Author's Note: So this is a rewrite of the prompt from Fix You. If you are here from that work, thank you for your continued support!

This fic will crossover with multiple universes, but the focus is on 11 and Clara.

Ten people had already gone missing from London that week, and it was only Thursday. Rumors were quick to fly at Clara's school, which was only natural. One of the missing was a kid in her class, and the other kids were terrified despite Clara's best attempts to reassure them. It didn't help that the rest of the staff were also terrified. Clara herself was terrified, but she had to hold it together for the sake of the kids.

The cold night air sent shivers down Clara's spine as she made the walk to George Maitland's house. Artie had called saying there was an emergency and his family needed help instantly. Never being one to shy away from danger, Clara wrapped a thick jacket around herself and power-walked down the streets of London. Recent events had put her on edge, and she held a bottle of mace firmly in her clenched fist.

In the dark, Clara didn't see the ice frozen over the road until she stepped on it and her foot slid out from under her. She fell backwards, tailbone crunching against the pavement in a way that made Clara cry out. Her fist unclenched, and the bottle of mace fell from her grip and rolled away from her.

The next thing Clara felt was a pair of strong arms hooked underneath her armpits, pulling her to her feet. Her survival instincts kicked in, and she desperately tried to pull away from the stranger only to have her feet scrape uselessly at the ice beneath. The stranger pulled her closer, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. She felt a needle sink into her neck before her world became blurry and she was dragged off into blackness.

The smell of burning hair brought Clara out of her drug induced slumber. She tried to blink the fog away, but her mind was still too hazy. With a groan she pulled herself up into a sitting position, which was all she could do since her head scraped against the ceiling. The floor jostled. Clara tried to make sense of her surroundings. There was a barred window, but she couldn't see much out of it except for shades of red and purple. She was moving, or rather being moved like an animal in a tiny crate.

Her body suddenly felt weak, and Clara fell down to the floor. The hit to her head proved to be too much as unconsciousness took her once again.

When she woke up next, the crate was still. Her mind was still hazy, but she managed to crawl back to the window. She could hear voices outside, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. The crate felt too cold, and Clara reached for her jacket only to realize she was no longer wearing it.

The sky was pitch black with gentle snowflakes falling to the ground. For a moment, Clara forgot her predicament. The Doctor had taken her to many beautiful worlds, and this was no different. She reached a hand out between the bars to catch one of the falling flakes on her fingertip.

Abrupt shouting startled her out of her trance. She quickly pulled her hand back and waited, wide-eyed and heart pounding. The crate shuddered before the back slid open and a rush of freezing air hit her. Already her grip on consciousness was fading, but she could make out the form of two men; human men.

She shrunk back as one crawled in after her, not noticing the needle until it pierced her neck.

Clara had no idea how long she had been drifting in and out of consciousness for. She could vaguely remember looking out the crate window, but the various scenery all blurred together in her mind. Once her mind had finally cleared, she bolted upright, feet touching the cold, stone floor. She was no longer in the crate but in some type of cell with no idea how long it had been since she was kidnapped.

The cell wasn't large, but at least she could stand again. A scratchy blanket lay in the back corner which she had been laying on until she awoke. There was also a bowl of food (at least she assumed it was food) sitting by the door. Her stomach growled, and she realized just how hungry she was. Without waiting another second, she dropped down next to the bowl and began to scoop the cold, yellow mush into her mouth with her fingers. It tasted horrible, but Clara was famished.

After devouring the contents of the bowl, Clara approached the metal door. There didn't seem to be any way of opening it from inside. She pushed hard against it, but just as she expected, it didn't budge.

She walked back to the blanket and sat. There was nothing left to do but wait for her captors to arrive. Once they had shown themselves she could start plotting her escape.

The one thing that kept persistently bugging her was that she had no idea why they wanted her or were keeping her alive. On one hand, she could be just another victim of the mass of kidnapping in London. On the other hand, Clara could be about to become bait in a trap against the Doctor.

When she couldn't sit any longer, she stood and began to pace across the small cell. How much time had passed since she had been taken in London? Was the Doctor looking for her? Was anyone?

She must have taken a thousand steps before she heard noise coming from behind the door. It sounded as if a key was turning a lock, and the movement of the door confirmed that. Clara squared her shoulders and held her breath as a large man stepped inside. He was dressed all in black and scowled at Clara. "3,174," he addressed her in a gruff voice. The man reached out for her wrist, which was when Clara noticed the open cuff he was holding. She tried to pull back, but he grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and snapped the cuff around her wrist. A jolt of electricity spasmed across her muscles. Gracelessly, she fell to the ground. "It's time to get to work."

His stern look wasn't something she wanted to fight against right then, so Clara pushed herself back to her feet and followed him outside her cell. The hallway was dimly lit, but as far as Clara could see there were doors identical to hers except for the number engraved on them. Hers was 3,174. She tried not to think about how many captives that meant they had as she followed the man's quick pace.

At the end of the hallway was a large elevator shaft. After stepping on, the man closed the gate behind them. The elevator groaned as it descended through the darkness for what felt like forever until they reached what seemed to be the bottom floor. Her captor opened the gate again, and she stepped out after him into the great expanse. Clara gasped when she saw the crowd of people moving about. "You're using us for mining," she realized.

"Correct," her captor replied. "The rules here are simple. If you want to eat, you work. Now grab that cart and collect the coal."

Clara rushed to do as she was told. She had no doubt that she would escape, but first she needed to plan, and to do that she needed to eat. The rusty cart was heavy, but once she got it moving down the track it wasn't hard to push. Her path took her down the left side. Miners with blank faces turned to her as she passed, dumping loads of coal in. The cart became heavier to push, and Clara's arms and shoulders soon began to ache. She grunted as she pulled on the cart, stopping it so she could rest.

"Miss Oswald?"

She sucked in a hard breath as her face snapped around. "Daphne!" Clara exclaimed. The missing girl from her class stood just a foot away. Her dark eyes glistened with fear as she quickly threw her arms around Clara's waist. Clara wrapped one arm around the trembling girl and ran her other hand through Daphne's thick 'fro. "I'm gonna get us out of here," she whispered. "I promise."

"Get back to work!" a harsh voice growled. Clara glanced up to it's source and found the speaker. Daphne quickly darted away, leaving Clara alone again. She sighed and began to push the cart down the track again.