A time and space machine is one thing, but there are days where she would have rather just sat there and been a child again in a planetarium.

The halls filled with people, staring up at the majesty of the stars, as they would never experience being in a ship and flying across the unknown. Planetariums offering shortened and much simpler explanations to the general public, giving them ideas and hopes for the children who come with their families or classmates to desire to belong with the astronauts. She let Me do her own thing, knowing that she'd be bored of a simple little human planetarium from a century that has been forgotten and useless to such a woman as Me. But Clara, she supposed that the simple human feel was enough for her to still be amazed, to bring herself a feel of humanity. Clara grabs a free audiobook from a stand and allows herself to be emerged into it, as she plugs in her earphones and she starts the words of the narrator. Distractions fading away, the people seem to have no longer existed. Just the words of the man, talking to her about the stars.

Rooms filled with marvels take her down, allowing her mind to just melt information she is sure she has heard before but pretends as though she has not. She smirks as the narrator explains the planets and the astronomers, especially recalling the day the Doctor had worn that ridiculous orange suit on the planet. It amused her how such a memory stuck, despite her long existence. She shook the thought as quick as it came and instead brought herself to more parts of the exhibits. She notes the keep out signs that riddle the place and frustrates her slightly, as most of the exhibits were behind these annoying signs. She supposes she could just sneak back in later, as some measly planetarium security wouldn't stop her from feeling human again. Nonetheless, the people around her amaze her equally as so. The children are running around, curiosity getting the best of them as parents and guardians try their best to reel them back in. Clara recalls her time as a teacher and as a nanny and a part of her wishes to return to such mundane, but it is too late to wish for such trivial things. She goes through the last bit of the planetarium and decides she will return, to see the areas that were closed off. Time goes quickly in the time machine, as she goes forward a few hours.

Clara comes back a few hours later, much to Me's dismay. Nonetheless, she goes. She slips through by utilizing her lockpick skills from another century ago and gets in with no problem to the keep out areas. She's amused to know that the other exhibits that were closed had audiobook parts as well. Those thoughts fade away however as she gets lost and submerged in the exhibits, forgetting how she had probably seen greater in the extended lifetime she was given. Clara finds herself at a specific point, in front of a comet. She plays her audiobook, allowing it to speak.

"Naked eye-comets like the one you see here comes around every other year or two. They are usually only visible in dark skies, yet we have had a chance to see such magnificent things. We are ever so lucky."

How she wished humanity had the privilege she had when under the Doctor's care and her own misadventures as well. Her eyes widen as the comet goes through another animation phase. She wondered how she would have been as a human. Only being able to see such fantasies in areas such as these. She is caught up in her thoughts, unaware someone was behind her. The audiobook had stopped, but the man speaks more about the comets. Clara, so wrapped into it, doesn't notice her narrator seems to have changed to a Scottish man.

"Humans have named such things, amusing as it may be. Hailey's comet is most likely the one everyone is aware of, but nowadays, humans have had a decrease in their thinking and have named new comets strange things. Comet Lovejoy has always seemed to amuse me. These pudding brains." A low chuckle escapes the man's throat.

The final words surprise Clara. Removing her earphones, she doesn't turn. Perhaps she is afraid of what she will see. She holds the nearby rail for support, the cold touch of the metal bringing her a small memory of the TARDIS, of all places. Holding onto the rails of the old girl as the Doctor spiraled them into adventures anew. Did, she supposes.

"Visiting hours have concluded for today, miss. You really shouldn't be here." The man behind her says. Maybe she could say nothing and allow herself to divulge in the idea that she has most likely placed in her mind. She's not sure. Nonetheless, she just chooses to look up the planetarium roof, staring up at the darkness that was lit with mere lights to make up for stars. She doesn't know if the man follows her gaze, but she doesn't want to say anything to break the spell. The man continues on, "Humans regard these to be ever so fascinating. There are many planets that see many of these great comets everyday. I see them all the time."

She finds the strength to speak, "Are they beautiful up close?"

"Very much so. Just like the stars in the skies of Earth and the rest of the galaxy." He is prompt and simple, giving little to no room for long descriptions. Perhaps because he knows that they aren't needed.

"How do you know?" It's a stupid question. Clara was trying to fill a void that could never be filled unless the real thing was beside her. It was the past. A past she couldn't have again. If he found it stupid, he made no mention.

"I live in them." He pauses, "That, and magic helps a lot." She wants to turn around, she wants to see the face of the man who had shown her wonders and brought her such happiness, despite the rocky start. She wanted to see the Doctor.

"Magic? I don't believe in magic." She scoffs before she could help herself. The man behind her chooses to let out another low chuckle, slow and calculated. A hand, wrinkled and bony, one that had seen trial and tribulation, came atop her own on the railing. It was warm, radiating her in ways she never could expect. It was like she was alive again, the right way. She swears that this feeling could restart her heart. Nonetheless, the hand holds onto hers.

"But you believe in impossible men." His voice is lower than the chuckle. He is not necessarily standing behind her at a vicinity that would have been out of character for the Doctor, but it is still a respectable distance. She still cannot bare to turn around, not yet. She offers no response. The entrance of the planetarium was right there, she could escape this fantasy and continue the adventures with Me. She could be in the safety of the fluorescent light of the linoleum walkway that led her here in the first place. But she doesn't. She can't. The lingering part of her is telling her to leave. This was a dead memory, something that wouldn't be real. Ever. Her mind was playing tricks, playing at her silent heart, poking it around with a stick. "Turn around, Clara."

The tenderness of his voice allows her lead feet to rise, turn around to see him. Him, in the majesty of her memory. Eyes that could pierce the worst individuals of the world, a mouth quick and daring, eyebrows that were bushier than the bushes out her old flat, and silver curls that she wouldn't mind running a hand through to feel the softness. Everything, down to the last pore was exactly the way she had seen him last. He shifts, removing his hand and bringing it to her cheek instead. Another uncharacteristic thing, but she supposes anything was possible here.

"You know this isn't real." He murmurs, looking at her with remorse.

"You don't have to tell me that." She responds, almost leaning into this touch, but catches herself. "I'm well aware."

"A planetarium is what you choose. Not the best, I'd say. Such boring displays that bring only some joy to those." His hand doesn't leave her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone gently, with such care.

"Makes people want to be like you, Doctor. Even if they're fake, they make children want to explore the universe."

"You wanted to be like me, no?"

"It was more of a joke, but in a sense, people thought I was your next regeneration in a lot of the adventures I went on. You should have seen them all, unique in their own way, yet ever so beautiful." She doesn't realize she is already crying until he wipes the tears off her face. He smiles softly at her, but the mirth was nonexistent. "I wish I had them with you."

"You have Lady Me, I take it? She's been keeping you company."

"I love her company, but it's just not the same." She is torn, knowing this is fake. All of this was fake. Every bit. But she just wanted to believe it, to think it was true.

"Sometimes, we need a little change." The words remind her of his previous regeneration. It amuses her, but the feeling passes. Instead, a wave of fatigue washes over her. Was it possible to have such a wave in a dream? She places her hand over the Doctor's and flutters her chocolate eyes closed.

Me looks at Clara, watching her shed tears in her rare sleep, which the Doctor has invaded for a short period with the simple use of technology created on another planet. The white pads that were stuck on Clara's temples contrasted to the dark blue sheets of her bed. Standing from her chair, Me walks over to the console and looks to the Doctor on the screen. He had emerged from his own bed, similar white pads on his own temples.

"Thank you." He offers his gratitude, but Me shakes her head. A small smile dances on her lips as she looks at her immortal companion.

"You're helping me, if anything. She missed you. She needed to hear your voice. It'll give her some respite." Me responds. The Doctor only looks back to Me with sadness.

"And I, as well." The Doctor removes the pads on his face and ends the transmission to the other TARDIS. He knows he shouldn't do such things, to invade the rare nap Clara puts herself through with advanced medication, but it was a short thing he could enjoy. He leaves the room and makes his way back to the console, where he knows the next adventure is awaiting.

He releases a deep sigh with each step. He doesn't wish often, but as he does everyday, he wishes that Clara Oswald, just like the rest of his living companions, will be safe, forevermore.