Clara fell. Hard. The wind was knocked out of her when her back hit the ground. Desperately, tear tracks staining her cheeks, she twisted and turned, trying to get any indication of where she was.

She couldn't see the ground, it was covered in mist.

She could hear…something. She didn't know what. "Doctor?" She'd planned to shout the word, but it came out quietly. "Doctor!" This time she managed to shout, but still, no one came. She felt the tear well up again. "Please, please. I don't know where I am!" She sobbed, planting her forearms against the ground and hiding her face.

"Clara," an unfamiliar voice echoed. She gasped and lifted her head. "You can hear me, I know you can." The voice continued. It was a woman's voice with a south London accent.

"I can't see you," Clara whispered. "Who are you? Where's The Doctor?"

"I know," the voiced replied with an amused tone. "I'm a ghost. A companion lost long ago. The Doctor is everywhere. You're in his time stream. Just look. Everything and everyone you see is The Doctor."

An old man walked past her quickly, not acknowledging her. Clara swallowed and smiled slightly. "I see him."

"I know," the voice echoed, amused again.

Version after version of The Doctor ran by Clara. "All his different faces, they're all here."

"Yes. Those are him. They're ghosts, same as me. We're all his past." A version with a ridiculously long scarf ran by her, but the voice continued, unhindered. "Every day is here. Good, bad, terrifying…all of his days."

Clara flinched when she heard a male scream. It could only be The Doctor, and thunder clashed immediately after. She was knocked over by something she couldn't see.

"I'm not sure what's happening," Clara told the voice.

"I know," the female voice replied for the third time. "I'm in The Doctor's time stream. I'm here for you. But I don't belong here. Not anymore. My stream is crashing against his, and they're collapsing each other."

"Well get out then!" Clara shouted.

"Weren't you listening? I'm here for you. Which means until I have you, I'm staying." Why was this woman here for her? Who was she, even?

"I don't even know who I am," Clara sobbed.

"Clara," the voice was gentle, "You're his impossible girl. We have to do the impossible to be with him, you and I." Clara began to panic. "Breathe, Clara. Look up. I'm going to send you something. Not from The Doctor's past, not from mine. I'm sending you something from yours."

Clara looked up and her eyes caught the orange-red leaf, fluttering in the non-wind. She stood to get a better look. "That leaf, Clara, that leaf is you. It's everything you were or ever will be. Take it." The soft voice told her. Clara reached for the leaf and grasped it in her fingers. "Good," the voice told her. "You blew into the world on this leaf, Clara. Hold on to it. It's going to take you home."

With tear filled eyes, Clara began to walk (or rather, limp) around the desolate time stream.

"Clara!" A voice called. It was the same as before, but it sounded more human, as though it were coming from one specific person. "Clara, come on!"

Clara turned to see a blonde woman in a pink t-shirt and black trousers standing a few feet behind her. Her hair was golden, matching was looked like liquid gold eyes. "Come to me, Clara. You can do it. I know you can." The blonde held out her hand.

"How?" Clara demanded.

The girl smiled. "Because, sweet girl, it's impossible. And you're the impossible girl." She didn't sound rushed, or desperate, but calm and trusting. Her voice was soft and reassuring. Clara began to walk toward the girl. "You've saved him so many times, Clara. I've left him in good hands. Sometimes, you're the one that needs saving." She was still holding out her hand.

"Why can't The Doctor come get me?" Clara asked, knowing she sounded like a petulant child but desperate to see a familiar face.

"He wants to," the girl promised her. "He wants to so much, but entering his own time stream with damage faster than I can. He's trying to get to you, sweet girl, but I'm not letting him. I'm not letting him so that when we get out, he's still alive."

Clara continued to walk toward the smiling blonde. "Are you real?" She whispered.

"Yes," came the soft answer. "Trust me."

Clara reached out her hand and grabbed the blonde's feeling relieve rage through her body. She let out a sob.

The blonde gave her hand a squeeze. "Come on, then. None of that. We're going to get out, you and I, and you'll be back with him."

Clara had been looking at the girl's face, so she noticed when the blonde got distracted. Clara followed when the blonde was looking, and her gaze fell on the back of an old man, whose coat seemed to weigh down his shoulders. "Who's that?" She asked quietly.

"The same person as everyone here except you and me." The blonde told her. Her voice was soothing, and Clara let it wash over her.

"But I never saw that one." Clara argued. "I saw all of his faces, all eleven. My Doctor, he's the 11th."

The blonde's smile wavered. "Yes and no. The Doctor doesn't think about him. He refuses to call this one The Doctor."

"I don't understand," Clara looked back to the blonde.

"It has to do with his real name." The blonde said, trying to force the smile back on her face. "The Doctor is the name he chose, and in doing that he made a promise. That one, The Doctor believes, broke the promise."

"I feel…" Clara began to feel light headed, and the blonde looked at her in alarm.

"Clara? Clara!" The blonde grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "Clara, you have to stay awake. Faint when you're with him, but not now, Clara. I can't carry you."

"What I did, I did without choice," a gruff voice said. The blonde looked at him, the back to Clara, who was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Clara, eyes on me, understand?" She whispered. Clara tried. "This is going to hurt. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I don't have a choice." The blonde's voice shook. With her free hand, she placed her finders on Clara's temple. Immediately, Clara felt as though she'd been hit with an electric shock. She yelped. "I know, I know, I'm sorry!" The blonde told her.

Whatever she had done, it worked, and Clara felt aware.

"In the name of peace and sanity," the gruff voice continued.

"He will tell you it wasn't in his name," The blonde sighed. She turned to Clara. "Now, listen to me. He needs you now more than he's ever needed you before. What's coming…what's coming will be so terrible that he will need to have you there."

"Will you be there?" Clara asked. If this woman was so important, she would be there for The Doctor's hardships.

The blonde gave her a sad smile. "In a way, I suppose. He will know me when he needs to. But Clara, I've had my turn. It's yours now. I love him, Clara. For centuries, I've loved him. Take good care of him."

She gave Clara's hand a tug. "Hold onto me. This is going to be uncomfortable."

She was right. It was beyond uncomfortable. Clara screamed as the blonde took them through the time stream and back to reality.

"Clara!" The Doctor's voice called. The discomfort had passed, and Clara opened her eyes to find herself face to face with The Doctor. She felt her knees buckle, but as she fell, The Doctor caught her.

"Oh Clara," The Doctor hugged her tightly. "How did you get out? I tried to so hard to get in, but I couldn't. Are you alright?"

"She helped me." Clara murmured.

"Who?" The Doctor demanded. Who was in his time stream? Probably, he reasoned, whoever had been keeping him out.

"That blonde girl. With the gold eyes." Clara tried again.

"The blonde?" The Doctor repeated. Could it be? No, it wasn't possible.

"She said that we had to be impossible." Clara told him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Alarmed, The Doctor looked up, into his time streamed. His eyes widened when he saw the ghost of a familiar face. She looked much the same. She was wearing the same clothes she had been when he'd seen her last. She looked untroubled and beautiful, smiling widely at him, her tongue poking out.

"Thank you," he whispered to her, She gave him a soft smile and an almost imperceptible nod before she disappeared.

His pink and yellow human saving his impossible girl.

Saving him.

Just as it should be.