The Doctor debated taking Clara back to the TARDIS, but decided to wait until she woke up naturally. He had been so alarmed by her sudden hysterics he'd finally put her to sleep with a gentle mental nudge before she hurt herself. Dad skills. The joke somehow didn't seem so funny anymore. Definitely Dad skills, she's like a daughter to you, he reminded himself. If he kept repeating it over and over he might start to believe it.

He found his boxers before starting anything else. Sand is, of course, a pernicious enemy that attacks where you least suspect it. He draped Clara in his coat, noting the temperature was beginning to drop as one of the suns was dipping below the horizon. She would probably sleep a while. Clara's little body had been through quite the ordeal even before her near-drowning. He admitted to himself he was tired as well. He'd thought both his hearts would stop when her head had oh-so-calmly disappeared under the water.

Briefly he wondered whether the lagoon really was haunted. That could be fun, or at least not-boring. He hadn't found a proper ghost in quite some time. He'd have to survey the local population, perhaps set up a stake-out. With coffee. Coffee was good. Clara, of course, would whine and complain and quail in fear, then get mad at him and rise to the challenge. Or, perhaps not. Clara didn't fear much anymore.

Clara was becoming more like him.

It troubled him. Sometime after his long exile on Trenzalore she'd begun to change. Was it then? His memories from those first hours of his regeneration were hazy. She'd been upset. He'd blamed it on his newly gray hair. Was that when she'd stopped trusting him? Perhaps. Perhaps Pink hadn't been the cause of it all, but a reaction. I'm not your boyfriend, Clara. It had been a preemptive strike, of course. He'd seen fear and rejection in her eyes, and thought it had to be his new face. Oh Clara. He'd thought leaving her to live out her life with Danny was the best choice for her. He should have been paying better attention.

He stared into the flames of the small fire he'd built, the salts from the driftwood causing the flames to burn in exotic colours. It had taken some creative tinkering to get the fire started without matches. The sonic still didn't work on wood. One of these days he would remember to fix that. He was debating rummaging through his pockets to see if any emergency marshmallows were stashed there when Clara started making signs of waking up.

Giving her a moment to regain a little dignity, he walked down to the water's edge. The water that had looked so inviting earlier seemed colder now, and much darker with one sun completely set, and the other on it's way. All kind of dark things can hide beneath a still surface like that. A soft rustle in the sand told him Clara was standing next to him.

"I thought you knew, you know."

"Knew what?"

"About the Ambien. And the rest of it. You wrote 'you are dying' on all those chalkboards at Gran's."

"I was trying to warn you the Dream Crabs were killing you."

"I know that now." Clara shivered, wrapped in his coat and not much else. He should probably look for her clothes before it got too dark to see. Instead he sat her down by the fire. The heat felt nice on his hands as well. This body had a touch of arthritis sometimes. He sat close beside her. For warmth. "But that was what I wanted, that night."

"You don't now?"

"No." She didn't sound completely sure of herself. "I don't. I don't think I do. It all...it all just got to be to much, you know?"

"Yes." The Doctor reflected on his own darkest moments as Clara fell silent.

"How far along were you?"

Clara blinked, the question seeming to come out of nowhere. She looked like she was going to pretend she didn't understand the question, but the stretch marks on her abdomen were unmistakable. Even if he hadn't seen her NHS records. "When?"

"When you tried to steal the TARDIS."

Clara didn't answer for a moment, but stared into the fire as though she would find the answer written on the flames there. "Three months." She swallowed. "Just a little over three months."

"Did he know?"

"No. I couldn't get up the courage to tell him. Not in person. I had to write myself a sticky note. To tell him. I was going to. And then the car..." She sucked in a quick breath before she could continue. "And then I never got to tell him."

The Doctor thought he was beginning to understand. She was quiet for a while, just listening to the crackling of the fire and the soft splashes from the water. He didn't say anything, and it was a while before she spoke again.

"I started to bleed at the end of the sixth month. He was a little boy. Clara's voice was flat. Unemotional. "There was nothing they could do."

The Doctor was not fooled. Almost of its own volition, his arm wrapped around one thin shoulder, then the other. She stiffened at first, then rested her face against his chest. It felt awkward at first, the hugging, but the Doctor thought he was getting the hang of it. It was actually quite nice to hold Clara tight against him. More than nice. She made no sound but the firelight caught the shine of the tears that quietly streaked her face.

The Doctor added up the dates in his head. If he had the Earth dates correct, she would have been around 4 months gone during their meeting in the cafe. The loose clothes she wore would have easily hid the signs. And she was, of course, an accomplished liar by now. And he, of course, hadn't been paying attention. She must have lost the baby shortly after her grandmother, not long before Christmas. Before she'd recovered even from losing Pink, and...and his own abandoment. He felt a flash of anger at Clara's remaining family. No one should have gone through all that alone.

"How do you do it, Doctor?"

"How do I do what, Clara?"

"Keep going? When everyone is gone? When it's all your fault." Oh Clara, you don't know what guilt really is. He thought back on all the deaths he had caused, the planets that had burned, and the friends and lovers he had lost. His own family.

"Well, I run alot," he admitted. "Run before they get too close, before it hurts too much. I spent a century on a cloud, once, mourning"

"On a cloud?"

"It took someone fairly impossible to break my shell."

Clara's eyes grew wide as she pondered that. "Someone impossible?"

"Very impossible." Clara lifted her head, staring him in the eyes for the first time in as long as he could remember. He couldn't guess what she was thinking. Slowly, slowly she leaned her head into him. He stopped breathing for a moment, then she softly kissed his cheek.

"Running. Running sounds good."

The Doctor took her hand gently. "Running is dangerous, though. Sometimes our problems catch up to us."

"But its fun though, yeah?"

"Yes, it is fun."

"I think..." she took a deep breath "I think I would fancy an adventure."

"Would you?"

"Oh, shut up and give me some planets." It was small, but the Doctor was sure he saw the hint of a smile.

"Yes, boss." He stood up so abruptly Clara's legs dangled in the air a moment before he released her. "TARDIS, Clara, now!" Holding her hand, purely so she wouldn't trip in the dark with her inferior human eyesight, he told himself, he started racing for the ship, pulling her along in his wake. It startled an honest laugh out of her.

"Doctor, our clothes!" she reminded him, laughing, tripping in the soft sand.

"Oh, leave them. Let them wonder. Maybe the ghosts left them behind."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere fun." He stopped abruptly. "Clara, you must promise me something."

"What is it?" She was still laughing a bit, not quite catching up with his sudden gravity.

"Clara, I'm serious."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Promise me you won't be reckless? I can't have you getting addicted to adrenaline just because of a few tragedies. It is still dangerous out there."

"I'm never reckless, Doctor."

"No, of course not."

The Doctor and Clara will return in the Magician's Apprentice

A/N Hope this answers a few questions, and maybe raises a few more. I wanted to explore Clara's motivations during Last Christmas a bit further, I hope you have enjoyed delving the deeps with me! I had planned to stop here, but if there is enough interest (PM or note that in the review section) I may continue throughout Series 9, working with the canon as we know it. Until then, let us enjoy our Clara Oswin Oswald while we still have her!