The Iron Man persona had always been something that was kept hidden from her. It was hardly like Clara was any stranger to secrets, after traveling with the Doctor for so long she was starting to forget about even bothering to ask. She’d gotten used to not knowing why. There were faint memories of the Doctor’s words echoing in her ears.

        {{Secrets protect us. Secrets keep us s a f e}}

But Clara was so far from safe. It had seemed that despite Tony’s attempts to keep her from harms way had rather expertly failed as she found herself in the confines of whatever bleedin’ man had come out as having a vendetta against Tony.

It had been a relatively normal Wednesday, of course that was if you could call going for an adventure in space in a blue phone box only to end up back on Earth only a short few minutes after she’d supposedly left. Nobody’d notice she’d even gone (unless the Doctor slipped up and landed up a few years later instead of a few minutes. Though that was a thought that she dreaded to think) Then she’d muster up whatever energy she had left to pop around to visit her Engineer-Boy.

        —Although lately she’s considering simply staying there. It was starting to look like she’d spent more time there then anywhere else—

But it went wrong and somewhere between seeing one clever boy to the other it went blank for her. She could remember walking and then nothing. It was like a sort of darkness that had simply swallowed her memories until she woke up god knows how long later with a pain in her head.

She was somewhere dark - far too dark - she could see barely an inch in front of her. The nightmares of getting lost that she had when she was little rushing into her mind as she shot up onto her feet like a current ran through her.

"Where am I?" Her voice is nothing more than a quiet mumble as her hands felt around her trying to get at least a small clue of what had happened to her. It was small as well, apparently. Barely the width of her arms. “Right, when is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on? C’mon, quick as you like."

But there had only been a silence that made her skin crawl.

                  Brilliant, she’d been bleedin’ kidnapped. 

There’d been days of nothing more than that silence (although it could easily have been an hour or two. It seemed like everything was dragging along impossibly slowly) She’d tried calling out, she’d curled in on herself. She’d spent a good while with her head in her hands, letting out muffled sobs and pleas. 

After what had been like a rather agonizing eternity for her, a door opened by her side and the light pouring in had very nearly blinded her.

            “He’s coming, take her up to the roof."

"Who’s coming?" Clara had managed to croak out roughly, but once again she’d been met with no answer as a man grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto her feet and dragged her up a flight of stairs into the still dark night although if she looked carefully enough towards the east she could see small lines of light starting to appear. 

                 "—Who’s coming?" She repeated, her voice taking on the similar authority that it would when she was berating Artie and Angie. The man merely held onto her shoulders and turned her towards something that she could easily have mistaken for Cyberman. Although by her knowledge they couldn’t fly. It wasn’t until it had landed a few short metres from her could she the difference.

               Where the Cyberman were cold and hard. Whatever this was had seemed far kinder. 

"But who is he?" Her eyes had focused on the mask carefully until it had finally moved away to reveal Tony’s face. A thousand bubbled to Clara’s lips but she’d barely a chance to smile weakly at his appearance before her body was moved over the side of the building. The only thing keeping her up was the man with the vicious smirk who’d kept a grasp on her arm.

"No!" Clara shrieked, her eyes falling downwards on instinct as her stomach gave a lurch. The ground may have only been a few short stories below suddenly loomed away from her so dangerously. “Get off of me."

"Don’t look at the ground, sweetheart. Look at him. Look at Iron Man. At Tony Stark. He’s a hero, I’m sure he’ll be able to save you." The nickname that Tony had so frequently called her had seemed so sinister coming from the man’s tongue. Any happy memories that had come with it now long gone. Clara drew her gaze away to look at Tony with wide, terrified eyes.

            “Let her go." He stepped forward, a metallic gloved hand outreached as though ready to grab her but the man holding her arm only let out a laugh and shrugged his shoulders.

"If you say so."

Four short words and then she was falling. The fall down to the grass sheathed ground that had seemed so close before now felt like an eternity. She could faintly here a cry and a whir like a small plane from above her until she the ground with a rather definite thud.

There were quiet slivers of memories of the times she’d died before. The echoes of her. None of that had really been her, of course. This was her - the real Clara Oswald - and she was dying. There were hands on her again, warm and caring though she can barely feel them.

                Her entire body is n u m b.

She blinked and Tony’s face come into view once more though it was almost immediately blurred from view. She’s slipping and she’s certain that he knows it. There was an apology on her lips, begging to be let out but she couldn’t find the right breath to say it. Sorry for dying? Sorry for not being strong enough to hang on and fight? 

The suit — the thing that man had called Iron Man — was lying beside him and there was still those questions that were left to be asked but they were to be left unspoken, like far too much she had to say to him.

She wished she could hold his hand, or kiss him on the cheek, or tell him she was going to be okay and that he didn’t need to fret over her but the only she could manage was short little gasps for breath.

Clara’d known that after so long she’d be left with choosing between the two of them. Of course she’d always liked to have imagined that maybe, just maybe, that day would always be something she could only fret over. That it would never come.

But she was a time traveler, and one day she’d slip up. Or rather the Doctor would slip up in flying that bloody box of his and she’d ended up disappearing for a month or a year or a century. And the thought of that happening made her stomach twist in worry.

But she was starting to live two different lives and there was only going to be so long that she could continue with both quite happily.

              She could soundly keep being the nanny. It was something she’d known quite particularly how to do. She could look after her dad once he started to get a bit older. She could be just normal, ordinary Clara. But being ordinary Clara meant that she could stay with Tony. Look after him because he was bleedin’ hopeless. Be his Mysterious Girl.

              Or she could keep travelling in the TARDIS. Be with that mad, brilliant and impossible man who’d shown her the stars. Given her adventure when she’d needed it. She was his Impossible Girl. They’d saved the world - the both of them. So many times. And she’d dreaded to think what would happen had she left him again. If he’d travel alone or go back to his cloud.

It seemed a little unfair to have made her choose right on spot. Her teeth were steadily about to gnaw right through her bottom lip as she mulled the question over. She had a life here on Earth. People she cared for and looked after. But she had love for every new ‘awesome’ place the Doctor showed her.

[i am just going to leave this here] CUUUUUUUUUUTIE.