TALES OF WHOUFFLE

25. If I Never Knew You

QUICKLY QUICKLY BEFORE YOU READ!!!
PLEASE PLEASE PLEAAASSSEEEE LISTEN TO THE SONG IVE ATTACHED TO THIS CHAPTER. TRY NOT TO CRY. I DARE YOU.

She had tried. She had tried and tried and tried, but no matter how hard she did, it was always there. The thought lingered in Clara's head constantly, never fading or drifting away. All she wanted to do was forget the pain. And that was the only thing she couldn't do. It was her fault that he was going to die. All her fault -

The corridors of the building were dim and eerie as she slowly tiptoed through them. Rows of bright white doors passed her, but none of them interested her. No, the only thing she was content with was finding the door. The bright, blood red door, which she soon discovered was at the end of the this never-ending blackness that she walked through.

Her hands grasped the doorknob and she inhaled deeply, feeling her heart sink to the bottom of her chest. She shouldn't have to do this . . .

The door creaked open, displaying the cell. There was a small window that let in the light from the stars of the night sky, and Clara could see a silhouette tied to a post in the centre of the small room, kneeling down with his hands around the post.

She approached him slowly, catching more of his features. His white shirt was ripped from the brute force of the guards man-handling him everywhere, and his dark brown hair was obscuring his face. He bowed his head so he didn't look at her, but she crouched down and carefully lifted his chin with her finger. As his green eyes met her brown ones, he gasped.

"Clara -"

Clara cupped his face with her small, delicate hands, looking into his eyes. His big sad eyes. "I'm so sorry." She choked, burying her head into his chest and clutching him tightly. How he longed to hold her in his arms, to tell it was going to be okay, to be free.

"For what? This?" He asked as he looked down at himself; a broken man, both physically and metaphorically. "I've gotten out of worse scrapes than this. Can't think of many right now, but -"

"It would've been better if we'd have never met, none of this would've happened." Clara interrupted, lifting herself from him and turning away, kneeling down on the cold floor.

It hurt him to see her like this. "Clara Oswald, look at me." He waited patiently for her to turn her head, and she did. Her eyes were watering, she was about to cry. "I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you." Clara's hand found a place on his chest, feeling the beat of his two hearts.

"If I never knew you," he continued, "I wouldn't be here right now. You saved me, Clara. If I never felt this love, I would never know how precious life truly can be." Clara nuzzled her head back into his chest, and his gaze followed her. "If I never held you, I would've never have at last found the missing part of me."

Hot tears were spilling down Clara's cheeks now, wetting the Doctors shirt slightly. She pressed a small kiss onto the fabric as his voice quietly rambled on before lifting her head upwards again, seeing his handsome face gazing back.

"I can see the pain you're feeling, Clara. I can see it crystal clear, in those eyes. So dry your eyes." His face leaned closer to hers, noses touching as Clara's eyes fluttered closed in an attempt to suppress her tears. "I'm so grateful to you. I'd have been lost forever if it wasn't for you."

A small sob escaped from Clara's lips. "I thought it would be different. That we'd be together. Forever and always. But it's all my fault. You won't come back, no regeneration, and it's all my bloody fault! We should've never had a relationship. It was wrong." Their noses were still touching when Clara brushed her lips against his. "But my heart keeps saying that we were right."

"I don't regret anything, Clara." He sighed when she pulled her head back and fell back on her knees, reaching back out to run her thumb along his cheekbone. "Not us, not our lives, not the events that resulted in this situation -"

"I wouldn't change one second of our life together . . ." Clara cried.

"Clara!" A voice shouted from the corridor. Clara's head turned backwards as she glanced at the open door before glancing back to the Doctor. She had to go before it was too late.

"I can't leave you."

A small, reassuring smile crept upon his lips. "You never will. No matter what happens to me, I'll always be with you. Forever."

She stood up slowly, gliding her hand from his cheek to his lips and he kissed it softly. With that, she walked out the door, glancing back at him one last time before leaving him alone, left with only the stars he could see through the small window . . .

And it seemed perfectly fitting, sitting in front of this window. For the very first thing his newborn eyes ever saw were the stars . . .

And they would also be the last thing he ever saw . . .