I'd love to see a drabble playing on the recent fan art showing Twelve carrying Clara because she's tuckered out. (It doesn't have to be because of her shoes.)
“We need to run,” the Doctor insists for what feels like the hundredth time that hour, wringing his hands together as he looks down at where his tiny companion is crumpled on the ground, and then turns his gaze to the flames creeping towards them from the horizon. The planet was ablaze, and they needed to flee before it was too late. “Clara, we need to get back to the TARDIS, or we’re going to-”
“I can’t,” she whimpers, not looking up at him as she spoke, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ve told you, I can’t.”
“Well, why not?!” he snaps, regretting his furious tone even before the words have fully left his mouth, and Clara raises her gaze to blink at him in shock, tears running down her face and leaving trails in the dust coating her skin. For a moment, she only stares at him, her expression wounded and hurt, and then her jaw sets and she gets to her feet with difficulty, leaning on the wall as she does so.
“This is why,” she says coldly, taking a step towards him and crying out as her foot makes contact with the ground. She stumbles into his arms and he realises something is terribly wrong, looking down at her leg and shifting her carefully as he examines her. “Don’t,” she argues feebly, but he takes no notice of her protests. “Don’t bother.”
“Clara, you’re hurt,” he says pragmatically, noticing a jagged hole in her tights and then a large, angry gash running the length of her calf. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she says in a small voice. “I think when we left the control room, but I don’t know.”
“How did you get this far?” he asks in wonder, proud of how brave she has already been. “It must be agony.”
“I don’t know,” she says again, leaning her forehead against his shoulder and exhaling shakily. “Just go, OK? Just go, and get the TARDIS, and come back for me.”
“There’s no time.”
“So go,” she swallows and raises her head, meeting his eyes bravely. “Go, I’ll only slow you down.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs, and before she can argue he’s lifted her onto his back, holding her with the utmost care and resolving to do the running for the both of them. “Hold on, OK?”
She hums an assertion, and he smiles.
“To the TARDIS.”