Clara lasted five days before she called him. She was still angry, or so she kept saying. She’d yelled a lot about the whole mess on the moon while Danny listened patiently. He’d been most upset to hear that Courtney had been with them; she had brushed that off with a handwave as being perfectly normal. Courtney had loved it, which was she should have done. But the Doctor’s behavior had been completely unacceptable, completely horrible, and it was the last straw. Absolutely positively the last straw.
But she couldn’t have it end like that. She had to say goodbye. Of course.
So she called him. The TARDIS appeared in her bedroom before she’d quite got through stumbling through her prepared introductory statement, written out clearly in a notebook. That was suspicious; it implied he hadn’t gone far away as instructed, though who knew. The Doctor emerged cautiously, receiver to his ear, and she’d sighed and hung up her mobile. What was the point of having a little speech to read if he was going to be there, gazing at her mournfully with those big blue eyes?
“Shut up,” she said. “Shut up. Listen to me.”
He sat cross-legged on her bed, facing her, and listened to her. She delivered the speech anyway. A version of it. It was over. Danny didn’t want her traveling with the Doctor. (Lie number one: Danny had said nothing like that whatsoever.) It was time she moved on. She had her life to lead, and she couldn’t do this any more. (Lie number two: the idea of never leaving Earth again made her want to cry.) He had plenty of people he could travel with instead, she knew, so he wouldn’t miss her. (Lie number three: she could see quite clearly that he was curling up around a heartache that grew with every word out of her mouth.) It wasn’t safe, it had never been safe, and she was no longer okay with not being safe. (Lie number four: she had never been okay with being safe.) Danny would allow her one last hurrah with the Doctor, one last trip, so long as it was completely safe. (Lie number five: the idea of the trip had come to her that very moment.)
She sputtered to a halt, eventually, and looked at him straight on. He wasn’t angry. His face was oddly blank. He was staring at his hands, cupped in his lap.
“There you have it. What do you have to say to that?”
“That’s it? Okay?”
“You’ve told me quite clearly what you want. There’s nothing else for me to say.”
That was not disappointment she felt. It couldn’t be. That had to be hurt that he wasn’t fighting for her at all. He wasn’t trying. He sat there, just like Danny, and told her she could have what she wanted.
The Doctor was saying, “I’ll find some place for us to go. Something spectacular for you. And safe. And then–”
“It’ll be as you wish.”
“Right. As I wish.” No more painful decisions, no more watching him leap into chasms without her, no more being abandoned at the last second with the fate of the human race in her hands. No more moon spiders, Daleks, Cybermen, Silurians, Sontarans, super-intelligent shades of the color blue. A quiet safe life for her, just as she wished.
“When are we leaving?”
The Doctor’s head came up and he stared at her for a moment. He blinked. “Any time.”