture back where he got them. It would all be over soon.

John knew that Clara had been harming herself lately, and Clara knew that he was doing the same. The only thing that really kept them alive was the fact that the other was in their lives. Otherwise they probably would've checked out a long time ago.

Clara walked into the room and was wearing a dress that Amy and River had bought her over a year ago for her birthday. John always liked that dress; it fit her perfectly without being too fancy. It showed off her collar bone a little bit and John saw the tiniest edge of a scar. He stood up and walked over to her, brushing her hair off of her shoulder.

"You did it again," he said. He lent down and kissed her collarbone on the spot where the scar was. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I know you do it to, you know. I can't deal with losing them, John. And I know you've been having a tougher time than I have," she said.

He kissed her scar again and moved the fabric of her dress away from the rest of the scar. It was brand new.

"Not as bad as this," he said. Clara was met with a kiss on her neck this time, and then a kiss on her cheek. "But it'll all be over soon." This only worried Clara more.

******

Clara walked into their bedroom to find John there, sitting at his desk, crying. He had a gun sat on the desk, ready to go if he decided he needed it.

"John?"

"Clara...I just can't anymore, I'm sorry," he sobbed.

"John, we'll get through this. Soufflé Girl and Chin Boy. That's what we do," Clara said. She approached the desk so she could grab the gun, but it had found its way into John's hand. "Please don't."

"Clara, I love you so much. But I cannot live another day knowing that I was supposed to be in that car, and that maybe, just maybe, if they had come to pick me up and I hadn't cancelled, then they would still be alive," he said. He had stopped crying and was now whispering.

"John, it's not your fault. I love you...so...if you do this, I'll do it right after you."

"No, Clara. You're too perfect and beautiful. The world needs you. Do not do this because I do," he pleaded.

"The world needs you, too. I can't lose four of the best people in my life. Three was enough, so if you go, I go."

"Clara, you know I don't have a choice..."

"Well then neither do I," Clara said. She kissed his cheek and nodded. Both knew that this would happen and both knew that it needed to happen. The pain, the suffering, the everything would be over, and they would get to see their friends in whatever afterlife there was.

One shot was heard, and then another. John and Clara were finally free.

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Prompt: Amy, River, and Rory die, so John (the Doctor) commits suicide, followed shortly thereafter by Clara. Did you enjoy? Let me know by voting, commenting, and following. Please send in more prompts and I will get them done ASAP. Love you guys!

(I told you I would write anything. ANYTHING.)