Searching the Stars

by LizzeXX

12/OC -Time Lady- The Doctor and Mac, the Doctor's Chosen, have survived Trenzalore, and now there's a new Doctor rushing about. On top of that, Clara has officially become Mac's Companion, something she's never had before. As the Promise Land looms in the distance, overseen by the mysterious Missy, how will the Time Lords handle all that's to come? Sixth in the Time Lady Memoirs.

5. Time Heist

A/N: Warning: in the section where the others are trying to lead the Teller away to give Psi more time before the vault opens, there will be many mentions of moments of guilt, including loss of pregnancy/miscarriage.

~8~

Time Heist

Mac rolled her eyes as she shook her head, hearing the Doctor jabbering on from Clara's kitchen, more like complaining, while she and Clara stood in the girl's bedroom. Clara was holding up two jackets in front of her, trying to decide which one went best with her outfit and had asked Mac there to help. Apparently her 'dates' with her mystery man were getting quite serious and she was trying to dress up a bit more. It meant a lot to Mac that she had called her over to help get ready. It felt like this was a sort of middle step for Clara, between telling them she was dating and actually introducing them to the man, because he might stop by to pick Clara up and they could catch a glimpse.

She and the Doctor had both been very careful not to pry (as much as she personally was dying to) into Clara's personal life, so they hadn't used the TARDIS to snoop or set it on invisible to watch her on her dates. It had been why they'd set down in the kitchen of the restaurant with Orson, not wanting to intrude on her time with her date.

But she was eager and excited and anxious to finally meet the man who had Clara so flustered as to worry about her outfit choice the way she was.

"The Satanic Nebula!" the Doctor was shouting.

"Sounds prettier than it is," Mac murmured to Clara, gesturing for her to hold up the other jacket, a darker one compared to the red one for a pop of color.

"Or…the lagoon of lost stars..."

"Boring."

"Or we could go...to Brighton!"

"Brighton?" Clara scoffed, more at the Doctor than at Mac who had given her a thumbs up for the darker jacket.

"I've got a whole day worked out!" the Doctor spoke, moving to the doorway, having gotten the call from Mac in his mind that Clara was now 'decent' and not still changing or in danger of changing her outfit, again, for the fourth time.

"Sorry," Clara sighed, turning so Mac could help her into her jacket, "But as you can see, I've got plans."

"Have you?"

"I told you we had to pop round so I could help Clara get ready for her date, dear," Mac reminded him.

"Oh," the Doctor nodded slowly, "Is that why her face is all colored in?" he eyed Clara more as she moved to her vanity to put something on her lips, "Are you taller?"

"Heels," Clara popped her leg back to show him her shoes.

"What, do you have to reach a high shelf?"

"Her pants are a bit long," Mac told him, moving to his side and winding an arm around his middle, "Heels make it so they don't drag. And they can help emphasize a woman's assets," she added.

"What assets?" the Doctor frowned.

"Seriously?" Clara snorted, turning to them, "Has Mac never worn heels around you?"

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, "But none of her assets need emphasizing, they're all noticed and very appreciated."

Clara smiled at that, "Sweet," before she glanced down at her wrist, at her watch, "Right, got to go. Going to be late."

"So he's not picking you up?" Mac called as Clara moved past them into the hall.

Clara laughed, "Is that why you came running?" she asked Mac, not stopping as she headed on to her sitting room where the TARDIS was set up, "Hoping for a peek?"

"Hoping for more than a peek," Mac followed her, "Introduction would be lovely."

"It'll happen," Clara turned to them, picking up her mobile and clutch, "I promise," she assured the woman, "It's just sort of hard to find a way or time to introduce your boyfriend to your alien tour guides."

"Alien tour guides?" the Doctor scoffed at the description.

"Sounds better than enablers," Clara defended, heading for the door, only just managing to touch the knob before the TARDIS phone began to ring, causing her to pause. Because that was very much not normal. In all the time she'd travelled with them, she'd only ever heard the phone ring a handful of times and when it did…it was never for a chat or one of those telemarketers.

"Oh dear," Mac murmured, staring at the TARDIS with wide eyes. She'd given UNIT the number to the box, and an additional code to put in so that a specific ringtone would go off alerting her that it was UNIT calling for her assistance. That was not the tone.

"Hardly anyone in the universe has that number," the Doctor agreed, frowning so deeply at the box that his eyebrows touched.

"Well, I'VE got it," Clara tried to suggest, it could be one of the other Companions or something…but then that would probably make it worse because, for them to call after all this time apart…it would be something very, very bad happening.

"Yes, from some woman in a shop," the Doctor nodded, "We STILL don't know who that was."

"You don't think it's her?" Mac wondered, eyeing the panel on the front of the door, "Why give it to Clara if she could call herself?"

"There are very few people that it could be," he agreed with both of them, before stepping forward to open the panel, Clara stepping away from the door and over to Mac's side, all too aware that it COULD actually be a companion in danger and not about to let them go off without her. She'd been there, she wouldn't leave another in that situation.

The Doctor glanced over at Mac, who was wringing her hands, before het turned and answered the phone…

~8~

"Oh my god!" Mac gasped, flinging the thing in her hand onto the table she now found herself sitting at, the Doctor giving a shout himself though he held onto the wriggling thing, while Clara followed suit, screaming and tossing it away. It was a Memory Worm, and they'd been just sitting there holding it.

She turned to look at Clara, to make sure she was alright, when she noticed there were two other people at the table with them, a man with a circuit on the side of his head and a black woman whose face seemed to be stretching and puffed until she dropped the worm and it it returned to normal. The room itself was nothing of note, like a disused warehouse, with crates and others tarps around. The only light to be seen was the lamp above them, illuminating the table and a silver suitcase resting on top of it.

"Clara," Mac took a breath and looked at her, "You alright?"

"Um…I think?" Clara grimaced at the sight of the worms, "We were touching that…"

"I'm fine too, dear, thanks," the Doctor deadpanned, though he was already in the process of poking one of the worms with a pen.

"I know you are dear," Mac shot right back, the benefits of being mentally connected to his thoughts.

"Where are we?" Clara continued to ask, "How did we get here?"

"I don't know," Mac sighed, "But I'm guessing I wasn't happy about it," she added in a grumble, the fact that Clara had gotten dragged into this when she likely knew it had bee some sort of robbery or illegal activity...she would never have been happy with that.

"Who are you?" the man across from them demanded as well, before wincing, "Sorry, what's going on? I don't understand."

"What is that thing?" the woman shuddered, eyeing the worms.

"It's called a Memory Worm," Mac told them, "It can be used to erase the most recent memories from your mind," she eyed the two, "Are you both alright?" she asked, sometimes the Memory Worm could be a bit much to handle.

The woman took a breath, not answering but asking, "How did I get here?"

"The same way we all did, but we've all forgotten," the Doctor answered.

"And who are you?"

Mac opened her mouth to introduce them when the Doctor's voice began to play over a recording, sounding like it was coming from the case, "I am the Doctor, a Time Lord from Gallifrey. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

"And I am Special Agent Mackenzie of UNIT, also a Time Lady from Gallifrey, and I have agreed to the memory wipe of my free will."

"I am Clara Oswald, human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will. Do I really have to touch that worm thing?"

"Unfortunately," Mac's voice whispered to her, "But at least it's not a spider."

"And change your shoes," the Doctor's added, "You're next, Psi."

"I am Psi," a man spoke, who could only be the other one across from them, who was, even now, reaching up to a chip in his head, likely a memory drive, and checking it for recent deletions, "Augmented human. I have agreed to this...memory wipe of my own free will."

"I am Saibra," the other woman's voice added, "Mutant human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will."

There was a hissing noise as a light on the suitcase blinked green and it began to open, a monitor rising from within to display a fancy looking 'K' before it faded to a person in a hood, sitting in a dark room so that only the outline of the hood could barely be seen.

"This is a recorded message," it spoke, the voice likely a man, but it was distorted and so they couldn't be sure, "I am the Architect."

"The Architect?" Mac mouthed to the Doctor who could only shake his head, equally as confused and worried. They didn't think it was a Time Lord, but someone was certainly keen for dramatics.

"Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency," it continued, "Me. Everything since has been erased from your minds. Now, pay close attention to this briefing," the image faded to a planet, "This is the Bank of Karabraxos, the most secure bank in the galaxy," which then zoomed in to a very large, pyramid-styled building that looked quite like a triangular fortress, "A fortress for the super-rich. If you can afford your own star system, this is where you keep it," it shifted to what almost seemed to be an advert for the bank, displaying all the vaults and safeguards used to keep it secure, "No one sets foot on the planet without protocols. All movement is monitored, all air consumption regulated. DNA is authenticated at every stage," it flittered to the actual patrons entering a room to access the items in their vault, "Intruders will be incinerated. Each vault, buried deep in the earth, is accessed by a drop-slot at the planet's surface. It's atomically sealed, an unbreakable lock. The atoms have all been scrambled. Your presence on this planet is unauthorized. A team will have been dispatched to terminate you."

"Oh dear," Mac breathed out as the video finished, returning to the 'Architect' a single second before a loud banging sounded on the door behind them at the end of the room.

"This is bank security!" a voice called through the door, "Open up!"

"Oh dear, dear, dear."

"Your survival depends on following my instructions," the Architect continued.

"Open up and you shall be humanely disposed of!" the guard warned, and they all jumped to their feet.

"Look," Saibra pointed out, "There's another exit!"

"All the information you need is in this case…" the Architect went on.

Psi reached out and connected a wire to his head and then to a slot in the side of the monitor, jerking slightly.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked as he and Mac quickly pulled out whatever they could find in the case.

"Downloading," Psi told him.

"Augmented," Mac reminded him, "Cybernetic."

"Nice," the Doctor nodded.

"The Bank of Karabraxos is impregnable…" the computer flickering when Psi pulled the cable out, done downloading.

"Please stand away from the door!" the guards called, "We do not wish to hurt you before incineration."

"Come on," Mac reached out to push Clara towards the back door where Saibra was already waiting, "Go."

"The Bank of Karabraxos has never been breached," the Architect finished, the Time Lords barely able to hear him as they ran out the door, "You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos!"

~8~

The small group of would-be bank robbers raced down one of the halls of the Bank, not too sure where exactly they were or where they were heading, but needing to get as far away from that back room as they could. The Doctor led the way, twisting and turning down various halls and around other corners, trying to lose any guard that might have come after them.

"Ok," he called out, slowing down, "Ok, ok, stop!" he added when Psi and Saibra kept running, "Stop, stop," he panted when they came back over.

"Far enough?" Mac herself as a little out of breath, too.

"Far enough," he nodded.

Mac looked over at Clara, wanting to make sure she was doing alright, earning a nod from her before she looked at Saibra and Psi, "Was I right?" she asked the man, "Augmented human, cybernetic?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Main-frame in your head or external?"

"I'm a gamer," he said, as though it answered the question, and it could have. Gamers dedicated more time and resources to that than anything, they would want to make sure all their data was right where they always had access to it, in their own minds, than to risk losing their external hard drives. But both Time Lords knew that wasn't what he actually was, "Sorry, who put YOU in charge?"

"You're a liar," the Doctor cut in, gesturing at Psi, "That's a prison code on your neck."

"Hacker?" Mac guessed, they were much like gamers though, not wanting to risk losing their evidence.

"Yeah," Psi shifted, "Slash bank robber."

"Good," the Doctor nodded, "This is a good day to be a bank robber," before glancing at Saibra, "Mutant human. What kind of mutant?"

"Like he says, why are YOU in charge now?" Saibra crossed her arms defensively.

"Were not trying to pry," Mac spoke instead, holding up her hands in a placating motion, "But if Psi was dragged into this for his augmentations, perhaps you were brought in for your specific mutation. Might be handy to know what you can do so we don't have you keeping watch when you might be better off reading minds for codes."

Saibra sighed, before glancing over at Clara and holding out a hand to her, as though to shake it. Clara hesitated, glancing at the Time Lords, before she reached out to take it.

Before their eyes, Saibra morphed so she looked exactly like Clara.

Once she let go of the woman's hand, she slowly shifted back to normal.

"I touch living cells," Saibra simplified, "I can replicate the owner."

"So your face, when we first saw you..." Clara began, having noticed the odd way Saibra had looked until she let go of the worm but hadn't wanted to comment on it or be rude. The Doctor would be rude enough for the three of them.

"Was the worm," Mac confirmed, seeing Saibra getting uncomfortable with that.

"You can replicate their clothes, too?" Clara wondered, changing the topic, noticing that as well.

"I wear a hologram shell," Saibra shrugged.

"Living cells, you say," the Doctor hummed at Saibra's words, before holding up a small rectangular box he'd grabbed from the briefcase, "Human cells. DNA from a customer, maybe? A disguise to get us in?"

Mac nodded slowly, understanding what he meant, "The Architect needed Saibra's help, because she could replicate the customer."

"We're actually going to do it?" Clara looked at them, "Rob the bank?"

"I don't think we have a choice," the Doctor sighed, "We've already agreed to."

"Even if we don't remember it," Mac had to agree, she would be having quite a few very firm words with the Architect about dragging Clara into this when it was over.

The Doctor looked at each of them, the weight of it all settling on them, not just the mess they'd gotten themselves into with no knowledge of how, but the risk they would be taking because they were very sure this WAS the most secure bank in the Universe and they may not succeed. He turned to Saibra and held out the pad for her to take, watching as she touched her finger to the pad where the cells were being held, getting ready…

~8~

"How long can you maintain the image for?" the Doctor spoke quietly to Saibra as they walked through the courtyard of the bank a short while later, the woman now taking on the appearance of an older, rather distinguished-looking, gentleman in a pinstripe suit.

"Probably should have asked that before we stepped out of the hall," Mac murmured to him.

"For as long as I like," Saibra assured them, even her voice mimicking the man whose DNA had been in the box.

Mac moved to Clara's side as they reached the doors to the bank, Psi hurrying to open them for the group, allowing them in to an immense room, with high ceilings and equally high windows. The light that filtered into the room was incredibly bright, making it so there was almost no area of the room in any semblance of darkness. It was an orange-gold glow, making the metal of the room shimmer and shine. There were patrons and employees milling about, directing people and welcoming them, asking questions and waiting their turns.

They did their best to seem like they were meant to be there, that they'd come there thousands of times before as they strode though the room, heading for one of the doors at the back that would lead to access of the vaults.

'Question,' the Doctor's voice spoke in Mac's head, regrettably having to go that method than speak to her out loud, not sure who could be listening, 'This is easy if you've got a TARDIS. So why are we not using it?'

Mac gave him a look like it should be obvious, 'Where IS the TARDIS?' she countered for the reason why. If they didn't know where the TARDIS was, how could they use it.

'Ah.'

They glanced up, slowing in their walk when the lights flickered, panels appearing over the windows while the doors were sealed with armored plates, keeping everyone locked in.

"Banking floor locking down," a computerized voice announced over the tannoy.

"Oh dear," Mac blinked.

"They know we're here," Saibra gasped.

"Banking floor locking down," the system repeated.

"Calm down," Mac murmured to them, trying to keep them calm, "We don't know that," she added, "We need to wait this out."

It wasn't just them who stopped and looked around, so they blended in in that area, everyone trying to work out what was happening.

A moment later a door opened and a woman with light red hair strode in, very professional looking, in a feminine suit and skirt, her hair up tight, glasses perched on her nose. There were two security guards behind her that strode forward and converged on a black, bald man with glasses, holding a briefcase.

Everyone could see the look of panic that grew on his face when the two guards grabbed him to hold him in place.

Another set of guards followed through the doorway, surrounding and leading in some sort of alien, tall, with limbs, grey skin, and eyes that looked like a snail's, in an orange spacesuit. It was bound, shackles on its wrists and ankles, as it was urged on to follow the woman.

"What is that?" Saibra asked, feeling calmer now that they weren't the main focus of this lockdown.

"I don't know," Mac answered, glancing at the Doctor, knowing he'd had more experience on other planes through the universe.

"Hate not knowing," the Doctor added, huffing, he didn't recognize it either.

"Excuse me, sir," the woman leading the charge spoke as she, too, approached the restrained man, "I regret to say that your guilt has been detected."

"What?" the man let out a broken laugh that was a little too clear to all who could hear that he was trying very hard to hide something, "That...that's totally ridiculous."

"Is it, sir? Well, then, we will certainly double-check," she gestured behind her where the alien came to a stop, "The Teller will now scan your thoughts for any criminal intent. Good luck, sir," before she turned to step to the side, allowing the alien to step up.

"Interesting," the Doctor frowned as he watched the man set his case down and face the alien.

"What is?" Psi asked quietly.

"The latest thing in sniffer dogs. Telepathic, it hunts guilt."

Mac winced when a high pitched whine emitted from the alien, its eyes twitching and moving this way and that as the man gave a groan of pain and gripped his head. She glanced to the side when the Doctor rested a hand on the small of her back in as much comfort as he could afford to give her right now.

"What about OUR guilt?" Clara asked.

"Currently being drowned out," the Doctor reassured.

"That poor man," Mac breathed, watching as the man closed his eyes, pressing his hands to his temples and gritting his teeth, seeming like he was truly focused on something.

"What's he doing?" Clara glanced at her.

"You know when there's something you don't want to think about?" Mac looked back at her, "He's trying not to think about whatever set off the guilt detectors."

"So that's why we used the worms," the Doctor murmured, "We don't know what plan we might have known."

"Say that again?" Clara shook her head, but the Doctor shushed her, the alien now letting out a roar and lunging forward towards the man.

"Ah, criminal intent detected," the woman controlling the Teller spoke, stepping closer to the man, "How naughty. What was your plan? Counterfeit currency in your briefcase, perhaps?"

"No," the man stuttered, "Not at all, for God's sake."

"It doesn't really matter, we'll establish the details later. The Teller is never wrong when it comes to guilt. Your account will now be deleted, and obviously your mind. Suppertime!" she smiled at the man and turned to walk back to the side.

The Teller stepped forward, towards the man, even as the guards around him tightened their hold on its chains. The group watched on as the Teller's eyes began to touch, moving together, which seemed to set off a pulse of some sort of energy that struck the man.

He let out a terrible cry of pain, nearly sinking to his knees but the guards at his side hield him up, forcing him to face the Teller as he gripped at his head.

"Wiping his mind," the Doctor realized what was happening, having lightly reached out to the man's mind, just trying to glimpse surface thoughts which he didn't do often, but backed off at the pain the man was feeling, "Turning his brain into soup."

"Your next of kin will be informed," the woman spoke, "And incarcerated, as further inducement to honest financial transactions."

How she was able to speak so calmly while the man was screaming himself raw Mac did not want to know.

"We've got to help him!" Clara gasped, about to try and rush forward but Mac grabbed her arm, shaking her head.

"He's gone already, it's over," the Doctor said.

"He's in agony, look at him!" Clara gestured over at the man, who appeared to be crying though the tears leaking from his eyes were far too dark.

"Those aren't tears, Clara," Mac tried to tell her as gently as she could.

And so the Doctor, of course, tried to 'help' by adding, "That's soup."

"That's his…" Clara's hand flew to her mouth as she realized what was leaking, her skin growing rather green with how ill that made her feel.

Mac could do nothing but rub her back in a feeble attempt at comfort.

Eventually the Teller stopped, releasing the man, who slumped over in between the two guards, a very clear dent in his head as the skull sunk in.

"Account closed," the woman, who had been watching on, unaffected, declared, "Take him away. He's ready for his close-up," she turned as the guards dragged the man away, the other set leading the Teller back, so she could address the other patrons, "Apologies for the disturbance. Everyone have a lovely day."

The group could only watch on, disgusted, as the woman SMILED as she walked out of the lobby, the windows opening, the panels on the doors rising, allowing people to go about their business once more.

She just walked out like a man's brain hadn't been turned to mush in front of her.

"Come on," the Doctor murmured to them, grim and serious, leading them across the bank floor towards the back doors that would lead to the vaults. Seeing what they had, the reality of the danger they were in was all too clear, the sooner they got this completed, the safer they would be. They had to keep ahead of the Teller, before their own guilt grew enough for him to notice.

Mac stood in the doorway to the vault room, keeping the doors open long enough for all of them to get inside before she moved to the Doctor's side where he stood near what looked like a pipe curving out of the wall.

"Deposit booth locking," a computerized voice said as the doors shut behind them, sealing, a safety mechanism to keep others from attacking you while you were obtaining your possessions or money, "Please exhale," another computer said, this time from a speaker by the pipe, "Your valuables will be transported up from the vault."

Saibra stepped up to the pipe, looking at the Doctor and Mac before she leaned forward and breathed into the receptor, straightening and watching as the light on it turned green with acceptance before she allowed herself to turn back into her normal self, "If he can break in here and plant this thing, then why does he need our help?"

"That IS a good question," Mac admitted, nodding, "Perhaps he could only make it so far and needed more help the second go?"

"Also depends what the thing he planted is," the Doctor added, when there was a beeping noise and a box before them opened, allowing another suitcase to slide out to them. Mac stepped forward this time and opened it, frowning when she saw a device resting within, connected to wires and a timer.

"Oh dear," she murmured, leaning forward to examine it.

"Ok, well, I'm no expert," the Doctor eyed it, "But...fuses, timer, I'm going to stick my neck out and say 'bomb.'"

Mac, though, shook her head, "It's not a bomb, not exactly."

"And how would you know?" Saibra eyed her, because it looked very much like a bomb to her.

Mac gave her a sad smile, "I built the weapons on my planet. I know a bomb, and I know the types of bombs," she glanced at Psi, "Psi, could you be a dear and bring up the schematics of the bank, please?"

Psi nodded and pulled a device from his pocket, putting it into the socket in his head to examine the data he'd downloaded from the first suitcase. He turned and opened his eyes, allowing what he was seeing to project onto the nearby wall.

"I thought as much," Mac nodded, glancing at the prints, "The floor below is all service corridors," she reached into the box and pulled out the device, moving to the center of the room and placing it down, starting to attach some of the wires to the floor.

"He wants us to blow through the floor?" Clara guessed.

"We'll die if we do that!" Saibra cried.

"We would if it was a bomb," Mac reminded, "It's not. It won't kill us."

"You can promise that, can you?" Psi scoffed.

"Yes," she said simply.

But he shook his head, "No, no way, I'm not taking the chance. I'm out."

"What do you want, Psi?" the Doctor called when the man turned to storm to the door, buying Mac more time to set up whatever hat was. It DID look like a bomb, but he trusted her. She'd been stuck in the weapons division during the war, she knew her weapons. It was why she stayed more with the simple ways to solve things, having spent so much time and effort and focus building complex weapons, she couldn't stomach them any longer. But that didn't mean she didn't know her weapons when they were in front of her. She saw something in this one he didn't, "More than anything else? Whatever it is, it's IN this bank. You agreed to rob the most impregnable bank in history, you must have had a very good reason. We all must have. Picture the thing you want most in the universe, and decide how badly you want it," he eyed the man, "Well?"

Psi's jaw clenched, but he gave a short nod.

Clara cleared her throat, "If it's not a bomb, then what is it?" she finally asked.

Mac sat back on her heels, looking down at the device, "It's a dimensional shift bomb," she looked up at them as she stood, brushing off her hands, "It'll send the particles of the floor to a different plane temporarily."

"So it removes the floor?" Clara tried to follow.

"Exactly," she nodded, "Everyone back up to the walls," she told them, "I don't know the range of it, but it'll be at least a few feet, don't want to fall down to the next level. Come on, off you go," she made a shooing motion, waiting till they were against the walls before she leaned down to quickly activate the bomb before backing up beside the Doctor against the wall, waiting and watching. A tiny noise went off and then there was a small hole in the floor, square, about three or four feet on each side.

The Doctor chuckled at that, "Brilliant," he gave Mac a wink, before gesturing her on to the ladder that was right at the edge of the hole, urging her to go down first, she was in a dress after all, "Come on, then," he called to the others, "Team Not Dead!"

Clara had followed Mac, Saibra just about to go down when there was a pounding on the door, guards shouting, "Open up!"

"A little faster," the Doctor hissed down at them, urging Psi on before following the man to the ladder, he waited till he was just below the floor before reaching up to deactivate it, pulling his arm down just before the floor reappeared and, judging by the sounds, just a few moments before the guards broke into the room to find it empty.

~8~

"Well, this is just a break-in temptation waiting to happen," Mac remarked as they walked through the service halls of the Bank, they were very large and spacious, with quite a number of places she could see to hide. She couldn't help but think of River then, of children in general, playing hide and seek among the various crates and pipes. She had to look away at the pang that struck her hearts at the thought, yet another thing she hadn't had a chance to do with her children.

"Mac," Clara sighed, "We're breaking into a bank. The Doctor's probably giddy, I'm gonna need you to be the responsible one."

Mac laughed, moving her arm around Clara's shoulder, "Don't worry, Clara, I'll rein him in if he tries to blow anything up."

Clara let out a playful groan at that, because it was a very likely thing to happen given him. She didn't think that would change in any incarnation.

"So, what are we supposed to do now?" Saibra asked, getting anxious, "What's the plan?"

The Doctor shrugged, "Don't know. The Architect set all this up, it should make sense. My personal plan is that a thing will probably happen quite soon."

"So that's it. That's your plan?"

"Yep."

"A thing will happen?"

"A thing...probably."

"Surprisingly," Mac cut in, giving Saibra a comforting smile, "They actually tend to happen more than probably."

"Oh, that's just going to make him worse," Clara huffed, drawing their attention to her, but she sighed and moved forward to pick up the suitcase she'd spotted resting against a nearby pole, turning to hold t up to them.

The Doctor moved over to take it, grinning, "There you go!" he beamed, "Thing time."

"Told you," Mac whispered to Saibra, who did not look impressed, as the Doctor turned and put it on a crate, ready to pop it open.

"How does he get the cases here?" Clara wondered.

"Well," Mac mused, "I would say he broke in before us so that we could break into the bank after. He's leading us to something he couldn't do on his own, I guess."

"How did he do that?" Clara shook her head, "And if he CAN do that, why does he need us? I mean would he REALLY need us, if he could get so far alone?"

"Not our problem," the Doctor remarked.

"What IS our prob-prob-prob-prob..." Psi tried to ask, only to end up stuttering.

"Are you alright, Psi?" Mac turned him.

He shook his head violently to cut off the stutter, taking a breath before he answered, "Drive glitch, it's fine."

"Guilt is our problem," the Doctor answered his question, not seeming perturbed by his glitch or the fact that it could happen again while they were in the middle of breaking in further, "Guilt, in this bank, is fatal. The Teller can hear it. Ever since that first case was opened, we've been targets. The more we know about why we're here, the louder our guilt screams. That's why Mac had us wipe our memories."

Mac blinked at that, "Why do you think I was the one who…"

He gave her a look, "You'd think about that, about our safety, you would be the one to make me promise to do it before we set foot in the bank."

Mac considered it for a moment, before nodding. He would probably be far too keen to see how far he could break in while knowing why he was breaking in. She would have been the one fretting about how to keep them all safe and go for the simplest, fastest, easiest option.

"Now," the Doctor continued, looking around at them, "Once I open this, I can't close it again."

"Would it be safer if only one of us learned it?" Psi asked.

"I'm waiting for you to volunteer."

Psi blinked, "Er, why me?"

"Because you didn't need that memory worm, did you?"

Mac put her hand on the Doctor's arm to cut him off, "You have the ability to delete specific portions of your memory," she reminded the man, "We don't. We would need the memory worm, and even then there's the risk we'd forget too much and fall behind on the plan or trusting each other," she looked at Psi, "It's up to you entirely," she added, "None of us would ever force you to do this."

Psi sighed, "No, it's fine," he muttered, reaching out to turn the case to him, the others moving to the side so they wouldn't be able to see it, before he popped it open and frowned, "I don't know what it is. You may as well have a look," he turned the case for the others to see.

It was full of small cylinders, 7 of them to be exact. The Doctor picked one up, as did Mac, examining them.

"Well," Clara turned to Mac, "What are they?"

"Not a clue," the Doctor answered quickly, cutting Mac off.

"Wasn't asking you, thanks."

"He's lying, too," Saibra added.

"Why would he be lyi-lyi-lyi-lying?" Psi tried to ask, only to glitch and stutter again, "Ugh!" he bent over, gasping, "Sorry. Stress. Drains the batteries."

Mac glanced around, "There," she pointed at a computer panel in the wall, "If you interface with that, would you be able to charge up a bit?"

"Better if I find a plug," Psi grimaced, rubbing his head.

"Do we have time for this?" Saibra asked.

"Why not?" the Doctor shrugged, trying to be easy, trying to keep them from returning to the question of what the devices were. Mac had recognized them, she had been about to reveal what they were, but he'd had a reason to cut in. The less everyone knew the better they'd be, the safer. It was just like Psi said, if one person knew and the others didn't, then the others weren't adding to the guilt, and what those devices were had a significant addition to the guilt, "There's no immediate threat."

"Oh no," Mac sighed, wincing, because, literally 2 seconds later, an alarm sounded.

"Warning," a computerized voice joined the alarm, "Intruders detected."

"Really, dear, please, please stop saying things like that."

"Intruders detected."

"Ok," Mac turned to them, "Doctor, you, Clara, and Saibra go scout ahead, I'll stay with Psi, and get him charged up and join you as soon as he's ready."

"Mac," the Doctor frowned, not liking that idea.

"Clara stays with one of us," Mac reminded him.

He huffed, but rolled his eyes, "Clara, stay with Mac," he said, countering Mac's plan, but conceding to part of it. They DID need to split up. They couldn't afford to just wait there, someone HAD to find the next clue or work to the next part of the plan, and it would have to be one of them, because the Architect was using higher tech than even Psi might be used to.

Still, he wasn't going to just leave his Chosen with some man they didn't know and who he trusted only as far as the man being willing to stay because there was something he wanted in the bank.

"Go," Mac urged.

The Doctor nodded and moved off with Saibra.

"Intru..." the computers began, but Psi turned and plugged himself into the panel, cutting it off and silencing it. He moved to put a chip into his head, only to wince and pull it out, brushing something off of it, blowing on it, before clipping it back in.

"Storm dust," he murmured.

Clara nodded, the three of them falling quiet as they waited for Psi to charge up enough that his glitches would be resolved. "So," she began, "You can delete your memories?"

"Yeah, it's not as fun as it sounds."

"Hmm," Mac murmured, "Always a few I'm sure people wish they could lose."

Clara reached out to take her hand, knowing there were, probably more than anyone on the planet in Mac, even more in the Doctor.

"And I've lost a few I wish I hadn't," Psi shook his head, "No, I was...I was interrogated in prison. And I guess I panicked. I didn't want to be a risk to the people close to me, so..."

"You deleted them," Mac nodded, solemn and sorrowful.

"I deleted everyone. My friends, anyone whoever helped me, my family."

"Your family?" Clara breathed, horrified by the idea.

"Of course, my family."

"How could you do that?"

"People often go to extremes when the people they love are in danger," Mac said wisely, "My daughter refused to tell the Doctor and I who she was when she met us before she'd even been born. Time traveler," she added by way of explanation to Psi, "Because we'd be in danger of making some very…very hard choices. So she didn't tell us. And she died, to keep us going, so we could live," she glanced at Psi, "You must have loved them very much."

"Suppose," Psi cleared his throat, looking away, hoping the charge would speed up.

~8~

It wasn't hard to find the Doctor, once Psi had recharged, they had both agreed to keep the majority of their mental bond muted, not wanting their various guilts for other things to rise to the surface or be amplified between them, keeping just the surface thoughts open to each other. But that was enough for her to see where he'd gone, the path he'd taken, and where he was now. So it was quite easy to lead Clara and Psi to him as he and Saibra reached a small corridor with three doors on one side, each with a barred window set into them.

The Doctor was looking inside, because a groaning noise was coming from within.

"Don't," Mac reached out when they came to a short stop, nearly running into the Doctor, who was grim, angry, and disgusted as he peered into the room. She tried to stop Clara glimpsing what he saw, what she could see in her own mind, but Clara was too quick.

"Oh, my God," Clara gasped, stepping away, her hands on her mouth, "Why is he even still alive?"

It was the man from the bank, the Teller's most recent victim, sitting against a wall, his wrists chained, drooping forward. He was still ALIVE, and it was a horrific thing to know, that the man was living in what could only be hell in the state he was in.

"He shouldn't be," Mac agreed, moving to rub Clara's back, the girl looked like she was about to be ill.

"Someone is watching," the Doctor warned, glancing up at a camera in the wall.

"Doctor," Psi spoke, having stepped back from the door, curious what had made Clara react that way, looking as disgusted as they were, "However this goes, whatever happens...don't let me end up like that."

The Doctor couldn't even make that promise, alarms had started to sound, the same computerized voice announcing, "Intruders on the service level. Intruders on the service level."

"Come on," the Doctor turned, taking Mac's hand to tug her off, leading the group down the hall, rushing around a corner, seeing nothing but hallways they were sure would soon be swarmed by guards. But there was a duct in the wall, a casing over it, which meant either a way into the room on the other side or a vent to hide in, "Now, this says, 'Place to hide.'"

"I'm going to be questioning the intelligence of the bank's security officers if they don't think to look in there," Mac murmured as the Doctor soniced the duct to get the cover off and allow them to crawl through.

Though, it seemed they might have been safer in the hall than where they ended up.

Because the first thing any of them saw the moment they stood…was a giant glass case, a faint mist inside, and the Teller itself sitting within, sitting against the glass, seemingly asleep.

"Where are we?" Saibra asked, the last to get through the vent.

"Don't," Mac reached out to yank the Doctor back when he seemed like he wanted to get closer to the Teller's box, "So far, he's asleep…"

He nodded, calling out to the others, "Nobody move. Nobody say a word. It's cocooned. Forced hibernation. Its power is probably dormant."

Clara gasped, hearing the sounds of boots stomping just outside the room, startling her, a kneejerk reaction to run away from the people trying to find her, but it made the Teller jerk in his cage, turning in her direction at the guilt of WHY they were after her.

"Clara, sweetheart," Mac spoke, slowly edging her way over to her, "I think it's locked on to you."

"It may still be asleep," the Doctor added, "Don't wake it."

"Ok," Clara swallowed hard, nearly sagging when Mac reached her and took her hand, "How do I not do that?"

"You need to block your thoughts, something calm…" Mac's mind raced, "A lullaby," she mused, "Think of a lullaby."

"A lullaby?" she sounded almost frantic.

"Something to help put you to bed," Mac nodded, "Clara, listen to me, ok, just focus on me, repeat in your head what I say, if you focus on that you can't think about other things, yes?"

"Yeah," Clara swallowed, closing her eyes and focusing, "Ok…"

Mac cleared her throat, "Lullaby and good night, in the sky stars are bright," she reached out and whacked the Doctor on the arm, hearing a snigger in her head from him. Her singing voice wasn't great, but she was trying to save Clara right now and his laughter wasn't helping, "Round your head flowers gay, scent your slumbers till day. Close your eyes now and rest, may these hours be blessed. Go to sleep now and rest, may these hours be blessed. Lullaby and good night, go to sleep little angel…"

"Mac," the Doctor said gently, reaching out to take her arm, squeezing it, "It worked."

Mac looked over at the glass, being sure not to look exactly at the Teller, not wanting to risk thinking of him when she saw him, and breathed a sigh of relief, he seemed to have stilled.

Clara peeked her eye open, looking around at the others, "Oh, thank god," she sagged.

"Psst," Psi hissed over at them, halfway across the room, having found a second duct, "This way!" he pried the cover off and began to head into it, Mac urging Clara forward first, eager to get her out of the room and away from the Teller.

The Doctor, of course, then pushed her to follow, before turning to Saibra, "Saibra!" he called, gesturing her on, though his eyes widened as he realized she had been watching the Teller, like she was keeping a lookout to warn them if the Teller began to wake…which meant she'd been thinking of him and directing her thoughts at him, "Come on!" he urged, if he could just get her out of the room before the Teller fully woke…

Saibra turned and rushed over, but the move was just what jolted the Teller awake with a roar, the creature turning and catching Saibra in its field, sending her to the floor with a cry.

"Saibra!" Mac gasped.

"How do we get her out?" Clara tried to get back into the room but the Doctor was blocking the way, keeping both of them from pushing out.

He shook his head, "It's scanning her brain," it was more awake, more focused, than it had been with Clara, it was affecting Saibra too much already, it wouldn't be lulled to sleep again.

"Then what?" Clara gasped.

"Soup," the Doctor said grimly.

"Then help her!"

"Clara," Mac reached for her arm to try and calm her down, and to hold her back from rushing into the room, seeing a plan unfold in the Doctor's mind, knowing he was only sharing it with her so SHE wouldn't do the same as Clara.

The Doctor reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the devices he'd grabbed from the last case. He'd decided to hold onto them over Mac, she had so many odds and ends in her pockets it would probably get lost in the shuffle, "Saibra!" he called over to her.

"What should I do?" the woman strained, "How can I get away? The lullaby isn't working!"

Mac winced, hearing that Saibra was trying the same method, but she knew it wouldn't work out this time.

"It's rooting through your brain," the Doctor warned, "It's tasting all the secrets stashed inside. Any moment now, it will finish its sweep and start feasting on what's left."

"And then I become one of those things we saw, sitting in a cage?"

"Yes."

Mac had to grab Clara's hand as the woman seemed ready to smack the Doctor for that harsh, if true, answer, and she couldn't risk distracting him now.

"Can you not get me out?" Saibra begged.

But he shook his head, "I'm sorry. I don't know how, once it's locked onto your thoughts..."

"Exit strategy. That means what I think it means, right?"

"Atomic shredder," the Doctor told her, holding up the device before he slid it over to her across the floor.

"A what!?" Clara gasped, looking at Mac with wide, frightened eyes, it did not sound pleasant at all. And to think that had been the thing in the box…the Architect clearly didn't care if they made it out alive or dead.

"Painless?" Saibra winced, trying to pick it up.

"And instant," he nodded, frowning when the Teller intensified his attack, seeming to realize she had a way out now.

"When you meet the Architect," Saibra gasped, "Promise me something. Kill him."

"I hate him, but I can't make that promise," the Doctor said honestly. Because they were all breaking in, because something they needed was in the bank, it could be the same for the Architect.

If it had been Mac, if SHE had been in the bank, the thing he wanted to get to, he would have done far worse to encourage the people he needed to get into the facility. He would stop at nothing, go through anyone he had to, to get to her.

"A good man..." Saibra scoffed, "I left it late to meet one of those," she took a breath and reached out to grab the device, clutching it in her hand…before she activated it and disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the others to stare at the empty space she'd been.

Mac reached out a hand for his, squeezing it lightly. He took a deep breath and turned, giving her a nod to urge her on, Mac turning to gesture Clara to keep going, they needed to get away from the Teller.

~8~

Psi didn't say a word as they gathered in another corridor, though his anger at what happened was palpable. He may not have been able to see what happened, being too far down the duct, but he had heard it all. And now there were only four of them. Without urging, he moved down one hall to check if the coast was clear while the Doctor did the same, for it appeared they had found the vault and now they just had to work out how to get into it. It was a very large door, with a number of locking mechanisms along the side and a giant wheel in the middle, a small console booth set into the wall beside it.

"Right, vault, that's clear," the Doctor said as he eyed it, Mac beside him, he hadn't let go of her hand even as they tried to crawl through the duct, "What's not clear is what we do now."

"You ok?" Clara eyed them, having noticed just that, that they hadn't let go of each other.

"No," the Doctor said simply, "I'm an amnesiac robbing a bank, with my Chosen, while something that can sniff out our guilt is at their disposal, why would I be ok?"

Clara frowned, he'd said that very matter-of-factly, "Because Saibra..."

"What?" the Doctor shook his head, "Saibra is dead, we are alive. Prioritize if you want to stay that way."

Mac had to close her eyes at that, not offended, not mad, not disgusted with is words, but just profoundly sad because she knew what was driving this reaction in him. And she knew the humans wouldn't understand.

Psi certainly didn't, because he came storming back over to them, glaring at the Doctor, "Oh, is THAT why you call yourself the Doctor?" he scoffed, "The professional detachment?"

"Psi," Mac began, sighing, shaking her head at the man.

But the Doctor was unperturbed, seeming unaffected by the man's rage, merely striding past him, tugging Mac with him, to look at the vault, "Listen, when we're done here, by all means, you go and find yourself a shoulder to cry on. You'll probably need that. Till then, what you need is me!"

Mac gave Clara and Psi an apologetic look before she turned to the Doctor, trying to ignore the whispered conversation behind her.

"Underneath it all, he isn't really like that," Clara was saying.

"It's very obvious that you've been with him for a while," Psi spat at her.

"Why?"

"Because you are really good at the excuses."

Mac let out another breath, deciding to herself that she wouldn't be able to hold off speaking to Clara about the Doctor any longer. Because Clara would, make excuses that is, for both of them, but the girl didn't even know what she was excusing or why. It was hard to defend something you didn't understand. And when you didn't understand something, it was all too easy to grow frustrated and angry with it, and she'd rather avoid Clara feeling that way about the Doctor. Soon enough, she knew, Clara would grow upset with HER for not chastising the Doctor or trying to reel him in when he was like this.

The Doctor lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it in thanks for that, for not being cross with him for how he was. Of all the people in the entire Universe, she understood. They were Chosens, they chose each other, and that meant learning and accepting and healing each other.

Mac looked around then, trying to find something that could help, she doubted anything in her pockets would help them break through that vault, it was far, far too advanced for even her trusty paperclip to be of assistance. And if she stuck the fork in her other pocket into the mechanics anywhere it might just cause the lock to seal entirely with no chance of opening it.

As she looked around, about to suggest they examine the control panel for help, she spotted something sitting against the wall, "Well, at least we know the Architect got this far," Mac sighed, moving over to pick up the case, turning to hold it up to the others.

"Another gift," the Doctor huffed, "Shall we unwrap it?"

He didn't wait for an answer, turning to place the box on the ground and open the casing, there was nothing there but what looked like a small hard drive or databank.

Psi sighed but stepped forward, pulling the chip out of the bank and inserting it into his head, wincing as the upload occurred. Clara frowned, seeing a bit of paper in the case and picked it up, TECH251, ORG339, and PV written on it. She was about to show it to the Time Lords when, a moment later, Psi was turning and running into the security control panel space, the three of them quickly following, watching as he began to put in some codes.

"Right," the augmented human began, "The system looks like it's time-delayed. There are 24 lock codes I need to break."

Mac glanced over her shoulder, hearing roaring noise that sounded like the Teller, "Oh dear, dear, dear," she murmured, before turning back to them, "I think the Teller's been released."

"We're trapped!" Clara realized.

The Doctor turned to the man, "Psi, how long?"

"As long as it takes," the man said.

"We need to lure it off, then," Mac decided, "Right, Clara, you stay here with Psi, keep a look out for him, the Doctor and I will keep it distracted."

The Doctor merely nodded, it made sense. Of the four of them, two were humans with short lives, they didn't have much to be guilty of compared to the two Time Lords and all they'd seen and lived through. And he had NO intention of letting the Teller get Mac's scent, he had more guilt than she did and was naturally a louder thinker than her, he'd be able to lure it to him easy.

"Wait!" Clara shouted before they to turned to go, "Shouldn't we have the…the um…" she gestured at the Doctor's pockets.

"You won't need them, Clara," Mac assured her, "Believe me, between the two of us we could keep the Teller interested for…a very long time."

"He'd get a feast from us," the Doctor agreed, "He wouldn't waste his time on minuscule guilt."

Clara did NOT look impressed nor comforted by his insult, merely held out her hand, "I think we'd both feel better if we had that, just in case."

The Doctor rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket and slapped two of the shredders into her palm, "Do NOT use it unless it's the very last resort," he told her.

Clara gave him a small smile, knowing why he'd said it without him needing to actually SAY it. Mac would be devastated, and so would he, especially if it was because their plan to save them failed.

Mac though, was taking no chances, leaning forward to hug Clara, "You don't use that," she instructed the woman, "Ok? Promise me."

Clara nodded, "I promise."

Psi glanced past them, hearing the roar louder, "Time to run," he warned them.

Mac and the Doctor glanced at each other before nodding, then turning to take off, one racing down the left corridor, the other down the right, both of them thinking about all the somewhat bad things they'd done in their lives to feel guilt for to tempt the Teller even more.

Mac raced around a corner, pressing herself against it and listening, trying to hear where the Teller might be and see if it was closer to her or the Doctor. She still let her mind think about the less than wonderful things she'd done, contrary to what she and the Doctor had told Clara to do in the Teller's cell. Human minds weren't able to compartmentalize the way Time Lords could, couldn't organize their thoughts or focus the same way. She and the Doctor could empty their minds instantly if they needed to, think of something else.

So long as one of them didn't get caught in the Teller's grip, the other wouldn't have to come to their rescue with even more tempting guilt.

Her eyes snapped open, hearing not just the roar of the Teller, but a grunt that sounded very much like the Doctor. She took off running before she could even tap into his mind to see if he had been found or just tripped over his own two feet, but soon enough she saw it in her mind.

She raced around another corner and down a hall, cutting down the first corner then the one at the end, and coming face-to-back with the Teller, who was facing the Doctor at the end of a wide hall, the man with his hands to his head, his thoughts trapped on Saibra and how he hadn't been able to free her from the Teller before.

"Oh, don't you dare!" Mac shouted at it, allowing her thoughts to turn to the fact that this was likely HER fault that they had no idea what was going on or why they were there, because it probably was her who had forced the Memory Worm on everyone.

"Mac!" the Doctor gave a strangled cry when the Teller released him and began to walk towards her, "What are you doing!?"

"I rather like your brain," Mac told him, keeping her thoughts on the worms, on their amnesia, luring the Teller closer, "I'd rather not see it reduced to soup."

"And you think I would yours!?" he scoffed, "Oi, you!" he tried getting the Teller's attention, before closing his eyes and thinking of his companions, the ones he couldn't save.

"Doctor!" Mac huffed, when the Teller turned and began to head back to the Time Lord. She shook her head, "That's the way you want to play it? Fine!" she closed her eyes and let her mind drift to the first thing she'd ever felt truly, horribly guilty of, "The baby," she whispered, recalling that awful time, the feeling of shame and anger and regret, that it was her fault, that she must have done something wrong, that she had led to that loss.

The Teller turned.

The Doctor shook his head, grim and serious, not about to let her continue thinking of that just to lure the Teller away, "My kids," the Doctor thought about the family he'd made on Gallifrey, how he'd lost them all through his own need for adventure and escape, then the war he hadn't been able to stop or prevent.

And the Teller turned back to him.

"Teddy," Mac swallowed hard, her eyes open now, to see the Teller move back to her, recalling her child dying in her arms, the guilt over being so angry at the Doctor she hadn't been able to properly be a mother to the boy.

"Every child on Gallifrey," the Doctor offered, which was a low blow because it was very hard to find something more devastating than thinking you were responsible for the death of so many innocents (even if he'd found out it wasn't so, he'd still felt it and thought it for years) which was why the Teller turned once more.

"River!" Mac suddenly shouted, and the Teller began to head towards her, all the memories of their daughter, of holding her in her arms, of not being able to save her, to keep her safe from the Silence and Kovarian.

The Doctor shook his head, "OUR daughter," he reminded her, "I've got plenty of guilt over her, too," he added, and his thoughts turned to the Library, to how he should have known, to how he was the father and it was HIS job to always keep his daughter safe and he'd failed, in the final test, he'd failed.

"Will you just stop it?!" Mac huffed at him, her mind moving to the Ponds, to losing them, the Teller paused, and turned to her, but didn't make a move to continue, it wasn't a powerful enough guilt, but she'd just needed him paused so she could speak to the Doctor and get him to back off, "I have done plenty more to feel guilty about than you!"

The Doctor scoffed, "Really? REALLY? YOU think you have more guilt than ME? I destroyed my entire planet!"

Mac rolled her eyes as the image of Gallifrey came into her mind, all the times he'd thought, in his last few incarnations, that he'd burned their world.

The Teller began to turn around, walking away from her and towards the Doctor.

"And then found out you saved it," she reminded him, and she could see him wince, his mind inadvertently turning to the Moment, to the knowledge that he hadn't done that and the guilt rising off him, "ME, though, I have plenty to spare."

She closed her eyes, focusing on how she'd treated him when they first reunited, the anger, the derision, the hate. She remembered every flinch he had, every time he looked devastated by her words, every time he sagged in defeat…

And that happened, that was real, that was something that hadn't been a 'misunderstanding.'

She opened her eyes when she heard a muffled curse in Gallifreyan, to see the Teller heading back towards her.

She smirked at him, "The biggest guilt of your lives, never actually happened," she said in victory.

He gave her a look, like he was half-annoyed and half-exasperated and a tad smug, "You think THAT was the greatest cause of guilt in my life?"

Her eyes widened, seeing his mind, seeing that moment so, SO many years ago…when she had told him she loved him and he'd run away from her, the guilt of everything it caused, the misery for the two of them, the pain she'd endured, the stifled way he'd had to live his own life, the strife and emptiness.

"Oh that…" she huffed when the Teller turned, yet again, to head towards him, "That...that's just not FAIR!" she nearly stomped her foot.

HOW was she supposed to compete with THAT?! It wasn't just a source of guilt that actually happened...but also incredibly sweet that his biggest regret was not being with her all this time.

"Are you two seriously COMPETING over who has more guilt!?" Clara's voice cut in, coming down from a third corridor, clearly having lasted as long as she could in the 'don't wander off' department and come to 'save' them.

"Clara!" both of them shouted at her, but before Mac could devolve further in her reprimand, Psi's voice called out, echoing down the halls.

"Come on!" Psi was shouting, "Come and find me."

"Psi!" Clara gasped, about to run back to him but Mac had reached out to grab her arm and stop her, seeing the Teller turning and not willing for her to get caught in its path by running in front of it back to Psi.

"Every thief and villain in one big cocktail!" he continued, "I am so guilty! Every famous burglar in history is hiding in this bank right now in one body! Go and feast!"

"No!" the Doctor called, closing his eyes and racing to try and think of some great guilt of his, something so profound it would lure the Teller back, knowing Mac was doing the same…but they'd underestimated Psi and his augmentation, because the Teller kept going, kept walking down the hall for Psi.

And, unlike them, he was not running about to lure him off, but staying in place so the Teller would come.

The Doctor opened his eyes, hearing Psi taunting the Teller further away and turned to Mac and Clara. He shook his head, seeing Mac still trying to get the Teller to turn around, and rushed over, "Come on," he murmured, taking her hand and pulling her off, Clara going with them as Mac still had a hold on her.

"Doctor we…we have to help him!" Clara gasped as they headed back towards the vault.

"He's got the shredder," the Doctor said simply, shaking his head, "We've only got a window of time to get in the vault."

"But Psi…" she cut herself off when they reached the vault, to see the lights that had been red before, were now green, but that the doors hadn't opened, "Why isn't it open?" she stared at it in horror, "Psi...he died for nothing."

Mac turned and hurried over to the security booth, looking at the scans and the controls, the Doctor joining her with the sonic, "Multiple locks?" she guessed.

He nodded, "Last one still in place," he reached forward to rip the front panel off, trying to get further in, "Atomic seal."

"Unbreakable," Mac realized, frowning deeply, "Even for me."

The Doctor looked nearly furious, knowing his sonic wouldn't help either, "The Architect would know that. He wouldn't bring us all this way for nothing!"

"And get two people killed," Clara added, solemn, as she came over to them.

"Exactly. There must be some logic."

"Some logic?"

"Come on, Architect!" he muttered to himself, his hand in his hair as he tried to think, "What else have you got?"

They glanced up when thunder rumbled so loudly it was able to be heard even down in the service halls.

"Oh," Mac blinked, her eyes wide, "Oh my…that's…that's so simple…" she frowned now, looking at the Doctor in concern. So much of the tech used up to that point had been high ones, the bomb, the shredders, but this…this was a simple solution.

"What?" Clara looked at her.

"There's a storm brewing," Mac turned to her, "The storm's tripping the system, it's going to trigger the last lock," she gestured Clara back so she could step out of the booth and into the hall.

"But how would he know WHEN a storm would hit?" Clara frowned, following them to the vault.

The Doctor burst out laughing at that, just the right words to help him work out what was going on, though he'd been very close when he realized the storm was going to help them, "Of course! Stupid, stupid Doctor. Of course, of course!"

"Of course, what?" Clara nearly shouted, feeling frazzled and upset about all of this.

"Whoever planned all this, they're in the future," the Doctor explained, "This isn't just a bank heist...it's a time-travel heist."

Clara shook her head like she didn't understand.

"He sent us back in time," Mac added, "To the precise moment the storm would hit, so that we could be in the right place to get into the vault when it does."

"Because that's the only time the bank is vulnerable!"

Not even a moment later, the computer announced, "Vault unlocked," as the last lock disengaged and the door began to open.

"The bank is now open!"

"Vault unlocked."

Mac glanced over her shoulder, fearing that the Teller would be coming for them soon now that they were so close, "Come on," she urged them, heading into the vault, they needed to finish this, and fast.

~8~

The vault was massive, looking like row upon row of safe deposit boxes, small little slots that had secure items behind it.

"It explains why we're not here in the TARDIS," the Doctor mused as they began to walk along the sections, eyeing the identifiers and categories.

"Sorry, what?" Clara asked, a little surprised by the sheer size of the room.

"The solar disruption would have made navigation impossible," Mac told her, "We would never have been able to land her here during the storm even with it being vulnerable."

"Hold on," Clara cut in, stopping as she noticed one of the indicators at the top corner of one of the rows, "That code…that was in the last case," she held up the card she'd found, showing them how one of the items written matched, "Tech!"

"Technology, 251," Mac read it.

"Find it!" the Doctor called, turning to quickly split up with Clara, Mac just blinked and took a step forward to see where they already were, how the numbers counted, and what was on the opposite side, before rolling her eyes and making her way to the proper location for 251. Really, it was a categorical system, and in numerical order, it didn't take much to work out approximately where 251 would be.

So she went right to it, glancing up at the plate to make sure before calling out, "Found it!" to the others. The Doctor and Clara hurried over, "Tech 251," she said, reaching out to see if she could open it, it was unlocked, which she didn't appreciate, she was looking forward to picking the lock, but alas, it was probably for the best. She pulled a small box out, the Doctor taking it to open it, examining the cylindrical device nestled inside.

"It's a neophyte circuit," he realized, "I've only ever seen one once before. It can reboot any system. Replace any lost data."

"Psi," Mac breathed.

"That's what he came for," Clara realized, "His reward."

"Being able to remember his family again."

"So, what did Saibra come for?" the Doctor wondered, and Clara looked at the card again, pointing to ORG 339.

"This way," Mac reached out to stop the Doctor rushing off on a mad search, leading them backwards from the Ts to the Os, along the numbers till they got to 339. Opening that one revealed another box, this one with a vial of an odd liquid in it.

A quick flash of the sonic confirmed, "Gene suppressant," he declared.

Clara nodded to herself, "If she changed each time she touched someone, she'd want to be able to not," she guessed, "She'd want to be normal."

"Everyone has a weakness," the Doctor nodded, "So, the big question is this, what did we come for?"

Mac frowned, trying to think of something they might need or be without, "The TARDIS?" she offered, not sure, "We still don't know where she is."

The Doctor looked at the card, "PV," he read the last entry, "Private Vault. Could be Karabraxos's own fortune."

"What would we do with a fortune?" Mac shook her head, the only way that worked would be if Karabraxos had stolen something or gained her fortune from others, then they would certainly be alright stealing it back.

But there would have been a clearer intention than that. Psi and Saibra knew exactly why they were there, what they wanted, the Architect would have known they'd need more to motivate them than just curiosity, it ran out at some point.

"Let's find out," the Doctor determined, turning to go and moving around the corner of the row, only to come face-to-face with the Teller, "Ah."

~8~

It was only something of a surprise when the trio was dragged before the woman who had led the Teller into the bank to apprehend that one man and not that the Teller utilized its gifts on them itself. It confirmed one thing for the Time Lords though, that the Teller was under this woman's authority, it could not use its abilities without her say so.

"Intruders are most welcome," the woman said as she sat at her desk, smirking as they were left to stand before her in her office, "They remind us that the bank is impregnable," she stood, eyeing them, "It's good for morale to have a few of you scattered about the place, preferably on view," she gestured to a series of monitors, cameras set up in the holding cells, revealing the most recent victims of the Teller, "Are you ready for YOUR close up? If you're thinking of ways to escape, the Teller will know before you've even made a move. You'll never be bothered by all that thinking again."

"Useful species," the Doctor remarked.

"Last of its kind, and we've signed an exclusive deal."

"How?" Mac wondered, watching the woman closely, "Why would he work for you?"

The woman just smirked, "Oh, everything has a price tag, I think you'll find," she glanced up as thunder crashed above them, "The storm's getting worse. Customers are leaving. Director Karabraxos will soon be...concerned. Our jobs will be on the line."

"You're scared of her, aren't you?" Mac realized.

"Oh, I'm terrified. I have the disadvantage of knowing Karabraxos personally."

"If you don't like your boss, why stay?" the Doctor scoffed.

The woman shrugged, "My face fits. Now...if you'll excuse me, I must take the Teller to its hibernation," she turned to the guards, nodding to the two who were standing on either side of the trio to keep them in line, "You two, dispose of our guests."

She stepped past them, leading the Teller away, taking the rest of the guards with her.

"Don't do this," the Doctor warned the two remaining guards as they began to back them up towards the wall, "I'm having a very bad day, and I do not want to be pushed around."

"You're wrong," one of the guards said, their voice somewhat muffled by the helmet it was wearing.

"Wrong?"

"It's not that bad a day. And you're being very slow."

Mac blinked as the second guard began to undo her handcuffs, "Um…should you be doing this?"

"Don't question it!" Clara hissed at her as the first guard did the same for her.

The guard chuckled, and pulled up its helmet visor to reveal a man's face…that quickly morphed into another's.

"Saibra?" the Doctor blinked.

"It LOOKED like death," the other guard spoke, pulling his helmet off to reveal Psi there as well, "Turns out they were teleporters!"

"Oh my god!" Clara laughed, jumping forward to hug them both.

"Good, isn't it?" Psi beamed, "You think we're dead, so the Teller thinks we're dead, and we play the creature at his own mind games."

Mac gave an indulgent nod and a small smile at the reunion.

The Doctor though, decided to truly ham it up, "No, no, wait, wait, wait, wait! What? Sorry, sorry, what? You, you, you're...you're alive?"

"Yeah, we're alive," Saibra gestured at them, "Look at us, we're all alive."

"No, no, no, no. Not dead. Alive."

Mac reached out to pat his arm, 'You're overdoing it a bit, Theta,' she warned him. Clara was starting to eye him with worry she was concerned might turn to suspicion.

She had recognized the teleporters, HE had been the one to say that they were shredders, along the lines of what Psi had warned. It was safer when less people knew what was going on, and their minds were better able to hide things like that, bury it under other thoughts. They could focus on what the teleports 'should' be seen as, shredders, than what they actually were.

"There's an escape ship in orbit," Psi added, "Takes you right there, oh, and there's this big blue box, is that yours?"

"Yes, yeah," Mac nodded, "That's our ship."

Clara, who had been fist-pumping the air at that welcome information, paused, when she spotted that Mac seemed a little confused and thoughtful, not as happy to find out the TARDIS was safe, "Why do you look upset about that?"

"Hmm?" Mac looked over at her, "Oh, no, no, I'm pleased the TARDIS is fine. It's just…" she sighed, shaking her head, "If that's not what WE were here for, if that's not what's in the Private Vault…what is? Why are WE here?"

"I guess it's a good thing they're back," the Doctor determined, nodding at Psi and Saibra, "Resume the mission," he turned to them, thinking of something just then and pulled the items they'd found in the smaller safety deposit boxes, holding out the bottle to Saibra, "Gene suppressant, antidote for your condition," and the circuit to Psi, "Memory giver. All your yesterdays. There you go. Job done, paid in full. Clever old Architect."

"Very clever," Saibra uttered.

"I still hate him," the Doctor remarked.

Mac was quiet, unable to shake the feeling that it wasn't just AN Architect but more than one, that there was someone else assisting the Architect. It was like…there were things that didn't match up, parts of this plan that didn't fit with other parts, like two people were handling certain areas or adding on to other ones.

"We should go," Mac shook her head, cutting in, "There's something in the private vault. Something WE were willing to break into a bank for. I'm rather curious what it is."

The Doctor nodded, taking her hand as they turned to escape.

~8~

Psi led them down another ladder, back to the service halls, to the lowest level of the bank, having gotten the blueprints set up in his head. He knew exactly where the Private Vault was. He brought them down the hall, to another area where a very large pipe leading into the vault was located.

"What's that?" the Doctor eyed it.

"Supply line," Psi told them, "It's the only oxygen down to the private vault. There's another one for water for basic life support."

"Why would you need air or water in a private vault?" Mac murmured.

"Someone likes to hang out with their wealth," the Doctor said simply, heading for the easiest way in.

~8~

The Doctor shoved the case off the duct, surprised that there wasn't more effort to secure every way into the room even with the air duct, but with how 'secure' the bank was thought to be, it would make sense that the Private Vault would think itself safe. The room beyond was of a classical design, very posh, filled with artifacts that made it look more like a museum than an office or a vault setting. There was even classical music playing over a record.

The only thing that seemed out of place was a large wing-backed chair set behind a desk, two items that didn't seem to fit with how valuable and priceless every other item in the room was.

"Director Karabraxos?" the Doctor called, leading the small group towards the desk, "Excuse us, but we've come to rob you. So, if you want to put your hands above your head, or..."

"Oh dear," Mac blinked when the chair turned and revealed the very same woman who had been charged with the Teller sitting there, her hands up in a mocking display.

"Or?" the woman continued, not seeming afraid or alarmed, "You didn't bring any weapons."

Clara snorted, trying to hide it behind a cough as the woman gave her an odd look. She clearly had no idea who the Doctor or Mac were if she thought the Time Lady couldn't make a weapon out of the pen resting on the woman's desk and a rubber band or something else. She'd seen her take an enemy down with a pencil eraser once.

"That's a bit of an oversight," the woman got back to it, lowering her hands and leaning in to press an intercom button, "Security, Karabraxos here."

"You're Karabraxos?" the Doctor eyed her, honestly seeming to have thought it was the security woman pulling one over on them.

"One moment," she waved him off.

"Director Karabraxos, is there a problem?" a monitor flickered on, and they could see…the exact same face looking back at her.

"Intruders in the private vault. Send me the Teller. I want to find out how they got in, and then I want to wipe their memories."

"Oh, she's a clone," Mac realized, considering it, "A very advanced one. Didn't even smell."

"How can you tell?" Clara glanced at her, the woman had been wearing some rather heavy perfume.

"It's the only way to control my own security," Karabraxos said, leaning back in her chair, "I have a clone in every facility," before calling into the comm., "Get on it right away."

"Yes, of course," her clone agreed.

"And then hand in your credentials. You're fired, with immediate effect."

"But, please, I've been in your service..."

"Ever since the last one let me down and I was forced to kill it. I can't quite believe that you're putting me through this again," she huffed, ending the call and sighing, "My clone. And yet she doesn't even protest. Pale imitation, really. I should sue!"

"You're killing her?" Clara stared in horror, "You just said..."

"Fired," Mac repeated, wincing, "I suppose that's rather a literal description of it."

Karabraxos nodded, "I put all of the used clones into the incinerator. Can't have too many of moi scattered around."

"Sorry, you don't get on with your own clone?" Psi seemed both amused and deeply concerned about that.

"She hates her own clones, she burns her own clones," the Doctor scoffed, "Frankly, you're a career break for the right therapist, " and then he suddenly jerked as a thought struck him, "Shut up. Everybody, just...just shut up!"

"And what is this display now, as amusing as you are?" Karabraxos crossed her arms.

But the Doctor would have none of it, "Shut up! Just shut up, shut up, shut up, shutetty up up up!" he quickly snapped his fingers and pointed at Saibra, "What...what did you say? What did...you say? What did you say...about your own eyes? De-shut up, say it again."

Mac looked over, realizing this must have been something Saibra had said when she and the Doctor had gone off while she stayed with Psi and Clara for him to charge.

"How can you trust someone if they look back at you out of your own eyes?" Saibrua asked, not sure if that was exactly it.

"I know one thing about the Architect," the Doctor nodded, looking around, "What is it that I know? I know one thing, something I've known from the very start."

"What?" Clara asked.

"I hate him. He's overbearing, he's manipulative, he likes to think that he's very clever. I HATE him. Don't you see?" he moved over to Mac, looking at her as though she should get it, "Mac?"

"You hate the Architect?" she guessed.

"What in the name of sanity is going in this room now?" Karabraxos demanded as she stood up.

"We're getting sanity judgment from the self-burner," he huffed, turning to the desk, "Do you mind if I borrow a little bit of paper?" he didn't wait for an answer, merely taking some paper from the desk and grabbing a pen to jot something down.

"And what are you doing now?"

"I'm giving you..." he slid the paper towards her, "My telephone number."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought you might like to call me someday," he said simply, folding the paper to show a message on the other side that read 'I am a time traveler.'

"Not sure how I feel about you giving random women your number, dear," Mac called, though her tone was more amused than chastising.

He was so frantic and excited that he was working out the plan, what the Architect had set in motion, that it was hard NOT to see it flying out of his head. She knew, right then and there, all he had too.

The Doctor glanced up when the thunder rumbled much louder than before, so powerful it began to shake the room, "Oh, that was a big one, wasn't it? I think that your bank is about to close for good, Karabraxos. If I was you, I'd get going. Don't mind us, we'll just stay here and burn."

Mac shook her head as the woman got up, an alarm starting to go off through the building, as she seemed to struggle to decide what to take with her in a small case, "It's funny, isn't it?" she asked the woman, "When you have so much, you don't know what to save, what will mean the most to you," she reached out and took the Doctor's hand, drawing a smile from him.

He understood.

They had both lost so much, the only thing they really had left were each other and the TARDIS. It made it all too clear what someone really needed to go on, what was truly important. She could lose the TARDIS, but if she lost the Doctor…she didn't think she could do it, and she felt the same coming off him now as well. The TARDIS had been his home for centuries, even before the war, but if he lost HER, it wouldn't matter if he lost the TARDIS.

"So, what's the plan?" Clara spoke to them quietly as the shaking and thunder got worse, "IS there a plan?"

"We can use the shredders, get back to the ship," Saibra offered.

"They're not shredders, they're teleports," Mac reminded them, "And that's the last step of the plan."

"Then there IS a plan?" Clara repeated.

Mac nodded, "We've worked out why we came," she said, "Because of the teleports."

"What about them?" Psi shook his head.

Mac looked over at them, "There were seven of them," she said, "And there's six of us."

"There's five of us," Saibra corrected.

"Not for long," the Doctor said, calling over to Karabraxos as she began to head for the door, "Give me a call me some time."

"Doors opening," a computer stated as she reached the door.

"You'll be dead," Karabraxos taunted.

"Yeah, you'll be old, we'll get on famously. You'll be old and full of regret for the things that you can't change."

Karabraxos just walked out, "Doors closing."

"Ok, really, what the hell is going on?" Psi had to ask.

"Did you remember something?" Clara looked at them, guessing their Time Lord minds might have made them better able to recover their memories from the worm.

"No," Mac answered, "The last thing we remember is the phone ringing in your flat, and then sitting in that warehouse."

"But we are understanding," the Doctor added.

"What is it?" Clara frowned, "What are you understanding?"

"I'm not sure yet," the Doctor admitted, "I need my memory back. And I think there is only one way to do that..."

"Which would be?"

"You don't want to know, Clara," Mac told her, "I don't even want to know and I'm connected to his head. So it won't be anything I'm ok with. And if this goes wrong I will be very, very cross with you!" she pointed at the Doctor.

She understood why he needed to remember, she wanted to as well. Because there was one thing this seemed to be leading to, but if they were wrong then they might be heading for a trap within a trap. The reason she thought they were there could be right, but there was a risk they couldn't take with the lives of other people with them. And she knew the Doctor was equally as concerned, because their absolute worst thought was that someone they knew had been trapped in the bank, perhaps the Architect had taken it a step further to get them there. Or it could be exactly what they thought. They had to KNOW.

He just gave her a wink of reassurance, when the lift doors opened and the Teller stepped out with a growl.

"Hello, big man!" the Doctor grinned at the beast, "Peckish?"

"Clara, no!" Mac lunged forward to pull Clara back when she nearly ran to the Doctor's side, the Teller having turned on him, rubbing his eyestalks together to scan the Doctor, driving him to the floor, "You have to stay back, don't get caught in its field."

"But…" Clara began, when she realized Mac's grip on her arm was ridiculously tight, the woman's gaze locked on the Doctor, and she was shaking herself. She let out a breath and put a hand on Mac's, trying to offer her support and taking comfort in the fact that she didn't approve of this either.

"That's it..." the Doctor groaned, trying to egg the Teller on, not wanting to risk him turning on the others, "There are so many memories in here. Feast on them. Tuck in. Big scarf, bow tie, bit embarrassing. What do you think of the new look? I was hoping for minimalism, but I think I came up with magician! In the last few days, there's been a block. Can you see the block? Tell me why I'm here! Show me why I'm here! Show me!"

He winced, closing his eyes as the memories were sucked to the surface.

Mac let out a breath, seeing them play out in rapid succession in his head.

The phone call at Clara's, Karabraxos calling in her dying hours, wanting them to ease her regret.

Her, telling Clara they were going to rob a bank while she searched for people with the right skills to help them. The Doctor had wanted to do it by himself, for fun, but she'd convinced him it would be easier with just the two more people she'd spotted.

Finding Saibra and Psi, getting the DNA from the man Saibra disguised herself as with a simple handshake.

Explaining the plan to them as they sat at the table, about to touch the worms.

The Doctor recording the message, using a simple little voice changer to hide himself.

Her, planting the cases though the facility, filled with items he had picked out, but in key locations she had determined.

The two of them, her and the Doctor, researching the bank, her picking the right time for the heist, using the storm to assist them.

And she realized why it felt so disjointed at times, the high tech with the simplicity, because it HAD been, the Doctor had lobbied for the high tech gadgets, while she had picked the simpler, more subtle methods to do things.

The Doctor jerked back with a gasp, the Teller releasing him, seeing in the Doctor's mind why they were there and not wanting to harm the man that could finally HELP him.

Mac was at his side in an instant, kneeling down to check him, making sure he was alright, literally patting him down as though there might be a physical injury for a few seconds, before she looked at the Teller, "You saw, didn't you?" she asked, it "Why we're here? Why we came?"

"We had to delete our own memories," the Doctor spoke, reaching up to put his hand on hers where it was gripping his shoulder, "Otherwise you'd have known, and then she'd have known. Because you're mentally linked. But she's gone now. They've ALL gone. They have no power over you now. You can do exactly what you want to do now. Exactly what you've always wanted to do."

The Teller let out a roar and turned to a door in the wall, similar to the Vault door but on a small scale, quickly using its telekinesis on it, unlocking it.

"It knows the combination!" Psi stared.

Mac nodded, helping the Doctor up, "It had a mental link to Karabraxos, if she knew it, so does he."

"What exactly are we doing here?" Clara hissed at them, hurrying over while Psi and Saibra kept an eye on the Teller, "That thing killed people!"

"So would anyone," the Doctor defended easily, "To protect everything you loved."

They looked over as the door opened completely, revealing a second Teller, in the same suit, sitting on the ground, chained to the wall. It let out a relieved and heartbreaking roar when it saw the other Teller.

"Oh dear, you poor thing!" Mac hurried over to it, holding up her hands and opening her mind enough that it would realize she was there to help it, getting to work on the chains holding it down.

"There she is," the Doctor nodded, "Not the last of its species. The last TWO."

"Seven shredders," Saibra breathed, "The exit strategy."

"We had to be sure we were here for her," Mac glanced at them, getting the chain off its neck and moving to its one arm, "We couldn't risk there was someone else trapped here."

"This wasn't a bank heist," the Doctor nodded, moving to help her, flicking the sonic on the other cuff.

"Cheater," Mac huffed at him as she got her own cuff off, the two of them helping the second Teller up.

"It was rescue mission," he continued, "For a whole species. Flesh and blood, the last currency," he glanced up, the room shaking even worse as the thunder sounded nearly right above them.

"Time to go home," Mac said to the Tellers gently, "What do you think, sweeties? Hmm? Want to go home?"

The Tellers could only roar in agreement.

~8~

It should have made them reconsider, the planet they had chosen to bring the Tellers to. It was a small planet, empty, the only two beings that would be living on it would be the Tellers and that sort of isolation, for most species, was never a healthy thing. But, when it came to the Tellers, perhaps that was just what they needed after being forced to devour all those secrets and read all those thoughts of every person entering the bank.

As Mac stood there, watching the two creatures walk off among the grass, she couldn't help but take the Doctor's hand. A part of her, small though it was, imagined, just for a moment, the two of them finding a little planet, maybe one with a burnt orange sky, with trees with silver leaves, not Gallifrey, nothing could ever be Gallifrey, but close. Maybe settling down, maybe having River and Teddy know that was where they would be, to visit. But that was a fantasy for someone who could start a family, be together and grow, and that could never be her or the Doctor, not unless they used a progenation machine or cloning or other means. And, if she was being honest, perhaps that would be a better thing to wait for, when they retired, if they ever retired, going there and being a family, being Chosens, having peace.

Right now, neither of them were too keen to stop. The Doctor because he was seeing the world with new eyes, and her because he wanted to keep going and because Clara did, too. The earth, also, was counting on them far too much to just leave them alone.

"One day," the Doctor promised her quietly, squeezing her hand, which was shocking enough on its own, to hear him say such a thing.

She could recall a story he told once where he'd been horrified at the idea of settling down somewhere or getting stuck somewhere with Rose, it was probably worse after being stuck on Christmas so long. Hearing that he was considering, even in some small way, the possibility of that with her, it made her smile.

"But not today," she assured him.

"So that's it, then?" Clara asked, stepping over to them from where she'd been waving to the Tellers, "This is where they'll stay?"

"So much mental traffic in the universe," the Doctor nodded, "Solitude is the only peace."

"Probably the ONLY situation where 'Silence will Fall' is appropriate and welcome," Mac teased him, earning a roll of his eyes.

~8~

"You alright?" Mac asked, moving to Clara's side where the girl was standing off to the side, watching the Doctor divide up the Chinese food he'd popped out to get, actually being quite tired after the excitement of the day, the man laughing and smiling, which was much different than how he'd been in the bank.

"What?" Clara blinked, startled, not having noticed, before nodding, "Yeah, fine."

"Clara," Mac gave her the look only a mother could when they knew a child was trying to hide something.

Clara caved almost instantly, nearly sagging as she let out a breath, "I AM fine," she told Mac, "I'm not hurt or upset or angry or anything. It's just…" she glanced back at the Doctor, "I'm starting to think I understand the sort of man the Doctor is now and I just…"

"He's not what you expected?" Mac guessed.

It was probably easier for her or the Doctor to change and accept the other than a human could, they had too many preconceived notions, they got too attached to the first ones they met that the change and accepting it sometimes took a while or never happened. Clara was likely comparing the Doctor to his last self at each turn even if she wasn't aware she was doing it, which made the differences between them glaring.

Time Lords, it was just natural to change. You never expected the person to be the same.

"Yeah," Clara said, her voice quiet, like she almost regretted having to admit it, "He's just very…" she really tried to find a different word for it than the one that kept coming to mind, "Cold."

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose," Mac remarked.

"I mean," Clara turned to her, concerned, "He had no idea what those things were, he thought they were shredders, he let them believe they were going to die, and he encouraged them to do it. He didn't care after. He didn't…I'm so used to him caring."

"Oh Clara," she pulled the girl into a hug when her voice broke at the end, "He still does, he cares very much, sweetie," she rubbed her back and pulled away, "He could never NOT care."

"But he…" Clara shook her head, "It wasn't just with the Teller. He left me with the half-faced man, left all of us with the robots. He didn't care when Ross and Gretchen died, he just kept on. And Rupert and Orson were terrified and the Doctor just told him to shush and be quiet. And now? I just…"

"I am so very glad you don't remember your life on Gallifrey," Mac murmured, rubbing Clara's arms, knowing the girl had been a Time Lady at one point, "I'm so glad you don't remember the war. Clara," she sighed, "I'm going to tell you something I probably shouldn't, because the Doctor's not very comfortable talking about it or other people knowing it. I don't think any soldier would but…"

"What is it?" Clara frowned, feeling like she was missing something.

"Christmas," Mac began, making sure the Doctor was distracted by Psi and Saibra before she continued, "It was a nightmare, Clara. It was…so awful. Words just...I don't have the words to describe how bad it really was. And he was there for so long, in the middle of an endless war. For centuries. I don't even want you to imagine what that was like, not just for a person, for a solider, but for a DOCTOR to be caught in the middle of that."

"Terrible," Clara murmured, swallowing hard. She'd been cast away so often during those events, she had seen hardly anything of it. It was…sometimes too easy to forget the Doctor had been there for almost a millennia.

"More than," Mac nodded, "In war, the doctors, the medics, anyone there to help the wounded…a lot of very hard choices had to be made. About who had a chance to survive, and who was too far gone. And they HAD to help the ones they could save and leave the others. It's awful and heartsbreaking, but it's war. You save who you can and pray for the ones you can't."

"And that…" Clara couldn't even finish her sentence.

Mac nodded, understanding anyway, "For almost 1,000 years, Clara, that was what he had to do. He tried, so hard, to protect everyone. But there were times he had to decide who could be saved and who were unsaveable. For a doctor? For THE Doctor?" she shook her head and looked over at the man, so sad, "It leaves a scar."

"I think it would leave more than a scar," Clara said softly, starting to understand.

"No soldier walks away from war unchanged," Mac added wisely, "Some are more affected than others, but ALL are affected. He had to live that way for centuries, is it any wonder it carried over?" she glanced at Clara, "He cares, Clara, he cares more than ever. But he can't…he can't LET himself show it, he can't let himself feel it when things are down to the wire, when it really matters. Because…" she let out a breath, trying to think of a not-horrible way to put this, but there really wasn't anything, "You're my companion, and if anything happened to you, it would devastate both of us and we would do anything to save you. If you were…god forbid, dying in front of us and there was no way to help you, and there were a group of frightened and scared children on the other side who needed our help to escape…"

"I get it," Clara nodded, and she did.

The Doctor, the Doctor Clara had known, would focus on HER, on saving her and then hope that, afterwards, he could save the children too. One person, who might not make it, compared to the scores of children who would certainly live if he helped them first. She would want him to save the children, to forget about her, because they were children, but he would care too much, he was too close to her, to give up that easily.

He'd just spent years and years having to witness that in action. Trying to save the people who were too far gone and losing more and more because of it.

His choice would be different now, it would HAVE to be different now.

Because he couldn't keep losing people when he could save them.

If he tried to save her and lost her, and then lost the children, it would destroy him. He had to make the hard choice of who he could save and what he could reasonably do. He'd save the children first and then come back to try and help her, she knew that in her heart.

"Do you?" Mac eyed her a moment, concerned.

Clara sniffled, feeling so awful for the Doctor, that he'd clearly experienced that much trauma that it had carried over into the man he was now. She nodded, "I do," she looked at Mac, "He's making the hard choices, and he has to keep going, because if he doesn't, more people could die."

Mac's smile was solemn and heartsbroken, "And he's doing it so I don't have to," she added, glancing back at the Doctor, "He knows I don't have the ability to be that distant this time, in this body," in the first her that travelled with him she might have, but not this one, "And it would destroy me to have to choose."

Clara reached out to take her hand, understanding that as well. The Doctor had sent her away, but not Mac, and it wasn't just the Doctor who had been traumatized by Christmas. Mac, the mother in her, had to be there, had to watch as so many children, for what else were humans to Time Lords but children, died before her eyes. The Doctor had had it doubly hard, for he had to witness his own failings, and comfort his devastated wife afterwards. She didn't doubt that, back then, the Doctor had born the brunt of all the terrible things that happened, tried to shield Mac from it as much as he could. The Doctor she saw now, she knew, was trying to spare her that, it was his way of trying to keep as many safe as he could.

It was a choice soldiers had to make.

For a moment, she couldn't help but think that Danny and the Doctor would be quite good friends, both soldiers, both scarred, both hating the choices they made, both wanting to keep people safe and be better than they were. Maybe she should introduce them to Danny sooner than she thought.

"Oi!" the Doctor called over to them, "Come on, it's getting cold!"

Mac laughed, shaking her head and nudging Clara towards the small picnic of food scattered about.

~8~

Mac smiled as she watched Clara step out of the TARDIS and into her flat, ready and excited to finally get to her date. She'd been very sure to set them down very close to when they'd left so Clara didn't accidently miss the date.

It had been quite a day. Robbing a bank, eating Chinese food, listening to the Doctor recount the first time he'd seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It had been wonderful giving Psi his memories back, dropping him off, seeing Saibra overjoyed to be able to shake hands with them and hug them without becoming them, getting her home. It had been nice to part ways with the 'strays' they picked up and have them all make it.

"7:12," Mac assured her, "45 seconds exactly after we left."

"Go on," the Doctor gestured her off towards the doors, "Enjoy yourself. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Mac snorted as he wound an arm around her shoulders, "That's a fairly short list," she teased him.

He nodded, "Don't do anything Mac wouldn't do."

"Better but still not great."

Clara rolled her eyes at them, heading for the door, only to pause when something struck her, "I've just realized. I'm going out for another meal now!"

"Don't worry," the Doctor said, "Calories consumed on the TARDIS have no lasting effect."

"What? Are you kidding?!"

"Yes," Mac elbowed him lightly in the side, "He is."

"Of course I'm kidding," he rolled his eyes, "It's a time machine, not a miracle-worker! Bye!"

Clara shook her head at them, but turned back to the door, "See you!" she called as she left, "Don't rob any banks."

"'Don't rob any banks' what?" the Doctor challenged.

Clara peeked her head back in, giving him a gentle smile, "Without me," she finished, giving Mac a wink before she ducked out, officially off to her date.

The Doctor chuckled and shook his head, "Robbing a bank! Robbing a whole bank! Beat that for a date!"

"I am a lucky woman," Mac nodded, squeezing him around the middle, before they turned to head into the TARDIS and go off on their next adventure.

A/N: That moment at the end with Clara and Mac, that was something I wanted to try and take for the Doctor in this story, that sort of 'result of the war' version of him. Maybe THAT was why he was the way he was this time. He seemed very distant to me, borderline cold, but the way he sort of single-mindedly continued on his task after, especially in this episode, it made me feel like a soldier who knew he had to keep going for the greater good of the masses. He can hate himself after, but in the moment, it is HIS duty to keep as many safe as he could.

It sort of echoed back to the Mummy episode, sometimes there's only terrible choices and you still have to choose, he sounded so worn then in the show and like he'd just experienced too much of it. And he sort of hadn't, from what we see of this series, not enough that it piled up to that level of weariness...unless you count Christmas and all we didn't see and the glimpses we did.

So the Doctor, in this story, is going to be more about healing from that mentality. That trying NOT to care because if he gets too attached he'll make bad choices and try to save the unsaveable to the detriment of those he could have saved. He'll have to find his way back to being alright caring about other people.

In a way, when he says to Mac a few times that Clara has both him and Mac looking out for her and that's why she's safer, it's partly a tiny lie. He knows Mac is undeniably attached to Clara, it's her first companion. And Mac is such a mother hen that she'd automatically notice and focus on Clara first. If Clara is safe, under Mac's watch, then that's one (or two, because Clara would return the favor) less person he has to worry about keeping safe and he can focus more on the problem at hand and solve it faster and get them out of danger entirely.

I think, also, that will make the revelation about why he chose the face he did much more poignant when it happens. Because he saved someone that, realistically, should have died, would have been counted in that 'unsaveable' category, and he DID it. It's ok to care, it's ok to TRY and save people, that was his promise in his name.

And, this is going to have a big impact on how Clara views the Doctor and his 'pushing.' Now that she has this glimpse into his mentality, to the scarring he's trying to bear, to the trauma he (and Mac) have faced, she's going to look at things he does in a much different light than Danny would probably want ;)

Although, speaking of the Mummy episode earlier...my absolute favorite one to write for this story ;)

No real notes on reviews today ;)