"Doctor, I'm scared." Clara's voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes locked with stone. Her head itched to turn around and meet the gaze of the man she could feel stood mere feet away from her, but fear and The Doctor's insistent instructions kept her frozen firmly in place.

"I know, I know… But everything's going to be alright. I promise." The Time Lord soothed gently as his own eyes locked with yet more stone.

"You're lying." She answered instantly, her gaze still unwavering.

"I- er- well… yes." The Doctor admitted reluctantly. There was a brief pause filled only with the sound of their steady breathing before Clara opened her mouth to respond.

"Are we going to die?" He didn't need to look at her face to know that she was fighting back tears as Clara voiced her question. It tugged at both of his hearts to know that she was afraid and there was nothing he could do to comfort her. For the first time ever, there was no plan – no brilliant idea teetering on the edge of his mind that could take them both out of harm's way and land them back safe in the TARDIS. For once, The Doctor was very much out of his depth.

"No… We're not going to die." He answered quietly, to which he heard Clara's feet shuffle ever so slightly over the ground behind him.

"Then what?" She asked with morbid curiosity. A part of her honestly didn't want to know what was going to happen to them both if it wasn't death, but the other part was curious to find out what could possibly be so bad that wasn't death.

"The angels… They send you back. Back in time." The Doctor explained with a small, frustrated hand gesture. It was getting to him – Clara could tell even with her back turned towards the man with the sonic screwdriver and the not-so-cool bow tie. Not having a plan… Not having any way to save them both… It bothered The Doctor more than she could probably ever understand. It was what he did, after all; saved people. And when he couldn't… Well she couldn't bear to witness the broken look on his face.

"Time travel? So can we come back? In the TARDIS?" Clara asked in an attempt to clarify the severity of the situation. Judging from the way The Doctor was behaving, her questions were more a product of wishful thinking than any real belief that anything could be done to help the situation.

"No… Without me here to pilot her, the TARDIS will be stranded. She'll grow old and gather dust until I can come back to her the long way round." He explained with a slow shake of his head. Clara's fate would not be quite so fortunate.

"And what about me?" She voiced the question she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the answer to. What if they went back centuries? Her human lifespan would leave her dead from old age long before she'd be able to come back to the TARDIS with the eternally living Time Lord.

"You'll-," He tried and failed to get the beginning of the sentence out. "The angels… they send you back in time and let you live to death – feed off of the memories and the experiences and the life you would have had here in the present." The Doctor explained in the most matter-of-fact way possible. The thought of having to watch Clara grow old and die beside him was one he didn't particularly want in his head.

More questions pressed at the front of her mind, but the stinging in her eyes from minutes without blinking was becoming too strong to ignore any longer. "Doctor… I can't hold out much longer." She admitted, her voice taking on a slight tinge of panic.

"I know… I-," he began, the sentence cutting off in his throat. There was nothing he could do to save them, but at least they could both go down together. "On my count, turn around." The Doctor ordered gently, to which Clara responded with a nod he couldn't quite see. He took her silence as acceptance and curled his hands into nervous fists. "One, two…" He said the numbers slowly, hesitating slightly before opening his mouth to say the last one; "Three!"

In a flash they both span round to face each other. The Doctor's hands came up to cup Clara's face in the space of the same second, tugging her lips to within inches of his and then-

"Exterminate!" The eerily familiar robotic voice sounded in the graveyard as stone shattered to pieces around them. The Doctor's eyes opened wide in surprise, his cheeks flushing as a slightly miffed Clara stared up at him with one eyebrow raised. He wasn't sure what was worse – the fact that he had been caught very nearly locking lips with his admittedly rather pretty companion, or that there was at least one Dalek currently stood behind him. If weeping angels had been bad, this was catastrophic.

"Doctor?" Clara's voice sounded among the confusion as she attempted to knock the Time Lord out of his suddenly frozen state. Apparently the mention of his name was all it took to jolt him back into action, but it wasn't his companion's voice that registered in his head – it was that of one of the Dalek's behind them.

"Ruuuuuuun!" He bellowed as he grabbed Clara's hand in a vice grip and promptly leapt over the remains of a weeping angel. Dragged off with no say in the matter, Clara was forced to stumble over the crumbled stone and attempt to force her legs to keep up with The Doctor's far longer ones.

Close behind them, the sound of Dalek fire could be heard; bouncing off of gravestones and memorials as the pair weaved their way through the graveyard in a bundle of long limbs and short choppy strides. The Doctor only hoped that he'd remembered to leave the TARDIS somewhere conveniently nearby.