A/N: First part is in Oswin's POV, Second part is in Clara's.
The dumbwaiter moved up slowly from the basement of the Great Intelligence's headquarters.
Oswin rolled the metal tip of her screwdriver between her thumb and forefinger, trying not to think about what would happen once they reached the top floor.
It was dark to the point of blackness. Matthew's uneven breathing ruffled her hair and sounded amplified in the eerie silence. His hands rested below her tool belt, on the lower part of her stomach, protecting the tiny almost nonexistent swell that existed there.
Finding the building had been relatively easy with the help of their driver, Henry. While they'd hidden at a little place they had on Long Island, he'd scouted the city for the car that had kidnapped Clara and her husband. Once they got there, cutting off the main power had been laughably simple. Locating the back up source had been a little less so, but she'd done it in seconds and the building had then completely lost power. She could only hope it would be enough for them to do what they had come to do.
She wriggled in her husband's lap, uncomfortable in the tiny space, and eager to get out of the dumbwaiter.
Matthew had, of course, firmly opposed her plan in the beginning, but using guilt to her advantage, Oswin had managed to convince him. She didn't know why, but she knew it was her duty to save the Doctor.
She'd heard Clara call him that once in a hushed voice, and since then she'd felt nothing but the urge- no...the need to protect him.
The dumbwaiter came to halt, and she made to open the door.
Matthew lifted his arms up from her sides to wrap them around her shoulders.
"No," he said.
"We've already spoken about this," she said, "Let me go."
"No."
"We have to save them, they're..."
"Not related to you in any way," he said, his voice terse with an undertone of fear.
She sighed, her body going loose and sinking against his.
"I know," she said, "But this isn't a question of blood. It's a question of whether leaving them to these people is the right thing to do."
She breathed in, her left hand tight around the screwdriver, "I don't think I could live with myself if I let them die here."
And it was true... They would die here if she didn't step in. If Clara wasn't her sister then she was her doppelgänger. They could potentially use her for ransom and nobody would ever know the difference.
Oswin shuddered. Her father wouldn't pay the ransom. He *couldn't* pay the ransom.
The family company had fallen upon hard times recently. She had attempted to persuade her father to modernize the products (they made torches), but he had only scoffed, saying that her proposals were fantasies only a woman could come up with.
The Doctor and Clara would be disposed of if she didn't do something,
"Please, Oswin," Matthew begged, "We can still leave, we can still escape. Think of our child. Think of the baby."
She pressed her lips to his softly, felt his arms loosen around her and pulled away.
"I am. I am. But we have to save them..."
Slowly, she turned from him, ignoring his quiet 'no' and inching open the door.
A gust of cool air dried the thin sheen of nervous sweat on her forehead within seconds.
She swung her legs out, and then the rest of her body. Her grip on the screwdriver rendered her knuckles white. Looking around the room, she was immediately aware of the screaming and indiscernible thumps coming from just past the closed doors at the far end of the room.
"Where are we," Matthew asked, his tone hushed.
"I dunno, kitchen maybe... There's a stove and a pantry," Oswin said, pulling a small torch from her tool belt and switching it on.
She opened a drawer and closed it hurriedly, "What do you reckon is going on out there?"
His shoulders tensed in a shrug tainted by worry.
"Must we find out though darling? We can still go back."
"We need to get them out of here," she said, but the words sounded fearful even to her ears.
Matthew sighed, his dark hair falling from its usually molded quiff and into his eyes.
Fleetingly, Oswin marveled at how much the Doctor looked like her husband. They had the same slim figure, the same green eyes, the same hair... Their chin's were different though. Matthew possessed a small chin; the Doctor, a large one.
It must have been a coincidence that they shared so many of the same factions, but soon it occurred to her that all her boyfriends (well, the two she'd had before Matthew) all seemed to have the same physical traits.
Brushing the thoughts away like troublesome flies, she ushered her husband toward the closed door.
"Wait!" he cried.
From his pocket he drew a small black pistol, and looked at her with a rather awkward expression..
Her eyes widened, her eyebrows going upward in the direction of her hairline.
"Since when have you had that?!"
"Since Henry reminded me that my wife, whom I love more than the Earth itself, is throwing herself and our unborn child into a life threatening situation unarmed," he paused, "I never thought I'd ever actually have to hold one of these things.
Turning the gun over in his hand, he looked into her watering eyes, "But then again, I never thought I'd meet someone for whom I would use a firearm for in a heartbeat."
He knelt down, keeping the gun pointed at the floor, and leaned forward to press a kiss to her stomach.
Heart expanding, Oswin watched on as he quickly made the sign of the cross over her and jumped to his feet.
"We're going to be okay," she choked and then launched herself into his arms.
Matthew didn't say anything back, only holding her until she was ready to let to.
Simeon told them nothing as he shoved them into a rather small room.
There was the turning of a key and then nothing but the faint screams coming from just beyond the door.
"Doctor," she whispered.
"Yes?" he asked
"Now would be an excellent time for a plan."
"Gotcha. And I'm trying to think of one. It'll come to me don't worry," he said.
"Doctor," she whispered again.
"Yes?"
"What did he mean by anomalies? And why was he so afraid? What are those noises?
There was a crash from outside the room and Clara's breath hitched.
The Doctor moved from where he was standing to be in front of her.
Another crash, and a bloodcurdling scream that seemed to belong to a man burned itself into her eardrums.
The Doctor held a finger over her lips, resting it there for a moment before slowly lowering it.
"Mutated organisms," he breathed, and Clara's eyes widened, "Humans, animals, aliens maybe. He's gotten them all and changed their genetic structure."
The crashing continued until it passed the door, a series of moans and growls following in its wake.
"And the guinea pigs are angry."
Clara heard a rustling from one of the corners in the room, and almost screamed.
"Hello?" The Doctor whispered.
More rustling, as though the thing were adjusting itself.
And then a voice came, "Mr. Smith?"
A figure emerged, only the faintest outline in the darkness.
A green glow and a faint buzz came from where she would expect the hands of someone small to be.
"Laurie," she asked, "Is it you?
"Yes," his voice said, "Thank God you're still alive."
She felt the Doctor's body move away from her, leaving her cold.
"Is that my sonic," the Doctor asked.
"Your device yes," the boy said, his voice still not above a whisper, "I took it from my father's study because I knew he would only use it to do more bad things."
"Can I have it back please," the Doctor asked and then she heard him exclaim in pain.
"That wasn't nice," she said, not very sure what exactly had happened only that the Doctor was now jumping about very noisily.
The boy spoke again, "I will give it to you if you promise me one thing... Please..."
Perhaps it was his tone, so sad and tired that made the Doctor stop his hopping and actually listen.
The boy exhaled, "When you escape... I want you to take me with you."
Before Clara or the Doctor could respond, there was another crash, and this time the shot of a gun.
The door opened, and Laurie tossed the Doctor his sonic, his request still very much in the air..
How her giraffe limbed old man managed to catch the damn thing in near darkness she didn't know, but he did, and pointed it at the door like if it were a sword.
"Clara? Doctor? It's us... Oswin and Matthew... We need to get out of here."
Another scream, this one long and drawn out. Sobbing accompanied it, followed by a sick squelching sound.
Oswin seemed to be fighting not to vomit, "Correction: We need to get out of here now."
A/N: Wow! Seventy! That's far more than I ever anticipated for this story thank you all so much, and I'm sorry for the lateness.