"No matter how many times you click your heels, spin in circles, or wish on stars, time will never stand still. Taking a breather isn't a option. No time outs and no pauses either. We're all stuck with that alarming ultimatum: to keep moving forward or else."

Chapter One: Familiar

Featuring; 11th Doctor, Clara Oswald, The Moraxi and J.

The Tardis shuddered to an abrupt halt, jolting the Doctor and Clara into the cold, metal console without warning. The Doctor furrowed his brow, as his long fingers skimmed the various buttons, unsure of what had just happened. Clara blew out a tense breath between her parted lips, sidling up to the Doctor, glancing at him anxiously.

The Doctor scratched the back of his head, sighing with frustration, as he pulled the monitor into his line of vision. Clara craned her head to look at the screen, but she could only make out scattered symbols that didn't mean anything to her.

"I thought the Tardis translated every language?" Clara raised her eyebrow in confusion, as she continued to stare at the emblems on the monitor. Silence. No answer. Clara's eyes narrowed in annoyance, as her gaze slid over to the Doctor's face, expecting an answer to her question. His face remained impassive, those old eyes burning with something she couldn't place.

"Doctor!" Clara snapped impatiently, clicking her fingers infront of his face, trying to receive a reaction. He blinked once, slowly drifting out of his self-induced world, shaking his head slightly, as if to wake himself up. The Doctor rolled his shoulders back, his fingers dancing lightly over the keys, typing in new coordinates with a stony expression painted across his ancient face.

"Why the sudden rush off the planet, Doctor? Don't you want to see what's out there?" She questioned, her eyes flitting towards the door desperately; curiosity burning her insides with a blazy determination.

"No." The Doctor's answer was curt, simple and cold.

Clara crossed her arms defensively, gritting her teeth slightly at the tone he used with her. The Doctor glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, brushing off her fortified attitude with a simple roll of his eyes.

"Maybe I want to see what is out there? Who are you to stop me?" Clara lifted her chin up stubbornly, anger briefly flashing in her rich soil eyes. The Doctor's hands curled tightly around the edge of the console, knuckles turning white with effort, as he forced himself to remain calm.

"Neither you or I are setting foot on this planet. We are leaving right now, whether you approve or not." The Doctor's voice was smooth and icy, his tone biting like the artic cold. Clara opened her mouth to respond, but his expression halted her words.

"This is not open to discussion, Clara. I promised to keep you safe and this planet is dangerous, going out there is risking your life and I'm not willing to take that possibility. This is for your safety." The Doctor's voice suddenly softened, his tone a stark contrast to how he was talking before. He kept his eyes on Clara's, smoldering with his promise. She quickly diverted her gaze, unable to hold the force of his cerulean eyes.

Looking into the eyes of the Doctor is like looking into the sun too long- it burns, blinding you momentarily and consuming your vision. Even went you look away, you can still feel the staggering force of his scrutiny. The Doctor's words of safety and promise made Clara's heart beat that little bit faster, her breaths come out a little harder.

The Doctor looked away from her, like he'd said nothing, as he continued to re-enter a new set of coordinates. Clara looked up from the spot on the floor, watching the Doctor's lean fingers press the keys of his typewriter.

"What's so dangerous about the place? Do human devouring aliens populate the planet?" Clara joked lightly, trying to shift the heavy atmosphere that had settled on the Tardis.

"Because, Clara. Does it matter why?" The Doctor sighed, hitting the space bar and resumed plotting a new destination for the pair. Clara lamented with frustration, leaning with her back to the console, away from the Doctor's gaze.

"Someone sent me a psychic message, interacted telepathically with my mind." The Doctor explained quietly, glancing up at the monitor, his eyes quickly scanning the oxygen levels that the Tardis had registered.

"So?" Clara shurgged with confusion, didn't the Tardis do that to him all the time? The ship hummed gently, responding to her thoughts.

"So, Clara? Do you have any idea how impossible it is to get inside my mind? There are psychic loops, quantum locked layers that are impossible to break, codes that are unable to be deciphered, not to mention the fact of deadlocked doors that seal off every crevice. In my 1000 years of living, I have never met anyone who could ever get into my mind, not even the most advanced Time Lords. Whoever got into my mind sent the message right to the middle of my psyche and that should be unachievable." The words tumbled out of the Doctor's mouth in such a quick pace, that Clara had to strain her ears to catch everything.

Clara swallowed roughly, even though the Doctor hid it well, she could sense his panic. If his own kind couldn't get into mind, then what could?

"What did they say?" Clara whispered, eyes wide with distress. The Doctor visibly stiffened, his posture becoming tense, like she'd said something offensive. He shook his head, muttering quietly under his breath.

"It doesn't matter what they said. If there are able to get into my mind, they're classed at a psychic level of 7 and that is dangerous." The Doctor brushed off her question.

"Psychic level 7? What's that? Which level are you?" Clara shot questions at him, quickly and urgently; desperate for understanding. The Doctor held up his finger to his lips, signalling silence; Clara's lips clamped shut, ending her flurry of curiosity.

The Doctor typed in a few more numbers and letters, evening out the balance of symbols and smiled proudly to himself. Upon the monitor, the results of the planet scan showed nothing strange, no anomalous data that suggested anything suspicious.

Planet; Inantes, 2nd of the Smiera system.

Date; 23rd July 5010

Air levels; -85% oxygen,

-10% nitrogen,

-5% carbon.

Rad levels; Minimal.

Toxin and poison levels; Low.

Frustrated, the Doctor pushed the screen away from him, rubbing his face with his hand. This shouldn't be bothering him, the planet shouldn't be getting to him. But it was. Something wasn't right, he could sense it. But intuition wasn't enough to risk Clara's life, curiosity couldn't push him to endanger his companion's existence.

So, the Doctor decided to forget it. Overlook the invasion of his mind, fail to recall the time where they landed on a planet called Inantes.

The Doctor rubbed his hands together, a smile spreading across his face.

"So, Clara! Where else do you fancy? Castrovalva is brilliant! Lush green fields, bright purple clouds! How does that sound?" The Doctor babbled excitedly, swooping around the console with an air of eagerness.

No reply. Complete silence. The Tardis hummed uneasily, as the Doctor's smile dropped.

The Doctor frowned, looking up to the spot where Clara had been standing. She'd been there just a minute ago. The Doctor's eyes flashed with sadness, figuring she would of gone to her room, angry at him for denying her the planet she wanted to see. The Tardis whined in negativity.

The Doctor's hearts skipped their beats. She wasn't in the control room, she wasn't in her room. Heck, she wasn't even in the Tardis!

The Doctor's eyes flew to the partially open door and realization suddenly sunk in.