The Unquiet Dead

Cardiff
December 24th, 1869

Inside a small room at night, an old, balding man with white haired sideburns is taking matches and lighting the gas lamps, creating a faint, hissing noise throughout the room. A younger man stands by a coffin with an old lady inside, looking at her in distant sadness. "Sneed and Company offer their sincerest condolences, sir, in this most trying hour." The old man said as he extinguished the match and walked over to him.

"Grandmother has a good innings, Mr. Sneed. She was so full of life. I can't believe she's gone." He mumbled.

"Not gone, Mr. Redpath, sir. Merely sleeping." Sneed said softly.

Redpath gave him a soft smile. "Can I have a moment, please?"

"Yes, of course. I shall be in the next room if you need anything." Sneed said, patting him on the back softly before leaving the man alone. Redpath looked at her with a sad smile, sniffing as he tried to hold back his tears, making him reach into his coat pocket for his handkerchief to dab his eyes. As he looked down at her, he jumped in shock as she stared up at him with wide, emotionless eyes as she shot her hand out and grasped hard onto his neck. He struggled to break free to breathe, causing him to knock over a nearby vase on the floor, smashing it and alerting Sneed into the room. Sneed looked on with a roll of his eyes. "Oh no." He groaned, moving over to help Redpath out of her grasp, yet only succeeded in snapping the man's neck, making him fall to the ground, stone dead. Sneed looked at his body with wide eyes, before grabbing the coffin lid and shoving it down onto the old woman, who held up both hands and stopped its path with surprising strength. "Gwyneth! Get down here now! We've got another one!" He shouted, as the woman shoved the lid into his face hard, making him fall to the ground unconscious while she broke the side of her coffin and went to stand up. She walked out of the house, wailing as she did before deciding to go to the nearby theatre, to see the man coming to visit town.

"Are you holding that one down?!" The Doctor said.

"Of course, I am!" Rose admonished.

"You hold both of them down, Rose!" Clara said.

"This isn't going to work!" Rose protested.

"Oi! I promised you a time machine and that's what you're getting! Now, you've seen the future, let's have a look into the past! 1860! How does 1860 sound?!"

"What happens in 1860?!"

"I don't know! Let's find out!" He said with a grin. "Hold on!" He pulled a lever, making them land with a thud, causing them to stumble to the floor of the TARDIS as it finally stabilised. The trio then started laughing, releasing the adrenaline they had just built up as they move to stand.

"Blimey!" Rose laughed.

"You're telling us. You two all right?" The Doctor asked.

"Yeah, all fine here." Clara said.

"I think so. Nothing broken." Rose said, as the Doctor checked the monitor. "Did we make it? Where are we?"

"I did it! Give the man a medal!" The Doctor grinned. "Earth, Naples, December 24th, 1860."

"That's so weird. It's Christmas."

"I know." Clara grinned.

"Like, think about it. Christmas, 1860. It happens once and then it's gone. It'll never happened again. Except for you two. You can go back and see days that are dead and gone, a hundred thousand sunsets ago." Rose rambled.

"We can see Shakespeare as he's writing Macbeth, or Freddie Mercury as they record Bohemian Rhapsody. Hell, we can meet Queen Victoria and make her say stuff that would've never happen then. It's not a bad life, eh?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"It's better with her. Consider me joining." Rose grinned as Clara went to open the door.

"Woah! Woah! Hold on! Where do you think you're going?" The Doctor asked.

Clara looked at him in confusion. "Out there, where the action is."

"Look, you…um…" He trailed off.

"What?"

"Clara, I like adventures as much as the next man, if the next man is a man who likes adventures. Even so, don't get reckless."

"What do you mean? I'm not." Clara chuckled.

"Clara, there's a whole dimension in this box, but there's only room for one…me."

Clara's jaw dropped incredulously. "Wait a second! You just raved about meeting people long dead like a history teacher on ecstasy."

"Do you know what you need? You need a hobby."

"I really don't." She laughed.

"Better yet, another relationship. Come on, you lot, you go bananas over relationships. You're always writing songs about them or going to war or getting tattooed. Why do you even get tattooed? What's the point of getting tattooed-"?

"Doctor." She stopped his rambling with a shake of her head. "I'm fine."

"I just…felt…I, I had to…say something." He stuttered with a blush.

"I know, and I appreciated it."

"Because I worry if something happens to you, Clara."

"I know. I feel the same too."

He blinked. "So, can I stop now?"

"Please do." She giggled.

He looked down in embarrassment. "I was just going to say that going out there dressed like that may be a bad idea."

"What, and you going out with that is a good idea?" She teased.

"Is there something wrong with my jumper?" He asked.

"Mmm." She squinted her eyes and shrugged at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Watch it, missy."

"Excuse me?" She asked in warning.

"Okay, pipe down children."

"Sorry." They said in unison.

Rose shook her head. "Do you have a wardrobe or something in here?"

"Yeah. First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on your left."

"Huh?" Rose blinked.

"I know. He's trying to be impressive." Clara winked before moving to the console.

"I am impressive!" He whined.

"If only. Dear, could you point us to the wardrobe, please?" She asked the TARDIS.

*Beeps* (Sure)

Hologram arrows then appeared, pointing a path out of the room.

"Even the TARDIS is a better guide than you." Clara teased.

"Stop it." He warned.

"Make me." She flirted.

"Is that a dare-"

"Stop it, you two! I swear, you're worse than a couple of horny teenagers." Rose mumbled as she literally pushed Clara out of the room.

"No, we're not!" They blushed in unison.

Sneed was nursing the cut on his head with a damp cloth as he looked through the house. "Gwyneth! Where are you, girl?! Gwyneth?!" A young woman in her mid-twenties, with black hair and dressed in maid clothing came into the room, confused worry across her face. "Where've you been? I was shouting."

"I've been in the stables, sir, breaking the ice for old Sampson."

"Well, get back in there and harness him up."

"Whatever for, sir?"

"The stiffs are getting lively again. Mr. Redpath's grandmother; she's up on her feet and out there somewhere, on the streets. We've got to find her."

"Mr. Sneed, for shame. How many more times? It's ungodly."

"Don't look at me like it's my fault." He said defensively. "Now, come on and hurry up. She was 86, so she couldn't have gotten far."

"What about Mr. Redpath? Did you deal with him?"

He looked down. "No. She did." He said grimly.

"That's awful, sir." She said sadly. "I know it's not my place and please, forgive me for speaking out of turn, sir, but this is getting beyond now. Something terrible is happening in this house, and we've got to get help."

"And we will, dear." He said softly. "But first, we need to that the old lady back here where she can't terrify anyone. Now, stop worrying so much. Get the hearse ready. We're going body snatching." He said, as they walked to the stables.

Sneed gave a worried sigh as he and Gwyneth looked through the streets on their hearse. "Not a sign. Where is she?"

"She's vanished into the ether, sir. Where can she be?"

Sneed gained an idea, making him stop the hearse as Gwyneth looked at him in confusion. "You tell me." He said simply.

"What do you mean?"

"Gwyneth, you know full well." He implored.

"No, sir, I can't." She said uncomfortably.

"Use the sight."

"It's not right, sir." She protested.

"Gwyneth don't make me dismiss you." He said sadly. "We just need to find her."

Gwyneth nodded weakly before closing her eyes and breathing, putting herself in a calm state. "She's lost, sir. Oh, my lord, she's so alone, with so many strange things in her head. But she was excited, about tonight. Before she passed on, she was going to see him."

"Who?"

"A great man. All the way from London, the great, great man."

Sneed furrowed his eyebrows before recognition came across his face. "Of course." He mumbled.

Inside a small, dressing room, an old man sits at a chair in front of a mirror, massaging his pounding head in vain. A helper comes to knock on the open door politely. "Mr. Dickens. Mr. Dickens, sir. This is your call." He says, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as Charles doesn't speak. "Are you quite well, sir?"

"Splendid, splendid. Sorry." Charles mumbles in exhaustion.

"It's your time to go on, sir."

"Ah, yes. Absolutely. I was just brooding." The helper blinks. "It's Christmas Eve. Not a very good time to be alone." Charles said sadly.

"Did no one travel with you, sir? A lady wife waiting out front?"

"Afraid not."

"You can have mine if you want." The helper jokes.

Charles laughs at this. "Oh, I wouldn't dare. I've been rather, let's say clumsy, with family matters. But thank god that I'm too old to cause any more trouble.'

"You speak as if it's all over, sir."

"Oh, no, it's never over. On and on I go, with the same old show. I'm like a ghost, condemned to repeat myself for all eternity."

"It's never too late, sir. You could always think up some new stories."

Charles looked at him sadly. "No, I can't. Even my imagination grows stale. I'm an old man. I've already thought of everything I could ever think. Still, the lure of the limelight is as potent as a pipe, eh?" He chuckles lightly as he rises from his chair. "On with the motley." He clicks his tongue with a wink before moving from the room.

The Doctor was underneath the console, performing minute repairs with his sonic as Rose came into the room, wearing a black frock over a red dress, topped with a black coat and her hair pinned up. "Blimey!" He teased with a laugh.

"You had to laugh!" She giggled.

"Still, it's look good." He nods. "Considering…" He trailed off.

"Considering what?"

"That you're Human." He says like it's obvious.

Rose blinked. "I think that's a compliment. Aren't you going to change?"

"I've changed my jumper." He said.

"Well, it doesn't look any different than the last jumper. Do you have multiple copies of the same jumper?" She admonished.

"No!" He denied before blinking. "I think I've got a navy blue one somewhere…"

Rose shook her head before she and the Doctor looked to see Clara come into the room. She was wearing a black, bowknot gothic dress and a small, black hat with matching roses.

"Okay, it might be a little much, but what do you reckon?" She asked Rose, twirling the dress around.

"You look great!" She complimented. "But I don't think you should be asking me." She said slyly, nodding in the Doctor's direction.

Said man was looking at her with the softest yet the kindliest smile she'd seen on him, making her blush. "You look beautiful." He said softly.

"Thank you." She smiled, before frowning at him. "Are you seriously not going to change?"

"I just said that I've changed my jumper!" He whined.

"It doesn't look like you have." She giggled.

"Thank you!" Rose said, high fiving her.

The Doctor groaned, before standing up. "Come on."

"You two, stay there! You've done this before, so this is mine." Rose said, rushing to the door.

The Doctor looked at they as they shrugged in unison, before he held out his arm for her. "Come along, Clara."

"Sure thing, Doctor." She smiled, taking his arm.

"I tell you what, though. Your dress looks more Victorian than Rose's."

"Hey, watch it!" She warned despite her giggle. "It may not be Victorian, but she looks good in it."

"Yeah." He said, almost dismissively.

"So, why aren't you paying attention?" She asked in confusion.

"Well…I mean…you know…" He stuttered with a blush.

Clara smiled at him softly. "Whoever said you couldn't be sweet?" She questioned rhetorically, kissing his cheek.

"Will you hurry up?!" Rose called impatiently, making them blush.

"Sorry!" They said, hurrying out the door, seeing Rose pressing her shoes into the snow with a dreamy giggle.

"Here we go. History." He said as Rose almost rushed in a faster pace before them as they walked out of a small alleyway into the streets, slightly shivering yet looking in awe at the falling snow. They walked down the street, seeing many people either walking about or riding in coaches, while some were singing Christmas carols. The Doctor walked over to a man selling newspapers and gives him a few coins to grab one. He looked at it before a worried expression came over his face. "I got the flight a bit wrong."

Clara raised her eyebrows at him while Rose just shrugged. "I don't care."

"It's not 1860. It's 1869."

"I don't care."

"It's not Naples."

"I don't care."

"It's Cardiff."

Rose stopped walking, gaining a disappointed face as she blinked. "Right." She mumbled.

Clara leaned into him. "At least this is better than a Russian submarine instead of Vegas." She nearly growled.

"I said I was sorry." He whined, making her giggle. They heard a loud wailing, making them look at the theatre nearby with wide eyes before the Doctor and Clara gained a grin. "Now that's more like it!" He said gleefully as they rushed to the theatre.

Charles stood in front of a large audience, not noticing the dead woman sitting among them as he was telling one of his many stories to their raptured faces. "Now, it is a fact that there was nothing particular at all about the knocker on the door of this house. But let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a knocker but Marley's face." The audience gasped. "Marley's face. It looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look. It looked like…" He trailed off as he saw the dead woman beginning to shine a hazy, blue light. "Oh, my lord, it looked like that!" He said, pointing to the woman, which made the audience turn before they gasped at her. "What phantasmagoria is this?!" He demanded fearfully. The woman then stood up to look at him, then gasped out a breath making blue mist flow out of her which then wailed like a phantom, making everyone in the audience scream and rush out of the theatre in terror. "Stay in your seats, I beg you! It's just a lantern show!" Charles pleaded vainly.

Sneed and Gwyneth rushed into the theatre before looking upon the woman as the blue ghost that began to fly in haste around the large room. "There she is, sir!" She pointed.

"I can see that. The whole bloody world can see that!" He said with wide eyes as they rushed to the old lady.

The Doctor, Clara and Rose came into the theatre, looking at the ghost with wide eyes. "Fantastic." He mumbled before he and Clara rushed to Charles. "Did you see where it came from?"

"Ah, the wag reveals himself, does he? I trust your satisfied, sir!" Charles grumbled.

"Oi! Leave her alone! I'll get them!" Rose said, rushing after Sneed and Gwyneth, who were now carrying the woman out of the theatre.

"Be careful!" Clara called back.

"Did it say anything? Can it speak? I'm the Doctor and this is Clara, by the way." He said to Charles.

"*Scoff* Doctor? You look more like a navy."

"What's wrong with this jumper?!" He whined. They watched as the ghost flew into a gas lamp and disappeared. "Gas. It's made of gas." He said in awe.

"Doctor. Rose." Clara said, making them exchange looks as they rushed out of the theatre.

Rose rushed over to Sneed's hearse as he and Gwyneth were laying the woman inside. "What're you doing?!" She demanded, making Gwyneth step in front to block the sight inside.

"Oh, it's a tragedy, Miss. Don't worry yourself, me and the master will deal with it. The fact is, this poor lady's been taken with the brain fever. We have to get her to the infirmary-"

Rose cuts her off by pushing past her, looking down at the woman with confused pity as she places a hand on her forehead. "She's cold. She's dead. Oh my god, what'd you do to her?" Rose asks.

Sneed comes up behind her with a tissue, placing it down firmly on Rose's mouth as she struggles before the drug takes her into unconsciousness. "What'd you do that for?" Gwyneth asks in shock.

"She's seen too much. Get her in the hearse." Sneed orders, making Gwyneth move to pick up her legs. They place her inside and close the door, missing Clara looking at them in worried anger.

"Rose!" She yells, as her and the Doctor rush over but the hearse is already moving down the street.

"You're not escaping me. Both of you." Charles says. "What do you know about that hobgoblin, hmm? Project on glass, I suppose. Who put you up to it?"

"Not now." The Doctor says sternly as he and Clara move to a nearby carriage. "Oi, you! Follow that hearse!" Him and Clara get inside, Charles rushing behind them.

"You can't do that, sir." The Driver says.

"Why not?"

"I'll tell you why not, I'll give you a very good reason why not because this is my coach!" Charles says in frustration.

"Well, get in then!" Clara retorts, making Charles get in with slight shock. "Hurry up!" She says, making the Driver move the coach after the hearse.

"Come on, you're losing them!" The Doctor says.

"Everything in order, Mr. Dickens?" The Driver asks.

"No, it's not!"

"What'd he say?" The Doctor asks with wide eyes.

"Let me say this first, I'm not without a sense of humour-"

"Dickens?" He asks, a grin spreading across his face which makes Clara roll her eyes.

"Yes?" Charles asks in confusion.

"Charles Dickens? THE Charles Dickens?"

"Should I remove the gentleman and the lady, sir?"

"Charles Dickens, you're brilliant, you are. Completely, 100% brilliant. I've read them all; Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and what's the other one, the one with the ghost?"

"A Christmas Carol?"

"No, the one with the trains. The Signal Man, that's it, terrifying. The best short story ever written. You're a genius."

"You want me to get rid of them, sir?"

"Uh, no, I think they can stay." He says with a slight blush.

"Honestly, Charles, can I call you Charles? I'm such a big fan."

"A what?"

"Fan, number one fan, that's me."

"How exactly are you a fan? In what way do you resemble a means of keeping oneself cool?" Clara snorts at his words, earning a 'Shut up' look from the Doctor.

"No, it means 'Fanatic', 'Devoted to'. Mind you, I've got to say, that American bit in Martin Chuzzlewit, what's that about? Was that just padding, or what? I mean, it's rubbish, that bit."

"I thought you said you were my fan." Charles mumbles.

"Ah, well, if you can't take criticism. Go on, do the death of Little Nell, it cracks me up-"

"Doctor!"

"What?" Clara glares at him, making him shrink slightly with an embarrassed blush. "No, sorry, forget about that. Come on, faster!"

"Who exactly is in that hearse?"

"Our friend." Clara speaks finally. "She's only 19, she was in our care and now she's in danger."

"Why are we wasting my time talking about dry old books? This is much more important. Driver be swift! The chase is on!"

"Yes sir!"

"Attaboy, Charlie!" The Doctor says gleefully.

"Nobody calls me Charlie."

"The ladies do."

"The ladies don't." Clara chuckles.

"Yes, they do."

"No, they don't."

"Yes, they do. And I know it because-"

"You're his number one fan." Clara rolls her eyes.

Sneed and Gwyneth were carrying Rose into the same room from which Redpath died in, laying her on a cloth covered table, beside two open coffins containing said man and his grandmother. "The poor girl's still alive, sir. What're we going to do with her?"

"I don't know. I didn't plan any of this, did I? Isn't my fault if the dead won't stay dead."

"Then whose fault is it, sir? Why is this happening to us?" She mumbles as she leaves, Sneed following her and locking the door.

"I did the bishop a favour once. Made his nephew look like a cherub even though he'd been a fortnight in the weir. Hey, perhaps he'll do us an exorcism on the cheap." A loud knock is heard on the front door. "Say I'm not in. Tell them we're closed, just…just get rid of them." He then wanders off as Gwyneth goes to the door.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're closed." She says to Charles, along with the Doctor and Clara who were standing behind him.

"Nonsense! Since when did an undertaker keep office hours? The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master."

"He's not in, sir." Gwyneth says before moving to close the door, only to have Charles block it.

"Don't lie to me, child! Summon him at once!" He says sternly.

"I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Dickens, but the master's indisposed."

Clara looks to see a lamp flare on the wall. "Having trouble with your gas?" She asks.

"What the Shakespeare is going on?" Charles mumbled.

Clara looked at the Doctor with confusion. "Did he just-"

"Yes." The Doctor said simply as he moved past Charles and Gwyneth to press up against the wall, under the flaring gas lamp, furrowing his eyebrows as he did.

"You're not allowed inside, sir." Gwyneth protested.

"There's something inside the walls." He says, ignoring her. "Something's living inside the gas."

"Let me out! Open the door! Please, let me out!"

Clara marches past with a stern look. "That's her." She says, containing her anger as she and the Doctor raced through the house and past Sneed.

"How dare you, sir?! This is my house!" Sneed protests.

"Shut up!" Clara yells, silencing him.

"Let me out! Somebody open the door!"

The Doctor arrives at the door where the screaming was coming from, kicking it down to see Rose standing there, struggling against the corpse of Redpath who had a hand grasped over her mouth as his dead grandmother stood by him. "Let her go!" He says sternly, pulling her out of the corpse's grasp and towards Clara who came rushing in with the other three behind them.

"It's a prank. It must be. We're under some mesmeric influence." Charles says with shocked fear.

"No, we're not. The dead are walking." Clara says before looking at Rose, rubbing her shoulder to calm her. "You alright?"

"Yeah, thank you." Rose says softly. "Who's your friend?" She nods to Charles.

"Charles Dickens."

"Okay." Rose shrugs.

"My name's the Doctor. Who are you, then? What do you want?"

"We're failing. Open the rift, we're dying." The bodies say in unison, with ghastly and echoing voices despite the small room. "Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain. Help us." They give a loud gasp accompanied by wailing as two blue spectres exit their bodies and hide away into the gas lamps, while the bodies crumble to the ground.

Sitting in a room, Gwyneth was handing out five cups of tea, while Rose stood in front of Sneed with a look of bitterness. "First of all, you drugged me then kidnapped me and don't think I didn't feel your hands having a quick wander, you dirty old man!" She growls

The Doctor chuckles before receiving a painful elbow from Clara, who shakes her head at him. "Sorry." He whispers, while nursing his rib.

"I won't be spoken to like this!" Sneed says in shock.

"Then you stuck me in a room full of zombies. And if that isn't enough, you swan off and leave me to die! So, come on! Talk!"

"It's not my fault, it's this house!" He says in frustration, making Rose take a breath to calm herself. "It's always had a reputation, being haunted. But I never had much bother until about three months back, and then the stiffs…" He pauses as he sees Charles looking uncomfortable by his choice of words. "The…um…the dear departed started getting restless."

"*Scoff* Tommyrot." Charles denies.

"You witnessed it! I can't keep the beggars down, sir. They walk. And it's the queerest thing, but they hang onto scraps of their memories. One old fella used to be a sexton, almost walked into his own memorial service. Just like the old lady going to your performance, sir, just as she planned."

Charles shakes his head. "Morbid fancy."

"Oh Charles, you were there." Clara says.

"I saw nothing but an illusion."

"If you're going to deny it, don't waste my time, just shut up." Charles blinks at her before lowering his head to leave the room. Clara gains a slightly guilty look and moves to follow.

"What about the gas?" The Doctor asks, looking at Clara's back with a concerned look.

"That's new, sir. Never seen anything like that." Sneed admits.

"Means it's getting stronger, the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through."

"What's the rift?" Rose asks.

"A weak point in time and space, a connection between this place and another. That's the cause of ghost stories, most of the time."

"That's how I got the house so cheap." Sneed agrees. "Stories going back generations, like echoes in the dark or queer songs in the air and this feeling like a shadow passing over your soul. Mind you, it's been good for the business. It's just what people expect from a gloomy old trade like mine." Sneed jokes, making the Doctor chuckle and Rose crack a smile.

Walking through the house, Charles paused by a flaring gas lamp as he felt like he could hear voices, whispering indistinctly inside. He went to lean into the wall before he stopped himself and shook his head. "Impossible." He muttered. Walking into the coffin room, he took off one lid to see Redpath's body, lying completely still. He started messy about and waving his hand above his head as if to feel for wires. Clara stood unnoticed by the door, looking at him with a smirk.

"Checking for strings?" She asked, making Charles jump.

"Wires, perhaps. There must be some mechanism behind this fraud."

"Come on, Charles. Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you to shut up. But you've got one of the best minds in the world. You saw those gas ghosts."

"I can't accept that."

"What does the Human body do when it decomposes?" Clara asks, going into 'Teacher' mode. "It breaks down and produces gas. It's the perfect home for these gas things. They can just slip inside and use it as a vehicle, just like your driver and his coach."

"Please, stop it." Charles says, wiping the sweat of his forehead. "Can it be, Clara, that I have the world entirely wrong? I've always railed against the fantasists. I mean, I loved an illusion as much as the next man, revelled in them, but that's exactly what they were, illusions. But the real world is something else. I dedicated myself to that; Injustices, the great social causes, I hoped that I was a force for good. But now, you tell me that the real world is a realm of spectres and jack-o'-lanterns. In which case, have I wasted my brief span here, Clara? Has it all been for nothing?" He asked.

Clara looked at him kindly. "No, it hasn't. There's just more to learn. Look at it like this; Gas ghosts were people once, and now they want to become people again. Gas is just the road to travel through. Everything has a story behind it, Charles, even illusions. Okay?"

Charles nodded with a shrug. "I guess so."

"Come on, then. Let's get back." She says, leading them out of the room.

Gwyneth lights a gas lamp before moving to dry the used cups and pots, Rose moving behind her to help. "Please, Miss. You shouldn't be helping, it's not right!" Gwyneth protested.

"Don't be daft. That Sneed works you to death." Rose mumbled, yet Gwyneth held out her hand, making her give over the cloth. "How much do you get paid?"

"Eight pound a year, Miss."

"How much?" Rose asks in bewilderment.

"I know. I would've been happy with six."

"So, did you go to school, or what?"

"Of course, I did. What do you think I am, an urchin? I went every Sunday, nice and proper."

"What, once a week?"

"We did sums and everything. To be honest, I hated every second."

"Me too." Rose says, making them giggle.

"Don't tell anyone, but one week, I didn't go, and I ran down the heath all on my own."

"I did plenty of that. I used to go around the shops with my mate Shareen and we used to look at boys." She said with a tongue in her teeth.

Gwyneth looks at her with a blush. "Well, I don't know much about that, Miss."

"Come on, times haven't changed that much." Rose said with a sly smirk. "I bet you've done the same."

"I don't think so, Miss."

"Gwyneth, you can tell me. I bet you've got your eye on someone."

"I suppose…there is one lad." Gwyneth says with a shy smile, making Rose giggle. "The butcher's boy. He comes by every Tuesday. Such a lovely smile on him."

"I love a nice smile. Good smile, nice bum."

Gwyneth looks at her with an intensified blush. "Well, I've never heard the like."

"Ask him out. Give him a cup of tea or something, now that's a start."

"I swear, it's the strangest thing, Miss. You've got all the clothes and the breeding, but you talk like some sort of wild thing."

"Maybe I am." Rose crooks an eyebrow. "Maybe that's a good thing. You need a bit more in your life than Mr. Sneed."

"Oh, that's not fair." Gwyneth mumbles. "He's not so bad, old Sneed. He was very kind to me to take me in, since I lost my Mum and Dad to the flu when I was twelve."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Miss. But I'll be with them again, one day, sitting with them in paradise. I shall be so blessed." She smiles softly. "Maybe your Dad's up there waiting for you too, Miss."

"Maybe." Rose smiles softly, before gaining a frown. "Who told you he was dead?"

"I don't know. Must've been the Doctor." She says shyly.

"My father died years back."

"You've been thinking about him lately, more than ever."

"I suppose so. How do you know all this?"

"Mr. Sneed says I think too much. I'm all alone down here. I bet you've got dozens of servants, haven't you, Miss?"

"*Scoff* No, no servants where I'm from."

"And you've come such a long way."

"What makes you think so?"

Gwyneth looks at her, yet its more distantly as if she could see through her, sending a few chills up Rose's spine. "You're from London. I've seen London in drawings, but never like that. All those people rushing about, half naked, for shame and the noise. The metal boxes racing past and the birds in the sky…no. No, they're metal as well. Metal birds with people in them. People are flying. And you, you've flown so far, further than anyone. The things you've seen. The darkness. The Big Bad Wolf." Gwyneth gasps in fear, backing away into the wall, making Rose gain a guilty look. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Miss."

"It's alright."

"I can't help it. Ever since I was a little girl, my Mum said I had the sight. She told me to hide it."

"But it's getting stronger and more powerful, is that right?" The Doctor asks, making them jump to see him standing in the doorway.

"All the time, sir. Every night, voices in my head."

"You grew up on top of the rift. You're part of it. You're the key."

"I've tried to make sense of it, sir. I consulted with spiritualists, table rappers, all sorts."

"Well, that should help. You can show us what to do."

"What to do where, sir?"

"We're going to have a séance." He says with a grin.

The whole group sat at a big, round table. The Doctor and Clara sat next to each other, with Rose on her side followed by Gwyneth, Sneed and Charles. "This is how Madam Mortlock summons those from the land of mists down in Butetown. Come, we must all join hands." Gwyneth says, grasping Sneed's and going for Charles, who stands up.

"I can't take part in this."

"Humbug?" Clara calls, making him turn back. "Come on, open mind."

"This is precisely the sort of cheap mummery I strive to unmask. Séances? Nothing but luminous tambourines and a squeeze-box concealed between the knees. This girl knows nothing."

"Now, don't antagonize her. I love a happy medium." The Doctor says gleefully.

"I can't believe you just said that." Clara mumbles. "Come on, Charles, we might need you."

Charles takes a sigh before sitting down and grasping the hands next to his.

"Good man." The Doctor says. "Now, Gwyneth, reach out."

Gwyneth takes a breath before gazing upwards, yet not really looking at the ceiling. "Speak to us. Are you there? Spirits, come. Speak to us that we may relieve your burden."

Small, indistinct voices whispering begins to flow through the room.

"Can you hear that?" Rose asks.

"Nothing can happen. This is sheer folly." Charles mumbles in denial.

"Look at her." Rose says, making Charles look at Gwyneth to see her gazing upwards.

"I see them. I feel them." Gwyneth breathes. They all gaze upwards to see a thin haze of blue mist hanging above them.

"They can't get through the rift. Gwyneth, it's not controlling you, you're controlling it. Now look deep. Allow them through." The Doctor said.

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can. Just believe it. I have faith in you, Gwyneth. Make the link."

Gwyneth closes her eyes before lowering her head to gaze at the group. "Yes." She says. After a moment, a blue ghost appears behind her, making everyone look at it in awe.

"Great god. Spirits from the other side." Sneed breathes with wide eyes.

"The other side of the universe." The Doctor says.

"Pity us. Pity the Gelth." It says in unison with Gwyneth. "There is so little time. Help us."

"What do you want us to do?"

"The rift. Take the girl to the rift. Make the bridge."

"What for?"

"We are so very few. The last of our kind, we face extinction."

"Why, what happened?"

"Once, we had a physical form like you. But then the war came."

"War? What war?" Charles asks.

"The Time War." Rose looks at the Doctor, who gives her a sullen look. She looks to Clara, who's looking between the ghost and Gwyneth with squinting eyes. "The whole universe convulsed. The Time War raged, invisible to smaller species but devastating to higher forms. Our bodies wasted away. We're trapped in this gaseous state."

"So that's why you need the corpses." The Doctor concludes.

"We want to stand tall, to feel the sunlight, to live again. We need a physical form and your dead are abandoned. They're going to waste. Give them to us."

"But we can't." Rose mumbles.

"Why not?" The Doctor asks.

"It's not…I mean, it's not-"

"Not decent? Not polite? It could save their lives."

"Open the rift. Let the Gelth through. We're dying. Help us. Pity the Gelth." The ghost disappears into a lamp, making Gwyneth collapse into her seat, breathing hard.

"Oh, my god, Gwyneth." Rose says, rushing out of her seat to help her.

"All true. It's all true." Charles mumbles to himself. Clara gives him a hint of a smile, despite her mind being already occupied.

Rose was tending to a sleeping Gwyneth on a couch, while Sneed and Charles nursed themselves drinks. The Doctor stood watching Rose while Clara was gazing out of the window distantly. Gwyneth breaths softly, making everyone but Clara look at her. "It's all right. You just sleep." Rose says softly.

"But my angels, Miss. They came, didn't they? They need me."

"They do need you, Gwyneth. You're their only chance of survival." The Doctor says.

"I've told you, leave her alone. She's exhausted and she's not fighting your battles." Rose almost growls, making the Doctor roll his eyes. "Drink this." She says, handing her a glass of water.

"What did you say, Doctor? Explain it again. What are they?" Sneed asks.

"Aliens." He says bluntly.

"Like, foreigners?"

"Pretty foreign, yeah. From up there." He points to the ceiling.

"Brecon?"

The Doctor holds back a chuckle. "Close, and they've been trying to get through from Brecon to Cardiff, but the road's blocked. Only a few can get through, even then, they're weak. They can only test drive the bodies for so long, then they have to revert to gas and hide in the pipes."

"Which is why they need the girl." Charles concludes.

"They're not having her." Rose protests.

"But she can help. Living on the rift, she's become part of it. She can open it up, make a bridge, and let them through."

"Incredible. Ghosts that are not ghosts but beings from another world who can only exist in our realm by inhabiting cadavers." Charles sniggers.

"Good system. It might work." The Doctor shrugs.

"You can't let them run around inside of dead people." Rose protests, standing up to face the Doctor.

"Why not? It's like recycling."

"Seriously, though, you can't."

"Seriously, though, I can."

"It's just…wrong. Those bodies were living people. We should respect them, even in death."

"Do you carry a donor card?"

"That's different. That's-"

"It's different, yeah. It's a different morality. You can get used to it or go home-"

"Shut it!" Clara roars, silencing them, making everyone turn to her, who bore a hardened look. "If Gwyneth is going to be the one to help them, then why have you not given her a chance to speak?" She chastises, making the Doctor and Rose look down in guilt.

"Thank you, Miss." Gwyneth mumbles.

"So, what do you want to do, Gwyneth?"

"I've already figured out my own mind, and the angels need me. What do I have to do?"

"You don't have to do anything." The Doctor says softly.

"They've been singing to me since I was a child, sent by my Mum on a holy mission. So, tell me."

"We need to find the rift. This house is on a weak spot, so there must be a spot that's weaker than any other. Mr. Sneed, what's the weakest part of this house, the place where the ghosts are seen mostly?"

"That would be the morgue." He shrugs.

"No chance you were going to say "Gazebo", is there?" Rose quips, making the Doctor chuckle and Clara smile while everyone else looks at her in confusion.

They all arrive into the morgue, a dark and grey room with an ice-cold chill, making them shiver and Rose hug herself for warmth. "Talk about a bleak house." The Doctor mumbles.

"The thing is, Doctor, the Gelth don't succeed. Cause I know they don't. I know for a fact that corpses weren't walking around in 1869." Rose says.

"Time's in flux, changing every second. Your cosy little world could be rewritten like that." He says as he clicks his fingers. "Nothing is safe, remember that. Nothing." He turns to Clara to see she still has that distant look on her. "What's wrong, Clara?" Clara looks at him but doesn't say anything. "You've noticed something, haven't you?"

"There's something about them that doesn't feel right."

"The bodies?" The Doctor asks, getting ready to roll his eyes at her answer.

"No. Gwyneth." This makes him look at her in confusion. "I don't know what, but they just seem to…unconcerned with her helping them. I just…" She looks down with a sad face, making him place his hand under her chin to bring her gaze back up.

"Clara." He says kindly. "You don't have to worry, okay?"

"Just please, be careful." She says softly.

"I'll try to be." He says, placing a kiss on her forehead but before they could embrace in a hug, Charles interjects.

"Doctor, I think the room is getting colder." He says, which was true as it now felt like they stepped into a freezer, the cold starting to burn their nerves. The same voices from the séance came back, indistinctly whispering and growing louder by the second.

"Here they come." Rose says. A lamp flares before a blue ghost flies out of it and into the archway in the room.

"You've come to help. Praise the Doctor, praise him."

"Promise you won't hurt her!" Rose says.

"Hurry, please. So little time. Pity the Gelth."

The Doctor exchanges a look with Clara, now understanding her words as he moves forward. "I'll take you somewhere else after the transfer. Somewhere you can build proper bodies. This isn't a permanent solution, all right?"

"My angels. I can help them live." Gwyneth says softly.

"Okay, where's the weak point?"

"Here, beneath the arch."

"Beneath the arch." Gwyneth says, moving underneath it and Rose rushing towards her.

"You don't have to do this!" She protests.

"My angels." She says with a soft smile.

"Establish the bridge. Reach out to the void. Let us through."

Gwyneth stares ahead distantly. "Yes. I can see you. I can see you. Come."

"Bridgehead establishing."

"Come to me. Come to this world, poor lost souls."

"It has begun. The bridge is made." On this, Gwyneth's mouth opens wide, showing a bright light as more blue spectres fly out and around the room. "She has given herself to the Gelth."

"Rather a lot of them, eh?" Charles mumbles.

"The bridge is open. We descend." The ghost now turns a sinister orange and its voice distorts. "The Gelth shall come through in force."

"You said that you were few in number!" Charles says.

"A few billion and all of us in need of corpses." Unknown the group, a spectre flies into one of the corpses, which rises out of its bed.

"Oh, Gwyneth. Stop this! Listen to your master, this has gone far enough! Stop dabbling, child and leave these things alone, I beg of you!" Sneed orders, moving closer to Gwyneth.

"Mr. Sneed look out!" Rose says but too late. The corpse comes up behind him and grasps tightly onto his neck and snaps it. Another spectre then flies into Sneed's body, who now looks at them with the same cold expression as the corpse.

"I have joined the legions of the Gelth. Come. March with us. We need bodies. All of you, dead. Humanity, dead." Sneed says, his voice now ghastly and echoing.

"Gwyneth, stop them! Send them back now!" The Doctor yells fruitlessly as she does nothing.

"Three more bodies convert them. Make them vessels for the Gelth." The ghost says in unison with the two corpses as more spectres inhabited the rest of the bodies in the room.

"Clara, I…I can't." Charles says shakily. "I…I'm sorry. This new world of yours is too much for me." A wailing spectre flies after him, making him rush from the room as the TARDIS trio rush past a small cell gate and lock it behind them.

"Give yourself to glory. Sacrifice your lives to the Gelth." The corpses now grasp onto the cell door, trying to reach their hands through to grab at them.

"I trusted you. I pitied you!" The Doctor spats.

"We don't want your pity. We want this world and all its flesh."

"Not while I'm alive."

"Then live no more."

"I can't die. Tell me I can't. I haven't even been born yet. It's impossible for me to die. Isn't it?" Rose asks fearfully.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor says sadly.

"But it's 1869. How can I die now?"

"Time isn't a straight line, it can twist and turn into any shape. You can be born in the 20th century and die in the 19th and it's all my fault. I brought you here."

"It's not your fault. I wanted to come."

"What about me? I saw the fall of Troy, World War Five. I pushed boxes at the Boston Tea Party and now I'm going to die in a dungeon…in Cardiff." He adds with disgust.

"It's not just dying. We're going to become one of them." Clara says, making them both look at her. "We'll go down fighting, yeah?"

"Yeah." The Doctor says with a smile.

"Sure." Rose says, also with a smile.

"Together?"

"Oh yeah."

"What better way to go?" Rose quips.

The Doctor takes Rose's hand and looks at her. "I'm glad to have met you." He says kindly.

"Me too." Clara says.

"Me three." Rose says.

The Doctor looks at Clara before taking her hand. "I don't deserve you, Clara." He says softly.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. But I'm exactly what you deserve." Clara says with a smirk, making them chuckle.

Charles rushes through the house and out of the front door, panting as he does before jumping as a blue spectre flies out of the knocker, before it wails, making him look at it in confusion. "Failing! Atmosphere hostile!" It then flew into a street lamp, making Charles' eyes widen.

"Gas. Gas!" He says gleefully, heading back into the house and towards the morgue, turning off all the gas lamps yet turning up the gas output. As the house becomes more flooded, he takes out his handkerchief and places it over his mouth to cover his coughing. He shoves the door to the morgue open, drawing the attention of the trio. "Clara! Turn off the flame, turn up the gas! Now fill the room, all of it, now!"

"What're you doing?!" The Doctor asks.

"Turn it all on! Flood the place!"

"Oh, brilliant!" Clara says gleefully.

"What, so we choke to death instead?" Rose asks sarcastically.

"Am I correct, Clara? These creatures are gaseous." Charles says.

"Fill the room with gas, it'll draw them out of the host. Suck them into the air like poison from a wound." Clara says like a proud teacher.

The corpses all turn towards Charles, who looks at them in terror. "Oh lord. I hope this theory will be validated soon, if not immediately."

"Plenty more!" The Doctor says with a grin as he rips a gas pipe of the wall, making the corpses wail as the spectres are forced to leave and fly around the roof of the room.

"Thank god." Charles breathes before coughing due to the sudden intake of gas.

The Doctor unlocks and shoves the door open, rushing forward towards Gwyneth. "Gwyneth, send them back! They lied, they're not angels."

"Liars?" She asked in confusion, Clara noticing her emotionless voice.

"Look at me. If your mother and father could look down and see this, they'd tell you the same. They'd give you the strength, now send them back!"

"I can't breathe." Rose says, holding her hand to her mouth.

"Charles, get them out."

Charles moves to grab Rose and Clara's hands, but they rip away. "I'm not leaving her!" Rose protests.

"They're too strong." Gwyneth says softly.

"Remember that world you saw, Rose's world? All those people, none of it will exist unless you send them back through the rift."

"I can't send them back. But I can hold them. Hold them in this place, hold them here. Get out." She says pulling out a box of matches.

"You can't!" Rose rushes forward but the Doctor stops her.

"Rose, get out! I won't leave her while she's still in danger, now go!" He says, making her and Charles rush from the room. "Clara, you too! You need to go!"

"No, don't you see?!" Clara asks, making him pause. She rushes to Gwyneth and places a hand on her neck, her motions makes the Doctor's eyes widen in realisation as he moves forward slowly.

"I'm sorry." He says softly to Gwyneth, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you." He grabs Clara's hand and leads her out, rushing through the house and out of the front door, just as the house explodes in flames and cinder. The explosion sends them stumbling to the ground, making Rose and Charles rush back towards them. Rose helps her up while the Doctor stands up with a groan as Charles looks at the building with sadness.

"She didn't make it." Rose mumbles.

"I'm sorry. She closed the rift." The Doctor says.

"At such a cost. The poor child." Charles softly.

"Rose, we did try, but Gwyneth was already dead." Clara says. "She had been for at least five minutes.

"What do you mean?"

"I think she was dead the moment she stood in the arch."

"But she can't have. She spoke to us. She helped us, she saved us. How could she have done that?"

"'There are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.'" Charles quotes. "Even for you, Clara."

Clara nods weakly, the Doctor pulling her into a hug.

"She saved the world. A servant girl and no one will ever know." Rose mumbles.

"We will, Rose." The Doctor says. "We will remember."

Walking back to the TARDIS, the Doctor pulls out his key and unlocks it. "Right then, Charlie boy, we've just got to go into my…um…shed. Won't be long."

"What're you going to do now?" Rose asks Charles.

"I shall take the mail coach back to London. Quite literally post-haste. This is no time for me to be on my own. I shall spend Christmas with my family and make amends to them. After all I've learned tonight, there can be nothing more vital."

"You've cheered up." Clara says proudly.

"Exceedingly!" He exclaims gleefully. "This morning, I thought I knew everything in the world. Now I know I've just started. All these huge and wonderful notions, Clara. I'm inspired, I must write about them."

"Do you think that's wise?" Rose asks.

"I shall be subtle, at first. The Mystery of Edwin Drood still lacks an ending. Perhaps the killer was not the boy's uncle. Perhaps he was not of this Earth. The Mystery of Edwin Drood and the Blue Elementals. I can spread the word, tell the truth!"

"Good luck with it. It was nice meeting you." Clara says, pulling him into a hug.

"Fantastic meeting you." The Doctor says, shaking his hand.

"Bye, then and thanks." Rose says, shaking his hand and kissing his cheek, making him blush slightly, while the Doctor and Clara crook an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, my dear. How modern. Thank you, but…I don't understand, in what way is this goodbye? Where are you going?"

"You'll see, in the shed." The Doctor points inside.

"Oh, my soul. Doctor, it's one riddle after another with you. But after all these revelations, there's one mystery you still haven't explained. Answer me this: Who are you?"

"I'm just a friend, passing through." He says with a smile.

"But you have such a knowledge of the future. I don't wish to impose on you, but I must ask you; My books. Doctor, do they last?"

"Oh yes." He says with a grin.

"For how long?"

"Forever." Charles looks down, giving a small smile. "Right then, shed. Come on, Rose."

"In…in the box? All…all three of you?" Charles stammers.

"Down, boy. Goodbye." Clara says with a wink. They all walk inside and up to the console.

"Doesn't that change history, if he writes about blue ghosts?" Rose asks, as they look at the monitor to see Charles standing there, looking at the TARDIS doors in confusion.

"In a week's time, it's 1870 and that's the year he dies. I'm sorry, but he'll never get to tell his story." The Doctor says sadly.

"Oh, no. He was so nice, even in the end." Clara mumbles.

"In your time, he was already dead. You brought him back to life, Clara. It seems you're getting quite good at it." He says with a kind smile, which makes Clara give him a hug. "Let's give him one last surprise, eh?" He flicks a few switches to pilot the TARDIS away, the three of them laughing at Charles' bewildered expression.

Charles looks on at the disappearing TARDIS before bursting into joyful laughter as he heads back into the busy street.

"Merry Christmas, sir." A man calls.

"Merry Christmas to you." He says back with a beaming grin. "God bless us, everyone!" He yells joyfully, erupting in laughter as he walks down the street.

AN: Thank you so much for reading and please leave a review if you wish. :)