A/N: Here is my first submission for the contest, basically dealing with Twelve's grief over losing Clara, as he's alone and as Clara predicts, he's pretty bad at it. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 509 words

Ever since she left, he was empty.

It didn't hurt, not anymore. Less of knife to the gut and more of a lack of the white noise that was always there, the feeling of getting up too quickly and getting lightheaded. He was missing something vital- his shadow, his mirror, the one always there beside him, smiling with those big, big eyes. His companions had always been the best of him, and right now, he was at his worst.

Right now, he didn't feel like being a Doctor.

And now there was no Clara whose eyes would shine with excitement at the thought of being able to help at least these people, who could always find the beauty in everything and who would always run.

He keeps on travelling, but it feels almost as hollow as he is.

He doesn't remember much, but what he remembers is that she taught him he didn't have to feel bad that he always ran when he was scared, because fear brings people together and sometimes when you run you find bigger, brighter things.

It's weird how he remembers the little things about her. The way she liked visiting alien planets but loved going back in time on Earth. Her atrocious taste in music. She liked science kits and travel books but not hair products as a kid, which was so painfully Clara that he still smiled at the thought even though he can't quite remember how he knows that.

She's gone and now he was left to pick up the broken pieces of him, shattered everywhere they went together, except he can't quite remember where that is exactly. He remembers far, far too little for a girl who left such an impact on his life, and yet he remembers far too much, just enough to make his heart ache with the weight of unseen ghosts.

He remembers all of these hollow little memories, but they just aren't enough.

He remembers that he couldn't save her despite all of the times she'd saved him.

He remembers the Dalek asylum.

The snowmen.

The rings of Akhatan.

Her saving him from the Moment.

They'd had so many adventures, but he could only remember them in the way that one remembers a fairytale told to them as a child, which was ironic. She wasn't Amelia Pond, and this was so very far from a fairytale.

She was a teacher, and had taught him so much. By the time he remembers that, it's been months and amidst the sea of grief and self hatred, something warm and beautiful that he hasn't felt in a long time begins to surface.

He remembers what she would have wanted him to remember, even if his memory doesn't capture the way she said it, the love in her eyes.

What he remembers she taught him that he could keep going even though he thought he couldn't anymore. If he could murder himself over and over, he could keep going just one day more. Just one day.

And maybe that's just enough.

WhovianHarkness