Clara shifted in her sleep, the feeling of something or rather, someone was missing. She rolled to her side and extended an arm but was greeted by an empty bed.

A moment later, her husband emerged from the en-suite. "I was about to get ready for work but then I thought to hell with it," he said. "I'm spending the day with my pregnant wife."

She frowned, processing his words as her mind as still clouded by sleep. By the time she understood what he meant, she smiled and patted the empty spot next to her. "No, wait, just stand there and let me admire you for a moment."

The bliss moment didn't last very long, however, as the glass window shattered, a bullet whizzing past her husband and he ducked by instinct.

John's first thought was Clara and he crawled to her quickly before pulling her down to him as he shielded her from the shards of glass were flying everywhere.

Several more gunshots were heard before the sound of a speeding car was heard and then there was complete and total silence. A second later, a car was heard speeding, leaving the echo of a roaring engine.

The only thing John could hear was the sound of his wife breathing heavily. Her eyes her wide with fear and shock and she was shaking. "Clara," he whispered. "Clara, look at me."

He said her name again and she finally snapped back to reality.

"You're not hurt, right?" he asked, checking to make sure she wasn't injured. If something happened to her or the baby…

She shook her head, still unable to speak from the shock.

He slowly guided her to a sitting position, leaning her against the wall. "It's over," he whispered, attempting to comfort her.

Her eyes trailed from his face down to his left arm as she noticed a red spot on the sleeve of his shirt. "John," she said, fearing the worst as she extended a shaky hand to inspect the wound.

He looked down, only just realising that one of the bullets grazed him. "It's nothing serious – just a graze – don't look at it."

Clara couldn't help herself. This was her fault. Her husband was shot at because of her.

"Clara."

She locked eyes with him again.

"I'm still here," he stated. "I'm still alive," he added, raising her hand and placed it on his chest, above his beating heart.

Sirens could be heard in the background but neither of them acknowledged it.

"Can you stand?"

His wife nodded as he helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her. She leaned against him, making sure that he was indeed there with her. She wished that this was just all one horrible dream, one that she desperately wanted to wake up from.

Her father had been right about the threats. He had been right to worry about her and she took her safety lightly.

"I think the police are here," her husband murmured, slowly guiding her to the staircase.

"John," she managed.

"Yes?"

"This is my fault," she confessed, voice cracking. "This is all my fault."

He knitted his eyebrows, not quite understanding why she was blaming herself when she had nothing to do with what happened. He pinned it down to the shock. "Clara, this has nothing to do with you – you are the last person I would blame."

"No, no, you don't understand."

He kissed her head. "Please, just don't do this to yourself, to me."

"I should have-"

"Metropolitan Police!" a police officer announced from downstairs.

"We're obtaining CCTV footage of the vehicle as we speak, boss," Dylan said as he stood in front of John who was being treated by a paramedic. "We'll get them."

John didn't quite listen to what his colleague had said as his eyes were dead set on his wife just a few feet away. There was nothing more important to him at the moment than his wife and baby. "Get it faster."

"We're going as fast as we can, boss."

"Mrs Wilkshire said she saw a black vehicle speeding past her house after the shooting," Rena revealed as she joined the group. "She only managed to remember the first two digits of the plate – DW," she added. "Aidan's interviewing the final witness."

"It's a start," John grunted as the paramedic finished treating the wound.

"You're as good as new, DCS."

"Thank you," John said before hurrying over to his wife.

Clara had her arms wrapped around herself, sitting in the back of Dylan's car. "What happens now?"

She sat next to her before reaching for her hand and grasping it gently. "We're going to take you to a safe house," he began.

"What about you?" she added, worried that they might be separated.

He flashed her a kind smile. "By you, I meant us," he told her. "I'll always be with you, Clara."

She nodded, feeling relieved at the reassurance. "How long do we have to stay there?"

This was the part he found difficult to explain. For the time being, they were going to be whisked away from their family and friends and he couldn't say how long, but definitely in the foreseeable future. "Until it's safe for us to return home."

"I haven't called dad," she revealed. "I need to tell him about this, about us expecting."

John placed a hand on her stomach. "You can call him once we've moved into the safe house."

Clara's shoulders sank. The guilt was eating her, and she desperately wanted to tell him the truth. She felt him tuck a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

"I promise that no harm will come to you or the baby," he whispered with determination. "I will find whoever did this."

She rested her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes for a brief moment and silently praying that this was all just a dream.

"On the bright side, we're becoming parents," he pointed out, hoping that the topic will at least get her mind off the shooting.

"The baby is very lucky to have you as its father."

"Likewise," he replied.

"Boss, if you're ready, I can drive you to the safe now right now," Dylan said, awaiting further instructions.

Clara lifted her head. "What about our belongings?"

"I've already packed the essentials," her husband told her. "I'll come back to get the rest once you're settled in."

Dylan went over to the other side of the car and climbed into the driver's seat. He made eye contact with Clara through the rear-view mirror before stepping on the accelerator, heading to their destination.

Dylan stared at the number he was about to phone, thumb hovering over the green button on the screen. This was probably one of the most difficult things he had to do in his entire career.

He tapped the green phone icon before placing the phone next to his ear. It rang for a second or two before the person on the other end answered.

"What is it, Dylan?"

"Clara's been moved to a safe house," the DCI began. "A car drove past the house this morning and started shooting at it."

"What?!" Dave roared on the other end, causing Dylan to wince.

"She's fine, boss," the detective continued. "Just shaken after the incident."

"Are you sure she wasn't hurt?" Dave inquired worriedly.

"No, sir, Smith was quick to get her out of harm's way."

Dylan could hear Dave's breathing slowing down a bit. "Her phone is switched off and will remain so until she's moved out, so I will try to get her new number as soon as I can."

As much as Dave was glad and relieved to hear that his daughter is fine, he was cross that Davros would have the guts to threaten him like this. "Send me updates every hour and is it possible to have our men close by?"

"I'll see what I can do about that."

"Where was Pink during this?"

"The shooting happened two minutes after the bodyguards left, boss," Dylan revealed. "They've been watching us this whole time."

"I want the identity of the shooters."

"Yes, sir."

Dave hung up and pursed his lips. There was only one thing left to do as he searched for a name in his contact list.

"Henry, how soon can we meet?" he asked. "I have a deal for you."

John still couldn't shake off the feeling that his wife was blaming herself for what happened. He had insisted that the bullet graze was nothing more than a flesh wound, yet her eyes were still full of guilt and misery.

"You need to stop blaming yourself," he said, sitting next to her on the mattress. "I really don't understand why you're doing this to yourself."

Clara shut her eyes and shook her head. Where would she even start?

"Are you going to be ok while I'm gone?" he asked gently. "Kate sent the best of the best from Special Branch so there's nothing for you to worry about."

"That's not what's on my mind," she confessed. "John, there's something I should have told you."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Before I say it, I love you," she breathed. "And that I was just afraid of how you would react – I was selfish."

"Clara, you're not making any sense."

She grabbed both his hands. "This is something I've been wanting to tell you for quite some time – it should have been addressed when we got serious."

John could feel his heart beating faster and faster, fearing the worst. Was his wife ill? Is that what's been plaguing her mind? "Clara, whatever it is you're about to say, whatever it may be, at the end of the day, I have a duty of care."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "My family name isn't Oswin."

John shot her a confused look.

"It's Oswald."

"My father is one of the four dragons," she continued. "I promise you that I have nothing to do with his criminal organization – I didn't want to be a part of it, and he didn't want me to," she added. "It was also actually the reason why I lived with my aunt back then."

John processed her words carefully, not uttering a single word, his face devoid of any emotion.

"John," she called, squeezing his hands, expecting the worst. "I was an idiot and coward for not being honest sooner."

He blinked. "I don't know what to say," he spoke, freeing his hands from hers and getting to his feet.

Clara fought back the tears as she could see how broken and betrayed her husband looked. "The shooting may have had something to do with my father's rivalry with Davros."

John ran a hand through his hair. This was far too much for him. First the shooting and now this. "I have to go," was all he said before leaving the bedroom and shutting the door in a hurry.

Clara could only sit in despair, eyes red and puffy. Things were never going to be the same ever again.