As Martha looked into the Doctor's eyes, he couldn't help the assault of memories that rushed to the front of his mind. It felt like it was lifetimes ago when he last saw her, and yet here she was, alive and well.
"How long has it been?" Martha asked.
"More than a thousand years," he answered.
"I like this face," Martha said. "It's very different, but it suits you. I almost didn't recognize you, but the eyes give you away."
"Doctor," Kate interrupted. "What do you need our help with?"
"Two of our friends have been taken by aliens," the Doctor answered.
Martha and Kate exchanged a worried look. "You must be very desperate to come to us," Kate said.
"These aliens are good. They know how to cover their tracks. I can't find them alone," the Doctor admitted.
Kate nodded solemnly and sat at her desk. "I'll run a quick scan of alien sightings within the past few months," she said. Her eyes flitted across the screen. "There's only been four, and they've all been non-hostile. Things have been relatively quiet." With a click of her mouse, the printer whirred to life. "I'm printing the list out for you. You're welcome to use our computers to take a look at the footage."
Martha retrieved the printed paper and handed it to the Doctor. "I can take the two of you down to a computer room, if you'd like," she offered.
The Doctor took the paper and glanced over the names. The list contained Vivocci, Hath, Silurians, and Judoon, neither of which were sighted anywhere in Britain. It felt as if his hearts dropped into his stomach at the unlikelihood of either of these aliens having Clara. Still, the Doctor decided it was worth looking into, but he hoped that he wasn't wasting time. The longer Clara and Molly were gone, the smaller there chances of finding them alive were.
"Yes, thank you," the Doctor replied.
"Do you think we've got a chance of finding the ones who took Clara?" John asked, speaking for the first time.
"Yes," the Doctor lied. "We'll find them soon. I know it." He smiled, hoping the fear in his eyes wouldn't give him away.
Sherlock slumped down on Molly's couch, feeling defeated. He had spent hours searching both Clara's and Molly's flats, and he still couldn't identify which alien took them. Whatever they were, they were good. No, that was an understatement. They were experts.
"It's like they were expecting me," Sherlock mused aloud.
"The Doctor is an excellent tracker too," Mycroft gently reminded him.
"Not like I am," Sherlock replied, shaking his head. "Are you positive we're dealing with aliens?"
"Yes," Mycroft answered.
"It looks like John trashed Clara's place looking for her. Even here, it's no clearer. Besides the busted door, there's no trace." Sherlock groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. Things were looking grimmer by the second.
Absently, he rubbed at his sore wrist. It was just another reminder that the universe seemed to hate him. Ever since Moriarty's reappearance, he hadn't been able to catch a break.
Once again, he scanned the flat. Everything was in it's place. Sherlock squinted. There was a blue vase sitting on Molly's shelf, and from his position, he could see a tiny crack in it. "Well, that wasn't there before."
Mycroft's eyes shot over to the vase. "So there was a struggle," he said.
Sherlock bounded over to the shelf and examined the contents. "There's not as much dust," he concluded. "Whoever this was, they cleaned up their mess nicely."
"What do we do now?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock grinned. "I need to make a phone call."
The Doctor had been pouring over the videos for nearly an hour as John and Martha sat back and watched. "I think we can cross the Silurian pair off. They just looked lost, and they weren't here for very long before they climbed back into their ship. Besides, that was in Germany. Though I am curious as to how they got here in the first place."
"So are we," Martha replied. "But like I said, they were non-hostile."
John sighed hopelessly. He knew the Doctor had been lying when he said that they would find Clara and Molly soon. For once, the Doctor was just as confused as John. Normally, he would have found that amusing, but in such a dire situation, it worried him to no end.
Not for the first time, John wished that Sherlock was there. Perhaps with his genius combined with the Doctor's, they would stand a chance at finding them. As it was now, they were searching for two needles in the proverbial haystack, except the haystack was infinite.
"The Judoon also, as it appears that they were only hunting down the Silurians," the Doctor added.
"What about the other two?" John asked.
"The two Vivocci were recovering a spaceship in Quebec. I suppose it's possible that they used that to sneak into London and kidnap out friends. They are our strongest suspects at the moment," the Doctor explained.
While it was indeed possible, it seemed highly unlikely to John. Judging by the fear in the Doctor's eyes, it seemed highly unlikely to him as well. Neither wanted to admit that they were grasping at straws. I suppose straws is better than nothing, John thought grimly.
"What about the Hath?" John asked.
"They touched down in Brazil, spied on the locals for a bit, then flew away. I would count them out."
"The Hath are generally peaceful anyways, so long as they are unprovoked," Martha added.
John's phone began ringing. With a heavy sigh, he pulled it out of his pocket. When he saw the number, he froze. "That's not possible," he said softly.
"What is it?" Martha asked curiously.
"It's my friend, only he's been dead for over a year now," John replied.
The Doctor whipped around fast to face John. "Sherlock?" he asked.
John nodded in response before answering the phone. "Hello?" he asked, holding his breath.
"John," the unmistakable voice on the other end responded.
"It really is you," John replied, amazed. "How?"
"Short version: not dead. Look, I know you have questions, and I'll explain everything. First, I need you and the Doctor to come pick me up. I'm at Molly's flat. I think I can help you find Clara and Molly."
"Bloody hell," John murmured, shaking his head with disbelief as the Doctor watched on in amazement. "Alright, we're coming."
There was a click from the other end, signaling that Sherlock had hung up again. John stared dumbly down at his phone. Of course, he had dreamed about this moment where he found at that his best friend wasn't dead, but he had lost all hope of it ever happening, and what he did imagine certainly wasn't anything like that phone call. Ecstatic joy rose through him, but it mingled with seething rage and bitter hurt. It was as if he was feeling everything at once. The overall feeling wasn't pleasant.
Martha was at the computer, moving files around. "I've put the videos onto a flash drive for you. It sounds as if you have to go somewhere."
"Yes," the Doctor agreed. He accepted the flash drive and pocketed it. "Where are we going, John?"
"Molly's flat," John answered.
As the pair stepped into the TARDIS, Martha raised her hand in farewell. "I hope you find your friends," she said.
The doors shut, and the Doctor set to work putting the coordinates in. "I don't believe it," John stated.
"Neither do I," the Doctor admitted.
"Do you think it's a trap?" John asked.
"It's possible," the Doctor replied. "Never hurts to be prepared."
John nodded in agreement. "Your friend is nice," he said, changing the subject. "Did you ever travel with her?"
"Yes," the Doctor answered. "That was two lifetimes ago."
The TARDIS lurched into the vortex, and John clung onto the rails for balance. He had no idea if he was heading towards his best friend or certain doom, and he had no idea what he was hoping for.