Hi everyone!
Welcome to Chapter 35!

First off, I would like to apologise for the late posting but I have a really good reason! I was busy putting the finishing touches on this chapter last night. As you can see, Shackled has a new cover! This was designed by the absolutely AMAZING Ashes in White Hands. Here's a link to this truly fantastic artist's deviantArt page (just remove the spaces where necessary) : ashesinwhitehands . deviantart . c o m
This lady really has a stunning gallery and I absolutely adore her interpretation of Michael! Thank you so, so much, Ashes!

Secondly, please take a gander at the Author's Note at the end of this chapter. It's quite an important one!

Please, enjoy!

Clara pressed her ear to the door of the TARDIS, frowning when she could no longer hear the Doctor's echoing footsteps. He appeared to have turned to vapour in the last few minutes; not a single stir emitted from the stark.
She let out a shaky sigh. "I'm starting to get really sick of this Weeping Angel malarkey."
She turned her back to the door, folding her arms and letting her head rest back against the wood. "What's their problem, anyway? I mean why do they have to-?"

Her voice was instantly stilted by an onslaught of soft scratching, emitting from the other side of the door behind her. She jolted away from the door as if it was electrocuted, staring at the white panelling.

Silence.

Biting back her own breath for a moment, she waited for the scratching to begin again.
Sure enough, after the passing of a few anxious seconds, the odd sound repeated itself.
Again.
And again.

It was sporadic, Clara noticed, with different intervals between each set of scratches. Definitely not something mechanical. Definitely alive.
The more it happened, the more she found herself crouching downward, realising that it was coming from the base of the door rather the centre.

She almost called out in question to ask if it was the Doctor but realised very quickly that this was impossible. Had it been the Doctor, after all, he would have at least knocked.
He wouldn't have needed to knock, would he?

"But what if he couldn't knock or walk in the door?"
The sudden frightening thought occurred to her and hesitantly, she attempted to peer out the through the crevice whether the hinge met the frame.
All she could see was blackness that encircled the TARDIS from their point of landing.

"Doctor?" she asked quietly.
The scratching stopped and was followed by complete quiet again.
Clara counted to ten in her head.
Then she counted to twenty.
Then thirty.
Then sixty.

Nothing.

She took a step back, chewing her lower lip for a moment as she reassessed the situation.
The Doctor had told her to use the CD if "anything got bad" but she didn't want to overreact or to dismiss the possibility that it was the Doctor himself outside the TARDIS, subdued with Abbie and desperately trying to make contact with her.

"What would you do, you daft old alien?" she muttered under her breath, turning back to the TARDIS console and suddenly finding herself confronted with a kind of inspiration. Coaxing herself to place one foot after the other, Clara slowly made her way towards the centre deck, raising her hands cautiously as if approaching a particularly temperamental house cat. "Ok, I know that you can do some kind of scan thing…like an exterior check…I've seen you do it before…"

She surveyed the various buttons at her fingertips, trying desperately to recall what the Doctor's usual movements across the key panel. "Ok…sometimes he…starts by moving this knob here…"

The button panel suddenly lit up with a flash and made an unsettlingly loud clanking noise, small sparks emitting from the crevice of a nearby lever.
"Ok, no, no, no! Not that knob. Definitely not that knob."

"Identfied: Clara Oswald. Do not touch that area."

Clara swivelled on the spot, her eyes widening at the sight of a small, red-haired girl standing directly her. Clad in only a white nightgown, the little girl stared up at her with a rather blank expression.

"Clara Oswald," the child repeated. "Do not touch that area."

"Wh-who are you?!" the woman spluttered, falling back slightly against the TARDIS console with widened eyes. Her heart just about split at the seams when she realised that she could see the outer walls of the time machine were visible through the little girl's skin: she was transparent.

"I am the TARDIS' holographic interface."

Clara placed a hand over her chest, steadying herself and feeling a trifle dim for having jumped to the premature assumption that the kid was some kind of spectre. "Ah…you're a hologram…wait a minute, you've never done that before. The Doctor doesn't use a hologram to interface with the TARDIS."

"The hologram is projected to aid the process of communication. This hologram is automatically activated if the TARDIS detects that the Doctor is incapacitated, unable to reach the controls or if an incompetent user is detected…"

Incompetent user?
Clara frowned deeply, massaging the bridge of her nose.
The Doctor's dearest and nearest lady in blue could never quite resist a chance to take some kind of shot in her.

"Why do you look like a little girl?"

"This is simply the last form that the interface was instructed to take. The TARDIS data base has a wealth of images and data compiled on those who have interacted with the Doctor. This interface can select any of these images for ease of communication."

"…ok, so you could be something else besides a little girl?"

"Is that a request?"

"…I…suppose so?"

Clara watched as the little girl disappeared and was replaced by a young woman with blonde hair, jeans and a zipper hoodie. She tilted her head, feeling as though she should recognise the woman from somewhere but unable to place it.

"Who's that?"

"This is Rose Tyler."

Clara shook her head. "I don't know a Rose Tyler. Could…uh… you pick a form a bit more familiar to me?

Rose Tyler was vanished and replaced by an image of Clara herself, prompting the real life article to flinch a little bit. "No, no…that's way too weird. Can't talk to myself."

This time when the hologram disappeared, it reformed as a woman with bushels of brassy golden hair, bright eyes and a distinctly recognisable visage. "You…you're River Song, now."

"I am not Professor River Song. I am the TARDIS' holographic interface."

"I know that, I was just saying…oh, forget it," Clara brushed aside the matter, faintly irritated in lieu of the situation. "This form'll do fine. Now, I need you to tr-…"

Suddenly the lights above the console began to flicker, turning on and off in bizarre rhythmic pulses.

"The TARDIS appears to have sustained an attempted breach from the outside," the hologram River proclaimed in monotone. "You should have run a scan."

"I wanted to run a scan!" Clara insisted irritably, clinging to the console as the TARDIS suddenly jolted itself. "Gah!" She immediately plunged her hand into the pocket of her cardigan, all but tearing out the CD from its place of safety. "This! I need to use this now! The Doctor said to use this! Where's the yellowy, clicky thing!?"

"The presence of an authorised control disc has been noted. This cannot be used while the TARDIS' defence system is disabled."

"What?! I can't use it?!"
The TARDIS jostled for a second time, disrupting the glower that she was throwing the holographic River. "Alright…what do you propose I do?"

"Enable the defence system."

"And how am I supposed to do that?!"

"Defence systems are activated via a spoken password."

"I don't know the password! The Doctor didn't tell me!"

"Then I cannot do anything to help you."

"Ugh! Why are things never straightforward when they involve you?" Clara raked her fingers through her hair before instantly returning her grip to the console as the TARDIS shook again. "Ok, ok…is the password…uh…Doctor?"

"Incorrect."

"TARDIS? Time Lord? Screwdriver?"

"Incorrect."

"Uh…Gallifrey?"

"Incorrect."

"I don't know! Uh…Geronimo?"

"Incorrect."

"…fez?"

"Incorrect."

Clara's knuckles paled on the railings as she clung to the sides of the TARDIS console, the lights dropping and the ground rattling beneath her feet. "I…I don't know the password!"

"You have failed to retrieve the password seven times. As a recognised companion of the Doctor, you are entitled to a prompt. Would you like to use your prompt?"

"Yes! Yes! Give me the prompt!"

"The password is the name of a variety of earth confectionary."

"Earth confectionary?" Clara would have laughed if she hadn't been in such a mounting state of panic. "That could be anything!"

"I do not recognise "anything" as a variety of earth confectionary."

"…how am I supposed to-?"
The scratching suddenly returned, louder this time and coming from more than one wall of the TARDIS. It seemed eerily coincide with each pulse of the lights and each tremor in the floor, interweaving with the other ominous sounds in a set of disjointed polyphonic tunes.
"Ok! Ok! Uh…cupcakes! Dairy milk! Caramel! Twirl! Twix! Penguin! Lollipop! Wine gums! Bon bons! Werther's Originals! Dib Dab! Liquorice Allsorts! Jellybeans-!"

"Password recognised. Defence system enabled."

A bright yellow light spread from the centre of the TARDIS console, moving downward and outward throughout the floors. The shaking abruptly stopped, gradually followed by the scratching.
Clara placed a hand over her chest, trying to still her breathing. "Jellybeans? Really?"

"Defence system detects no external threat. Danger has been temporarily neutralised."

"Well…that's good," the young woman murmured, turning her attention to the very realistic hologram and shuddering slightly as its eyes followed her. "Blimey…you're spot on. Aside from the occasional flicker, I wouldn't know the difference between you and the real River Song."

"The interface has a bank of data compiled on all of those who have occupied the TARDIS including relevant and updated visual, auditory and historical information," the pseudo professor stated, her torso remaining rigidly forward and her head turning to face Clara where she stood.

"Huh, well that's interesting information. God, I wonder how you must think I sound?" Sitting up on the side railing slightly, Clara tilted her head, a thought suddenly dawning on her. "Wait a minute. On everyone? That means…you know about River Song? The woman you look like right now?"

"Yes. The TARDIS has a data file regarding Professor River Song. Would you like to access this file through verbal interface?"

Clara wrinkled her brow, in the brief grip of a mental tryst.
Of course, the last thing that she (really) wanted to do was to invade the Doctor's privacy and she certainly was willing to accept that if there was anything that she truly needed to know for her own good, the Time Lord would (eventually) tell her.
However, the Doctor's secrecy around he and River's history (and/or future) had piqued her interest. Usually when the Doctor introduced her to a friend of his, he was never shy about giving information- sometimes too much information.

But whenever Clara brought up River, he clipped the conversation almost before it had a chance to flourish even slightly.
When River was actually around, the Doctor seemed to almost guard their exchanges- ensuring that they were never left alone for too long and that he was always aware of what their little talks were about.

True, she wanted to believe that the Doctor would only keep information from her if it were completely necessary.
In spite of this, thinking back over the entire experience with Cassidy Albright- the Doctor had left a painful amount of information to the side regarding what he knew of the young woman's eventual fate and despite his assured honesty, she still couldn't help but feel as if though there was still something she was missing.

She took a cautious step towards the slightly fading hologram and cleared her throat before asking: "What do you know about River Song? Like who is she?"

"Professor River Song," the interface replied in the same firm monotone as always. "Is the alias of Melody Pond. Melody Pond is the only daughter of Amy and Rory Williams Pond. She is a professor of archaeology and a current inmate at Storm Cage Prison for crimes of arson, theft, attempts to interfere with justice, vandalism, hi-jacking and murder. She was born with a combination of human and time lord DNA due to having been conceived in an active time vortex…"

Clara took a moment to internalise all of this information, nodding slowly. "So…she's part Time Lord…alright...and she's the daughter of the Doctor's friends…from the future, presumably. That's how the Doctor knows her?"

What the Interface said next was something that Clara could not possibly have forseen, neither in her most logical of thought nor her wildest of daydreams.
"River Song is the woman who married the Doctor."

Something beneath Clara's knees became slightly weak, her throat becoming a little dry as she surveyed the recreation of the woman that stood before her. This new piece of information was enough to quite literally change the way she was willing to look at River Song. The idea had flitted humorously through her mind before but she never would have for a second believed that it was true. "River Song…is the Doctor's wife?"

"Yes. River Song, by Time Lord law, is the wife of the Doctor."

Before Clara could even begin to process this fact properly or to offer a response of any kind, the hologram suddenly vanished into thin air and the lights in the TARDIS began to drop once more.

"Wh-what's happening?! Hey…hey, Interface River? Come back! Where did you go?"

The disembodied voice of the Professor responded to her, occasionally making erratic spikes in volume or being cut off slightly by static. "The TARDIS is having its power drained. Emergency procedures must be taken to restore power."

"Emerg-?" Clara pulled forth the CD sleeve. "Aha! I have to use this now! Where's the yellowy, clicky thing?"

"The presence of an authorised control disc has been noted. This item cannot be used. There is not sufficient power. Emergency power buffers must be activated to prevent the TARDIS from losing further power."

"Ok, so what? Another password?"

"The power buffers must be activated manually via a switch in the emergency station in the outer cabinet of the TARDIS."

"In the outer cab-?" Clara's eyes widened with realisation. "Where the telephone is? I'd have to go outside while the TARDIS is somehow being attacked? Correct me if I'm wrong but stepping outside and leaving this place open for an intruder doesn't seem the wisest of ideas to me!"

The voice simply responded by saying: "There is no superior or more logical option. The only alternative would be to wait here until power has completely been drained from the TARDIS."

Clara rolled her eyes, her jaw quivering slightly with the mixed after-effects of worry and annoyance as she grabbed her coat from the polished rack. "Y'know, you're pretty rigid when it comes to having a plan! It's a small wonder that the Doctor's so bloody good at improvising…"

On mildly shaking legs, she ran over to the door and grasped the handle.
"Just like tearing off a plaster. Nice and quick. Let's go."
She tugged the door open in one sharp movement and slipped outside. The darkness engulfed the area surrounding the TARDIS so Clara was more than thankful for her torch.

With trembling arms, she raised a spotlight on one of the TARDIS' polished panels. She unlatched the compartment and looked inside, all the while muttering under her breath: "Emergency switch…emergency switch…emergency switch…"

It wasn't the darkness around her that stirred and stoked her fear, Clara realised very quickly. What was slowly tearing her wits asunder was the grating realisation that she had no idea what to expect might be out in that darkness, right at her back, ready to pounce.

She had no idea where the Doctor or Abbie were.
She had no idea how many Angels were out there.
She had no idea how close they were to the TARDIS.
She didn't even know for certain that it was Angels that she was dealing with.

Clara's shuddering fingers soon found the switch in question- thankfully marked quite well and easy to move. As soon as she had completed the task she immediately shut the panel and leapt for the door handle.
But the door wouldn't budge.

She tried it again, pulling harder, her heart in her throat.
"No. Don't do this. Come on…"
Clara could see her own breath, rising in a silvery, stilted cloud slowly rising into the glow of her torch. She fiercely tugged the handle, continuing to do so until her hand ached.

Then the scratching began again.
Nearby too.

Clara swivelled around on the spot, slowly casting her torch out into the dark- knowing that she needed to catch sight of her potential attacker before it came near her but still absolutely dreading what the beam might possibly reveal.

"Missus Clara!"
Somewhere in the dark towards her right hand side, Clara could hear Abbie's voice.

"Abbie! Is that you?" Clara tried to shine out her torch but she couldn't quite make out the figure of the little girl. "Abbie! Follow the light of the torch! Come over here! Where's the Doctor?"

"The Doctor is all hurt! He can't walk! He needs you to come to him! Come on! Follow me!"

The child sounded so overwrought with fear and tearful that the woman was prepared to abandon all of her own anxiety and logic and was about to let go of the door of the TARDIS to bolt in Abbie's direction.

Then towards her left and side, Abbie's voice called out again.
Clara turned her head, adjusting her torch but still finding nothing.
How could she be hearing Abbie's voice coming from two different sources?

This time, Abigail's voice devoid of even breath and rifled by the aftermath of terrified sobbing.
It was what the little voice said, however, that truly stopped Clara in her tracks and chilled her to her core.

"Don't go after her, Missus Clara. She's lying to you…she's the one who hurt the Doctor."

Ok! So a little break from Cassidy and Michael's storyline but don't worry, it won't be long 'til all of these storylines are interweaving in all their wibbly wobbly timey wimey glory.
Ariel's got her secret motives. Nathaniel has his ambitions. Althea has her duty. Karida has her honour to uphold. The Doctor has a plan (maybe). Clara has her willpower. Abbie has her faith in her new friends.

Michael has his place in the tribe to restore…and a certain truth to confront.
Cassidy has a truth to confront too…and she's going to need all her courage to do it!

The chapters from now on are going to be a little shorter to allow me to post faster even though I'm working as it doesn't feel fair to keep you guys waiting when you're always so nice to me!

Again, thank you all so, so, so much!