[ He's managed to dodge multiple hordes of the undead on his path here, so he's more than aware that if they just keep quiet and relatively still, they can make it through. Difficult for a man of many words, when he wants to fuss and ask her a million questions about how she feels, though...she wouldn't be able to answer, which is just as well.
The mold again, of course. It's come back, and in horrific ways. Of course it would. As he cradles her like she weighs nothing at all in his arms, he presses a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering with his eyes closed.
Think, think, think, Doctor.
Right now he has to hope he intercepted in time that the effects of the mold will disappear, given enough time. But he can't be sure, and it's that terrible in between that haunts him now. Will she die in his arms again, while he holds her, unable to do anything at all? ]
Course it is, Clara. Who else? Where else? It will always be me.
no subject
The mold again, of course. It's come back, and in horrific ways. Of course it would. As he cradles her like she weighs nothing at all in his arms, he presses a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering with his eyes closed.
Think, think, think, Doctor.
Right now he has to hope he intercepted in time that the effects of the mold will disappear, given enough time. But he can't be sure, and it's that terrible in between that haunts him now. Will she die in his arms again, while he holds her, unable to do anything at all? ]
Course it is, Clara. Who else? Where else? It will always be me.