A/N greetings! Okay summary of what this is going to be: basically a collection of Doctor/Clara one shots based on songs. They will all be longish- probably at least a couple of thousand words each. They will all be different too, some fluff, some angst, some adventure, some AU, etc. But they are all whouffle.

I've wanted to get this out for months now, these have all just been sitting there waiting to be published! I just had to finish my other fic first...I hope you all enjoy and please review to tell me what you think, constructive criticism, suggestions for oneshots, suggestions for songs etc. thanks!

This one is a more adventure-y one. The song is awesome you should all go listen to it on YouTube too. :)

ALSO, this operates under the headcanon that Clara's mum was killed by the autons, as the day she died is the same day as that episode.


King and Lionheart- Of Monsters and Men

Taking over this town they should worry,
But these problems aside I think I taught you well.
That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.
That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.

And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,
Looking down on these bright blue city lights.
And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.
We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.

Howling ghosts – they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly
Past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
Though far away, though far away, though far away
We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same.

Howling ghosts – they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king an I'm a lionheart.

And in the sea that's painted black,
Creatures lurk below the deck
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

And as the world comes to an end
I'll be here to hold your hand
'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart.


The Doctor had told her that the forests whispered.

He'd been excited to visit them, said that he'd been here once before, many years ago. Well, a different side of the planet, but all the same, he'd said.

He'd said they could see inside her mind. That they were thousands of years old, living, sentient, conscious beings that inched up towards the sky, yearning for its sunlight. That they were nothing like normal trees, they were psychic, could tap into the brainwaves of almost any living thing. That they would murmur secrets in your ear, offer advice and consolation, the whispering trees.

But he had not told her they were frightening. Malevolent. Evil, even, if there was such a thing.

And of course she was also lost.

And the trees were whispering.

Lost, lost, lost, came their voices, wind through the branches. Lost, lost.

They looked like trees, if a little unique: tall and thin with leaves as long and thin as the hairs on her head, though silvery-white as she hoped her hair wouldn't be any time soon.

But they were not trees.

They were monsters.


Lost, lost, the child is lost!

She continued her slow trek among them, boots sinking into the soft dirt and slipping on the strange black moss. The Doctor was nowhere to be seen, not a fleeting shadow behind the trees, not a joyful call of her name, not a strong presence by her side.

She had simply turned around, and he had gone. Was it the trees messing with her mind, seeing inside her head?

She was alone. She was lost.

The whispers came again, like the rustle of leaves in a winter wind, Lost, child, lost.

"What do you want?"

She'd always been scared of being lost. Until her mother managed to convince her that she could meet be truly lost, that she would always find her. Young, innocent Clara had believed her.

But her mother was lost herself. She couldn't come and find her.

There was a warbling, breezy noise from the trees, like laughing. But light, cold, twisted.

The child's mother, the child's mother, she's lost! She's lost!

Clara swallowed, kept her feet steady. Step, step, step.

She is dead, the mother! Rotting in the ground, a mangy corpse of flesh and yellowed bone!

Step, step, step.

The mother was killed, the mother was murdered! By a phenomenon of time, one in a million, and she was that one.

She kept her eyes ahead, through the trees, the silver trees. Where was the Doctor? Where was he?

The monsters that no one will see! No one will believe it! Plastic humans come to life? No! It was a terrorist, they say. An underground weapon. They have dismissed it, now. They saw it with their own eyes, yet they do not believe!

Her foot slipped down a mossy rock, she grabbed hold of the nearest trunk, letting go of it as soon as she was back on her feet.

The child dares to touch the all-seeing forest? She dares, she dares!

She quickened her step, she needed to get out of here, now, now. These were the things she tried not to think of, the things these otherworldly creatures were unearthing. Stop.

But the child's mother! She was killed by a monster no one will admit existed! How did she die then, they ask? Terrorist, psychopath, serial killer! Or... they paused, there was a second of utter silence, peace, sanctuary. Suicide!

She started running then, no, she wouldn't think about it, just run and run and get out of this godforsaken place!

And it is the child who suffers most for the mother's death. Why is it her? Yes, yes, she should have been there! She should have gone with the mother! She should have saved her, died in her place!

Thud, thud, of her footsteps. Thud, thud, of her heart.

Run, run, run.

It is the child's fault!

There were tears, now, hot tears on her cheeks that she didn't remember shedding. Run, run, run.

That's it, child! Run from yourself! Run from the ghost of the mother you killed! Run from the father who resents you for it! Run from the family you took pity on! Run from the friends you let down! Run from the places you could never go! Run from the Doctor man and run from the knowledge that vibrates in his bones!

She ran. Faster, harder, blinder. Her heart pounded, her body the skin of a resounding drum.

The child has fallen in love, she has! She tries not to, she fights! But she cares too much, at the wrong time in the wrong place with the wrong person! Too loyal, too clever, not brave enough!

The whispers were like crows, pecking at her brain, clawing at her ears, screeching and screaming.

Run, child, run!

She ran.



It was one minute they were strolling happily through the whispering forest, he was wishing a good day to the trees and Clara was smiling beside him. And then the next minute she was gone, he was alone.

He shouldn't have taken them to a different forest. He should have listened to sense. They should never have come here.

Where was Clara?

And then the trees started to whisper.

Hello, Doctor man.

"Hello?" he called. "I hope you don't mind us admiring you, brilliant creatures, you are!"

There was a hissing, whistling noise, like a sharp wind through leaves.

"Could you tell me where Clara's gone off to? She's my friend, short, brown hair, nice mind?"

The child is lost, Doctor man.

"Yes, yes, but where is she?"

The Doctor man is lost without the child. The Doctor man needs the child, he does? He'll go mad without her, he will.

"Er, alright, could you just tell me where she is?"

The Doctor man has an extensive mind. He knows more than we do, much more. He was seen things we can never see. The Doctor man has seen the Time War, has he not?

"...yes. I'm a Time Lord. What have you done with Clara?"

He cares too much about the child. He will lose the child, the child will die soon. And the Doctor man will die with her.

He took out his sonic screwdriver, did a quick scan of the closest tree. The whispering trees he'd visited, centuries ago had been pleasurable, welcoming. These...these were different.

The Doctor man has murdered his family. His family of thousands. He has obliterated them all. And then there are more, the silver men, the warmakers, the racnoss, the vampires of the sea. How many more? How many others are to come?

"What do you want?" he asked, steeling himself.

We want the Doctor man to run, is what we want. We want to the Doctor man to run, run, run!

"Run? Run where?"

The Doctor man questions everything. He is too curious, too fascinated by even the most evil of things. He lets the monsters kill the innocent, before realising his mistake and killing the monster when it is too late!

He started walking, weaving between the trees, willing the whispers to cease. He was not good at remembering, he was not good at looking back. But he was good at running. Oh yes, he was very good at running.

Run, monster man! Run!

He quickened just a little, reluctant to do as the forest was telling him to but wanting so much to get away, to run away. He didn't want to hear this, he didn't want to remember, he wanted to find Clara and run.

Run from the millions of lives you have destroyed! Run from the hundreds you have changed into warriors! Run from your children, your children of time! Run from the devils you've tried to kill, run from the gods you wouldn't harm! Run from yourself who is both and neither! Run from your past and regrets and worries! Run from your losses that you can never find!

Thud, thud, thud, thud. His heart, in his head. Thud, thud, thud, thud. His mind, made of lead.

Run from the child you cradle to your heart! Run from the one you should not care about! Run from the child who cares too much about you! Run from what's coming, what has always been!

Thud, thud, thud, thud. His feet on the stones. Thud, thud, thud, thud. It burns in his bones.

Run from the monsters you killed! Run from the monsters you saved! Run from the memory of monsters you let ravage themselves! Run from the monsters of time and memory! Run from the monsters, run, run!

"Stop," he whispered. "What do you want? Stop this."

Begging! The Doctor man begs! Keep running, Doctor man! The monsters are coming! Run, run, monster man, run!

He ran.

The whispers came, they didn't stop. They arced and shot and tore at his head, words without meaning but with all the meaning of the world, voices without sound but with all the sound he could bear.

He kept running, darting, running away, away, don't look back, don't look back at the memories, don't look back at the trail behind.

A shadow flitting behind the trees. There. There. Again.


He ran faster, more desperate, he had to go to her, he had to find her, she was lost, she was lost, she was lost, he was found.

And their paths crossed, she jumped back in shock before falling into his outstretched arms.

She was crying.

Clara rarely cried.

He took her hand then, because they couldn't stop running for long.

Run, run, monster man, run, run, child! Run, human and chronarch scum! Run away from the all-seeing forest, unworthy ones! Run, run, RUN!

He stopped.

Clara looked around, eyes wild. "We have to run! We have to get out!"

"No," he said slowly. "No, we don't."


"I won't run. We won't run."

Monster man, run!

Clara was tugging at his hand.

"No. No. We walk. We leave because we want to, not because we are forced to. We won't run."

It took everything to take that first step, slowly, carefully, without breaking out into a sprint. But he couldn't give them what they wanted.

Clara pulled ahead of him, she wanted to run, they were still whispering to her. He squeezed her hand, tugged her to his side.

"We won't run," he said to her again.

Her eyes were wide when she looked at him, biting her lip.

Monster man! Monster man! You are a monster, monster man! Run from the monsters, monster man!

"It's fine. They can only talk. That's all they can do."

"Words can do worse than anything physical," she replied shakily.

"True. But we won't run. They're just racist."

"Racist?" she probably would have laughed if in any other situation. He wanted to hear that laugh.

Run from your past, monster man!

"A racist whispering forest. Yes. Big meanies."

She laughed then, short, tense, humourless. But a laugh all the same.

The forest was still whispering to her, he could tell. He wondered what it was saying. But she set her face, glared straight ahead, stepped forward steadily with him.

Braveheart Clara.

They were almost at the edge now, he could see the trees thinning into a clear space, and the TARDIS standing out in the sun.

Child, monster man! Run!

They didn't run.


They walked, hand in hand, into the light.

A/N *discreetly slips Welcome to Night Vale references into dw fanfiction*

okay so everyone I would love it if you reviewed, with suggestions, concrit, whatever. :)