The waves crashed, the tide was out. They stood alone on a beach were a familiar gray house over looked the ocean. She stared forlornly at the drab looking house, and swore it was mocking her. She hated the sight of it. The Doctor looked out over the ocean, recognition lighting his eyes.

"I know this place…"

Of course he did.

"Bad Wolf Bay," she whispered in astonishment. Of course it would bring them here. The beast stirred, its ugly head lifted as if a scent had caught its nostrils.

"What?" She hissed.

It remained silent, but she saw the grin creep around its hideous lips.

"This is different," the Doctor continued, glancing up at the house. He caught a glance of the women and saw familiarity in her gaze as she looked up at the gray house. Frowning, he watched; studying her. But she felt his gaze and her cold mask was settled into place.

"Shall we take a look inside?" He asked. A more important question was begging to be said, but he found he could not bring himself to ask.

With a silent nod she led the way up the steep, rickety steps to the door. The porch was bare save for a worn place mat, but when they reached the door they found it locked.

"Disappointing," he mumbled. He looked through the darkened window, but saw little as a curtain, yellowed with age, hid most of the interior.

"Ah, found the key."

He turned to find the women held up a rusty key in her hand. He noticed the place mat had been moved; he leveled a steady gaze at the women waiting for her explanation.

"It seemed obvious," she motioned toward the dirty mat, "it's where I would place my key anyway."

He noted her unsteady hand, but without further question took the key from her and opened the door.

The interior was chaos.

Chairs had been thrown on the floor, papers scattered around the room in disarray. Dishes were shattered on the floor, and the wooden planks revealed, from what is seemed, a wild animal had been let loose. For deep claw marks were scattered savagely into the wood, and the Doctor noticed odd scorch marks on the furniture and the walls.

"Dear god," he murmured.

He stepped further into the room, leaving the woman standing on the threshold.

She tried to move, tried to follow him into the room, but found she had turned to stone. Everything was how she remembered; the stuffing spilling out of the chairs to the shattered coffee mug on the floor. Her eyes darted about the room looking desperately, then she found what she sought.

There, barely visible beneath the splinted desk, lay the photograph. Suddenly regaining herself, she stumbled into the house, reaching for the the photo. The glass was broken in spider web cracks, but she could still see the smiling face of a small boy. She tenderly dusted away bits of broken glass, barely feeling the cuts it made on her fingers. The boy was smiling joyfully into the camera; a woman she once knew had her arms wrapped protectively around the child; a wide grin lighting up her face.

Time must have frozen, for she was swept away into that moment when the photo was first taken. How happy they had been, how joyful. How she missed him. She had kept this photo close for many years, the last thing she had kept of her past.

When will you come back? He had asked her tearfully.

Soon, she had whispered, pressing him closely, I'll be home soon.

Oh, Tony…

Resentment raged through her in a sudden wave. Cruel, this place was cruel reminding her what she had lost; looking through her mind and recreating a false reality, recreating the moment that her changed her entire lifetime. She traced the cracks in the frame, none of this could be real. It was teasing her, wanting her to believe it was real.

Torn, she dragged her eyes from the photo to see the still figure of the Doctor looking through the kitchen window. He stood so still, completely lost in thought, but suddenly he turned to face her. Noticing the photo in her hands he said, "find something?"

She looked down and felt her heart constrict.

"No," she said gruffly, "nothing."

"I think that is something," he strode toward her, and before she could protest, he snatched the frame from her fingers. He frowned at the obscured photo, but she noticed the recognition in his eyes. Quickly, he tore the photo from the cracked frame, desperate to see the photograph clearly.

The green eyes widened, a name forming at his lips, but he pressed his mouth into a thin line; eyes glaring hard at the two figures in the frame.

"This was her," he said gruffly, suddenly breaking the silence.

Her hand twitched at her sides, desperate to reclaim the photograph.

"Your friend?" She asked hastily. He nodded, his eyes never diverting away form the smiling girl.

His fingers traced the outer edge of the photograph, then carefully, he took the journal form his jacket pocket and put the photo behind the front cover.

That's mine! She wanted to say, but dug her teeth into her tongue.

"What happened to you?" she heard him whisper. She jerked her head up, but he was not looking at her. He gazed haphazardly about the tight room, trying to find answers in the broken walls. She, too, gazed about the room in confusion. Whatever this place was, it wanted to reveal the darkest of her secrets. The journal, the picture, the book, it was all slowly leading its way back to her. Soon she would be laid bare before all; but why? What was this obsession with her past?

The beast remained silent, but she knew it was watching, as if it were waiting for its time to strike.

The silence between them became too much for her to bear; wanting to know his thoughts she gingerly asked, "what are you thinking?"

She felt the compulsion to reach for him, to find the familiarity they once had shared. But he did not see her, his eyes searching about the room for a ghost.

"She lived here," he racked his fingers through his hair, desperation causing a slight tremor in his hands, "here of all places…why…I thought…" he paused when he caught the golden eyes peering curiously at him.

"Thought what?" She pressed. He shook his head, trying to dispel the circling thoughts running through his mind.

"I thought she was safe," he sighed helplessly. The golden eyes looked past him to gaze out the open window. She was never safe. Even when he had left her standing on the beach, the wolf had been lurking over her shoulder.

He felt her eyes turn back onto him, he could always seem to feel her gaze. She always seemed to be following him, tracking his every move, as if he were prey.

"No," her voice was harsh in her throat, "she was dragged from her home and tortured. Those people must have been searching for her for a long time. They wanted the beast, they knew about it…Why would you think she was ever safe?" Unchecked resentment caused sparks to ignite at her finger tips, her words biting into them both. He said nothing for a long moment, he only stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably under his solemn gaze.

"How did you know of this place?" He asked unexpectedly. Surprise cracked her mask of indifference; her eyes widened slightly, but a frown creased her forehead.

"I don't understand…"

"Bad Wolf Bay. I heard you say it. You know of this place." He took a step toward her, cornering her. A flush of panic rose into her cheeks, the sparks at her finger tips sputtered.

"No," she denied, "I've never…"

"Yes, I heard you, I saw your face. You recognized this place." He took another step toward her, his face a mask of steel.

"No…" she whispered, her mind scrambling to find anything to divert him, but suddenly her face became slack as her eyes focused out the gaping window.

There stood the man by the shoreline facing the little gray house with his hands deep in his pockets. And though she could not clearly see his face, she knew he was smiling.

Her mouth opened slightly, her words of denial slipped from her tongue. She was cornered, and there was no escape.

"Please tell me you see him," she gasped desperately. The Doctor turned to glance out the window, but the ocean waves were all he saw.

"There is no one," he turned back to her, and frowned in concern when he saw her tremble. Her jaw clenched and her eyes sparked; she was terrified. He almost reached out to her, but she suddenly bolted from the room; the door banging loudly against the wall. Uncertainty made him freeze. The woman was unpredictable, and he wondered if he should let her disappear. There was something wrong about her, something lurking in her eyes…

He saw her running down the beach from the window, her auburn hair flying in the wind. She stopped abruptly, her figure as still as a statue. Her voice carried with the wind through the open window, and though it was faint he heard the panic rising in her voice.

"What the hell do you want?" he heard her say. Frowning he glanced again up and down the beach.

Nothing, there was nothing, but he continued to watch her. Her hands fisted at her sides began to spark again; who was this woman?

"Answer me dammit," her voice shook, and took a step forward. All he heard was the sound of the crashing waves.

She stilled, immobilized, and as he watched, he saw golden light begin to swarm about her. It swirled about her arms like flames. Her shoulders heaved and with a scream the golden light exploded at the invisible being. Her scream reached his ears, and he almost shied away from the sound. It was full of despair and anger; a sound he knew too well. He watched her waver on her feet then collapse to the ground as the golden light diminished from her hands; her shoulders shaking from the exertion. She hunched into herself, bringing her knees to her chest; how vulnerable she seemed.

He turned away form the window, suddenly unsure of himself, but after a thought, he walked through the open door-he noticed the door had almost been wrenched from its hinges- and carefully walked down the rickety steps. He approached her slowly, cautious of his movements so as not to frighten her; the golden light still sparked about her, and he was unsure if she might direct that dangers light at himself. She heard his approach and stood quickly, causing him to step back.

She faced him with gleaming eyes, her hair whipping about her face. She struggled to regain her composure, turning her head slightly to hide the falling tears. Again he stepped away from her; her unpredictable emotional state causing him more alarm. She saw his defensive stance, and felt her heart break. She wished he would offer her his hand, allow her to step into his embrace and comfort her, but his hardened eyes reminded her they would never be the same again.

"We must go," she hurriedly brushed the sand from her legs.

"What did you see?" He asked, he needed answers. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, biting her lip, debating her next words.

"It was the man," she answered softly, "the same as before…he is following us."

"And what did he saw?" He asked cautiously; hoping she would hide from him again.

She looked at him helplessly, her mind racing.

"Nothing," she stated, and he knew she would say nothing more. She trudged past him to the rickety stairs, avoiding his stare.

He turned and watched her for a moment then asked, "do you still see him?"

She paused in her step then turned back to him; her eyes fliting to a spot just over his shoulder.

"No," she answered then turned and continued back up to the house.

She's lying, he thought. He turned to glance at the ocean, searching for any sign of what she had seen. A cold wind blew causing him to shiver. There was a whisper calling to him, but he could not hear the words. So with a final glance, he turned and followed her back into the house.