The ship wasn't large and it had barely begun it's tour of the galaxy before the Doctor found it. He scanned for life forms, trying to discern if there were any 'patients' on board, but – like many of the others he'd located – it sat empty of them. They were trying to be discrete, he knew, because somewhere along the way, they'd all discovered he'd escaped and they'd all learned who he truly was.

They picked up the poor souls, they conducted their experiments with a hastened curiosity, and then they'd dumped the bodies, or the terrified victims, onto random planets. And that's how he tracked them. With stories of horrors he knew all too well. He landed the Tardis inside the bowels of the ship and he strutted casually through the halls, whistling a lullaby and giving his Sonic a flip in his palm until he was faced with a row of them, their guns primed.

"Oh, hello," he offered brightly, straightening and tilting his head slightly as he sent a burst of Sonic energy towards them to disarm their guns. They turned to run and he scoffed, "Really no fun when the tables are turned, eh?"

He could hear them rambling, and then the alarms sounded. But he slid towards a computer panel in the wall and he typed with a small smile, disabling the escape pods and locking down all doors. Trapping them where they stood – their only method of escape now sitting comfortably back in his inside breast pocket. He moved slowly now, towards the engine room and he examined the make and model, calculating the energy it might take to explode in a fraction of a second before lifting his hands to crack his knuckles.

He tapped on a microphone, flipping a switch and hearing the squeal of feedback before he laughed darkly into the small knob at the edge of the wire. "Good afternoon, this is the Doctor speaking." He typed quickly and raised a finger, "I take it you've heard I'm a bit cross with your kind – not your species, as mostly you're harmless and hope only to help those less fortunate – but your particular kind. And I'm not generally one to resort to violence, as it's counterproductive to progress, but you tried to take something from me. Something very precious to me."

The screen in front of him flickered, a transmission from somewhere in the ship, and he stared at the notice a moment, finishing the commands necessary to ignite the engines before touching the screen and watching the eyes that stared back at him. The face in front of him that pleaded for mercy. It begged him to stop, to allow them to bargain for their lives, to give them a chance to change. Clenching his jaw, he stared at it, at the others behind it and he felt the rage building within him.

"Clara never got an option," he growled.

The Doctor started the countdown and slowly made his way back to the Tardis.

Clara was complaining in her sleep, something mumbled he couldn't understand and he glanced into the crib at Lily, lying on her back, head turned slightly, at peace. Sighing with relief, he knew that at least they didn't share nightmares and he sat at the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the top of Clara's head and feeling the feverish skin of her brow with a frown of concern.

"No, don't," she muttered clearly and she flinched against his touch.

Slipping off the bed, he fell to his knees beside her, finding her hand to hold as he called softly, "Clara, Clara it's fine, you're safe."

"No," she moaned as her lips curled slightly in disgust.

Suddenly she released a gasp, eyes flashing open and she gave a quick shout, scrambling in the bed away from him, back slamming into the wall before she recognized that it was him. Clara's hand came up to her chest and Lily began to cry in her crib. The Doctor shifted as Clara made her way back across the bed and lifted the girl up against her, bouncing her slightly until she went silent in her arms and she peered down at her with a sniffle he sadly recognized.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked him quietly, not turning when he stood and came to her side to look down at Lily, now at ease.

He released a long sigh and explained, "You'd fallen asleep."

Clara shifted, meeting his eyes with the smallest hint of a smile as she teased, "Are you guarding me?"

He thought to say he always would, but if it were true… he'd failed. Horribly. And the sadness registered with Clara, who settled the baby back into her crib, covering her, and gestured out to the hallway with a nod the Doctor mirrored. They went to the couch, sitting uncomfortably next to one another and Clara rubbed at her face, brushing her hands through her hair before looking at the Doctor seated next to her.

He'd removed the purple coat, leaving it hanging at the back of one of the chairs in the dining space, and he was picking at nothing on his knee, head tilted away from her so she couldn't see his eyes. Because he knew she could read his eyes as easily as she could read a book and sometimes he hated that they betrayed his secrecy. Clara shook her head and stood, gaining his attention.

"Tea." She told him, "Want?"

"Yes," he nodded, "That would be lovely."

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the counter as she filled a kettle and sat it atop the stove, waiting in silence as the water boiled and she prepared two mugs for them, returning to the couch to find him holding one of Lily's toys in his hands. He was examining it before setting it back down on the floor to take the mug she offered, watching her as she took a long sip, grimacing at the burn of it going down her throat.

"You said you wanted to talk," she offered.

He held his mug tightly and nodded, "About Lily."

For a moment she felt a surge of panic rising in her and she shifted on the cushion, setting her mug down on the coffee table in front of her and asking, "Why, is something wrong? Is she ok?" She started to stand, but he caught her hand, holding her in place with a smile.

"She's fine, Clara," he assured. "I wanted to talk about us."

"Us?" Clara repeated, "Do you want to talk about us, or do you want to talk about Lily?"

He shook his head, "Isn't it all the same?"

Looking away a moment, Clara shot, "No, it's not all the same." And she watched the words slap him before she elaborated as delicately as she could, "Doctor, there's me and Lily, and there's you and Lily. There is no us."

His bottom lip pressed tightly into the top one as he released her and nodded slowly. "No us," he uttered.

With a sigh of frustration, Clara sat. "I'm not eschewing you from our lives, Doctor – you're her father and I want you to be there for her."

Glancing up at her, he raised a hand and dropped it on his knee with a laugh, "You're just eschewing me from your life."

Hand coming to her head, she looked away. She'd thought about this conversation for months, but somehow she thought they'd never have it. Clara imagined he'd just show up randomly, blinking in and out of their lives and it would just become the new normal. She never thought he'd have come to sort out the details of his visitations and she looked up at him, at the tortured expression he wore. As if her silence had scorned him more than those creatures could have with all of their instruments and experiments and she shifted away from him slowly.

"No," she started weakly, "No, I just…" Clara squeezed her hands together, staring down at them to admit, "I don't know what we ever were, really, and I have no idea what having Lily means for us." She raised her eyes to meet his, "Lily is our daughter, but, we didn't," her voice left her and she paused to try and regain it to clarify, "We didn't make her."

"That makes her no less our child," he told her. "No less loved as our daughter."

With a nod, she supplied, "I know – I know, Doctor." Clara considered him, but she turned away from his eyes because they were so terribly hurt, "We were friends. Really good friends." The words got caught in her throat because they were a lie and she knew it – they were so much more than friends. Or at least she'd thought they could be, at some point. "We can still be," she suggested hopefully.

"Yes," he allowed simply.

"What?" Clara asked.

He glanced up with a shake of his head.

"You say yes, but your body – your voice – it says no."

The Doctor smiled weakly and he shifted, sitting up and turning to her, "Can we still be friends? After everything that happened on that ship? After everything I did to you…"

"You were trying to save us," she interrupted.

Nodding, he ducked his head slightly and said curtly, "You say the words, Clara, but you don't believe them." He smiled, raising his head, "Your body; your voice – they say you don't."

She stared fiercely now and hissed, "Don't you turn my wor…"

"Turn your words on you, Clara?" He completed. "I need you to be angry at me; I need you to tell me how you feel and tell me the truth."

"The truth is irrelevant," Clara said, taking a swipe at the space underneath her right eye before standing and muttering, "What is it that you want, Doctor?"

He raised himself off the couch, but remained at a distance, watching her pick at her fingers, "Have you been thoroughly examined."

She turned away, lips held tightly together.

Releasing a small exhale of disappointment, he then asked, "Has she?"

"She's fine," Clara assured. "Aside from two hearts, she's perfectly ordinary."

"You know that's not true."

"Her system's a bit more complex. She's advanced, mentally – can solve problems ordinary babies can't." She laughed slightly, shakily, and told him in nervous amusement, "And she tries to fool you, but she can say a lot more than she lets on."

Rubbing his forehead, he held a hand out and explained, "She'll probably be about the same physically; mentally, she'll…"

"I understand that she'll be different, Doctor." Clara gripped her waist at either side and turned away from him before jerking back to face him, "She'll be your daughter; I'm prepared for that."

He took in the defensive position she remained in and he shook his head, "What is it?"

"What is what?"

"This awkward silence; this uncomfortable conversation," he began with a nod, "What is it?"

"You," Clara spat. "So unapologetic, so clinical, so much a doctor."

"Clara, I am…"

"No," she shook her head, "You're not the man I travelled with. That man left when you started making bargains with those aliens. When you started deciding how my life should be handled. How Lily's would be."

"Cla…"

"You're not the Doctor!" She shouted, bowing her head slightly before lifting a limp hand to point at the door and then locking her eyes on his, "And whoever this is, I don't want him."