~Reflections in a Photograph~

Clara was surprised when the police took her to the local medical center along with Vicky. They treated her with caution as though see might become violent at any moment, but everyone was also very nice to her. They placed her in an examination room with one female officer to stand guard. The officer didn't say anything, just stood in the corner.

The room was about as boring as such rooms could be. Beige walls covered in posters about washing your hands and taking vitamins, and gray lament flooring smelling strongly of disinfectant. The table she was sitting on was made of light blue plastic and crinkled every time Clara moved. Even in her current apprehension it was irritating.

A nurse came to examine Clara. She wore pink scrubs with little teddy bears on them suggesting she normally worked with children. The woman was friendly, yet the ordeal was still embarrassing. She asked Clara a series of increasingly awkward questions mostly about her relationship with the Doctor. She wasn't used to people being so direct on subjects that would be considered taboo in her world. Not that Clara conformed to those ideals, obviously since she wouldn't be wearing white at her wedding.

Things got even more uncomfortable when the nurse took note of the amount of bruising on Clara's body. She often got pretty banged up on her and the Doctor's misadventures. He healed quickly, she didn't. The nurse looked like she wanted to give Clara a hug, but her professionalism got in the way. Clara had a sneaking suspicion she knew where this was going.

"You think he hurt me, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"Did he?"

"No!" Clara cried. She wanted someone to believe her. She hated that they thought the Doctor capable this. "He would never hurt me! And he didn't hurt Vicky either; we were trying to help her."

The nurse frowned at Clara's earnestness. She clearly wanted to believe her but wasn't allowed to say so. "All I can do is report what I see. And that's a young woman in good health. Despite the bruising, I find no direct signs of abuse. Though that's enough to concern me."

After the exam Clara was taken to the police station, which was next door. It was small, but swarming with officers from three different counties. Obviously they had everyone working on the missing girls' case. If only the police hadn't caught the wrong man. She didn't see any sign of the Doctor.

Clara was processed; they took her picture and fingerprints. After that everyone treated her as though she were breakable, while asking her questions. She tried to be as honest as possible without saying she lived in a time machine or that her fiancé was an alien. That probably wouldn't go over too well. Even so her answers were vague enough to frustrate the officers. She could say her name, age, and that she was originally from London, but other than that nothing.

Clara found herself in an integration room. It was cold, poorly lit, and creepy. She wondered if she was being paranoid because it felt like the mirror on the wall was watching her. Clara tried not to look at it and instead stared at a water stain. A long time passed before the door opened and Officer Reese stepped in. He'd been the one questioning her earlier.

Clara looked up when Reese entered the room. He had a file in his hands and a concerned expression.

"We ran your fingerprints," he said in the same kind voice he'd used all evening. "And we got a match."

She waited for him to continue. Reese took the chair opposite her and carefully placed the file between them.

"Five years is a long time, Clara. Now I don't want you to get upset, but I need to know what he did to you."

Reese withdrew a photograph from the file and set it in front of Clara. She gasped in shock. It was a picture of her younger self, only the photo was dated 9 May, 2005.

"That's not possible!" she cried.

What the hell was going on? The girl in the picture was undoubtedly her, but it wasn't her. It was in color with modern clothing and there was a car in the background for goodness sake!

Reese watched her reaction with interest. "Clara Oswald, age 14, dies in a car accident along with her parents in 2005. Their car hits a patch of ice and skids off a bridge. Only the daughter's body is never recovered. It seems now we know why."

Clara shook her head uncomprehendingly. It felt like she was going to get sick. Everything about this was wrong. "That's not me!"

"You told me yourself you were Clara Oswald." Reese said patiently. "How did you end up with Mr. Smith or should I say 'the Doctor'? Did he find you in the river or later?"

Clara didn't respond. The photo had her full attention. The other Clara smiled up at her oblivious to the fact she was going to die. A shiver ran down her spine. Was she some kind of ghost?

"Where are the other girls?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." she said, "But the Doctor had nothing to do with it. Some guy attacked Vicky; we were just trying to help her!"

"You were seen following her out of the bar." he stated.

Clara sighed in exasperation. The officer was only doing his job. Not knowing about aliens and wormholes he was doing the best that he could. Clara understood, but it didn't make her any less irritated. They were accusing the man she loved of kidnapping women and holding her as some sort of concubine. As if any man could keep her against her will.

"Yes! Because she was acting oddly we thought something might be wrong with her. Looks like we were right."

"Even if that were true it doesn't explain how you're alive. How did you survive the crash? Where have you been the last five years?" queried Reese.

"You want the truth?" Clara snapped, "Here it is: I'm a time traveler. I was born in 1864. I have no idea who that girl is or why she looks like me. I do know that the missing women were taken through a wormhole to a planet called Mandel. That enough truth for you?"

For a fraction of a second recognition flickered in the officer's eyes, before returning to distain. It was quick but Clara caught it.

"You saw it didn't you?"


PC Talbot was waiting for Reese outside the interrogation room. He'd been watching through the two-way mirror during Clara's questioning.

"He's sure done a number on her brain." said Talbot.

Reese nodded. Everything about his conversation with the girl unnerved him. From her bewildered reaction to her own photo to her fantastical explanation. Though it was true that for a split second when he'd turned the corner Reese would have sworn he saw a blue gateway in the middle of the sidewalk. This was of course nothing but a trick of the light, yet then how did Clara know about it?

Talbot continued oblivious to his colleague's distress, "The hospital's saying there is some kind of foreign compound in Vicky Strong's blood. He must dose them to make them more compliant before brainwashing them."

"Brainwashing?" said Reese.

"It's not like it's a story we haven't heard before." Talbot said disgustedly, "The handsome, charismatic man who takes women and convinces them to do his bidding." He nodded towards Clara's door. "The nurse said she wasn't an unwilling participant. Not surprising if he's been keeping her holed up somewhere for 5 years, you know the whole Stockholm syndrome thing. Just never expected it to happen here."

"I think I prefer the days where all we had to deal with was vandalism." Reese sighed, opening the door to the second interrogation room.

The odd young man was waiting for him impassively, handcuffed to the table. Reese hadn't dealt with him directly yet. Everyone who had couldn't stop talking about him. He'd been completely cooperative, beyond insisting that he wasn't their suspect and that they ought to let him go. His driver's license identified him as a Mr. John Smith, age 26, from London. Reese highly doubted the validity of that and he kept referring to himself as 'The Doctor'. Sitting down across from him Reese gave the usual right to silence speech.

"You are under arrest for attempted kidnapping, and suspicion of murder. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?" said the officer.

"Where is Clara?" the Doctor demanded.

"Miss Oswald has been taken into protective custody. I'm afraid you won't be seeing her again."

"Why exactly is my fiancé in protective custody?" the man asked with a humorless smile.

"You and Miss Oswald are getting married?" he replied keeping his face equally controlled.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair causally. Though he was the one in restraints he had control of the room. It was effortless. Reese had been warned about the man's magnetic personality already; it had been messing with everyone who talked to him. He had a nonchalant, if impatient, attitude but Reese could see an anger simmering behind his eyes. This was not a man to cross.

"We haven't set a date yet or anything, I've only just asked her. I haven't even got the chance to give her the ring."

"Why wait so long to ask her?" the officer inquired.

Confusion flickered in the man's eyes, "I've only known her few months. I was thinking I'd jumped the gun a bit, myself."

"Only a few months? I find that hard to believe." Reese pulled out the photo of 14 year old Clara Oswald and slammed it down on the table. "Because what I think is she was your first victim. Did you see the car go over or did you find her later? Thought she was pretty, easy to manipulate? Decided to keep her for yourself?"

The man stared at the photo with the same flabbergasted expression as the girl. Again the reaction seemed genuine. Reese was starting to wonder if there wasn't something else going on here. Suddenly the Doctor laughed, a thousand watt smile lighting up his face.

"This is brilliant! Something's going on, something impossible! I have absolutely no idea what, but this means I can save her!" he cried. He looked up at Reese, "And you're going to help me."

"What?"

"You want to get the missing girls back, right? So do I." said the Doctor, "That's why I'm here. But the longer I'm stuck in here the less likely it is I can save them."

"Why's that?" Reese knew he was losing it, because he felt like he could trust the Doctor. He had every reason to suspect the man of murder, yet he wanted to do what he said. It wasn't logical.

"Because the longer the wormhole stays closed the harder it is to reopen." The Doctor narrowed his eyes watching Reese's reaction to that statement. He smiled again.

"I knew you saw it!" he said, "It was all over your face at the scene. Now you can either keep pretending it was your imagination or you can help me. What's it going to be?"

Reese glanced between the Doctor and the two-way mirror. God help him, he was going to do it. He was going to do what the Doctor asked.


Author's Notes:

Almost at the end of this story arch, then the Doctor has to face the music and meet Clara's father. Dun dun dunn...

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