To be honest, the set of coordinates confused him.
He frowned at the unmarked location, his mind fuzzy on why it was in the TARDIS in the first place. The Doctor never saved locations, as he could recall them with impeccable memory. Although he may forget here and there, the coordinates usually come back to him, so why was this specific location just...there? It could be a trick or a trap placed by someone, but the TARDIS hardly ever lead him astray. The ship didn't even bother hiding it from him either, so perhaps it was a place of interest? Regardless, he selected the coordinates and hoped for the best. The time didn't seem to matter, so he chose to go in the 21st century, a day after his last appearance in those coordinates.
Surprisingly, before he could even land, the TARDIS visual interface appeared in Madame Vastra's form. The visual interface chose her mystic look, with the veil covering her face, lies hidden behind the black fabric.
"I may not have hidden it from you, but I am warning you now." The voice of the Silurian said, although it held no emotion that normally was present.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" The Doctor asked sharply, then crossed his arms and leaned against the console. "There's no point in leaving the coordinates if you don't want me to go there."
The visual interface looked at him intently and the Doctor felt partially uncomfortable. Despite the fact that he did know that the TARDIS always watched him, being under the scrutinizing gaze of his dear ship, especially as she was using Vastra's likeness, made him squirm slightly.
"It...it was sentiment. For you and for myself." The interface explained, oddly faltering in her words, "You also did forget where her coordinates were at times."
"Sentiment?" His mind then processed the second bit, "Her coordinates?"
"You will most likely leave with more questions than answers." The interface disappeared as the TARDIS landed.
Once he landed, he popped his head out to find himself in an apartment, judging by the wood paneled walls and red shag carpet. The TARDIS practically took up the room it inhabited, but didn't necessarily hit the ceiling. Examining his surroundings further, he realized he was in the living room. It felt familiar, for sure. Warm, red, and most definitely a place he should be able to remember. He was invading someone's home, afterall, whoever it may be. He took a tentative step forward, allowing for the artificial air of her air conditioning and the air of the TARDIS to mingle. His eyes scanning the room for any sort of tricks or traps, but only smelled the light feeling of home. A home that was welcome to him.
All in all, it looked like every British house he'd ever been to. He noted the vintage furnishings, most likely from some furniture store like IKEA, with the ornate lamps and the deep sienna walls and teal velvet curtains set a very cozy palette. A palette that felt as though the place was loved, used often, and judging by the amount of rooms that he could see once peeking out of the living room, it only housed one individual. He went out to the landing and touched the walls, hitting a coat hooks with two coats, one black and the other violet. Taking the black coat off, his first instinct went straight to smelling it. Immediately he could smell his own aftershave. So he had been here before, but why was remembering such a daunting task? Placing the coat back, he picked up the purple one. Smaller than him and most likely fitted a much petite individual. It smelled of peaches and light perfume, a scent that wrapped him in comfort that tugged at his mind but no memory popped up. He replaced the coat and made his way to the first room in the hallway, which just happened to be the bedroom. Although the apartment was quiet, he found company the moment he opened the door.
A woman sat on a vanity seat, with three mirrors in front of her, showing each side of her coloured in face that rang a bell in his mind, a ring that went away in an instant, as though his mind refused to remember. The vanity displayed a whirlwind of products and accessories that were both earthly and alien from many different time periods, indicating intergalactic and time travel. She wore a gray long sleeve with lace trimming at the bottom and her chocolate hair covered her eyes from him, but he could see from the mirror that she was attempting not to cry. Her shoulders didn't rise to indicate she was breathing, which set the first alarm in the Doctor's mind.
"You aren't supposed to be here. Why are you here?" Her voice broke the eerie silence, her Lancashire lilt bringing a pang of sorrow in his hearts, a sorrow he didn't quite understand. He pushed passed it and questioned the young woman instead.
"Why are you here?" He repeated the question back to her, taking a step forward. She turned to him, her brown eyes darting from head to toe, as though he was a long lost friend, perhaps even lover, dare he say that. She searched for some sort of flicker of recognition across his face, but found none, as her lips turned to a frown, with her eyes inflating. "Stop it with the eyes, they're getting bigger." He commented further, which only allowed them to inflate even larger than he anticipated.
"I should ask you the same thing." The unnamed woman responded, frowning, "You...you shouldn't be able to remember this place, at all."
"I don't," He bitterly admitted. The woman knew him, but he didn't know her. Who could she be? A part of UNIT? Even then, she'd identify herself immediately if she was. He remembered old companions, regardless of regeneration. Who...? "But you know this place, tell me."
"I can't." She whispered, "We'd be back at square one. I don't know how far the memory block will work."
"Memory block? I have a memory block?" The young woman cursed under her breath, if she had one, and groaned.
"I told you too much. For the universe, Doctor, please don't bother figuring this mystery out. This is the one mystery you aren't allowed to solve." So she knew who he was. A set of footsteps came from the front door, stepping into the landing and to the bedroom.
"I see he found you regardless. I told you we shouldn't have come here Clara. Too soon, especially since he was bound to come back for answers." The Doctor whipped around to find Lady Me, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame.
"You... Lady Me." Me raised an eyebrow, as though she was surprised he even remembered her. She looked to Clara instead of addressing the Doctor.
"Clara, I seriously wish you'd understand the gravity of the situation here." She scolded lightly, as though Clara was a child.
"And I do, Me. Just let...just let me do what I need to do. This is the last stop anyhow." Clara muttered, standing from her position and walked over to the Doctor. Looking into her eyes, he could smell the peach from the coat earlier and his ears couldn't pick up a single breath from her.
"How are you alive? You...you're not breathing." The Doctor marveled as she lifted a hand to his cheek. Rather than jolting away like he normally would, he instead leaned into it, an uncharacteristic thing for him to do. This woman was important to him, somehow, but the memory block she spoke of worked wonders.
"One day, Doctor, one day you will find out." She smiled sadly, despite the fact her face should be much more jubilant. "Are you traveling with a companion?"
"No, no, I'm afraid I'm alone." He admitted to the brunette. He noted how her eyes, albeit young, still looked as though they had seen both wonders and worlds beyond Earth. She was a seasoned traveller of time and space, no doubt.
"Don't be alone. It doesn't really suit you." She cracked a smile, one of lighter proportions, "We were like this, ages ago. Long, long, long ago."
"What happened to...us?" He inquired.
"Can't say. Wouldn't want you ruining yourself and the universe yet again. I can give you answers, just very vague ones." She giggled, as a thought passed her mind, "What about the old cow, the snog box of yours?" His appalled look only served to make her laugh even further. Laughter of a woman that held many secrets, restraint laced deep in that calculated laugh.
"She's...she's fine. She said this place was for sentiment, for her and me." He explained to the woman.
"She still likes me? I'm amazed...I would have thought she deleted my coordinates in order to prevent this." It was merely small talk, the Doctor knew that. She was biding her time, allowing for her to see him. Piecing the small pieces he was given, he knew she was a companion of his, particularly of this regeneration. He had forgotten her due to a memory block, which supposedly destroyed the universe. Her name was Clara and she was...she was...
"She likes everybody." The Doctor claimed. Jack had a bit of a problem, but he was an immortal man after all.
"If only you knew." Clara rolled her eyes. "I had such a fit with her for every time she moved my bedroom. It was a bit better when you regenerated but...still equally as bad." The question rised in his throat and he was partially afraid to ask it, but Clara could see that as she caressed his face gently with her thumb. Clara noticed everything, it seemed.
"Were you my first face?" He asked quietly. Clara dropped her hand from his cheek, grimacing. She didn't need to say a word to confirm his terrible suspicions. He forgot his first face.
Me coughed in the background, bringing him to reality.
"Clara, we have to go. Can't have those nasty timelords having a fit with you being late to Trap Street." Clara nodded to Me and looked to the Doctor.
"Right. Goodbye Doctor, till next time." She pecked him on the cheek quickly, then dashed off before he could let out one last question. His hearts pounded with fury as the door shut behind him. His first face, that young woman, going to see the timelords. The timelords. It clicks with him, albeit late, but it resonates nonetheless.
"Wait!" He called for the two, but running out of the flat, he doesn't find them. They have disappeared, for Clara to meet her end with the Timelords, with Gallifrey...Gallifrey. He pulled on his silver hair, causing the ends to stick up as though he was a mad scientist. His mind fluttered with questions, but only one stuck with him.
"What the happened to us, Clara?" He whispered quietly to the bustling streets of England.