Chapter Five

Disclaimer : Nope, still don't own.

Crying. There were tears, sobbing really. Endless tears and an endless sense of loss and loneliness so big no one person should ever have to deal with it alone. Was this how the Doctor felt, she wondered, after the Time War and the loss of the Time Lords? Totally devastated, like the world was over and there was nothing more to live for? The world came back into focus slowly, an endless expanse of white that was blinding to look at for too long. And she was alone, but she'd known she would be. But...shouldn't she be, you know, dead? Ceasing to exist meant she shouldn't be feeling anything, which was what she'd counted on. That's what the reapers did, wasn't it? Destroyed the pocket universe a paradox in time created in order to restore the timeline? Or was she wrong?

She remembered everything, remembered leaving the Ninth and her current Doctor behind so that the world would be fixed. Maybe, without her, he'd never fall into the darkness that made him the Valeyard. He was horrible, that face. She'd still saved him without hesitation. Saved he and the man he'd been once before. Saved the Doctor, like she was meant to do. The Impossible Girl, all of time and space, always saving the jeopardy friendly gent called the Doctor.

Something was wrapped around her, and in this world it stood out starkly and drew her attention. A jacket; a black leather jacket. It was the Ninth's. But...hadn't it fallen off before, during the fight? She couldn't remember, and found herself insanely grateful for its appearance there with her. She huddled into the jacket, rubbing her face against the aged leather and wrapping her arms around herself. There were still tears, her sorrow was so strong, but it was abating. Time was on her side for once. Wherever she was, she still existed. Which meant somehow, someway, she had to find her way back to the Doctor.

"You aren't very smart are you?"

Clara shrieked and leapt to her feet, not at all noticing that she moved with the too-quick movements of a Time Lord. "Who's there?" Her voice was shrill, and carried in the void.

A loud snort and a young man appeared, walking towards her with a steady gait and a cold stare. "Not smart and you've been kept in the dark. Why in the universe he chose you for a companion I will never understand."

The hell? "Gent, you best step off before I get mad." She was already removing a shoe to hit him with. "I am in no mood to deal with another rude gent with a superiority complex a mile long and bad taste in suits."

The man stopped and started laughing, arms crossing over his chest. "Well, that's why. He always did like the feisty ones. You, Clara Oswald, may call me the Master."

Yep, that's it.

Its over.

To. Be. Continued.