[A.N: HOW GOOD WAS KILL THE MOON THOUGH? Ugh, it was so emotional and amazing. We're just gonna include the decision that Clara was faced with in KTM alongside Courtney's death cause it's pretty major in her character development and unavoidable.

We really appreciate the feedback you guys gave for the first chapter and we're still really enjoying writing this. Stuff's gonna get pretty serious and dark pretty quick, so ratings are gonna get increased to M after chapter 3. (Just a warning before sensitive stuff comes out.) Again, enjoy reading and your feedback is hella encouraging and appreciated.]

After the initial wave of hysteria had passed, Clara explained the entire situation to Danny.

"We had a dreadful decision to make, and he completely abandoned me. The one time all the time travelling and knowledge could have really helped to make a difference, he just upped and left. I had nothing but my morals to go from and even then I almost made the wrong decision. I almost let a helpless, innocent life be lost because I was afraid. But of course, that's exactly when he decided to show up acting all high and mighty. It was as if we were an experiment for his entertainment, 'Let's see if the apes destroy their future or not!' and to make things even more humiliating, he knew all along what the right choice was!"

Danny looked mildly perplexed, with a slight air of smugness about him. Clara pushed on.

"We were stuck between a room of these monsters - huge, deadly bacteria - and Courtney wasn't fast enough to get into the next room. He could have saved her, I could have saved her, but the Doctor was too damn stubborn to even give her a chance to live. Everything's just black and white with him. There's no grey areas. It's either right or wrong, good or bad and even then, once the choice is made, that's it! He just expects everyone to move on and be as morally inept as he is! I just couldn't put up with it anymore. I'm fed up being the emotional output for him to abuse. I don't want to be the one to put everything right when he makes a mess-"

"I told you he would cross the line."

"Danny, don't." That wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. She wanted him to listen to her and only speak when she was finished.

"No, Clara. I'm being honest here. I knew men like him. It was the same when I served. They kept pushing and pushing me until it wasn't what I loved anymore. They changed me to fit their procedures and I don't want that happening to you. I don't want you to get hurt. No, I didn't want you to get hurt, yet here you are." Everything Danny had said made perfect sense to Clara but she still couldn't help but disagree with him and feel like there was a subtle patronising tone to his words.

Glaring at him, she sat up to meet his eyes before she spoke, monotone and sombre.

"I'm not really up for the whole 'I was right' speech. I get it enough from him as it is."

He paused, sighing before continuing on, "I'm not trying to patronise you, I'm just being truthful Clara. He's pushing you to your limits and beyond. He put you in a position that you never should have been in and you know that! He got a young girl killed, for God's sake!"

"Don't talk down to me as if I'm one of your students! I knew what I was doing it and it's not the first time I've had to fend for myself, it was just… him. I knew he had changed but just not that much in that way. He's too unpredictable now and when I look in his eyes now I see nothing… Nothing that I used to see," she cleared her throat, piecing her voice back together before continuing, "And it scares me. I don't see the wonders of exploring the universe anymore, I see death as a daily occurrence. He sees it as an occupational hazard."

Clara had to admit that she didn't feel safe around the Doctor anymore. Of course, she was aware that she was never safe in the first place - but she always had that knowledge that she could rely on him. He always had her back and his reliability was never in doubt. No stunts, no gimmicks to put her at the heart of whatever "plan" it was he had with absolutely no regards for her feelings; but now it was a completely different matter. It was only until they were faced with a particularly dangerous situation that Clara realised just how much her trust in him was depleting. She was always left questioning if he'd be coming back or if she would be stranded to live out the rest of her days or, worse than that, lose all her remaining days at once.

They were interrupted by the buzzing of Danny's phone, the piercing shrill of his ringtone only served to anger Clara further. He answered it and gave his full attention to the caller on the other end of the line. It was clearly urgent, otherwise he wouldn't have taken it now.

"I'm really sorry. I have to go. It's my doctor," he explained as he hung up while looking at his phone. He failed to notice the faint flash of hurt that graced her features for a moment upon hearing the word. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her mouth as his hand cupped her cheek. "I'll see you soon," he said as his thumb stroked over her cheekbone and he looked into her unfocused eyes.

Curled on her sofa, everything went numb. It was now Clara realised how truly alone she was. All she had was the Doctor and Danny. No real friends and she grew distant from most of her family after Christmas. Not her father, though. But how exactly would she tell him the whole story? She needed someone beside her now. Someone who understood and who she could truly vent to. She found herself wishing the Doctor was at her side. The old Doctor. Her Doctor. She yearned to look into those kind, old-but-young eyes and hug him and feel him hug her back instead of trying to get away telling her he "wasn't a hugging person". She craved the hand that reached out and grasped hers before they rushed head-first into something dangerous. She needed someone to cling to for support, someone who would cradle her face in his hands and kiss her forehead as he whispered her name like a prayer. But instead, she was left in her empty apartment, constricted by her overwhelming anguish and suffocated by the feeling of bitter, ugly loneliness that washed over her.

The Doctor rose from his leather armchair, propping the book he was previously studying back on one of the numerous shelves that lined the edge of the console room. He stood for a moment, surveying the vast and desolate space. It was so empty now and he could feel it as he stalked down to the console, absent-mindedly viewing the display on the screen. The TARDIS was quiet. Too quiet. He could hear every movement of air, the soft groans as the ship lay suspended in the Vortex. He'd been there for a while. Or at least, it felt like a long time. He wasn't in the mood to help anyone recently; the appetite for adventure was gone for now. He was too busy trying to figure out what it was he had done to upset Clara so greatly. Sure, he could understand her grievance over Courtney but it wasn't his fault the kid got herself killed. She didn't move fast enough and that wasn't his problem. He wasn't going to jeopardise all of their lives by opening the bacteria ridden section back up again just to save one life that was already gone. He took the moral decision to sacrifice one life to save more. Simple.

Then he gave Clara the opportunity to make the decision that changed the course of humanity. He knew she would make the right choice, of course - he wouldn't have gave her the power if he doubted her potential. Clara, the self-titled control freak, worked great on adrenaline after all and he'd decided that was her biggest asset; so he gave her control, showed her his respect for her and she crumbled. He trusted her and that was him showing her, so why couldn't she see that? Humans baffled him sometimes.

He pondered over the question of if he should apologise. It wasn't his problem she overreacted after all. He did what he thought was right and he was going to stick to it. However, the more important question was: could he even apologise? Emotions were difficult in this body. He felt them, granted, but they were just difficult to express. They got trapped somewhere between his mind and his mouth, lost in translation. It was easier to show them through acts, as he demonstrated on the Moon but yet they were still misunderstood.. He just couldn't win.

The empty TARDIS accentuated the fact that he missed Clara's presence. It took circumstances like these for him to discern the extent of the impact that she had on him. He couldn't help but confess that he needed her by his side, to set him right when he got lost in the moment and pressed boundaries, but for now he had to give her space - as if he wasn't creating enough between them as it is.

The long and lonely years on Trenzalore made the Doctor realise just how much decay he initiates. He spent countless nights counting all the lives he had destroyed just by entering them and he was not prepared to let that happen to Clara. His Clara, his Impossible Girl. The only solution was to back away and to tear himself away from the attachment that had already formed. After regenerating, he'd admitted that it was his mistake that she'd painted him in that light and he consciously vowed to back away, to protect her, but he found that these new hands still longed for her touch. Those gentle reassurances that she was definitely real and beside him; but he simply could not let them become stained with her blood. There was already enough on them as it was, so he kept them to himself and suppressed the senses' need. He made clear from the beginning that he "wasn't the hugging type" to prevent any temptations from arising and when she did lay a hand upon his shoulder, or wrap her arms around his frame, he instantly became rigid and cold as if to freeze over the warmth of her affections.

Perhaps this was the time to let her go. He could feel the end getting closer with every Wednesday that passed and although temptation always brought him back to her apartment, the fear that the next trip could be her last constantly rang like an alarm in the back of his mind. He naturally assumed that she would calm down and return after a short while but her last words were particularly conclusive and perhaps this was the escape that he needed her to use, so, with a few maneuvers around the console, he piloted the TARDIS to it's next destination. It was time for him to go on alone.

He always ended up alone.