As the TARDIS settled in it's designated landing spot and Aeryn and the Doctor stepped out into what appeared to be someone's living room, they looked all about in confusion.
"Well this wasn't what I was expecting. I thought we were going to a concert, or something?" Aeryn frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "Are we in the right place?"
"How should I know? You're the driver!" The Doctor nudged a few magazines with his boot, noting how the TARDIS had strewn papers everywhere during her rather windy landing.
"I'm gonna have a look around," Aeryn told him, heading out into the hallway. A couple of minutes later, her head peered back round the door frame. "Oh and maybe you should make sure whoever lives here knows we're here. I'd imagine they might not be too happy at the mess you've made."
"At the mess I've made?!" He scoffed incredulously. But she'd already gone, and after a few seconds he heard the sound of a door opening and closing again.
He looked all around at the room. And then froze.
"I know this place," he realised, as a cold feeling of dread suddenly crept over him. "I know this place! Why do I know this place?!"
Crossing the room in three long strides, he stopped in front of the floor to ceiling shelving units, lined with various books, ornaments and pictures in frames. With a trembling hand, he reached out and took one frame down to study it more closely.
"No…...impossible…." he breathed, seeing two familiar faces beaming back at him.
Clara Oswald and Danny Pink, posing for a selfie in the middle of what appeared to be some kind of tree-lined park.
Setting the frame back where he'd found it, he took another one down. This time it was a picture of him and Clara, raising their champagne flutes to the camera in 'one last hurrah' aboard the Orient Express.
He shoved that picture quickly back on the shelf as well and turned to the coffee table, where he'd seen a pile of letters.
"Miss C. Oswald," he read aloud.
There could be no denying where he was. Or more specifically, where Aeryn had brought him.
He was in Clara's flat! Everything was untouched, just as she'd left it, waiting for her to come back. But of course, she never would. Unless...what if they were in the past, and Clara was still alive?
He licked his finger quickly and stuck it in the air, then licked it again to check the date, before collapsing back into the sofa and tossing the pile of letters angrily onto the coffee table.
21st November 2015. Two days before Clara's 30th birthday. But that wasn't the reason the Doctor was upset.
He was upset because 21st November 2015 was the day she died.
"Why are we here?" He shouted angrily to the motionless, still form of the TARDIS. "Why today?! WHY?! Is it not enough that I've endured it over and over in my mind? You have to torture and torment me even more, by bringing me back here?! Knowing that she's out there, right now, and she's going to walk into that trap street, and I can do nothing to save her?!"
He buried his head in his hands, fighting back tears of anger and grief then, completely forgetting who he had even come here with. Aeryn had wandered off, and he'd forgotten all about her.
The TARDIS gave a low groan as she appeared to settle down, waiting for a long spell of inactivity, and a light breeze from one of the windows, which was slightly ajar, blew the stack of envelopes onto the floor by the Doctor's feet. All save one.
One which caught his eye, as he looked up again and rubbed his face with one hand.
The envelope had his name on. Just his name. Nothing else. And it wasn't in a hand that he recognised.
His curiosity overcoming his grief momentarily, he reached out and took the envelope, tearing it open and pulling out four cards, about the same size and shape as the prompt cards that Clara had once made for him.
"Question 1," the first card read. "How can I remember meeting both you and Clara, when you can't remember meeting me?"
He turned it over, realising who the cards were from, and wondering when and where Aeryn had had the time to not only write them, but plant them here in the flat in the first place. Had she been here before? When?!
"Answer: You're a time traveller who goes back and forth and sideways in time. I travel the long way round, so it's entirely possible we met out of order. My past is your future, that hasn't happened yet."
Well, that strangely made sense. She'd figured that out by herself? Impressive. He set that card to one side, and looked to the next one.
"Question 2. If that is the case, and our encounter in my past is still to happen in your future, then how can Clara have been with you? She's gone….isn't she?"
Again, he turned the card over.
"Conjecture. What if she's not? Check the bedroom."
Not sure he wanted to believe that this was even happening, the Doctor rose slowly and did as the card suggested, following it's instructions as he walked through the flat, to what would have been Clara's bedroom. The door was closed, and he hesitated for a moment, but only a moment, before reaching out and turning the handle to push the door open, wondering what he'd find inside.
The room was dark, the curtains drawn closed, and he could barely see anything. So he flicked on the light.
And staggered back in shock, bracing himself against the doorway.
This was impossible, and brilliant, and wonderful and….completely, utterly impossible! He must be hallucinating. It was the only explanation. Because what he was seeing was so very wrong.
"This can't be," he breathed, pulling out his sonic shades and slipping back into the room again, standing at the end of the bed and scanning up and down, double, triple, quadruple checking the readings he was getting, and still not believing them.
The young woman tucked up in the bed wasn't a zygon, or a clone, or a doppleganger, or a shapechanger. She was most definitely human.
She only had mild concussion from a minor head trauma, but was otherwise unharmed.
She was most certainly alive, albeit unconscious.
She was so very impossible.
And she was Clara Oswald!
"Clara?" the Doctor breathed, suddenly overcome with emotion as he hurried round to the side of the bed before his knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor beside it. "My Clara?"
Reaching out a trembling hand, he touched hers as it lay prone on top of the bed cover, and as his skin made contact with hers, a charge of electric, like a static shock, snapped between them.
Clara's eyes fluttered slowly open.
"Doctor?" She groaned, dazed and disoriented as she tried to sit up. "Doct-ow!"
"It's all right, Clara. I'm here," he spoke gently as he whipped the shades off, stuffed them in his pocket and quickly fell into comfort mode – a mode he was not used to being in. Usually it was Clara who was the gentle one, and he was the rough, abrasive one. So this concept was an entirely new one to him, at least in this regeneration.
"Take it slowly. That's it." He adjusted and plumped up the pillows behind her head so that she was propped a little more upright. And then he carefully perched on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in both of his and giving it a gentle squeeze – partly to comfort her, but mainly to convince himself that this was very real, and very much happening. He wasn't dreaming, or hallucinating.
She was actually, really, truly there. Lying in bed, dazed and confused and very clearly having absolutely no idea which way was up, down, left or right, at that particular moment.
"How are you feeling?"
She reached up with her free hand to gently probe the cut on her temple, and the rapidly forming bruise. "Like I've done ten rounds with the Mire. What happened?"
What had happened indeed? If only he knew!
"You've got a thick skull," he commented, not really sure what else to say. "It's not cracked, but you should lie still for a time. At least until you get your balance back."
Clara, who'd been trying to get up again, flopped back into the mound of pillows with an exaggerated sigh. "And HOW did I almost get a cracked skull?"
"I don't know," he shook his head, even as he gave her hand another encouraging squeeze.
She gave him one of her big, wide eyed looks that begged 'please don't lump me in with the rest of the stupid humans. Please tell me the truth.'
"Doctor, what happened?"
"I'm telling you the truth now," he told her, deadly calm, deadly serious as he stood up and reluctantly let go of her hand, before leaning forward and gently brushing her hair to one side so he could study the cut more closely. "I honestly don't know. But I promise you, I'm going to find out."
She gazed up at him without saying a word, but he knew just from her look, that she believed him. She flinched when he pressed the bruising lightly, then bit her lip, but she didn't utter a word of protest.
It looked like she'd been hit round the head with a large, heavy object. But who would do that to her? And why?
Why knock her unconscious, then tuck her up in bed and make her comfortable? Why contradict their own actions?
He suddenly remembered the last two cards that had been in the envelop addressed to him. He hadn't read them yet. Maybe they held the answers? Aeryn had known that Clara was here, after all. But how could she have known? Unless she'd had anything to do with it? But when? And how?
Clara glanced to the clock on her bedside table as he stepped back away from the bed and pulled the cards from his pocket. But her gasp stopped him short.
"Oh my God, Rigsy! Is he ok?!"
She was already trying to get out of bed again, throwing the covers off and trying to sit back up. So the Doctor jammed the cards back into his pocket, then gently but firmly pressed her back into the pillows and pulled the cover over her again, lightly slapping her hand away when she tried to protest and pull them off once more.
"Local Knowledge is fine!" He insisted firmly. "Whilst you were having an afternoon siesta, I saved him and sent him on his way."
Clara looked to him for a beat or two longer, then once again decided that she believed him and allowed herself to sink back into the pillows. "So he's okay?"
"He's absolutely fine. Unlike you, who needs to rest!"
"And what about you?"
"I," he started, forcing himself to be bright and nonchalant, "need to go and put the handbrake on in the TARDIS. Otherwise she might end up wandering off to the middle ages again. Then I'm going to find out who did this to you, and more importantly why. And in the mean time, can I get you anything? Water? Tea? A magazine?"
"Tea would be good," she nodded, gently probing the side of her head to assess the damage herself, then wincing. "Some aspirin and an ice pack would also be appreciated."
"Yes Ma'am," he smiled and nodded, slipping from the room.
Instead of heading for the kitchen, however, he ran into the TARDIS, pulled out the final two cards and began to read them.
"By now I'm assuming you've found her, and if you haven't, what the hell is taking you so long, old man?!" He snorted in indignation at this, then carried on reading. "So, question three. How is this possible?"
He turned the card over.
"Answer: I might have taken a slight detour with the TARDIS after dumping the basilisk in that supernova – which is bloody gorgeous by the way! Most beautiful thing I've ever seen! But I'm deviating. The TARDIS helped me, but it's not her fault, so please don't blame her. If you're angry at anyone, be angry at me."
He threw the card over his shoulder now that he'd read it, and quickly went on to the last card.
"Final question: What if the Clara Oswald who walked into that trap street with you, wasn't Clara Oswald at all? What if the real Clara Oswald had always been lying in her own bed, waiting for you to get over your grief and find her again?"
Once more, he turned the final card over to read the last part on the back.
"Conjecture: If it wasn't Clara who walked into that trap street, then who was it? Well, I think you know the answer already, Doctor. Because if you're as smart as I know you are, then you'll have worked out that I've taken on the form of Clara once before. I hope I can be as convincing this second time round. So, it's been a real pleasure knowing you, and I honestly mean that. I wish our parting could have been under better circumstances, but I hope that one day you'll understand. Goodbye Doctor."
It had been signed in the bottom right hand corner by Aeryn, and she'd even drawn a smiley face beneath her name. But the Doctor wasn't smiling. How could he be?
He dropped the card to the floor and slammed a fist off the TARDIS console. He shouldn't be angry. He should be thrilled. Clara was alive! All this time he'd thought she was dead, and she wasn't! She was safe and, aside from being a little shaken, she was alive! So why was he angry?
But of course he knew why.
Clara's life had come at a price. One that he'd never been willing to pay. Yes, back on Gallifrey when he'd demanded the extraction machines to pull Clara from the seconds before what he'd assumed was her death, he'd shot the General with his own side arm. But the General was a Time Lord. He'd regenerated and learned from his – or rather her mistake now, not to cross the Doctor again. The Doctor hadn't been able to extract Clara from the Trap Street, but no-one had tried to stop him from stealing a TARDIS and leaving, either.
Now, though, Aeryn had taken the step to remove him from the decision altogether. She was foolishly throwing her life away, and unlike the General, she wouldn't regenerate. It was the end of the road, for her.
The TARDIS phone started to ring on the console, and he stared at it for a moment in surprise, then snatched it up.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry, Doctor." It was Aeryn. "I know you're furious..."
"Too right I am! What the hell are you playing at?!"
"I worked it out a long time ago," she admitted.
"How long ago? And how did you get this number?!"
"I might have taken Clara's phone," her voice had dropped low now, like she was trying not to be overheard. "And I worked it out when you took me to the TARDIS for the first time. You remember when I woke up, you asked why my eyes had been leaking? Well the truth is, I'd had a dream. I saw what happens in that Trap Street. I saw what happens to Clara. And that's when it all fell into place. I realised it couldn't have been Clara. Because I know for a fact I've met Clara in the past. She gave me that iPod. I couldn't have imagined it because you saw it. You knew it belonged to her. And something she said to me way back then, only made sense after I'd had that dream. So I knew it had to have happened."
"What did she say?" The Doctor asked quietly, leaning heavily against the console as the anger drained away and he rubbed his face with his free hand.
"That some day we'd meet again. And I'd save her life. When the raven called, I'd be there, and she'd be forever indebted to me."
He let out a long, slow breath. "Aeryn, listen to me. Once you walk into that street, it's game over. You will die."
"I know."
"And I can't save you."
"I'm not expecting you to. Doctor, we both know that if I don't do this, Clara will die. Please, don't try to talk me out of it. I've made my choice, and I've made my peace with that decision. Clara Oswald is brilliant, and brave, and strong. She's fierce, she's smart, and she's every bit your equal. I can never hope to be even half the woman she is, so I don't intend to be."
"You severely underestimate yourself. You've survived your entire life up until this point – that's a hell of a long lifespan that not many in the Universe can relate to, yours truly not included, of course. You've survived traumas, heartbreak, devastation, the different phases of life. And here you are now. You should be congratulating yourself for being so amazing! Not comparing yourself to someone else and analysing the differences."
"Even so Doctor, this isn't about me. We both know that. And I've seen what you're like with her. You said it yourself. Without her, you're a mess, and it's not pretty. And believe me, I should know. You've been grieving for four weeks. I've been grieving for four centuries. That pain will never go away. When the grief fades and becomes a memory, it still hurts like hell. I told you back in the library that I'd endured. You said that enduring isn't living, and you're right. I can't go on like this any more Doctor, and I've been planning this for some time. But always, something got in the way, or I lost my nerve. Now though…..well now I have a chance to...to make it not such a selfish action. My death can bring about something good...it won't be wasted. It won't be in vain, and I can die with a clean conscience, knowing that Clara Oswald is alive, because of me."
"Aeryn, at least think about what you're doing."
"I have, Doctor. Believe me, I've not made this choice lightly. But don't waste your breath. Nothing you say will make me change my mind now. And at least this way, I'll be with Maric again. So go and be with Clara. Live again, have fun, have adventures! Be a Doctor! And besides, this isn't goodbye. We'll meet again soon."
"Right," he managed a small smile. "On your twelve hundred and twelfth birthday."
"Exactly. And I can promise you, it'll be one hell of a ride."
"I look forward to it," he managed a bigger, more genuine smile now. "Aeryn -"
"Don't say goodbye, Doctor. We've done that already, remember? Before I face the raven, THAT'S when we'll say goodbye."
"But I thought I was saying goodbye to Clara then."
"Will saying goodbye to me be any different?"
He thought about it for a moment, and then sighed. "No, I suppose it won't. And I suppose all I have left to say…...is thank you."
Now it was her turn to be confused. "What for?"
"For working it out. For bringing her back to me. For being utterly amazing….for being yourself."
"That's a lot to be thankful for."
"Like I said, you severely underestimate yourself. Aeryn?"
"Yes, Doctor?"
"You know how this ends. You know you won't be leaving that street alive. But no-one else knows that, and they can't know either. If anyone – especially myself – suspects anything at all, then time and history will be re-written. That can't happen."
"I know," she sounded like she was smiling and nodding. "Like a small boat on the ocean, sending big waves into motion."
"Yes, exactly like that. Ripples into tidal waves."
"Don't worry Doctor, I know how careful I'm gonna have to be. Now, you promise me you'll take care of her. You treasure each moment with her, and you look after her. Because I won't always be there to trade places with her."
"Of course. You have my word."
"Then goodbye Doctor. See you again soon."
"Goodbye Hoppity."
She chuckled at that, and even he managed a small grin.
He held onto the line for a moment longer, and before Aeryn hung up, he could hear a muffled sort of noise, followed by rapidly increasing footfalls. She was running now.
And then his voice, as she stopped, panting slightly. "What happened to all the stuff I asked you to bring?"
And then Aeryn's voice in reply. Or rather Clara's voice. "Someone called you. Yesterday, 6am. Blocked number."
That was it, the line went dead and he knew that she had now become Clara. There was no going back. She was going to play the part, she was going to walk into that trap street, she was going to save Rigsy, and she was going to die. And no-one, except him, would ever know the truth.
No, he would not let her be forgotten. He would remember her, and what she had done. And he would make sure Clara knew it too. Because Clara deserved to know the truth. She wouldn't like it, but she deserved to know it.
Rooting around on one of the shelves on the upper level, he quickly dug out the watch he'd invented to turn himself invisible, tucked it into his pocket then stepped back out of the TARDIS and into the kitchen.