Last Duet

"Ashildr, where are you?" Clara Oswald yelled from behind the counter of the American Diner.

The young, immortal girl who used to be a Viking when Clara first met her was inside the TARDIS console room next door, looking for something very small, but very mysterious.

"Me, what are you doing?!" Clara yelled again, starting to get impatient.

"Coming!" Ashildr replied absentmindedly, but she wasn't going to. She had just found the precious item of mystery she had tried to take a look at so many times. A tiny journal. Clara's diary.

Once, Ashildr had caught a glimpse of the dedication of the journal on the front page while Clara was writing some entry. "To the man I will always forgive and always trust." Ashildr knew it was for the Doctor. Over time, the curiosity of reading what Clara was so intently writing on it every night had grown and grown, but every time she had asked Clara about it she'd just change subject. Ashildr had tried every way to sneak a peek inside the diary, but Clara had the special talent to close it always at the right moment before she could read anything with the corner of her eyes. Finally, now Clara was too busy getting ready for their next journey, and the journal was left abandoned at the feet of the console. Now no one was able to stop Ashildr for finding out what her time-traveling companion was hiding inside it.

Ashildr grasped Clara's diary and opened it, skipping the first blank pages and the dedication page. The first written page looked like some sort of explanation.

When I was little, one of my grandfathers was diagnosed with Alzheimer. At first, I didn't understand why everybody was so concerned. He was just acting funny, he was even funnier than before. But slowly he started to become more confused, he would forget things. Small, unimportant things, then the most important ones too. In a few months, my mum taught me that I always had to introduce myself before speaking with my grandfather, as we were always meeting for the first time. It was a game, she said, but I could tell that he genuinely hadn't the slightest idea of who I was every time he saw me. I hoped I wouldn't have to experience that feeling ever again in my life, and yet it happened again. Now the most important man in my life, my best friend in the whole universe, the person I've done everything with, looks at me and doesn't recognize me. And it feels like hell.

I used to be angry with my grandfather every time he didn't remember me when I was a little girl. I used to think that he didn't really love me, or otherwise he would remember. I used to say, how could he forget his own granddaughter, such an important person in his life. But now I know I was wrong entirely. Sometimes you love someone so much that the only possible choice left is forgetting and letting go.

So, deep down, I know it's better this way. I know it's better to have a forgetful Doctor ready to save the universe from its next destroyers, than to have a Doctor willing to destroy the whole universe for the sake of a single, unimportant human. But the day I accept it will be the day I die. Again. I cannot live with the knowledge that the Doctor will never remember who I was to him and all we've done together. I can't conceive the idea that we've shared so many things I'll never forget, while he can never remember. As always, I had to get control of the situation, inventing this tiny way to try and solve the problem. I will not be erased completely from the Doctor's memory, if it's the last thing I do. In the end, there's still nothing more important than my egomania, right, Doctor?

So this journal is me, playing the game once more. The rules are the same of the game I used to play with my grandfather. I will use this diary to reintroduce myself to you, Doctor, to tell you who I am and who I was. And I will never stop doing that. Next time I'll see you, I will give you this journal, so you can read it over and over again. Even if they make you forget me one thousand times, you'll be able to read about me again and again.

This dairy is the last song of the Doctor and Clara together. Our last duet. And it'll never stop playing.

Ashildr turned the page. The following pages were filled with a sort of long list. The first items on the list were quite general, like facts and trivia.

I was born in Blackpool.

I taught English at Coal Hill.

I'm five foot one and any comparison with a Sontaran will be punished.

I'm a brilliant liar.

Then, moving through the pages, the entries were progressively becoming longer, more personal and more specific.

In all the time we've traveled together I slapped you three times. Twice when you were possessed by the Cyber-Planner (that may or may not have been an excuse to slap you anyway) and once when we were miniaturized inside a Dalek and you were acting like a stubborn five-year-old. I also slapped you every time you talked but that was usually subtext.

After that time you saved me from that spoonhead/walking wifi base station sort of thing, I always expected jammy dodgers when I woke up, but you never made breakfast again. I thought you were kind, but apparently you were just trying to make a good first impression. Disappointing. Once, you even brought me some cold coffee two weeks after I sent you to buy it. Gosh, you would have been a rubbish boyfriend.

I'd often do the marking of homework books inside the TARDIS in between adventures, usually while you were inventing some new devices or trying to fix some bits of the console. It was better than doing it at home, and seeing you arguing with gadgets and objects was always priceless. Except sometimes something would happen and I'd forget some marking on an alien planet, or some sort of creature would destroy all the homework books. Remember that time I had to give all my students full marks to avoid revealing that their homework books had been flattened by some monsters coming from a universe with only two dimensions? Probably not.

Going on reading the diary, Ashildr noticed that the entries were becoming progressively sadder and sadder.

I tried to live a normal life once. With Danny Pink, a fellow teacher, former soldier. You didn't like him much, but I think you started respecting him, and maybe even admiring him, in the end. I never explained to you why him, and probably I never even explained it to myself. Traveling through time and space was always brilliant and exciting, but I guess I needed something mine, something dependable, something under control. Anyway, after all, traveling with you was really an addiction, and I couldn't give it up. And I haven't regretted it for one moment.

I've been on Gallifrey at least three times. Four, if you count my echoes, but I can't really access all the memories from those past lives anyway. I only remember telling you which TARDIS was best to stole. But sticking strictly to the times I actually remember, once I stopped you from using the Moment to destroy the whole planet, once I told you a story to help you back to sleep - I don't think I've ever said this to you before, and once I helped you make it back out of the Cloisters. Not bad, uh? Next time I'll step on Gallifrey will be the last, though. When you read this, I'll probably be heading to see that beautiful orange sky again. Or they'd have probably put me back on Trap Street already. That's okay, I'm not scared, this is way more time than I expected.

Most days now I feel sad and furious. But I'm trying not to let it change me. I think you probably feel the same, even though you don't really understand why. But at least I'm not alone, I've got Ashildr, and she's helping me lots. We're having a great time out there, exploring the universe, and I think I'm playing the part of the Doctor quite well. I'm worried that you might be traveling on your own, and that's bad for you. Please, Doctor, don't be alone. You should never be alone. Find someone, maybe wait just a bit longer because I'm a little jealous, but then find someone else, please. Do it for me.

Exactly at the middle of the diary, there was a page missing. Ashildr tried to deduce what could had been written there from the following piece of writing, but a noise at the door stopped her.

"Who said you could read that?" Clara asked her, harshly.

"Sorry," Ashildr replied, closing the diary immediately and returning it to its owner, "I was just..."

"Curious?" Clara ended the sentence for her, "you don't see me reading your diaries without your permission, though."

"I said I'm sorry," Ashildr repeated, disdainfully.

"Except you're not," Clara said, "you're just sorry I stopped you before you could read more." She gave a quick smile to Ashildr, lightening up. Clara could never be angry with her, her irreverence was too charming.

She turned around and was about to reach the door, but Ashildr stopped her.

"Wait a second, Clara," she said.

"What now?" Clara turned back to face her companion.

"Why is there a page missing in your diary?" Ashildr asked insolently.

"Wrong question," Clara replied, "that's not what you want to know." Ashildr's eyebrows tightened. "You want to know what was written on the missing page," Clara continued.

Ashildr smirked. "So?"

Clara became instantly serious again. "What I wrote on that page is what I told the Doctor when we were alone in the Cloisters."

"And why did you have to tear the page out?" Ashildr asked.

Clara looked down. "Because I'm not going to tell those things to anybody else, ever. I'll never say those words again, not to anyone. Not even to a diary."

Ashildr was confused, but Clara wasn't willing to share any further details. She chinned up, wearing her best smile.

"Come on," she winked at Ashildr, holding out a hand to her, "we've got a whole universe to see!"

Ashildr smiled back to her, taking her hand. "Let's go!"

Author's notes: This fan fiction is a spin-off of my other story, And Remember Me ( s/11797362/1/And-Remember-Me), in which the Doctor writes a journal with all the details he manage to recall about Clara over time. The two stories are completely independent (although some day a crossover might happen, who knows) and you don't need to read both to understand what is going on, but if you enjoyed this story you might want to check out the other one too. I had this idea in mind since I started writing the other fic so I'm glad I was finally able to write it down, please let me know what you think about it and if you liked it. Also, what do you think Clara wrote on the missing page (which is to say, what do you think she told the Doctor in the Cloisters)? Let me know your theories and opinions about this fic in the comments. Thank you for reading.