Err. Hi. Here is the next chapter. Sorry it took so long. Real life is busy and hard.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and I'm not Making money from this.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Waking

The Doctor woke to find himself on a hospital bed with the covers tucked around him. He was slightly confused for a moment till his memories came rushing back. He sat up as quickly as he could and looked around the room. His bed was blocked from the rest of the room by a blue curtain, he was on the side closest to the window, the room was obviously meant for two patients. Looking towards the window he found the blinds pulled tightly closed and there was sunlight streaming in around the edges. Checking his ever present gold watch he found it to be just before 10am. The Doctor pulled the blankets off, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and gently stood to his feet. He quickly made his way over to the curtain dividing the room and pulled them apart.

He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Clara asleep on the other bed. She was still very pale and she was on a heart monitor but she was alive and breathing unassisted. He walked over to her silently and gently took her hand and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Oh Clara," The Doctor said shaking his head. "Everything we've been through and walked away from without a scratch and we get mugged and shot after a simple dinner. I'm just very glad you are going to be alright."

She didn't respond. He didn't expect her too, she was still under the effects of the anesthesia from the surgery. The door to the room creaked open and a very familiar figure entered the room.

"Mickey Mouse," The Doctor smiled before standing from the bed and meeting him in the middle. Mickey was dressed in a business casual suit, his jacket was off and over his arm, his sleeves were rolled up around his elbows, and his tie was undone and hanging around his shoulders.

"You got old Doc," Mickey said straight faced. His eyes were moving all over the Timelord, taking in all the changes. "And Scottish, and heavy, I had to carry your heavy self in here after you fell asleep in the waiting room and nothing could wake you. Reminded me of Christmas with the Sycorax when Rose and I had to carry you from the flat to the TARDIS."

Then Mickey smiled, threw his jacket over the nearby chair, and pulled the Timelord into a hug. The Doctor froze for a moment before returning the hug.

"Martha will be back in a few hours," Mickey said as the pulled back. "She was dead on her feet so I took her home. Once she has slept for a minimum of 7 hours she'll be back. She fell asleep about 4am so she'll be back by 2pm."

"Was she okay? I know she was already at the end of her rope when we came in," the Doctor asked worried as they sat in the two chairs in to room.

"Yeah, she was okay." Mickey soothed, "She only got Clara into surgery then sat with you till I arrived. She has pushed herself so much worse and been much worse off than she was last night."

"Good, good," the Timelord sighed. "Tell me Mickey, any idea who did this?"

"At this point? No," Mickey sighed sitting forward and bracing his elbows on his knees and chin on his clasped hands. "Recently, we've had several other cases similar to this one. From the description of the suspect, it seems to be the same man each time. Though this is the first where someone was shot. Till now he has been given what he wanted, the only other time he was denied he pistol whipped them and rifled through their pockets."

"He's escalating? Or do you think this was a one off?" The Doctor asked seriously.

"Honestly, if he follows the patterns left by other muggers like him, he will be escalating, getting more bold and confident," Mickey said morosely. "I've seen it before. It's not pretty. He's shot someone now, he'll likely do it again, and soon. He will want to feel that adrenaline rush again. He likely doesn't care that he almost killed Clara. He probably spooked himself when he actually pulled the trigger. That's why he ran without checking your pockets. But now he knows what it feels like, he will either turn himself in out of guilt, or look to do it again."

"How long does it take to turn themselves in or strike again?"

"Tonight, tomorrow night at the latest."

"If there is anything I can do..," the Doctor trailed off with a meaningful look.

"There probably won't be," Mickey shook his head. "Scotland Yard is very strict on who can help with our cases. I'll let you know though if there is anything you can do. Right now we just have to wait for Clara to wake up so we can get her statement."

The two were silent for a while. Mickey had been up all night filling out reports and arranging the transportation of the TARDIS, so he was dozing in his seat. The Doctor had moved from his seat not long after the man had started to nod off and was standing in front of the now open window. His mind was a million light years away, thinking about so much yet at the same time so little.

It was nearing 12:30 pm when the heart monitors on Clara showed an increase of her heart rate. The Doctor heard the change and was by her side a second later as she began to wake. Her eyes started to flutter before opening. She squinted at the light in the room for a moment before opening them all the way again. They quickly landed on the Doctor who was once again seated on the edge of her bed.

"Doctor," she said in a raspy voice. She winced at the sandpaper feeling in her throat. He leaned over to the side-table where a pitcher of water rested. Quickly pouring out a cup and grabbing a bendy straw he brought it to Clara's mouth to let her have a drink. She gave him a tired and grateful smile. In a still quiet voice she asked, "How long has it been?"

"You were shot at just before midnight last night, it is just now 12:30 pm the following afternoon," he said softly putting the water back on the nightstand. "How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?"

"Not right now," she replied after a moment. She shifted on the bed and tried to sit up but the Doctor's hand on her shoulder kept her reclined. He reached over to the control panel on the side of the bed and raised the bed just a little so she was more upright than reclined but still not fully up. "I mostly feel fuzzy, which I am sure is from the drugs and blood loss."

She looked around the room they were in and caught sight of the unfamiliar form of Mickey Smith still snoozing away in the chair by her side. She looked to the Doctor in confusion, "Who...?"

"Ah," The Doctor smiled and looked over to him. "That is Detective Inspector Mickey Smith. He is from Scotland Yard and will be working our case. He also happens to be an old friend of mine. I knew him in my Ninth and Tenth regenerations. It just so happened he was assigned to our case without knowing that it was me. He is married to Doctor Martha Jones, who is one of your doctors, is also an old friend of mine from my Tenth regeneration."

"I've wanted to meet others who have traveled with you to swap stories," Clara smiled slightly at the idea. The doctor got a slightly scared look on his face at the idea of companions talking about him, flashing back to when Sarah-Jane and Rose meet for the first time.

"Oh it's always fun," Mickey said, startling the two. He chuckled slightly at the looks he got from the two of them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I heard that last comment and couldn't help but respond. He hates when old companions get together cause we talk about embarrassing stuff and it's fun to watch him squirm."

Clara gave a strained laugh and winced again, the doctor was by her side still holding her hand and gave it a worried squeeze. She squeezed back in a comforting way.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Detective," Clara said with a smile. She held out her free hand, though it was trapped close by the IV. Mickey stepped over and gently shook her hand.

"The pleasure is mine Miss Oswald," Mickey smiled. "Though, I insist that you call me Mickey. We are fellow companions, we are family."

"Only if you call me Clara," Clara countered. She leaned back after he released her hand. "I take it you need an official statement."

"Yes, I do," Mickey sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "We can wait if you want. It doesn't have to be right now, but it does need to be today."

"Might as well do it now," Clara said, she adjusted herself on the bed so she was facing Mickey a bit better. "Ask away."

Mickey nodded and went to his jacket and pulled out his phone. He pulled open the recording app and set the phone down on the bed. "First, I would just like you to tell your story, we have already asked Mr. Smith to give his version but we would also like to hear it from you."

"It was such a normal night," Clara began with a shake of her head, she vaguely remembered the Doctor giving his name as John Smith when they brought in. "John and I went out to dinner to catch up, he used to work at the school I currently teach at. We were walking back towards the underground so that he could take me home when it happened."

Here she paused, she coughed a little and motioned for the water. She took a few long sips before continuing.

"He seemed to come out of nowhere, he was probably under a dark tree nearby. He came up behind us, quiet as a mouse. I heard the unmistakable click of him cocking the gun before he said anything. At the sound John and I stopped moving and splayed our hands out to our sides. That was when he spoke,

'So you know what that sound is, good. Put your hands above your head and turn around slowly,' his voice was low gravely. He was purposely changing it. When we finished turning I got a good look at him. He was taller than me but shorter than John, probably standing at 5 feet 10 or 11 inches. He was wearing all black and a baseball cap pulled as far down as he could manage. He had a cleft chin and a real narrow jaw, I could just make out the shine of glasses in the street light. He said, 'Alright, turn out your pockets. I wary to see everything.'

I did as asked, I have nothing to hide. John...John is a consultant to UNIT. His phone has contact information to important people and has classified information. We couldn't let his phone be taken. So he only partially turned out his pockets. He knew, I don't know how, but he knew John hadn't given everything. He focused the gun on John. He demanded,

'I said everything. I know there is more. All of it or you eat a bullet.'

I wanted to try and reason with him. Or at least distract him long enough for someone to notice what was happening. I took a tiny step forward and he swung the gun at me. He didn't even hesitate. He pulled the trigger. I can't remember if I screamed or not. Everything after that kinda runs together. I remember John yelling and another shot. I remember a nice man hovering over me with his hands on my chest, his lips were moving but I couldn't hear him. There were sirens in the distance. I remember being transferred to the ambulance and John hovering with blood dripping down his face. I remember the lights and sounds of the hospital. I remember a woman, a doctor, she was nice. She kept talking to me and stayed by my side with John till I was taken to surgery. Then nothing."

"Thank you Miss Oswald," Mickey said and reached for his phone. "You covered everything well. No further questions at this time."

He then tapped the screen and the recording stopped.

"UNIT consultant?" The Doctor asked amused.

"Well it's true," Clara defended. She gently flicked his ear. "You've pulled their asses out of the fire enough."

"I can attest to that," A voice laughed from the door. The three turned to see Martha in the door wearing casual clothes. "I'm glad you are awake and alert."

"You must be Doctor Smith-Jones," Clara smiled.

"Just Martha will do," she said and came to the side if the bed. She took the chart from the foot of the bed a flipped through the notes from the surgeon. "Well you were very lucky. The bullet missed everything vital, your lungs, heart and arteries. They retrieved the bullet in one piece, cleaned the wound and closed it. You'll be in pain for about a week and sore for a month or so but you'll live with no permanent injury save for a small scar."

Clara smiled wider and went to respond but yawned instead.

"Sleep Clara," Martha said softly. She walked to the controls on the side of the bed and lowered it back to a more reclined position. "You've been through alot and need rest."

Clara nodded tiredly, the Doctor gently adjusted her blankets and gave her a kiss on the forehead and she was out.

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