AN: Well, it took a little while to finish this one. For those of you who left a review last time with your thoughts and questions regarding this two parter, well…I couldn't answer them at the time because I didn't really know the answers, truth be told. Especially for little Tim Latimer, he really stumped me as to what I was going to do with him, but what I did with him, oh boy, do I love it, and I hope you do too! XD Just quickly did want to say thank you to your thoughts last time with "42" and an apology that I didn't respond, but hopefully, you get a satisfying answer. Well…at least the part one of it. ;) Please enjoy.

Human Nature

TARDIS

"Get down!" The Doctor ordered, slamming the door shut behind him, Clara and Martha, just as a green energy bolt shot over their heads and slammed into the console, sparks blazing off in all directions. As they got up from their knees, the Doctor grasped Clara by her arms and asked, "Did they see you?"

"No." She immediately answered, and he let her go before they both moved to their friend. "Martha, did they see you?"

"I don't know. I was too busy running." Martha said as the Doctor went up to race around the console, whilst Clara took hold of Martha's arms.

"It's important, Martha. Did they see you?" Clara asked again.

"No, they couldn't have." Martha answered as the TARDIS gave a lurch, and they fell against the hand railing as the Doctor gave out an annoyed groan whilst a small alarm sounded from the console.

"Ugh, they're following us!"

"How?!" Martha asked as she and Clara moved to help the Doctor.

"Stolen technology." He explained. "They have a Time Agent's Vortex manipulator."

"So they can follow us?" Clara concluded, and the Doctor nodded despite the look of fear on his face.

"Wherever we go, right across the universe, and they're never going to stop. Unless…" At that, he paused, trailing off with a distant look in his eyes.

"Doctor?" Clara asked, her simple question making him glance down at her.

"Do you trust me, Clara?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Of course I do." She said earnestly, earning a soft smile for just a moment before the Doctor clacked at the monitor keyboard.

"Because you're going to have to look after me." He said, pulling out a small silver pocket watch, its front face marked with the intricate circles and symbols of his native Gallifreyan language, and he held it up before her eyes. "You need to look after this watch, Clara. This watch is me."

Clara took the watch in her hands, but all she could do was blink. "Nope, I don't get it."

"Clara, those creatures, the Family, they are hunters. They can sniff out anyone, and me being a Time Lord…" He trailed off with a shrug as he continued to race around the console, but for once, Clara did not follow him. "Well...I'm unique." He explained simply. "They can track me down across the whole of time and space. But there is good news." He said before Clara could interrupt. "Martha's fine, considering how many Humans there are, and to the Family, all Humans smell the same. No offence, Martha." He quickly added, but Martha just waved it off. "For you, Clara, they won't be able to sniff you. Your kind of immortality, to them it will be just…weird." He said simply with a wave of his hand. "It won't ward them off, but it will keep them from taking you." He finished explaining, and Clara looked at the watch in her hands.

"But the watch." She said simply, and he visibly gulped. "What is the watch for?"

The Doctor finished his work, and he slowly moved over to stand before Clara. "It's for me." He said simply, but when Clara blinked, he reiterated. "The Family can smell me, but luckily they didn't see any of us, let alone me. But they can still track me, no matter where we go. So, that's why I've got to do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm going to become Human."

Clara's eyes widened at his suggestion, and she gave a sharp intake of breath. "Doctor, please, don't." She pleaded, but all he could do was give a sad expression and a sigh.

"Clara, that Family does not have long to live. Three months at the most. All we just have to do is hide and wait." The Doctor explained.

"Or else?!" Clara demanded, and his sad gaze turned grim.

"It's better than giving them what they want." The Doctor said simply, and without another word, he clacked a command into the monitor, followed by the sound of a large wired headset with suckers being lowered from the ceiling into reach. "Never thought I'd use this. All the times I've wondered."

"What does it do?" Martha asked when Clara didn't.

""Chameleon Arch"." The Doctor answered. "Rewrites literally every single cell in a person's body. And I've just set it to "Human"." He added as he took hold of the headset, spun it around to show a watch shaped clasp in the back, which he then placed his watch into, locking it in with a "Click". "Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything else, Clara. She'll invent a life story for me, find me a time and place and integrate me. That story will involve you, Clara." He said, turning back to Clara. "But I'm afraid you'll have to improvise on your part in it. Same goes for you, Martha." The Doctor added, glancing at Martha.

"Doctor, please don't." Clara pleaded again, but all he could do was shake his head.

"I'm sorry, Clara, but it has to be done." He said grimly, opening his arms out for one final hug, which Clara gave without hesitation. "Forgot to add. The change…it's going to hurt." He said, parting to give her one last kiss before he sighed. "I'll see you soon, Clara." He said before grasping the headset and placing it on, then with a final smile to Clara, he flicked a switch and the system flared on. Clara and Martha stood back, Martha looking on in fright whilst Clara looked on with trembling, wide eyes of worry as the Doctor racked and rocked against the pain in his body, but all they could do was absolutely nothing. All they could do was watch him scream.

Farringham School for Boys, Herefordshire, England
6:00am, 10th November 1913

John Smith took a deep inhaling breath as he awoke from his deep sleep. Once again, it was a dream of that strange man, who looked and sounded so much like himself, yet he was so…different. And his home was so…wild and bizarre. Moving up and shifting to the bedside, he ran a hand over his face to calm himself down, and to wipe away at the thin layer of sweat that the adrenaline induced dream had conjured over himself, but it wasn't until he felt the nightgown clad form shift on the bed that he returned back to reality. The female slowly moved over and up to hug him from behind, and he gave off a warm smile. "Morning." He heard a sleepy voice say before a single kiss was planted on the back of his neck and two small arms wrapped around his front.

"Morning." He said, turning around to return Clara's lazy hug and pressed a single kiss upon her head.

"Had another dream, did we?" She asked, glancing up with a knowing gleam in her wide but tired eyes, and his answer was a smile.

"Sometimes I wonder how that man can run for so long." He remarked, leaning down to plant a kiss upon her lips. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, and Clara nodded.

"Like a baby." She quipped lightly, returning another kiss, and they remained in their embrace for just a short minute, listening to the calming sound of the clock on the wall ticking away, before the door to their bedroom received two light knocks and then opened up. Their maid took two steps into the room, carrying a tray of breakfast in her hands, but she stopped at the sight of the couple still sitting on the bed.

"Pardon me, Mr. Smith, Ms. Oswald. I can come back later when you are dressed." Martha said politely with her head bowed just low enough, but they smiled and waved her words away.

"No, it's all right. Come on in." John said in return, and Martha moved over to place the tray on their small dining table, as the couple got up and helped each other into their dressing gowns. For a small moment, Clara glanced over at Martha, who just nodded with a smile to her, and Clara relaxed her shoulders just a bit in silence. "I was…err…" John Smith did not know whether he wanted to continue that thought, but a small nudge and a nod from Clara told him he could. "Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams." He said, and Martha gave a quick knowing glance to Clara before it slid off into passive obedience.

"What about, sir?" She asked as she drew back the black curtains.

"I dream I'm this…adventurer. This daredevil, a madman. "The Doctor", I'm called." He added after a pause from his little ramble. "And last night I dreamt that you were there, as mine and Clara's companion."

"A teacher, a nurse and a housemaid, sir?" Martha remarked lightly as she poured two cups of tea. "That's impossible."

"I'm a man from another world, though." John Smith said as he strode over to the fireplace mantelpiece. "And then there's this thing." He said, picking up an engraved silver pocket watch. "There's…something he has with this watch." He muttered, before he gave a small scoff and placed it back down again. "It's funny how dreams slip away." He quipped lightly as he turned around and leaned against the mantelpiece. "But I do remember one thing: It all took place in the future. But I can't remember if it was 2007 or 2008. Didn't check in the dream."

"Well, I can prove that wrong for you, sir." Martha said, holding up a folded black and white newspaper, to which John took into his hands. "It's Monday, 10th of November 1913."

"And…" Clara interjected as she picked up a cup of tea and took a sip, "he is completely Human. Official Nurse's diagnosis."

"Mmm, that's me." John agreed with a nod and a smile. "Completely Human." He said as he walked over and passed the paper into Clara's hands, then holding out her chair for her to sit down before he himself took a seat at the table.

"Well, if I may be excused, I must get back to work, sir, ma'am." Martha said with a nod, and they nodded in return as she left the room.

"So, what are you teaching today, Mr. Smith?" Clara asked as they got stuck into their breakfast.

"If I remember correctly, Ms. Oswald," He started with a playful quip that made her smirk, "I am teaching about the Battle of Waterloo." He said, then he gave a small little scoff as he chewed on a mouthful of toast. "Not shure abouuot that, thouough. Clauss gets-"

"Excuse me." Clara interrupted, and he swallowed his mouthful of food with a cheeky smile.

"Sorry." He said, his voice clearer now before he continued. "But the class always gets a bit…shall we say, bored, with history."

"Just give them the right amount of flair, and they won't take their eyes of you." Clara returned, and he chuckled lightly in his chest.

"More like they can't take their eyes off that stupid hat." John said, and Clara smacked his arm lightly. "Ow!"

"It's part of your uniform." Clara admonished. "Do you expect the Headmaster to not wear one?" That got him, and Clara gave a small nod. "Well, there you go." She said as she took another sip of tea, watching as he scratched the small stubble of facial hair on his chin. "You'll be fine for today. You can have a shave tomorrow." She said, and he gave a small whine, but she interrupted him first. "No, if I leave you alone to shave, you'll cut yourself. Again." She added, and John just hung his head a bit lower, to which she rolled her eyes before cupping two fingers under his chin. "Come on. No sulking today. Head up, and smile." She said, and he gave her a smile before kissing her two fingers.

"Head in the clouds?" He remarked, and she snorted.

"If you like." She said as John picked up a small green pear and took a deep bite into it, whilst she just had to restrain the urge to laugh.

"Whaht?" He asked with a mouthful as he saw her trying to fight away a smile, but she just shook her head.

"Nothing." She said, and he rolled his eyes.

"You have a very twisted sense of humor, darling." He said after swallowing, and she just laughed.

8:00am

"Robert De Niro's waiting, talking Italian." John Smith hummed to himself as he walked down an empty hallway in the school, dressed head to toe in his usual teacher outfit, complete with the black hat and coat. "Italian, Italian." Then, he paused, gave a blink and muttered, "Robert De who?" Shaking his head slightly, he began to hum again. "Gimme gimme gimme a man of…no, maybe not." He quickly said with a sharp sniff as he rounded a corner, not noticing Martha and another maid on their knees, scrubbing the tiles by the stairwell.

"Morning, sir." Martha said in greeting, and John glanced at her in confusion for a moment before he gave a quick nod.

"Yes, hi." He said before walking up the stairwell and out of sight, leaving Martha to shrug to herself whilst the other maid just slowly shook her head.

"Head in the clouds, that one." Jenny Holway, a raven haired and a somewhat plump lady, tutted silently. "Don't know why you're so sweet on him."

"He's just kind to me, that's all." Martha said, the two returning to their scrubbing after their moment's break. "Him and Ms. Oswald as well. Not everyone's that considerate, what with me being…" She motioned to her look with one hand, and Jenny smirked playfully.

"A Londoner." She said, and Martha laughed.

"Exactly. Good old London town." She remarked, the two sharing a laugh just as two teenage schoolboys walked past in front of them.

"Err, now then, you two." One of the boys, Jeremy Baines, interrupted, and they paused their work to look meekly down at the floor with their hands in their laps. Both boys were dressed in the typical school outfit, and were raven haired, carrying a single book in one hand whilst the other was in their pocket. Jeremy, in comparison to the other boy, almost seemed like he had a permanent but lazy half smirk on his face, whilst the other, Kane Hutchinson, just looked smugly indifferent. "You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it." He said, and they nodded.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Jenny said, and Jeremy nodded with a sniff, but as he was about to leave, Kane stopped as he glanced at Martha.

"You there, what's your name again?" He asked.

"Martha, sir. Martha Jones."

"Tell me then, Jones, with hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?" He asked playfully before he and Jeremy laughed as they walked out of the room, leaving Martha to take a sharp breath in response.

"That's very funny, sir." She gritted out, whilst Jenny just placed a hand on hers.

"Careful, now. Don't answer back." She said, not entirely in admonishment, but Martha just snorted with a glare at the door the boys had walked through.

"I'd answer back with my bucket over his head." Martha muttered, and Jenny laughed as they returned to their scrubbing.

"Oh, I wish." Jenny quipped, before slowing down her pace just a tad as her eyes went distant. "Just think, though. In a few years' time, boys like that will be running the country."

Martha did not say anything, at least physically, keeping her thoughts to herself. 1913. They might not, I'm afraid.

"Hello?" Clara called, now dressed in a white and grey nurse's outfit as she entered the school's hospital wing. "Hello? Am I the first one in?" She called again, stepping more into the room, passing by two pairs of empty hospital beds on each wall, her eyes focused on one particular bed near the end of the room, where the dark blue curtain had been drawn to block her view until she arrived at the foot of the bed. "Hello?" She asked, and the nurse sitting at the chair beside the bed gave a small jump with a gasp.

"Ms. Oswald." She muttered before chuckling. "You really need to stop doing that." She admonished, and Clara snorted.

"Sorry, Mrs. Redfern." Clara said to Joan, a fellow nurse at the school. She was a rather slim woman, brown of hair, blue eyed, in her mid-thirties and 5ft 5. "I just thought that the lack of nurses were a bit curious is all." She explained, and Joan nodded with a small chuckle.

"There won't be a lot of work for us today, I'm afraid." She said, although her eyes did communicate some amused relief. "Of course, not that I'm complaining." She added with a small wink, but their moment was broken by the quiet boy on the bed giving out a very fake sneeze. "Oh, lord." She muttered, turning back to the kid, who was barely 11 and had dark brown hair, whilst attempting to fake a genuine cold. "You are not sick." She said, noticing Clara out of the corner of her eye rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she watched the kid.

"But I am, Miss." The boy, Robert Jenkins, protested through a sniff. "I got the cold yesterday."

Joan sighed and turned to Clara, who's eyebrows were raised in amusement. "Stubborn little boy, aren't you?" Clara asked, and the boy blinked, his eyes growing a tad wider in nervousness that made her smirk. "I am sure that both mine and Mrs. Redfern's diagnosis is correct in that you are not sick." She said, dropping the smirk into a stern glare. "Mrs. Redfern, what is he really doing here?" She asked, looking at the woman, who gave a sigh of relief at Clara's assistance.

"Robert is missing his family. Specifically, he misses his mother." Joan explained, and Clara gave a slow nod in understanding. Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Joan called, her, Clara and Robert turning to the entrance as it swung slowly open, and a young boy, still only 17 years of age, brown of hair, his eyes a dark brown, and just a few inches taller than Clara herself, but his pace was just a touch stiff, and a little awkward, unsure of himself.

"Pardon me, Ms. Oswald." The boy said, and Clara smiled.

"Latimer!" Clara greeted. "Come on over." She ushered, and as he walked over, she noticed the small envelope that lay in his grasp.

"Just here to deliver a message, Ms. Oswald." Tim explained, and Clara held out her hand.

"For one "Robert Jenkins"?" She asked, noticing with a smirk that Robert dropped his sick act and perked up with a barely contained grin on his face.

"Yes, Ms. Oswald." Tim nodded, passing the envelope into Clara's hands, who checked the sender's name with a snort.

"As we have deduced, Mrs. Redfern, not sick." She said, sharing a chuckle with Joan as she passed the envelope to Robert. "I'm sure the cold will pass in a matter of seconds." Clara teased, Robert growing slightly red in embarrassed excitement as he tore open the envelope and started to read the letter in silence. "Well, if you don't mind, Mrs. Redfern, I'm going to have to escort Mr. Latimer back to his classes." Clara curtsied playfully, earning a laugh from Joan as she waved in consensual agreement, and Clara took Tim by the arm and led him from the room. "How is everything going along, Tim?" Tim, finally letting himself relax, just gave a shrug. "Now now, Tim, don't slouch. It's bad for your spine." Clara teased, and Tim chuckled. "Come on. Spit it out."

"It's nothing." Tim tried to dismiss the topic, but Clara just sighed.

"Timothy, you are very clever, but why are you hiding it?" Clara asked, and Tim didn't answer. "You're in the top ten of your class, but you should be in the very top."

"It's just…" Tim trailed off, but Clara picked up on it.

"You're trying to avoid classmate mockery, eh?" Clara finished, and Tim nodded, but he didn't raise his head. At that, Clara brought them to a stop in an empty corridor, turned to him and put her fingers under his chin. "Come on. Chin up." She reassured. "No one should have to hide themselves." Then, without warning, she leaned in with her head tilted to the side. "Oh, and by the way, Tim," She started as her smile went very mischievous, "that act between you and Hutchinson? It doesn't work on me." She said, giving a wink as Tim's eyes went wide in fear. "Off you go to class, then. Chop chop." She ushered, and Tim waved a farewell with a nervous smile as he left. When he was gone, Clara's smile faded into a sad look. "Only one more month." She muttered to herself before she straightened up, took a breath and then left for the hospital wing again.

3:30pm

John Smith walked out of his now empty classroom, his most recent class now finished yet he needed some books for study from the school library. Moving through the corridors of the school and respectfully moving past anyone that was in front of him, he arrived in the library, told the Librarian of the books he required, and then was about to walk out with his arms carrying the armada of tomes when he heard two voices chattering together nearby, and one of them unabashedly made him smile as he recognized the voice. Stepping through the library door, he heard Clara give a snarl at his sudden entrance. "Excuse me, sir, would you please mind where you're-"

John turned so his head could poke up from behind the books, and he saw Clara's wide eyes blink at him. "Rude." He admonished simply, and she let out a chuckle.

"Mr. Smith." She said with a gulp, and he just laughed.

"Oh, you're fine, Ms. Oswald." He said, before one of his steps rattled the books and the book at the very top fell just past her head to land on the floor between her and Joan. "Oh, sorry." He said, Clara quickly kneeling down to pick up the book.

"Here, let me help." Clara said, holding out her arms, but as he went to protest, she raised her eyebrows in silence, and he relented. "Come on. Half and half." She said as John gave her half of the book stack, whilst Joan just watched them with raised eyebrows of amusement.

"So, uh…how was Jenkins?" He asked, and Clara snorted.

"He had a "Cold"." She said before shaking her head. "Not really, he just missed his mother more than anything."

"Oh, poor little lad." He quipped lightly, and Clara shook her head with a laugh.

"Stubborn little lad, more like." She added before glancing down at the books in her grasp. "I appear to be holding your books."

"And?" John Smith retorted, earning a squinting glare from Clara that made him shrink back with a gulp. "Yes-yes, so you are. Sorry." He quickly said, moving to take the books but Clara stepped back with a laugh.

"No, Mr. Smith, lead the way." She said with a quick rising tease of her eyebrows, and he wordlessly stepped aside to let her through, but she paused for just a moment as she looked back to Joan, who just rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Go on. I'll just finish up in the hospital wing." She said with a shrug, and Clara briefly looked at her with a guilty face.

"Sorry." She said, and Joan just waved her off.

"Go on." She motioned, and the two of them hurried off down the corridor and out of sight. When they were gone, Joan rolled her eyes to herself again but this time with a chuckle. "Idiots." She muttered under her breath as she went into the library.

"Did he actually just miss his mother?" John reiterated as they reached the flight of steps leading to the 3rd Floor.

"Yes. But he did receive a letter this morning, so he's a lot more chipper." Clara said, and he chuckled lightly in his throat as they stopped just before they could start down the stairs, staring at the notice board hung on the wall. On it was a particular paper about an "Annual Dance". "Have you seen this?" Clara asked, nodding to the paper, missing John's expression quickly growing nervous. "Annual dance, tomorrow night." Clara muttered before chuckling lightly to herself. "It's been a while since I have danced." With a blink, she looked at John and added, "Literally, not…you know." She said, and he quickly nodded at her. "Do you think you'll go?" She asked, looking at John, and her faintly inquisitive gaze turned amusingly curious as he began to stutter and blink in haste.

"Well…I should imagine…err…if I did go…um…well I-I-I'd-I'd take you b-but…I mean, there's no reason why you shouldn't-we shouldn't." He stuttered, taking a gulp and a step backwards as Clara blinked with a smile. "I mean...I-I-I never thought y-you would want to, not-not that you wouldn't." He quickly added as Clara's eyebrows raised up in further amusement. "Um…wh-why-why are you staring at me like that for-"

"The stairs." Clara nodded to his back, her grin growing tenfold.

"What?"

"They're right behind you." She teased in a sing-song voice, and right on cue, John missed a single step and went tumbling down the small flight of stairs in a flying mess of papers and books, landing at the bottom with a groan. "Oh, dear." Clara said with a laugh, earning a half-attempted glare in return.

"Clara, help me." He groaned, and she rolled her eyes.

"It's just a tumble, you big baby." She retorted, moving down the steps to place the books down on the ground before she wrapped her arms through his and hoisted him up to lean against the wall.

"Ms. Oswald." She heard a familiar voice call as a pair of feet came rushing down the corridor, and Tim paused at the sight of papers and books strung everywhere, including the odd sight of a groaning teacher. "Uhh…" Tim tried to say, and Clara shook her head lightly at him.

"Nurse Redfern wants me to hurry up?" She deducted, and Tim nodded. "Well, I'm afraid she'll have to wait." She muttered as she started to assist John in walking again. "Say, Latimer, can you take these books to Mr. Smith's office with us? I have nursing duties to attend to." She said, giving him a small apologetic look, but Tim just shrugged it off with a smile.

Going to the front door of her little room in the servants quarters, just a five-minute walk from the school, Martha equipped her coat, hat and gloves, grasped her bike and went down the stairs to exit the school. After basking in the warm midday sun, despite the chilly air, she hopped onto her bike and cycled right away on her two-minute bike towards an old, abandoned barn, one which the trio had acquired and fixed up with the old girl's help upon their arrival. When she came up to the barn's entrance, she briefly laid her bicycle against the barn wall to unlock the door, and she opened it before stepping back for just a moment so she could bring her bicycle inside and then lock the door. As she did, she glanced into the corner, and there she was, still vigilant and humming away as she always did, was the TARDIS. Martha gave out a soft smile at the sight of the blue box, and without a word, she walked up to her as she took out her TARDIS key, unlocked the doors, and stepped inside, immediately being greeted by the TARDIS warming up the console room for her, and turning the lights on to a soft glow, enough for her to see through the room. "Hello." She greeted, but her smile, like always, dropped just a tiny bit when the TARDIS did not respond. She knew that the TARDIS couldn't talk in this state, however. Low power and all. "Hope you're okay." Martha added as she removed her wool hat and gloves, and walked up to the console. She paused upon reaching it, for her gaze fell upon a large scorching mark and ruined controls on the panel that faced the doors. "We'll get that fixed for you…eventually." Martha muttered under her breath as she patted the console. Walking around the console, she saw that the monitor was still lit, but unused, before she stopped and glanced up, seeing the Chameleon Arch suspended from the ceiling. Like everything else in the TARDIS, it just sat there, silent and unused. "Become Human." Martha muttered with a half smirk, as her mind went straight back, remembering the entire moment of what had happened in this very room. The watch, the tumbling of the TARDIS, Clara's worried and horrified face as she watched the Doctor, screaming in utter agony and unable to help. To distract her from her thoughts, Martha reached over to grasp the monitor and pull it into view, and she pulled up that single video file that she had watched many times over, but always and only when she was distressed. Appearing on the screen was Clara, but only Clara, who tried to convey the outward look she always did, happy, proud, and confident, yet her eyes-only conveyed worry, anxiousness, and solemn sorrow.

"This working?" Clara muttered as she tapped the camera, before she just shrugged and sat back into the Captain's chair. "Martha, if you're watching this, then we're already laying low in our…roles now. But I wanted to make this for you, since we…we won't be able to talk very much, I'm afraid." Clara said with a guilty look in her eyes. "Okay, first things first, I'm very sorry. You already know we'll be living in 1913, and…" Clara closed her eyes with a sigh, "let's just say black people don't get it very kindly then. The Doctor did his best to keep you in his bio, on the good side that is, and I can do my best as well, but we can't stick up for you against anyone else who says…rude comments about you. So, for that, I am very sorry." Clara concluded.

Martha just gave a smile with a slight chuckle at Clara's words. "I'll pay you back tenfold." Martha quipped lightly before she fell silent again.

"Okay, next up, the watch and the TARDIS. I…we need you to keep an eye on the TARDIS. You may not know, but servants and maids can't live very far away from those that they are…serving. I managed to pick a small old, abandoned barn for the TARDIS, and she'll be stowed away there under low power, so she can't be traced or anything, but she still needs to be looked after. Just keep an eye out for her, and make sure she's okay. The watch you won't need to worry about. I'll be keeping an eye out on it. For the Doctor, he just placed a perception filter on it, so the Human him won't think anything of it. To him, it will just be a watch. He would only open it himself if he has been convinced that there is more than meets the eye." Clara said, but for a brief moment, she glanced off to the side in confusion before she shook her head. "Anyway, when he does open it, and IF he remembers to do it, the Doctor might be able to fool the Family for a little while. Think of it as like…a sort of…magician's ventriloquism, but for the nose. That would buy us a little time, so the watch…its fine." Clara concluded with a shrug. "Also, don't let the Doctor eat pears, okay?" She asked rhetorically. "If there's a piece of food he hates more than anything, it's pears. You can't let him wake up in three months' time and taste that, okay, Martha? Do your best?" At that, Clara paused with a side eye glance. "I'll…try my best as well." She said obviously with a shrug that quickly turned into a sly smile. "When I remember to do it." She added with a chuckle. "Now, the rest you can figure out for yourself. Don't hurt anyone, don't attract too much attention and-"

"No interfering." Martha said in unison with Clara, giving out a chuckle as she did.

"Final point, just before I go, Martha…thank you." She said earnestly with a warm smile. "For everything. I'll try my best to remind you, but thank you." Clara gave one last smile with a quick wink before she reached a hand over and the video file stopped.

All Martha could do was give a small smile that turned sad the more that time passed on in silence within the TARDIS. "If only this would all be over." Martha muttered before she patted the TARDIS console, gave a single kiss upon a panel and then left the room, locking the doors behind her as she went. Placing her gloves and hat back on, she took her bike out of the barn, locked the door behind her and cycled all the way back to the servants quarters. After she placed her bike back inside, she left the room, walked back towards and inside the school, and was moving in the direction of the stairs as she almost literally ran into Mrs. Redfern. "Oh, sorry, Mrs. Redfern."

Joan just shook her head with a small smile. "No need." She said simply before her smile went sly. "Word travels fast around here, does it not?" She asked, but Martha only blinked with a small shake of her head. "Mr. Smith. Apparently, he did a right awkward cluster with Ms. Oswald and tripped down the stairs."

"He what? "Martha blurted before she could stop, and she immediately followed it up with an embarrassed flush. "Sorry." She added, but Joan remained impassive.

"Thank goodness for Ms. Oswald, I'll say. Had the wits to take him back to his room and not the hospital wing." Joan said before she walked wordlessly away, and Martha had to restrain herself to not sprint up the stairs towards the 3rd Floor, but in her worry, she did not take notice of her hastened pace either.

"Ow." John groaned out in a whine, and Clara resisted the urge to flick him as she tended to his head.

"Stop it. Me and Nurse Redfern get boys causing less fuss than you." Clara admonished, watching from the corner of her eye as Tim continued to place the books and papers in a neat stack on Mr. Smith's desk, stationed at the window of the room with its back to the dining table and black leather couch. "Everything all right there, Latimer?" Clara asked.

"Yes, Ms. Oswald." Tim responded.

"Really, you didn't have to-"

"Mr. Smith, hush." Clara interrupted as the door to the room swung open, and Martha raced inside with an anxious look on her face.

"Is he all right?" Martha asked, but Clara held up a hand.

"Martha." Clara simply nodded to the door, making Martha trot on back to knock on it before she went back to her previous position.

"But he is all right?" Martha asked, and Clara just nodded.

"It was just a tumble, that's all." John dismissed, whilst Clara just shot a raised eyebrow glance at Martha.

"After stuttering like a fool for my amusement." She whispered into his ear, snickering lightly to herself as he squirmed in his seat.

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha reminded, and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Yes." She said simply.

"Excuse me, Mr. Smith, sir." Tim interrupted from the desk, holding up a single black book with no writing on the front or back. "Where does this belong?" He asked, but John just rolled his eyes.

"Well, might as well do it now." John muttered as he motioned Tim forward.

"Do what now?" Clara asked as Tim passed the book into John's hands.

"Martha, Latimer, I'm afraid this might be a little bit private." John said to Martha and Tim, both of which immediately nodded and left the room. "Clara, you know those dreams that I have, about the Doctor?" Clara nodded with a slightly furrowed look even as she was trying to restrain the excitement from her eyes. "I have…err…a little while ago, I started to write them down in the form of fiction. And I-I-I just thought that…you might be interested." He stuttered, holding the book up to her as she stepped around in front of him. "Well…if-if-if you want to, that's all." He quickly clarified with a sniff.

Clara took it with a calm but amused smile. "Who's to say that I don't want to?" She retorted rhetorically as she opened it onto page one. All it bore was a title, "The Journal of Impossible Things", and underneath it was the outline of a box that said "Police Public Call Box" with a single bulb on the top. "A box." She said with a smirk as John drew up a chair so she could sit down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Ah, the box." John said with a chuckle. "It's always there, like a…magic carpet. It transports me to all sorts of faraway places. But…" He started with a single finger pointed to the ceiling, "I'm terrifically terrible at flying it." He finished, and Clara had to restrain her urge to laugh out loud, instead just giggling in wondrous amusement. Clara flipped the page, and saw a portrait of herself, surrounded by nothing but blank page. "That would be his muse, if you will." John explained with a sly smile, and Clara giggled.

"What kind of muse?" Clara asked with half a sly smile, and he just gave her a look.

"Careful." Was all he said, and she just grinned at him, flipping the page over to see a portrait of a clockwork droid, surrounded by scribbles that just made Clara's eyes widen for a moment as she blinked repeatedly.

"You need to tidy your handwriting, John." She said, and his jaw dropped as he looked at the journal.

"My handwriting is not…" He trailed off however as he tried and failed to read the writing, and just gave a simple, "Ah."

Clara shook her head slightly as she flicked another page, and her smile dropped a bit as she saw a picture of…something very familiar, just staring back at her with black eyes, and underneath the picture was a single phrase. ""You don't control me or anything"-"

""With blood in its heart"." John finished for her. "Something Clara said once to a metal man." He explained to her, and she hid a sudden but bitter pain inside her with a smile to John. Flicking the page, she saw the portraits of all eleven of his faces, starting with the old grumpy grandfather turned gentleman, and ending in the man sitting right next to her. "Ah, you see, this man can change his face when he dies." John explained to Clara, but her eyes were fixed upon one particular portrait in the list. "Sometimes I think how magical life would be if stories like this were true." John admitted after a moment. "Men changing their faces, travelling all over the universe, meeting…all sorts of creatures."

"If only." Clara said with a smile to John, but her eyes kept glancing back to the portrait on the page.

"Tell you what, keep on reading it if you want. I seem to have forgotten a book from the library." John said as he stood up to move to the door, but not before missing Clara rolling her eyes.

"Another one?" Clara retorted, and he just chuckled at her. "Don't trip down the stairs again." She warned, and he just winked at her as he opened the door.

"You have my word." He said simply as he closed the door behind him.

As soon as he did, Clara's smile dropped into a sad, solemn gaze as she glanced back down at the journal, and her eyes landed back onto the portrait. This one sat right in between two of the Doctor's previous faces. On its left was the brown haired curly Victorian gentleman, whilst on its right was the bald big eared northerner that she had first met. But this one, right in the middle, was…old. Older than his first face, his eyes looked so very tired and his scruffy grey hair and beard incredibly unkempt. Each face had written underneath it, a small line, something Clara knew those faces said quite a lot. The Doctor's last face had "Fantastic" under it, his third had "Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow", and his fourth had "Would you like a jelly baby?". But this one just had two words, "No more". Why? Clara thought to herself as she laid a single finger upon the portrait. Why doesn't he talk about you?

5:00pm

"Latimer." Kane called through the dormitory door before he swung it open, looking inside to see Tim sitting on his bed, his back up against the left wall, just minding his own business absentmindedly. He was alone, however, and it allowed Kane to drop his smug façade. "Ah, Latimer." He greeted, and Tim glanced up with an over exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Yes, it's me." He quipped dryly, moving past the long table and backless chairs in the middle of the room to toss the small black textbook in his hand onto Tim's bed, who picked it up and began to read.

"Latin translation?" Tim deducted.

"Afraid so." Kane retorted with a slight hint of humor. "I want it done by morning."

"Yes sir." Tim responded, and Kane gave a shiver of disgust.

"Yuck." He muttered as he moved to sit down on his own bed alongside the far most wall. "And no mistakes." He added when Tim gave a chuckle. "I want it in my best handwriting." He said dramatically with his public smug voice, and Tim chuckled harder.

"Sure, sure." Tim said simply as Kane picked up a small envelope, carefully tearing it open for the letter inside. "Your father?" Tim guessed, and Kane shook his head.

"No. It's Edward the Longshanks." Kane retorted, and Tim blinked.

"How do you know-"

"Mr. Smith's class." Kane answered, and Tim slowly nodded. "He's the only good teacher in this school." He admitted, and Tim just shrugged.

"I swear that man is a little bit…um…odd." Tim admitted, and Kane looked at him with a frown.

"How'd you mean?"

Tim paused, letting the book drop on the bed for a moment as he gazed out of the window next to Jeremy Baines' empty bed, where the Sun was already beginning to set and would soon be dark. "It's like he…left the kettle on, for a lack of a better term. He knows he has something to get back to, but he can't remember what."

Kane thought for a moment, but only shrugged and just gave one response in the form of a question. "To get married to Clara?" He asked, and Tim snorted.

"If that was the answer, he would be more agitated than that." Tim retorted, and Kane smirked as he returned to reading the letter.

"Listen. Father says he's been promoted. A new position in-"

"Africa." Tim finished, earning an eye roll from Kane.

"Latimer, I'm trying to read it." He retorted, earning a retorting eye roll from Tim in return.

"Sorry, sir."

"As I was saying, father has been given a promoted position in Africa. That means more money. I can just imagine myself ending up in a better school." Kane muttered, but Tim snorted.

"You won't."

"And there's my dream gone." Kane sighed, despite his smirk.

"Besides, your father should enjoy his time there." Tim said. "My uncle had a six-month posting in Johannesburg. Said it was the most beautiful countryside on God's Earth."

"I'm sure my father will enjoy his time there, then." Kane said, before blinking. "Wait, which God are we-"

"We are not starting that again." Tim retorted in a groan, earning a laugh from Kane. Their banter was interrupted, however, as the dormitory door swung open and Jeremy stepped into the room.

"Right, well, never mind all that, then." Jeremy muttered as he walked past the table and nonchalantly tossed a textbook onto his bed.

"Math was dull, I expect?" Kane asked, sliding back into his façade, which Tim did as well, keeping his head down and remaining timidly quiet.

"Dreadfully." Jeremy retorted with his half smirk plastered onto his face. "Up for some beer?"

Kane blinked in pleasant surprise, even though he did not require his façade for it to be genuine. "You've got beer?" He asked, quickly giving a wicked glance to Tim when Jeremy couldn't see.

"No, but…" Jeremy interrupted before Kane could groan out loud, "Baxter has hidden a secret supply in Blackdown woods."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Kane retorted, and Jeremy immediately moved to the window and latched it open. "And make sure the Bursar's down the pub before you go past his window."

"A bottle for everyone, is it?" Jeremy asked as he stepped through the window to hang outside.

"And none for the filth." Kane responded with his smug smile. "And hurry back, Baines, I'm parched." Jeremy just saluted in return before he hopped out of sight. ""Filth"?" He muttered with a glance to Tim, who just shrugged as they let their façade's drop.

"How exactly would I be receiving beer, might I ask?" Tim asked.

"Simple." He responded as he picked up a small black bottle from his bedside table with a wag of his eyebrows. "Nobody checks the nightly refreshment." Kane quipped simply and Tim just shrugged.

"A little beer would be nice." Tim muttered, and Kane sighed.

"I can't always bail you out when you have your moments." Kane reminded, and Tim nodded.

"I know."

"So, what is it now?" Kane asked, and Tim just stared at the wall for a moment.

"It's…it's to do with Ms. Oswald."

Kane's eyebrows went up. "I think if something went wrong with Ms. Clara, the whole school would freak out."

"It's not something wrong in the now, per se." Tim responded, and Kane remained silent. "It's…every time I see her, I get flashes of something that hasn't happened yet. Yesterday, I saw her, but she was…standing alone, in this…awfully dark place, and…she had a knife in her hands. There was blood on it, and on her, but…I couldn't tell if it was hers, or someone else's."

"Did you see her bleeding?" Kane asked, but Tim shook his head.

"Like I said, the place she was in, it wasn't just dark, it was almost pitch black. There was no light, no Sun, not even a moon. There was nothing." Tim finished solemnly, earning a sigh from Kane.

"All right, that's enough." Kane said, waving a hand so Tim could toss his Latin textbook back over, and he caught it in one hand. "Start thinking of something better. We can't have you becoming a depressed oddball, now can we?" He quipped, and Tim was rather glad of the easing of tension, if only for a while.

8:00pm

"Bloody hell, it's freezing out here!" Martha exclaimed, wrapped head to toe in warm clothes as she walked outside the local pub with two pints in each hand, sitting down at an empty table with Jenny and she gave over one the pints to her before she took a drink. "Why can't we just have a drink inside the pub?" She asked, and Jenny rolled her eyes slightly.

"Now don't be ridiculous." Jenny admonished lightly, herself also dressed head to toe in warm garments. "You do get these notions. It's all very well, those Suffragettes, but that's London, and it's miles away." She said as she took a drink.

"But don't you just want to scream sometimes?" Martha asked rhetorically. "Having to bow and scrape and behave? Don't you just want to tell them?"

Jenny blinked, for a moment, then just shrugged. "I don't know. Things must be different in your country."

"They are, yeah." Martha admitted. "Thank God I'm not staying."

"And there you go again." Jenny pointed out nonchalantly, earning a laugh from Martha.

"Patience!" Martha retorted with a smile. "One more month, and I'm as free as the wind."

"But what would you do in London?" Jenny asked, and Martha stopped with a blink.

"Mmm." Martha muttered under her breath. "Probably just relax for a bit, catch up with family again. Then…I don't know." She said, despite her thoughts being on a specific blue box. "I'll figure it out." She said with a dismissive wave, and Jenny just rolled her eyes again.

"You bloody mad idiot." She admonished, and Martha laughed.

"I know." She agreed with a nod as she took a drink. After she placed the mug down, she looked up and saw Joan running up to the pub, coming to a gasping stop beside their table. "Matron? Are you all right?" Martha asked.

"Did you see it?" Joan asked with wide eyes, making Martha's eyebrows furrow. "There was something in the woods."

"What do you mean?" Martha asked as Joan looked back up at the sky, along with a confused Jenny, whilst Martha just gazed off at the blackened sky over Blackdown woods. "What did you see?" For just a split second, Martha saw a green light flash over the woods, but it was gone in an instant.

"Hello!" They heard a beaming voice call to them, and the three turned to see John and Clara, walking arm in arm right up to them from the door of the pub, also literally covered in thick clothes. "Bit cold to be standing around outside in the dark, eh?" Clara asked, and Joan took a breath to calm herself.

"I saw this…this light, in the sky." Joan said, but she then blinked as she looked up, and pointed towards the sky. "There. Up there. Look in the sky."

The group turned to look at the sky, and they saw a single comet soaring far above them, before it disappeared behind the treetops of Blackdown woods. "Oh, that's beautiful." Jenny muttered, and the rest of the group silently agreed with her.

"All gone." John said with a nod. "Commonly known as a "Meteorite". Just rocks falling to ground, that's all."

"It looked like it came down in the woods." Joan said with a blink, but Clara placed her hand on Joan's arm, and Joan looked to see her shaking her head slightly.

"No. It looked like it did, yes, but they never come down that close. Nothing left but a cinder." Clara explained, but Joan furrowed her eyebrows at her.

"How did you-"

"Joan," Clara interrupted, "I am sleeping with a teacher."

Joan sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, now you say that, I'm not surprised you do know about…metetrities." Joan tried, but it sounded wrong.

"Maybe we can tell you more about them on the walk back." Clara offered, and Joan agreed, taking Clara's free hand. "Do you two ladies want to come along as well?" She asked, the trio looking at the two maids, but they both shook their heads.

"No, we'll be fine." Martha said. "But thank you." John and Joan nodded in farewell, but as they turned their heads, Martha saw Clara give a small wink and a smile that Martha returned before the trio walked away and disappeared from sight.

"Where is he?" Kane asked three fellow students as they handed out another round of cards, but he kept one sly eye on Tim, who sat at the foot of his bed polishing his and Kane's shoes, but no one other than his secretive glances bore him any mind. "Promises us beer then vanishes into the night." The response to his dry wit came in the form of three knocks at the window, and Kane gave out a sigh. "That's him. Let him in." He said to one of his fellows, who placed down his cards on the table, got up from his seat, moved across the room and opened the window, and Jeremy climbed back into the room. "Baines, you dolt." Kane quipped dryly as he placed his own cards down and stood up just as his fellow student retook his seat, and he turned to look at Jeremy. It took him a slight moment to realize that there was something…odd about Jeremy. His gaze was too…inquisitive and his half smile almost seemed feral now. "I thought you'd been caught by the rozzers." Kane added after a small moment of silence, but he could not give a curious glance over to Tim to see what he was thinking, for Jeremy was staring directly at him. "Well then? Where is it, man? Where's the blessed beer?" Kane asked.

"There was no beer." Jeremy responded, and Kane had to withhold the urge to blink at the utter lack of emotion in his voice. It almost sounded as if Jeremy was just saying the words, like reading them from a piece of paper, rather than speaking them from his own mind. "It was gone."

In order to not let Jeremy in on his thoughts, Kane gave out a sharp sigh in response. "Damn it all, I've been waiting. Pretty poor show, Baines, I have to say." But yet again, Jeremy said no natural retort in response. He just tilted his head to his left and gave a deep sniff, and Kane found that this man's new behavior was really starting to make him feel dreadfully uncomfortable. "What's the matter with you?" Kane asked, but when Jeremy didn't respond, he decided to reiterate. "Caught the sniffles out there?"

Jeremy's response was once again too quick to be natural, but Kane did notice that his expression did not change, not even once, throughout their…rather uneasy conversation. "Yes, I must have. It was cold. Very cold." He added, and he glanced off to his right at something that Kane could not see.

Kane gave out a well-practiced "Hmmph". "Well, don't spread it about." He retorted dryly. "I don't want your germs." Kane turned to his left, but just before his gaze landed on his fellows at the table, he saw Tim paused in his shoe polishing, and his eyes were wide, and his face was very pale. Restraining his urge to clench his teeth, Kane fully turned around to look at his fellows, and said, "Come on, chaps, maybe tomorrow. Jackson's got some beer in the pavilion. Until then, we might as well get some sleep. Including you, Baines." Kane said as he turned back to Jeremy, whilst he heard his fellows behind him packing the cards away and getting ready for their nightly sleep. Kane saw Jeremy sniff once more before he figuratively tore his gaze away from Tim and back onto Kane, and then he smiled a half smile again.

"Yes, of course. Good idea." Jeremy said simply before he walked back over to his bed, and to Kane's further puzzlement, fell asleep in his uniform, without even taking off his own shoes. After Kane made sure the others weren't looking, he glanced over at Tim and gave him a reassuring smile, which did ease the uncomfortable tension from Tim, but not fully.

7:00am, 11th November 1913

A brand new, obscenely chilly day had dawned after their calm but splendid night at the pub. John and Clara once again took their time to get up, have their breakfast before Clara put John in a chair by the sink and began to shave the small stubble on his chin. "Clara." He groaned, even though she had done nothing wrong to him.

"You should like shaving." Clara admonished as she wiped a small round away on a towel before she refreshed the blade in the water and continued the shaving. "Besides, you don't exactly look any good with this rubbish." She added, and John began to chuckle at her words.

"I had a student yesterday comment on it. Jeremy Baines, I think it was."

"The half smirking one?" Clara clarified, and he laughed.

"Yes, the half smirking one." John agreed as she again wiped the blade on the towel. "He came up to me after his class and said, "Mr. Smith, not that I mean to sound rude, but you look absolutely rubbish with that hairline on your face."" He quoted, and Clara just gave out an exasperated and dramatic roll of her eyes and a sigh.

"That was rude." Clara said, and John chuckled in agreement. As she just finished the shaving and moved to clean the blade, they heard the door swing open, and out of the corner of their eyes, they recognized the intruding culprit as one Tim Latimer.

"Out!" They ordered.

The door swung shut, and as Clara placed the clean and dry blade away, she looked at a puzzled John before the pair quickly exchanged a hearty laugh. "Oh, dear, we're so in trouble." John quipped as he got up from his seat, wiped his face with the water from the bowl before drying it off, then Clara helped him get dressed in his suit. Once he did, he walked over to the door and opened it to see a rather embarrassed Tim waiting patiently on the other side. "Sorry about earlier, Latimer." John said, and Tim did his best to smile in reassurance, but it still came across as rather terrified. "Yes?" John asked, and Tim blinked.

"You told me yesterday to come and collect that book, sir." Tim reminded, but John just stared at him with blank eyes for a moment.

"Book." He muttered before he nodded. "Good lad. Yes." Then, his eyes went wide as he grinned with a single finger pointed at Tim. "Yes!" He beamed as if he finally remembered, and he motioned Tim into the room. "Come in! Come in!" He said, and Tim shuffled into the room to see Clara lounging on the couch with a smirk.

"Tim. We're not monsters under the bed. No need to be frightened." Clara admonished with a teasing tone, but it just made Tim get flushed all the more. "And no, before you ask, we weren't doing anything…intimate…ish ." Clara finished with a chuckle.

"Ms. Oswald, I think that might be too much information." John teased as he walked over to his desk. ""The Definitive Account of Mafeking" by Aitchison Price. Now where did I put it?" John muttered as he sorted through the large stack of books he had…collected through a tumble yesterday. "Oh, and Tim, I did want a word. Your marks aren't quite good enough." John said bluntly, making Tim's eyes shift uncomfortably.

"I'm top ten in my class, sir." Tim responded meekly, but John just shook his head.

"Now, be honest, Timothy, you should be at the very top." John said as he failed to find the book in his stack, and decided to move towards the small closet library to search for it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim shooting an incredulously accusing glance at Clara, but he had to imagine the smug look on her beautiful face as she was out of sight. "And yes, if you're wondering, Ms. Oswald told me about it all." John said as he walked inside the closet. "Now, I know why you don't perform better. You're keeping your head low to avoid the mockery of your classmates."

"And your little jest." Clara muttered to Tim so John couldn't hear her. "One of these days, I need to have a word with you and Hutchinson." She clarified, and Tim's eyes widened again. "It may be working with everyone else in this school, but it isn't working on me." She said in a tone of tease and warning before she hopped up to move towards the closet. "Hurry up in there, Mr. Smith." She admonished as she disappeared from Tim's vision.

"I'm trying to find it." John retorted in a small whine as Tim heard them shuffling through the tiny library. "Come on, Timothy, you're clever." John continued. "You should be proud of yourself. Use it. No man should have to hide himself, right?"

"Yes, sir." Tim said.

"Time Lord." Tim heard a small whisper come from the mantelpiece, and he spun around to look, but there was no one there. "I'm the Last of the Time Lords."

"You better enjoy your meal Doctor, because it might be your last."

"Umm…" Tim muttered, but he could faintly hear the couple still rummaging about, either trying to talk to him or bickering with each other over that book, but Tim ignored it, keeping his gaze on the mantelpiece.

"Watch over me while I'm trapped, Clara. Trapped inside these cogs."

Cogs? Tim thought, before his gaze fell upon a small silver pocket watch, and with a quick hand, he snatched it and opened it. It was only for a second, but in that small moment, he saw a golden ray of light stream out from the inside of the watch to hit him square in the face, but all he felt was warmth, rather like the Sun. But in an instant as he saw the light, he closed the watch, and the light disappeared.

"Latimer." A voice, rather similar to Mr. Smith's, whispered from the watch into his mind. "You can't open the watch. It's too early."

Too early? Too early for what? Tim mused in his mind, unconsciously placing the watch into his pocket, practically just in time, for the giggling John and Clara re-emerged from the closet library with a book in their hands.

"Fascinating details about the siege, Clara." John chuckled as they walked up to the rapidly blinking Tim, and they paused in confused concern at the look on his face. "You all right?"

"Yes, sir, ma'am." Tim answered, but he had to clear his throat just a tiny bit as he did. "I'm quite fine."

"Good." John answered, but Tim could tell that Clara was not entirely convinced. "And remember: Use that brain of yours." John said as he passed the book into Tim's hands, but he himself paused when Tim barely reacted. "You're really not looking yourself, old chap. Anything bothering you or…" John trailed off, but Tim shook his head.

"No, sir." He responded as he gave a nod. "Thank you, sir, ma'am." He said, and the couple nodded in return before he left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he got a sudden flash of John standing in front of him. But he looked very different, with a brown pinstripe suit, completely drenched in raining water, and holding some strange device in his hands, whilst he just stared at Tim in cold silence before a flash of fire shone in front of his face.

"I warned you." John's voice said in his mind from the watch, accompanied by a very strange female scream as the figure breathed calmly in and out. "You did this."

Tim did not know specifically what it was that set him running, but very quickly, he found himself running through the school, up, or was it down the stairs, bee lining it straight for his dormitory. "It feels different this time." A gasping male voice echoed in Tim's mind as he continued to run.

"Get out! Get out!" Another male voice echoed as Tim neared the door to his dormitory, but he stopped at yet another sudden flash, this one of a different man, roughly as tall as John, with short brown hair, blue eyes, and he was wearing a very strange orange suit, the neckline of it made of metal, complete with black boots and strange black gloves as the man yelled in Tim's face. "There will be no more killing today! Get out!" The man yelled but he was soon gone.

"This is wrong! You are wrong, Doctor!" An echoing female voice exclaimed in response, but whatever they were talking about, it was cut off as Tim slammed the dormitory door shut, finding to his relief that he was alone.

"Your ears look funny." A little girl spoke from the watch, and almost like her words were a calming agent, the watch went silent, if only for the occasional incoherent whisper, but Tim was grateful for the girl, whoever she was, as his mind finally went peaceful.

Moving to sit down on his bed with a sigh, he placed his head in his hands as he tried to think. "Doctor"? What doctor? Who would… Tim couldn't think of an answer, but he did receive a response in the real world. It was the sound of the school bell being rung, and Tim knew that the first class of the day was about to start. But before he could move, he heard a strange humming in his mind, but unlike the close invasion of the watch's earlier…noises, this one was a bit…distant. Not too distant, but not quite close either. Then, he heard a voice speak, a male voice.

"There is a trace, but…somehow scattered. The scent is confused. But it's source is at this school, and we'd best arm ourselves. Father of Mine, find your form, and activate the soldiers."

Then, just like it had come, the voice went silent, Tim's mind only filled with the sound of the school bell ringing. With a small sigh and a groan, Tim got up from his bed and left the dormitory. The classes Tim had to sit before Mr. Smith's went by in a blur. Usually, Tim would have to pretend that he wasn't truly as good as he really was, but this time it was genuine. Whether it was the strange visions from the watch or the voice that sounded just like one Jeremy Baines, he was distracted. The voice of Jeremy garnered quite a lot of his mental attention, however, for just like last night, Jeremy sounded…not quite himself. He sounded cold and indifferent, not the usual smug attitude he usually bore. And Jeremy's return last night struck a nerve and left Tim feeling quite scared for the whole night, but it wasn't his attitude. Just a short while before he returned, he heard the distant incoherent sound of Jeremy's voice, but it was frightened and whimpering, practically pleading but Tim could not make out any words, but it all ended in a scream of terror that shook Tim to the core before it was followed by pure, all-encompassing silence. The scream kept on coming back into Tim's mind, for he could have sworn that he heard two more voices pleading and whimpering before they screamed in utter terror, but one was a full-grown man, and the other was little girl. But both of these ended the same as Jeremy, in complete and utter silence.

11:00am

"Concentrate." John implored, his class now seated outside the school in a small field. At the far end was bags of hay and sand strung up against tall wooden poles from the ground, the tops of the poles equipped with a metal bucket, and his entire class was taking turns in practicing the fire of weaponry, specifically, machine guns. Tim was paired up, to his inner relief, with Kane, yet all he had to do was make sure the ammunition belt was properly fed into Kane's gun. Yet even now, Tim was distracted by all that had happened hours prior. He could also swear that Jeremy, who was in this class with them yet stood by as a spectator for now, did not know who to coldly stare at in well-hidden puzzlement. It was either Mr. Smith, or Ms. Oswald, who was watching the class back at the school's back entrance. "Concentrate." John implored again when Kane temporarily ceased fire to switch to a different target, but Tim, to both his relief and dread, saw that Kane had glanced over at him, and had recognized that his mind was not currently here, and briefly squinted at him before returning to fire, many of his shots hitting either the bags that were improvising as a chest or the buckets that were in place for the head. "Hutchinson, excellent work." John commented as more empty bullet casings clattered against each other on the ground.

"Cease fire!" They heard a voice call out from behind, and the firing came to an instant stop. Turning around, the students and Tim saw Headmaster Rodrick Rocastle, a balding man despite his hat equipped with reading glasses and a greying moustache, move to stand beside Mr. Smith.

"Good day to you, Headmaster." John greeted, and Rodrick returned the greeting in a nod.

"And good day to you, Mr. Smith." For a brief moment, Rodrick glanced behind him to the school entrance, and gave a smirk back to John as he turned around again. "Someone is spying on you." He said, and John turned with a frown, but it turned into a whine as he saw Clara's sly smirk.

"Oh no, she's judging me again." He complained, but Rodrick and the students just chuckled or giggled in response, but Tim and Kane noticed that Jeremy did not emote in the slightest.

"Your class is on fine form today, Mr. Smith." Rodrick complimented, and Kane decided to use this moment to get Tim's mind back into focus.

"Excuse me, Headmaster, but we could do a lot better." Kane interjected, earning a frown from both Rodrick and John. "Latimer is being deliberately shoddy." He said with a pleading glare to Tim that only he saw. Come on, Tim! Focus!

"I'm trying my best." Tim tried to defend, but he could see that Kane was not buying it.

"You need to be better than the best. Those targets are tribesmen from the dark continent." Rodrick retorted in his authoritative voice, but it just made Tim involuntarily snort. "Something funny, Latimer?" Rodrick asked as Tim realized his mistake.

"Th-that's exactly the problem, sir." Tim tried to explain, but when Rodrick just blinked, he decided to elaborate on it further. "They only have spears, sir. No guns."

Rodrick gave out a small sigh, but Tim could see that John, whether he realized it or not, gave a smile and a wink in approval. "Oh, dear me. Latimer takes it upon himself to make us realize how wrong we all are. I hope then that one day you may have a just and proper war in which to prove yourself. Now, resume firing." Rodrick ordered, and Kane began to aim and resume his task.

Tim, on the other hand, was not able to resume his. All of a sudden, he heard incoherent mental whispers from the pocket watch before his vision drastically changed. He found himself in a place that was a complete mess. Dirt and mud and wire and loose metal was strewn all over it, at least as far as he could see, for it was a pitch-black night, and freezing cold. He felt that he was clothed in an entirely different uniform, and a heavy hat sat upon his head, and a figure limped beside him. He could not make out anything coherent with his ears, aside from the firing of guns, the screaming of other men, and the screeching of falling mortar shells that combusted in a loud roar upon their impact with the ground. "One minute past the hour." He heard himself say in this strange vision, but he was not saying it from his own lips, and he was looking down at the same pocket watch that he secretly held, but the mysterious light from much earlier was gone. It was barren and empty, but active and ticking. "Hutchinson, this is the time. It's now." Then, he looked up at the sound of something screeching out of the sky towards him, but before it hit, the vision was cut off as he heard Kane's machine gun jam, and Kane said something to him in his public smug voice, but he could not make it out, his head still ringing and blurry from the vision. Blinking, he began to refocus on the world around him, letting the cloudy grey day fade back into view, and his hearing returned just in time to hear Kane ask a question.

"Permission to give Latimer a beating, sir?" He asked, but Tim did not glance at him as he gazed off in puzzlement, but he did hear the Headmaster give a sigh in response.

"It's your class, Mr. Smith." He said simply, and now it was Mr. Smith's turn to give a tired sigh.

"Permission granted."

Tim looked at Kane just as said boy roughly grasped him by the shoulder to yank him up to his feet. "Right. Come with me, you little oik." He spat as he hauled him away. With rapid blinking, Tim managed to somewhat return his brain to reality, before he heard a small whisper with the strange humming from much earlier in his mind.

"Anything the matter, Baines?" The voice of Mr. Smith asked in a whisper.

"I thought…" Jeremy's voice trailed off before the humming went silent, and Tim glanced behind him to see Jeremy mutter something like an apology before John dismissed the class, all of the students including Jeremy turning to leave. Tim, however, was hauled inside to an empty classroom, before Kane let him go, closed the door and put a table against it to keep anyone out.

"Tim, what are you doing?" Kane asked, dropping the smug act, just as Tim sat down at an empty desk. "You have been distracted all day. Come on, spill the beans." Kane implored, taking a seat next to Tim. "What is it?"

Tim didn't know what to say for a moment, but when he finally spoke, it was the wrong topic. "You know it's a bad idea to keep a teacher out from-"

"Stop it!" Kane spat. "Don't get off topic, and just tell me the truth. What is going on with you?" He asked bluntly, and Tim knew he couldn't avoid it.

"You…you know those…flashes I have?" Tim asked, and Kane nodded. "They're…they've been much longer since this morning. Ever since I got this." Tim explained, pulling out the pocket watch, but Kane just frowned with a blink.

"A watch?" He reiterated, and Tim nodded.

"It's from Mr. Smith's room." Tim explained, and Kane started to understand it better, if the roll of his eyes meant anything.

"You took it when you went to claim your book." Kane deducted, and Tim nodded again. "So, what did you see?" Kane asked, and Tim's gaze turned tired.

"It was just…screaming…and killing, the smell of blood…among other things." Tim added meekly with a sigh. "It felt like…like a shadow had just…fallen over the entire world."

"It was a war, wasn't it?" Kane deducted, and Tim nodded. "Anything else I should know about that watch?"

Tim blinked. "I…I think somebody is looking for it. Someone in this school. It might be…it might be-"

"Jeremy." Kane said in unison with Tim, who in turn looked at Kane with eyes of surprise. "You noticed too?" Kane asked rhetorically. "For whatever reason, he wouldn't take his gaze off of Mr. Smith, or Ms. Oswald either."

"He's not himself." Tim agreed. "You know, when he came back, I found myself feeling…rather terrified. But not because he was acting weird, it was because…" He trailed off, but an encouraging raise of the eyebrows from Kane let him continue. "Just minutes before he came back, I heard his voice. I couldn't make out what he was saying but he sounded…deathly afraid. He was…pleading with something or someone, but I don't know who. Then he just screamed, like someone was running at him with a weapon before he just…fell silent. And he was silent until he returned." Tim finished, and Kane just stared at him in silent pondering.

"You'd best keep that watch hidden." Kane advised. "Although I'm not sure how long for, because Ms. Oswald will certainly notice sooner rather than later." He said, and Tim nodded in agreement. Their quiet moment was broken however at the sound of the school bell being rung, and Kane gave out a sigh. "Lunchtime. Come on. To our secret spot. " He said as he got up and moved the table away from the door and back into its previous position. "Five minutes, and you'd best hurry up." Kane said, using his public smug voice to ease the tension in the room, and Tim just smirked in response as Kane left, giving him just a few silent moments to calm himself and to think before he inevitably left.

"Rather fickle business, wouldn't you say?"

Clara turned around from watching Mr. Smith's class to see a grim-faced Joan Redfern standing behind her. "Which part?" Clara asked.

Joan's grim face turned into a tired sigh. "All of it, quite frankly." She admitted. "After all this time, I still find myself here, at a school that wants to teach boys how to kill."

"It'll be the Headmaster's way of thinking." Clara responded after a moment. "I have seen other people be more stubbornly patriotic than him, but he does have it, I'm afraid. He'll think of this as discipline, to get the boys prepared."

"But does it have to be such military discipline?" Joan retorted. "I mean, if there's another war those boys won't find it so amusing."

"And they shouldn't." Clara agreed. "But that won't stop him from trying." A moment of silence followed, filled only by the nearby firing of the machine gun, so she looked over to Joan again to see her staring sadly off at the class. "Joan?" Clara called softly, and Joan blinked.

"Sorry." Joan muttered as her shoulders slouched slightly, making Clara reach over to take her hand.

"Come on. Chin up, and smile." She reassured, and Joan managed a small smile before a chuckle promptly escaped. "What?"

"You and Mr. Smith are completely bananas, you know that?" Joan quipped, and Clara laughed.

"We're not that bad." Clara defended, but Joan just shook her head.

"Well, put a ring on his finger, then." Joan said with a shrug, but Clara just looked at her with wide eyes.

"Imma-we're gonna what?" She stuttered out, and Joan rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going down that path again." Joan said simply, allowing Clara a moment to blink and calm herself as they stared back out to the class to see that the Headmaster had moved up to them. He gave a brief exchange with John, which made the man turn to look at Clara, who unconsciously gave a sly smirk, and she could see that John started to whine as he turned back to the class. "Okay, there's my reason." Joan said after a moment.

"Reason for what?" Clara asked, and Joan once again rolled her eyes.

"To marry him." She said obviously, and Clara's eyes once again went wide. "How long have you two known each other for?"

Clara blinked at that. "I…can't exactly remember. But it's definitely been a while."

"And John is perfectly acceptable of both of your…you know." Joan said, and Clara placed a small hand over her chest for a moment before she dropped it to clasp her other hand with a sigh.

"Yes, he knows. He figured it out and I haven't even told him about it, but he's fine with it. He always has been." Clara admitted.

"Then why should I be reassuring you two?" Joan retorted in a dry quip, earning a tiny snort from Clara. "Put a ring on your fingers and be done with it." Joan said as she turned to leave.

"Mrs. Redfern." Clara said, making the woman stop to turn back around. "You are quite all right, aren't you?" Clara asked, and Joan nodded with a smile.

"Now, I would say yes." Joan admitted. "Thank you."

"No problem." Clara returned.

"But seriously, do put a ring on your fingers, you…bloody morons." Joan muttered, leaving a laughing Clara behind as she re-entered the school.

Clara turned around to see Kane heaving Latimer up by a hand on the shoulder and hauling him towards the entrance. I still don't buy it. Clara mused as she watched Kane haul Tim inside and out of sight. Tim has been behaving rather odd today. It may be nothing, or it might not. We will see.

"Ah, Ms. Oswald."

Clara turned back with a grin to see that the class had been dismissed, the Headmaster had left, and John was now standing at the foot of the small stone wall beneath her, his head coming up no higher than her chest. Now, now, Clara, that's for later. Clara chided as she looked back at John. "A little eager, are you?" Clara asked with a knowing glint in her eye.

"Course I am!" John retorted with a beaming grin, and Clara giggled. And as if on cue, the school bell began to ring, signaling for the lunch break. "Finally. Ms. Oswald, would you care to accompany me on a short walk?" John asked, and Clara grinned.

"Of course I would."

Farringham Village

"Is it just me or is England always so cold?" Clara muttered with a small shiver, despite the layer of warm clothes in place of her nurse outfit, earning a little chuckle from John, who too had changed out his teacher uniform for a warm grey suit with a scarf and black hat. John just rubbed her left arm that was intertwined with his right to provide a little warmth for her.

"As I like to say, Clara, England may be cold but-"

"It's at peace, long may she reign." Clara finished in unison with him, giving a slight roll of her eyes before she chuckled. "The weather is most certainly not at peace."

John smiled as they passed through a small walkway, one side made completely from stone, the other from a small building, with an opened steel gate in front of them. "Latimer has been behaving quite out of character today." John mused, and Clara nodded in agreement.

"Ever since our little talk this morning, he's been in a daze. Do you think we did anything to traumatize the young lad?" Clara asked, but John shook his head with a chuckle.

"I bloody well hope not." John admitted. "But what about Mrs. Redfern? She looked a touch pale."

Clara sighed, her playful smile dropping into a solemn gaze. "The…the idea of fighting doesn't sit well with her. Neither does the Headmaster's reasoning with military discipline."

John's own playful attitude turned solemn full as well. "And what do you think about his intentions?" John asked.

"Honestly?" Clara reiterated, and he nodded. "I find that whoever thinks like that is either a patriotic fool or a foolish patriot."

John gave a "Hmm" at that in response. "Well, who's more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows him?" He asked rhetorically, before his eyes quickly went wide with bewilderment for a moment, staring off into the middle distance. "Where did that come from?" He muttered, missing Clara's wide-eyed look of relieved astonishment from his sudden change of behavior, before he gave a shrug. "No matter." He said aloud, glancing at Clara before he frowned at her wide-eyed look. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Clara nodded after a moment, but it was a lie that John could not detect. It was also the first time she could remember truthfully lying to the Doctor, even if he wasn't the Doctor, not really. Damn you, Doctor. You just had to make this all so very confusing, didn't you? She muttered mentally as they came to a stop in a small little square, facing the two storied building of the Ironmongers, where two workmen were trying to hoist a piano up to the big and wide open second Floor window.

"But if I can admit one thing, it's that mankind does not need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honor and valor, and let's hope that from now on…" John trailed off as he saw a woman pushing an open baby carriage with a passenger about to round the corner of the building, and the rope suspending the piano was beginning to rip. "From now on, these eyes will not be blinded by the lights." He tried again before blinking repeatedly, and he did not see Clara recognizing the sudden tiny cracks in his behavior. "No, I-I meant that…maybe this country can find its heroes in more smaller places." He said as his brain suddenly went into an overdrive, one like only the strange man from his dreams would have had in a time of crisis. Right in front of the building was a standing stack of long steel poles, and if he hit them down, they would land right in front of the lady with the baby. I need a ball. A ball. A ball. He mentally said, glancing to his left and then to his right, before his gaze landed on a boy tossing a red cricket ball up into the air before catching it again in his hand. "Excuse me, Clara." He quickly said, detaching himself from Clara just as the piano's rope started to tear and drop, and he strode over to the boy to snatch it from the air, ignoring any protest he may have given to toss it straight over to the steel poles. Just as the ball collided, the piano's rope tore completely, but the poles landed first in front of the lady to stop her path, but instead of giving out an angry growl of annoyance, she gave out a screech of shock as the piano fell straight to the ground and shattered in a loud mess, attracting the attention of everyone present in the tiny square. Some people moved immediately to help clear the mess the piano made whilst the two workers moved to the lady to apologize repeatedly, even as she picked up her now crying baby to comfort it. John gave out a sigh of relief, even as the boy gave him two pats on the shoulder before racing over to find his ball again, but John just turned to Clara. Clara was staring at it all in, quite frankly, the prettiest look of awe she had ever given, and John crossed his arms behind his back as he asked, "Ms. Oswald, might I invite you as my partner to the village dance this evening?"

Clara's wide grin turned into an uncontrollable giggle as she wrapped him in a hug. "You already know my answer." She said simply, and he laughed in return as they walked away, pacing together in small giggling mutters even as they reached the side of a nearby field, still keeping their walk to the cart track. "Okay, now it's very clear." Clara said, earning a small frown from John. "You want to be like this Doctor, this impossible man, just so you can impress me?" She asked, and he shook his head fervently.

"Nah!" He immediately said, and she giggled in response. "Although, truth be told, I sure have just discovered a talent with cricket balls today. So, there's something to be said about that."

"Did you also forget that the Doctor has an eye for pretty ladies?" Clara teased, and John's eyebrows went up.

"Him and Clara." He corrected, and Clara laughed. "If their tale about Reinette means anything-oh dear." John said in a sudden change of tone to a little whine, earning a frown in response. "That scarecrow's all askew." He explained before Clara could ask, and they walked just a few feet up the tiny hill towards the scarecrow, whose knotted ropes were untied from its right arm and it's head was tilting, as if it was looking in the direction they came in.

"Trying to be an artist as well?" Clara mused as he untangled his arm from hers to fix the scarecrow up.

"Maybe." John answered with a chuckle as he fixed the scarecrow's head to be looking up and straight once again. "My mother, Verity, she used to be an artist in her spare time. Gave me some hints…I think." He admitted, and Clara just smiled, even though she knew that "Verity" was just an invention. Stepping away from the scarecrow, now properly fixed, he gave her a nervous glance and a smile. "Well?" He asked as Clara blinked at him. "What do you think?"

"Which scarecrow?" She asked, and his jaw dropped.

"I'm not that skinny!" He retorted in a whine, and she snorted out a laugh at him.

"I protest to that!" Clara retorted as she stepped back to view the scarecrow properly. "All right, it looks good." She admitted before she blinked. "I mean…as good as a scarecrow can look, I suppose."

John's jaw dropped again. "Clara, you are being unbelievably rude today!" He admonished, and she laughed.

"Well, I'm just too witty." She said with a wink as they walked back to the path.

"Don't remind me." John groaned lightly.

"Don't remind you of what?"

"Nothing!"

"Get up! Quick!" Kane ordered in a hissing voice, as Tim continued to climb up the tall tree, it's leaves and branches thick enough to hide them from view. "Let's see if that half smirking weirdo will come out again." Kane said, whilst Tim began to hum a little tune under his breath. "What?"

"It's just a silly tune. Something my uncle learnt in Johannesburg." Kane held out his hand in a motion for Tim to continue, who gave out a sigh before he did. "Asante sana squash banana, wewe ndugu mimi hapana."

"Sorry?" Kane asked, but Tim just shrugged.

"It means something like, "Thanks very much, squash banana. You are a baboon and I'm not"."

Kane just stared at Tim in frightened bewilderment. "What in God's name is wrong with you?" He demanded, but Tim just shrugged in defense.

"Don't blame me!" Tim retorted. "Look, my uncle was out one night, thought he heard a baboon taunting him with it, but all the sober people say it was just a drunk." He explained simply, but Kane still bore the same frightened look of bewilderment on his face. "Okay, if you ever meet my uncle in person, you can ask him, "Hey sir, are you sure you only had two bottles that night?""

Kane rolled his eyes despite his chuckle, the two of them using a free hand that wasn't holding onto the tree or a thick branch to hold down a branch in front of them, freeing some of their view. "Whose bright idea was it to use this tree as our meeting place?" Kane asked dryly.

"Yours."

"Shit. I was going to blame you." Kane admitted, earning a laugh from Tim that he quickly shared before they returned to their peeping.

"There he is. There's Baines." Tim said, pointing down to a path next to the small hill, where he was staring at the school, and seemed to be sniffing deeply.

"Why does he do that?" Kane asked, but Tim did not know the answer. "Wait…is that-"

"Mr. Clark, yes." Tim agreed, seeing a rather weighty man in a three-piece brown suit, with a short greying hair cut and a thick moustache move up to join Jeremy. "Who's the girl?" Tim asked, seeing a small brunette girl in a pink coat and white scarf, holding a red balloon, also move up to join Jeremy. Then, the three began to obviously sniff deeply, before they just walked off. A little while up their path, they could see a blur of what looked like a bunch of scarecrows moving with a figure from an abandoned bike, and Tim shared a knowing look with Kane.

"They're all bananas, but they're up to something." Kane deducted. "Come on, we need to get down before the bell rings again." Kane ordered, and the two quickly began to scale down the tree again.

Servants Quarters
5:00pm

"Ah, there you are!" Martha beamed as the door to her room opened, just as she poured herself a cup of tea on the small table, bearing only a tray with a jug of tea and two cups, one for her, and a really good-looking cake on a cake stall. Glancing up for a brief moment, she saw Jenny standing in the doorway. "Come and look at what I've got." Martha ushered, and Jenny stepped into the room. "Mr. Poole didn't want his afternoon tea, so the cook said that I could have it." Martha explained as she clicked her neck. "Ow." She muttered before sitting down at a chair, looking to see Jenny still standing there with an unreadable expression on her face. "What are you standing there for? There's enough for two." Martha pointed out, and Jenny suddenly gave a deep sniff, making Martha blink. "Are you okay?" She asked as Jenny started towards the table.

"I must have a cold coming on." Jenny explained as she sat down in the free chair.

Right. Martha thought. Cause no one's that impassive about a cold. "Times getting closer every day." Martha said.

"Time for what?" Jenny asked, and Martha blinked.

"My time to leave." Martha corrected.

"For what?" Jenny asked, and Martha groaned.

"I still don't know." Martha admitted, but felt inwardly confused, and a tad bit worried, when she noticed that Jenny did not laugh at the quip. "Anyway, just a little under a month left, and then I'll be gone. With Mr. Smith, and Ms. Oswald."

"Running from that Family, right?" Jenny clarified, and Martha nodded.

"Yeah." Martha muttered, but inwardly, she started to freak out. I never told Jenny that. How the hell does she…no. Martha took a sip of tea from her cup before placing it in the saucer with a sigh. "Still, no need to dawdle around, keeping that excitement up. Doesn't make it come-oh, no." Martha whined as she looked down at the tray on the table.

"What?" Jenny asked, but her voice was bereft of any worry, just as impassive as it had been when she stepped into the room.

"I left the sardines and jam back in the kitchen." Martha explained, and Jenny seemed to buy it. "Give me a tick, and I'll just go and get them." Martha said as she stood up, before stopping for a brief moment. "Need me to bring up anything else?" Martha asked. Please say honey for the tea. Please say-

"No, thank you." Jenny answered with a small nod, and inwardly, Martha instantly had the realization wash over like an ice-cold shower. She suddenly felt both utterly terrified and completely solemn with sadness.

Whoever she is, she isn't Jenny. Martha deducted as she slinked her way past Jenny and out the door to head down the stairs. I've got to warn her. I've got to warn Clara. Martha mentally muttered as she finished descending the stairs and sprinted out of the door. She just managed to get to the corner of the building just in time before she heard a laser blast hit the ground right behind her, and she gave out a shriek of fear before she disappeared, rushing down the nearby path straight to the school. I need to warn her! They've found us!

"You know, that closet library of yours is a poor excuse for a changing room." Clara quipped from within said closet library, as John just paced back and forth with nervous excitement in the room, wearing a grey black suit with a dark brown bowtie. "Anyway, all done!" Clara beamed as she stepped out, wearing a green dress with short sleeves that showed just enough back and just enough cleavage to be enticing to the eye, but managed to blend figure hugging with flowing. "How do I look?" She asked, twirling around, stopping when she heard him give a soft sigh. "What?" She asked with a devious glint in her eyes.

"H-Hey." He stuttered out before chuckling nervously, whilst she just raised her eyebrows at him.

"Really? That's your best response? "Hey"?" Clara admonished as he walked over and took her hands.

"Best response I could give." He admitted, and she giggled.

"Good enough for me." She said, bringing him in for a kiss that they only enjoyed for just a brief moment before the door to the room swung open, and Martha burst in without warning, breathless and eyes aflame with fear.

"They've found us." Martha said, and Clara inwardly found her body began to grow cold, but whether it was anger to the Family, or fear for their safety, she could not tell.

"Martha, we've warned you." John said, but Martha looked straight at Clara.

"It's the Family." Martha said, immediately recognizing Clara trying to keep her eyes from inflating. "They look like us, like people, but they've found us. You've got to open the watch." Martha said, turning to the mantelpiece, but she stopped short with a blink. "Where is it?"

"What are you talking about?" John asked, but Martha saw Clara's eyes dart to the mantelpiece, and they widened at the lack of a patient pocket watch.

"You had a watch. Right here." Martha said, moving to search through the mantelpiece, but she came up dry.

"Did I? Did we?" John asked Martha, giving a split-second glance at Clara but not seeing her wide eyes before he looked back to the mantelpiece. "I don't remember."

"But we need it." Martha implored, and Clara, after regaining calm control over herself, stepped forward with a hand raised.

"Okay, stop." She said with a tone that booked no argument, before she looked at John. "John, give me a minute with her."

"You sure?' John asked, and she nodded.

"Yes. Now, please." She said, and John, with a small sigh, moved to the door to leave them alone. At that, Clara turned to Martha and took her hands in her own. "Are you absolutely certain?" She asked in a low tone so John couldn't hear, and Martha nodded.

"Yes. They…they took Jenny." Martha said, and Clara's look turned solemn. "Clara, where is the watch?"

Clara frowned. "Someone took it, but I have an idea who it is." She said simply, before she took a breath. "Look, go to the TARDIS and get the Doctor's sonic. Not mine, just his. I need to convince John of his real life, and the sonic will help." Clara explained, and Martha nodded. "We're about to go to the village hall. Meet us there. Now, go." She ordered, and Martha left the room, right as Clara called John back inside.

"The cheek." John quipped dryly. "We can't be seen wandering anywhere with an insane servant." He added, and Clara just shrugged.

"She just had a little freak fit. Her friend Jenny did something out of character today, and it terrified her." She half lied, and John's eyes turned sad.

"Oh." He said simply as he blinked. "Poor girl. Is Martha all right, then?" He asked, and Clara nodded.

"She just needs to go for a walk." She responded as she took his arm again. "Anyway, should we be going?" She asked rhetorically, and it took John a moment to comprehend her

"Yes. Yes!" He nodded with a beaming grin as he led her from the room. "Although, I must warn you, Ms. Oswald, I'm not entirely certain how I am with dancing." He said, and Clara chuckled lightly as he placed a coat over her form and gave her a pair of gloves to help fight against the biting chill of the oncoming night.

"I think we'll find out soon."

"Here." Kane said, tossing Tim a spare coat as he equipped one on, once they were alone outside the school, watching the sky as the night would inevitably approach. "Bloody freezing again." He muttered, and Tim nodded in agreement. "Where has everyone gone?" Kane asked, and Tim gave him a "Seriously?" look.

"The village dance." Tim said simply, but Kane just blinked. "Didn't see the notice board?" Tim asked, but Kane just shook his head.

"Never really bothered with it, to be honest." Kane replied, and Tim rolled his eyes.

"How many times have I heard that before." He muttered dryly, before he saw the school entrance swing open, and he pushed Kane into a shadowy corner of the building. "Shhh!" Tim hissed, and it was just in time before someone ran past Tim, bumping his shoulder as they did.

"Oh, sorry!" Tim heard Martha exclaim before she raced ahead.

"Martha?" He asked in a low mutter, for he suddenly saw her in…well…much different clothes, all jet black, even her hair was different. No dress either.

"Not now, Tim, I'm busy!" Martha called back before she disappeared out of sight.

Tim blinked, jumping just a bit as he felt Kane's hand clap on his shoulder. "Cat got your tongue?" Kane teased, but Tim just slowly shook his head, and Kane let his teasing act drop. "What?"

"I saw…I saw her in…let's just say a different attire." Tim said, and Kane understood.

"Another flash?" Tim nodded. "Oh dear-" He paused, him and Tim darting into the corner as they heard the school entrance open again, and they heard two pairs of footsteps bearing two giggling voices that started to move away from their position.

"I always say, Clara, give the boys a good head of steam, they'll soon wear themselves out." John said, but Tim and Kane could only hear Clara giggle in response before they were out from their hearing's reach.

"There goes the dodos." Tim quipped, earning a look from Kane.

"They're not that off." Kane defended, before Tim hurriedly shushed him. "Who is it now?" Kane hissed under his breath, but he stopped when Tim's face went rather pale.

"Baines." Tim said simply, and Kane turned back to see Jeremy Baines move up to the school entrance, followed by Mr. Clark and-

"Holway?" They both muttered under their breath as Jenny also entered the school, and Kane shot Tim a look.

"Where's that little girl?" He asked, before their eyes widened.

"The dance." They said, before sprinting off from the school, even as they rubbed their hands for warmth.

"Should have brought some gloves." Kane hissed.

Village Hall

"You know, sometimes I wonder who attracts more attention. You or me." Clara mused as they approached the village hall, it's stone wall capped with a steel fence that bore a banner, carrying a single message, "Village Dance Tonight".

"Well, you did just take my arm in public." John retorted as they started up the tiny flight of stone steps to the entrance, but Clara just laughed.

""Just"? I took your arm ages back." She retorted, and John laughed with her, the pair of them glancing up to see an old man clad head to toe in thick layers, a few military medals pinned on his coat, whilst holding a small cup in his hand.

"Hello!" They beamed in unison, and the man grinned back.

"Spare a penny for the veterans of the Crimea, sir, ma'am?" The old man asked, and John nodded.

"Yes, of course." John said, pulling out a coin from his pocket to drop into the cup, before they nodded to the man.

"Good night!" They beamed in farewell, and the man waved back at them before they disappeared inside the village hall. As they turned to move through a double door, Clara glanced behind to see Kane and Tim slinking their way through the entrance.

"Hello!" She mouthed at them, and the pair of boys briefly froze as they saw her, and she rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know!" She mouthed back before she and John moved into the large room. The room was already busy and full of noise from men and women alike, some agitated and ready to dance, some sitting at tables drinking champagne or ale, others were exchanging greetings or playful conversations. John helped Clara take off her coat just as she put the gloves into its pockets and hung it on one of the coat hangers at the room's entrance before he did the same with his black hat. Just as they moved into the center of the room, exchanging bright grins as they held their hands, a man in a black suit with side brushed black hair stood up in front of the band at the large stage, and clacked two spare band instruments together, the loud ringing cutting through all conversations and sending the room into a moment of silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the annual village dance is here, and I thank you all for coming." The man, Mr. Chambers, said with a smile, and the people present gave a reassuring applause before he held up his hands to quieten them down again. "But no more time must be wasted, wouldn't you agree?" He asked, earning some chuckles and nods. "We have the appropriate refreshments, satisfactory food is on its way, but for now, if you would be so kind, please take your partners for a waltz, and enjoy the evening!" He said, earning another round of applause before everyone moved into the center of the room with their partners, John and Clara included, and the band began to play. The music itself was instrumental and upbeat, but everyone moved in sync. Well…almost. A couple moved out of sync for a moment, creating some laughter from those present, whilst Clara just stared at John with a bright smile as the grin on his face almost seemed like it was going haywire.

"I…I can dance!" He beamed, and Clara nodded with a giggle. "How many times can I surprise myself?!" He asked, the only other noises in the room being the shuffling of forms and feet, the playing of the band, and all the tiny conversations that all the couples were having together, not bothering with everyone else, unless they danced too close.

"So much more." Clara retorted with a wink.

"Why is that man standing outside?" Tim asked, him and Kane sitting beside a window within the hall, right in the corner, peering outside as the sky grew darker and darker by the minute.

"I have no idea. You want to ask him?" Kane quipped, earning a fervent shake of the head by Tim. "What I don't get is why the sniffing." Kane said, and Tim just glanced at him with a squint. "Is it just a cold or…well-"

"Something more?" Tim finished, and Kane nodded. "Baines hasn't been himself since he returned. And Jenny…she looked frightfully off when we saw her."

"So what do they want with Mr. Smith? Or Ms. Oswald for that matter." Kane added.

"Eavesdropping, are we?" The pair spun around with wide eyes to see a smirking Clara standing there with her hands behind her back and her head tilted just a tiny bit to the side. "And yes, if you didn't get it by now, your little act did not work on me." Clara said, and the pair exchanged a glance.

"How did you figure it out? Nobody else did, not even Mr. Smith." Tim said, before he blinked. "He didn't, did he?"

"Heavens no." Clara said with a slight roll of her eyes. "But I figured it out because I know boys and girls. Used to be a teacher." She said, earning puzzled frowns from the boys. "Before you ask, no I'm not lying. But...let's just say me and the Doctor don't exactly belong in this time. Or any time for that matter." She said, and she knew that her words wouldn't reach John, giving he was waiting in a long chattering line for refreshments.

"Who?" Kane asked.

"John." Clara answered simply. "John, at the end of the day, he is just an invention. A perfect disguise, so he could forget who he really is." Clara looked over at Tim and motioned a hand. "Do you have it?" She asked, and Tim blinked. "The watch." She clarified, enjoying for a small moment the look of surprise on Tim's face as she did. "I know you took it. But to clarify, I only figured it out before we got here. So, do you have it?"

Tim pulled the pocket watch out of his pocket, and Clara sighed before holding up a hand. "You want me to keep it?" Tim clarified, but Clara shook her head.

"Hold onto it, more like." Clara said. "I can't just open the watch and make John remember again. This is the final part of it all, the perfect disguise. I have to let him open the watch of his own free will. That is the only true way that he will remember." Clara explained, and Tim placed the watch back into his pocket, even as he and Kane did not fully understand a single word of what Clara was saying. "Now, you two, stick together, and look after it. But don't mention it or show it to anyone. You hear me?"

"Yes, Ms. Oswald." They answered in unison, and she nodded with a smile.

"Great!" She beamed. "See you two later." She said with a small wink before leaving, the pair of boys left in a perpetual state of bewilderment.

"Out of her fucking mind, that one." Kane quipped dryly, earning a chuckle from Tim as they turned back to the window. "By the way, Tim, did you notice the girl?" He asked, but he tutted as Tim turned to look. "Use the reflection." He said, and through the reflection, they could see the brown-haired girl, the one with the balloon, sitting at a table and trying her best to be figuratively invisible, but her glances kept on going to Clara and John. "What's she up to?" Kane mused, but either Tim did not know the answer, or they both did but they did not want to voice it aloud.

"Oh, no!" The old man tutted as Martha came up to the entrance of the hall. "Staff entrance, I think, miss."

"Yeah?" Martha retorted with a smile. "Well, think again, mate." She said simply before brushing past and into the hall. She found that the band was playing their music, but half the people were enjoying themselves, even as they seemed almost out of breath, probably from too much dancing. Among those, she saw, was John and Clara. Clara was sitting patiently at a table whilst John was in line to grab some refreshment drinks. Clara immediately saw Martha, and her happy smile faded a little, even as she motioned Martha over.

"Did you bring it?" She asked simply, and Martha nodded, and Clara's already faded happy mood started to turn sadder by the second.

"You all right?" Martha asked.

"I'm…I'm not sure." Clara admitted.

"You are getting the Doctor back." Martha reassured, and Clara nodded.

"Yes, but at a cost." Clara said before she sighed. "But I'm afraid…there's no other way." She said, and Martha turned sad at that as well.

"I'm sorry." Martha said, but Clara waved it off with a smile.

"Just the ravings of a mad girl. One that's been stuck too long in one place. I'm afraid that I lost the right to a domestic life long ago. But…" She shrugged with a small smile, "it was fun while it lasted." She admitted as she held out a hand, and Martha slipped the Doctor's sonic into her grasp, her hand sliding out of view just as John came over with two glasses of champagne.

"Martha, this is getting out of hand." John said not unkindly as he placed the drinks down, just as Clara stood up. "What is it now?"

"She is right, you know." Clara said, her voice suddenly tired and sad, gaining a frown from John.

"Right? Right about what-" He stopped when Clara held up her hand, showing him the sonic, and his face froze as he looked at the device.

"Do you know what this is? This…silly little thing?" Clara asked, but John did not answer. "Go on. Take it." She implored, and slowly, he took the sonic from her hand into both of his own, gazing with blinking eyes as it lay in his hands. "John?" Clara called softly, and John tore his gaze away from the sonic to look at her with wide eyes.

"It's…it's his…thing, his tool, his…" John stuttered, looking back down at the sonic, only calming just a bit as Clara placed her hand over his.

"The sonic screwdriver." Clara finished for him. "John, all of those stories, the ones in your journal…they're not stories." She said simply.

"You…you were lying to me about…about not recognizing them." John finished, and Clara's gaze turned stone deadly.

"Don't." She warned simply, and he gulped as her expression went softer again. "I couldn't tell you the truth, because you wouldn't believe me. And don't try to make me think that you would have accepted it, because you wouldn't have." She interrupted before he could protest. "I know you. I always have. You tried your best, but you couldn't fool me into thinking that you were truly okay with it."

"With what?" He asked, and she took one of his hands to place on her chest, exactly where her heart would have been beating. "You…you never told me about-"

"Because you wouldn't believe me." She repeated with a tired expression. "My heart doesn't work because I am a fault, something that shouldn't be. We have that in common, I'm afraid." She said, and his lips began to quiver just a bit in both confusion and a sudden terror, but he couldn't figure out if it was for her or for himself, or both.

"What do you mean, I shouldn't…be?" He asked, and Clara just gazed sadly at him.

"You are not "John Smith", not really. You are called "The Doctor". That man, in the journal, the one you become in your dreams, that IS you, and he is real."

In that moment, John could not distinguish one feeling from the other as many just raced through his mind. For a moment, he found terror, all about himself. What was to become of him? What is he, really? Another was this sense of glee. He always wanted to be like that strange man, the Doctor, and if Clara's words were true, and even now he still could not doubt her, then he could be that man, living the extraordinary. The final feeling he did distinguish was…one he wasn't unfamiliar with. It wasn't pity, but it was…well, he found a sudden urge like he wanted to hug Clara, feeling as though this secret that she had been looking after for however long had taken a toll on her, try as she might to cover it up. Now he could see, she just looked so very tired, tired of it all, just…tired. "Are…" He tried to say, but he had to take a moment to clear the little knot in his throat. "Are you okay?" He asked, earning a small wide-eyed look from Clara.

"That's your first question?" Clara clarified without any bite. "About my well-being?"

"Yes." John answered bluntly, and her eyes grew wider. "Clara, are you okay?"

Her lip trembled for just a moment as she gulped, and she shook her head. "No, I'm not."

Unfortunately, their moment was cut off as they heard a man scream from the front door, and everyone else stopped their dancing and the band stopped playing as they looked about in anxious confusion, wondering if the dreadful scream was just something simple, or something more. "John, don't let them know." Clara said as her body went stiff, motioning for Martha to take the sonic from him and shove it into her coat pocket.

"What are you-"

"The simplistic reason as to why we were hiding is that we were being hunted, and they are here, now." Clara explained hastily, his eyes growing wide with fear not just for them, but suddenly for everyone else that was present. "Just don't tell them anything. Make them think that you know nothing about what I've just said." She ordered, and he gulped lightly, the effort not calming himself enough as he thought. Right on cue, Mr. Clark strolled through the entrance with a green ray gun in his left hand, his right grasping an unused hat hanger and flinging it down to the ground, the noise most definitely earning everyone's attention.

"You will be silent!" He roared, followed closely behind by a half smirking Jeremy Baines, armed with a ray gun, a stern looking Jenny Holway, also armed, and…some scarecrows. Walking, moving scarecrows, hollow eyes and all. Everyone in the room began to crowd into two large groups of cowering people, one in the back end at the stage, the other group on the front side of the room, and some of them were John, Clara, Martha, Kane and Tim. "All of you!" Mr. Clark added as some of the men and women began to whimper in fear. "I said: Silence!"

"Mr. Clark, what is going on?!" Mr. Chambers demanded. Mr. Clark answered only by half turning to aim the gun point blank at Mr. Chambers and fired, the green blast disintegrating the screeching Mr. Chambers into a pile of ash, and many in the hall began to gasp and scream in panic.

"We asked for silence!" Jeremy roared, and everyone, now worried for their own safety, quietened down. "Now then, we have a few questions for Mr. Smith, and Ms. Oswald." He said, glancing with his half smirk between the pair of them, John's face suddenly terrified once again, whilst Clara's went stone cold.

"No, better than that." The little girl interrupted, hopping up from her seat to join the trio, all staring straight at the couple. "The teacher, he is the Doctor. I heard them talking."

Jeremy's eyebrows went up, possibly in delighted surprise, but it was hard to tell with his eyes blazing an excited fire at them. "You took Human form." He deducted, but John just frowned at him.

"Of course I'm Human." John retorted. "I was born Human, as were you, Baines. And you, Jenny, and you, Mr. Clark. What is going on?! This is madness!"

Jeremy laughed. "Ooh, and a Human brain too. Simple, thick and dull." He quipped, but only the little girl found it to be humorous as she giggled with a smile.

"But he's no good like this. Protesting and thinking we're idiots." Jenny said to Jeremy, and Jeremy let his half smirk drop for just a moment to nod with a shrug.

"Yes, Mother of Mine, you're quite right." Jeremy agreed, and Mr. Clark nodded in agreement too.

"We need a Time Lord." Mr. Clark added, and Jeremy stepped forward.

"Easily done." He said, moving his arm to aim his ray gun point blank at John, who unconsciously took a step back. "Change back." He ordered simply.

"I don't know what you're talking about." John retorted, and Jeremy gave a growl.

"Change back!" He roared.

"I literally do not know-" John's words were cut off as Jenny sprung forward, wrapped an arm around Clara's neck and tugged her away from John towards the group. "Clara, no!" He pleaded, but Jenny pointed her ray gun straight at the struggling Clara's face with a…positively creepy smile.

"She's your lover, isn't she?" Jenny asked. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"

John did not know the answer to that, for part of him still didn't really know what they were talking about, but it was the scared look in Clara's wide eyes that took his attention, no matter how cold she tried to make herself look. "Have you enjoyed it, Doctor, being Human?" Jeremy asked, lowering the gun to grasp it with both hands in front of himself, his half smirk extending into a half smile. "Has it taught you wonderful things? Are you better, richer, wiser? Well then, let's see you answer this: Which one do you want us to take? One to kill, or one to keep? Simple, contradicting Human or long living Time Lord?" Jeremy asked, and he watched and waited with glee, as John just did not know how to answer. "Your lover or your life? Your choice."

AN: Well, to be continued, I guess. If you did get a little confused as to the lack of scenes with the Family of Blood, well…next time, you'll get quite a bit with them. Even something new that you…might enjoy quite a bit, but I can't spoil that one. XD Anyways, as always, thanks for reading and leave a review if you wish. :)