Clink-clank. Clink-clank.

Clara nudged the cart forward, pushing more force each time someone threw a new rock inside of it, like a pro basketball player without much care on his training. The walls of cavern hall were getting slimmer as she reached the dead end of the mines. Here, a few people worked on expanding the large underground net. Before she reached the end of it though she had plenty time to day-dream.

"Can you see him?"

"No."

"And now?"

"No!" She cried exasperatedly.

The Doctor wasn't just taking it for granted. He chuckled, swaying his head on the back. "He might wait for me there."

She couldn't help herself but smack him lightly at the shoulder, the closest thing she could reach. A daft old blind man was testing her patience. "Doctor, there's nobody in your cell!"

"Aye, don't shout. What if he'll hear you?"

"He won't because he's not there. Stop fussing."

"I'm not. It's you who are shouting."

She rolled her eyes at him. Not that he could see her, but he smiled-that bastard knew her too well to predict her reactions-and made his eyes blink three times in the row. "I might have forgotten to clean up, aye!"

She had enough of it. It was bloody his cell, nothing special, and she was chaperoning him to it, which would be impossible unless every cell hadn't assigned number system. She took his hand and shoved themselves into it. He missed a step and stumbled, but transformed his clumsiness into elegant turn and saw the air with his arms.

"Voila!" He smiled as if he had made something very clever, something she hadn't understood yet but would appreciate his crazy invention later. "What do you think of my cell?"

Clara gave it a quick not impressed look.

"Yeah, whatever, the same as mine. You don't have a roommate?"

"No, I talked her out of being my roommate. Don't worry, she's only moved to the other side of prison from me."

Clara chuckled at that, if he wanted he would chat anyone to death. But then another thing caught her attention.

"You can do that? Cells aren't segregated?"

Yes, he had told her, if you have a very good reason, and no, if you don't have any serious reason not to. And she wondered if she could find a peace by taking proximity between them and cutting it in 2/3.

She was so deep in her daydream that she missed a boy in front of her, who was, just as her, working at collecting rocks with his cart, and she bumped into him, immediately saying how sorry she was and that if he was tired he could share some of his rocks with her. When he turned around and said something that sounded like 's okay', she caught a glimpse of his bright eyes of the color she hadn't seen before. They weren't just yellow, they were rimmed with hazelnut, and there was just a tiny bit hint of silver in his pupils and gold swirling inside of the left eye, reminding her of the regeneration force she had seen once taking the Doctor, and brown inside of the other. His nose was a funny upturned little snub. As she gawked, astonished to see so wonderful eyes, the boy simply said 'I'm so sorry, Clara' and continued his trail.

"Wait!" She left her cart to catch up with the boy and put her hand on his shoulder. "Do I know you?"

The boy didn't say the word, only stared at her as if he'd seen a ghost of the mines. But then his fear was winded away without any seemingly reason, and he said, "I'm afraid so, Clara."

Clara shook her head. The boy was claiming she knew him, but she couldn't find in any corner of her mind a memory with him. She smiled nervously worrying her lower lip, "I'm very sorry, but I can't remember you."

The boy carefully tried to smile, too, but it was hard for him to crook his thin lips and he looked like he was about to cry. "Don't worry, I do."

"Does it mean we will meet each other in the future? My future?" Clara asked.

He didn't answer. Instead, he began pushing his cart further.

As she saw him leaving her, he vanished in semi-darkness, taking the other railway from her.

She might as well had imagined him up because the hall was a straight line the dead end and there was not a sideway at all.

The Doctor was itching on his high-stool. Barney hadn't told him anything after his little yesterday escapade when he had taken Clara and just vanished to nowhere. And today was the day when Barney seemed somewhat resembled, like his days were gone to not be back again.

"Why are you so quiet, Barney?" He asked him, taking a pen from his table and swinging it with his knuckle bones. He was bored with silence and felt a bit guilty, not that he would ever say that out loud. The man probably had searched the whole prison looking for one blind man and must have felt humiliated after not finding one.

Barney wasn't answering immediately, as if he was offended and ignoring him purposefully, but then he gave the answer that made the Doctor lose his pen in nowhere. "Our days are coming."

"What makes you think so?" The Doctor asked after he gave up trying looking for the forever lost pen. So, he wasn't offended, he was worried over his thoughts. Good. His guilt slightly eased away and was gone when nobody watched. "You're in good shape, not so old, you never get ill."

"I don't know." The Doctor heard several muscles rub in the process of making a shrug. "It's just a thought."

"Will your days end tomorrow?" The Doctor asked nicely, playing with his ring which he well-hid on his first day. It felt like if he didn't touch anything he was lost.

Barney shook his head, which was just the same thing as shaking his whole body. The Doctor didn't know how exactly Barney looked like, but his neck must have been heavy.

"You don't listen, Doctor, do you? I said our days. Not just mine, yours probably too. Especially yours. Yours…" Barney was quiet as if he was looking for the proper word, "will hurt the most."

"What gives you this thought?" He asked, his curiosity suddenly taking the rein of his mind.

"I don't know. It's," Then the Doctor heard a chin muscle twitch, "I don't know. I'm only getting it, the thought."

"You never know, do you?"

"Can't you feel it?" Barney asked him in wonder. "You're a telepath or somewhat, you can feel other people present in the room and tell their approximate age, surely you must feel it."

"I'm very sorry, but I really haven't got the faintest idea what you're talking about. Have you got anything else?"

"It's like," Barney was lost for words again all of a sudden, the Doctor imagined him close his eyes in concentration on that curious thought, "an image of battle. Days are coming and they bring a bigger war. The war of Hybrid." Barney shook his head and simply took his words back. "I'm being silly. Probably scared you, yeah? Yeah, you seem like it."

"Barney, if you have any thought at all, even if it's the silliest one, can you please share it with me?" The Doctor whispered in a quite voice.

"Even if I tell you that what you're planning to do with Clara is dangerous and stupid and will hurt everyone?" Barney smirked.

The Doctor jumped from the stool almost dropping it. "How do you know what I'm going to do?" He could hear his hearts beating thrice faster, his curiosity being on fire and transforming into a cold fear.

"It's all over your face when you're sitting here. I've seen that look on many people who are dead by now. You're dreaming of escape." Barney places his hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

The Doctor obeyed reluctantly and sat back at his stool. It was close but Barney wasn't talking about what he had dangerously thought he would say.

"Relax, I won't tell anyone. I owe you. Besides, I don't think you care that much if your plan will hurt you. And I'm not your nan to fuss about you, for this you have Clara now." Barney didn't sound offended at all.

"All these days I was under impression that you resembled one of my friends. Thank you for not being him."

"My pleasure, Doctor." Barney smirked.

She was in big trouble.

Ashildr was fighting controls and trying to make the stubborn ship listen to her, which was hilarious in other circumstances. She couldn't understand why the ship wasn't obeying her and forcing them back on Earth.

"We need Alendrona to find where they sent these idiots!" The TARDIS made a noise which could mean anything at all. "You opened your doors to me, you promised to help me, what are you doing right now?!" She hissed.

The TARDIS, of course, didn't tell her, but did something that made Ashildr go ballistic: turned off the console room. A darkness fell over the room. Only Ashildr's desperate swearing could be heard in echo of the ship.

"Damn you!" She kicked the console with her shoe.

Then, in a mere matter of seconds, the TARDIS landed with a quiet, and even polite, knock on the ground. They landed on Earth, but just where it was? The console lights flickered back to life, and Ashildr reached for a handle of the scanner display.

Maybe the old wicked girl sent her back to her Trap Street. It wasn't clear what exactly she saw in the display, it was too dark.

Ashildr risked her safe spot inside the machine and left it. They were somewhere underground, she could hear a hushed water dripping on the floor. No, it wasn't just any underground, it was a basement. She looked around in search of something that would explain the TARDIS behaviour, suspecting that the ship couldn't bring her here just out of the blue. And she found it, because the doors were facing it, literally pointing at it and dropping inner lights at it.

The door.

Or could you call it just a door? It was a vault door several metres high, made of twenty rare metal alloys and something Ashildr had never heard of. However, the most astonishing about this door was not the door itself, a door can be made of whatever it wished to be made of and be quite happy with that, but a stunning number of locks. Palm scan, finger scan, eye scan, breath scan, DNA lock, number lock, image lock – you name it, the door had it in several copies. Which made Ashildr wonder what the hell exactly the TARDIS wanted to unleash if it was so secured.

"I've never been an expert of picklocking but I think that's the kind of door I would love to install for my secrets," Ashildr said in astonishment as she observed the vault door closer.

Nah, there wasn't a chance she could break it.

Just then she heard someone huffing and it was getting louder as the person was getting closer. Ashildr dashed to the TARDIS door, ready to hop in and send them somewhere away, but the door didn't yield to her. She could hear someone's feet hitting something metallic, a spiral stairs to the basement perhaps, and before she could be observed she hid behind the TARDIS, hoping with her heart that whoever that was he wouldn't care for something so huge as a police box down in his basement. Because, as Ashildr could distinguish one word from another, it was a male voice.

And he was not in the least happy.

"Its my holiday, Nardole, less than a day for all of you, you won't even miss me, Nardole," the man who was coincidentally called Nardole was hissing, "Go away, Nardole. You, sir, are in big trouble. And I don't care what adventure you had and how difficult it was for you and whether you lost a limb or two. I warned you, right! You have many enemies and they would like to hear all your whining." Nardole knocked on the door of the TARDIS. "Open it. Face me, idiot. I promise you nothing but hell."

Ashildr was holding her breath. This man… was he calling the Doctor an idiot? Well, he obviously knew what the TARDIS was, this one in particular, so that left her with only one option.

Nardole tried the handle but the TARDIS didn't let him enter. What was the time machine playing?! "What's that? Are you scared of me? You should be!" He tried it again. "Just what do you think you're doing?" He squeaked.

The TARDIS wanted them to get acquainted, Ashildr thought. It would be the only reasonable answer why she wasn't letting the Doctor's friend inside and keeping her outside. So, Ashildr thought, better to do what she wanted.

She started with a polite cough which frightened the daylights out of Nardole and gave him several grey hairs – if he had any. She left her safe spot behind the blue box and smiled. "Hello, my name is Me."

"Who are you!" Nardole yawped.

"I'm the Doctor's friend. And he's in big trouble."

The Doctor was daydreaming in his chair, in the dark room of his cabinet in the small prison library. He was waiting patiently for a knock, that special knock that would bring his Clara to him.

There was a knock but not quite the one he'd been waiting for.

"What is it, Barney?" The Doctor asked. His voice lacked irritation because the Doctor knew Barney wouldn't have disturbed him for something trivial.

"About Clara. You told me to watch after her."

"Yes?"

"There is a saying…"

"Just spill it."

"That she is meeting with Pepe." Barney quickly ended his sentence.

The Doctor leaned closer, intertwining his bony fingers together in a lock. "I've met him once," he recalled Clara's scent of fear, "Alistair Fitch-Brown, yes?"

Barney sounded puzzled, "How do you know?"

He knocked on his scull with a tip of his finger, "I remember every name in this prison. Especially those who work in mines with Clara. What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he has people amongst miners, many people. Has many tattoos on his face, so you can't miss him. And he's very dangerous lad."

"Ah, I like dangerous chaps. They're fun to play." The Doctor chuckled ominously.

"Will you need my help?" Barney asked not without a hint of curiosity in his voice.

The Doctor shook his head. And sniffed deeply. Interesting. "No. That's my and Clara's business only. And tell her to come in."

Clara was still in thoughts about the strange boy she met down in the mines. She was sure he looked familiar. Maybe someone she met in school? No, that would be ridiculous, the Earth was many many miles away, a little dot if any in the sky. Or maybe he was Ashildr's friend? Nah…

When she reached the door, she heard a small part of conversation, the Doctor was considering something as fun and said that something was their business and then he told Barney to let her in?

Barney opened the door, gave her a small nod and let her in the Doctor's chamber.

"How did you know I was here?" Were her first words.

The Doctor shrugged, giving her a somewhat smug and proud face in the darkness of the poorly lit room. "I don't know. Isn't it exciting?"

"I wouldn't call it exciting."

The Doctor made a face, "Can't I be happy for once? I can feel you! Only if it's dim." He chuckled. "How are your bruises?"

Clara knew the Doctor wouldn't stop thinking about resurrecting her, the least thing of all she wanted, but she decided to put it away for more convenient times.

"Healed. How is your plan?" She snatched back.

"Working on it."

"Work on it harder. What I've already heard doesn't sound very promising."

"Well, it's not like I can put down an escape plan on my TARDIS blackboard or any paper…" the Doctor purred the last world with a hint in his voice.

Clara couldn't help herself but smile.

"That's what I'm here for. To help you. Or have you forgotten that, daft old blind man?"

"No. How could I have?" The Doctor winked.

She found a blank piece of paper and a pencil and sat closer to him.

It wasn't the best plan, but it was something. She would argue with him, and he would sarcastically snap back but then shake his head in approval and whisper 'that might work'. She would write it down and draw quickly, not with the same elegance he once had, but it was coherent which was enough. He would furrow his deep wrinkles on his forehead, asking her to repeat everything they had came up with, and close his eyes to rest.

"Bullshit, yeah?" He would ask her.

But Clara would only shake her head and tut at him for swearing. Let's try again.

And again.

And he would. Until he began mumbling something incoherent with his eyelids closed, something about attracting daleks on this planet or cybermen. Clara didn't know what time it was, but it must have been evening already.

"Hey," she poked him lightly in his shoulder.

"Hmm? Am not sleeping." The Doctor hummed.

"You are."

"Not." The Doctor yawned. Clara embraced him in a side-hug, placing his head on her shoulder. Her fingers as if on instinct intertwined with his grey locks.

"Maybe we'll think something tomorrow?"

"I'm okay. I'm just in some wonderful place." She could swear she could hear him suck his breath when she hit one particular spot on the nape of his neck. "Oh, Clara Oswald," he purred, "are you really here?"

She chuckled. Was she really? "If I'm not, what will you do?"

"Wake up from a very nice dream, I suppose." The Doctor shrugged. "And run towards something dangerous, alone."

Clara chuckled at his honesty, and thought she must share something honestly, too.

"I've been thinking about you," she told him. "A lot, actually. When I fail to save someone, mostly."

"Ah." The Doctor puffed knowingly in her shoulder.

"How do you cope with it?"

"How do I cope with death?" He asked and sighed heavily. "I don't. There are too many people in danger, and you need to try to save them all. Most of them you'll fail. But there would be several to thank you, never forget them," He somewhat smiled, and she felt chills ran down her spine.

"What if I've failed too many?" Clara then asked bitterly. "What if there weren't several?" She could feel a tickle in her throat. She remembered those poor souls which hadn't made it through transition in the desert. She could have done something, the Doctor would have tried and stopped the guards, talked them through, persuaded to help them. The Doctor would have fought for them, if needed. The Doctor would have not been silent. She felt she couldn't stop it, the wave of guilt hitting the shores of her conscience. And the room became so big all of the sudden, and she felt so small.

She wasn't in control. She couldn't save anyone. She was useless.

"What if there were none?" She bleated.

"Oh, my poor Clara." He embraced her closer to himself, laying her head gently on his shoulder. No, she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't, in front of him. Maybe when she was alone… But then Pepe might appear, damn him. Damn them all.

"My poor brave Clara." The Doctor repeated it with such a gentle voice she could almost weep. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not in front of him. She would never show her weakness.

"I couldn't save them. Save them all." She told him. "I wasn't fast enough or clever enough. I wasn't good for them."

"Clara, you tried. That's all that matters."

"Good people don't try to be good!"

"But good people always start somewhere." The Doctor said. "We are not good or bad from the day we are born, we are not good or bad because of our parents, or society we live in, or language we speak. What you think and what you do all that should matter. It's easy as that," as he was saying, his hand stroked her hair. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't, but she could feel first traces of wet tears bellow her eyes. "Oh, what have I done to you, my Clara?"

She hit his chest with her small knuckle angrily. "Not this again."

The Doctor chuckled lightly, "okay. It's not like we haven't talked about it, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have. And you know what I'm going to say." She wiped her tears away, but didn't dare to look at him.

"Clara, you're trying to play me. Nobody should ever do that."

"It's horrible to be you, I must say. You should never be alone."

"I know. That's why I've got you, isn't it?" He tried to smile a little reassuringly. But she would have none of this.

"You've got friends at uni, remember that. They are waiting for you, Nardole and Bill. They need you."

"Nah, they can wait. I'm not much use for them, anyway."

"Students?" Clara suggested.

"I don't even have a curriculum. I talk what I think and it's a lecture."

"You told me you had to guard some criminal in the vault," Clara reminded him. "You have to get back to Earth."

Surprisingly, the Doctor didn't fight it and nodded heavily.

"Will you come with me?"

"You know I can't, Doctor."

"Not for long. I'll just show you around."

"It won't be enough for you."

"But–"

"Please. It's hard for me enough to tell you 'no'. You know what will happen to the universe if we are together."

"Yes, sorry." The Doctor shook his head. "Will you stay with me just for today? Is that too much to ask? Just stay with me in the library for tonight?"

Maybe it was because she reached her limit when she could say 'no' to the Doctor, maybe it was because she was afraid Pepe would be waiting for her in her cell, or both at the same time, she nodded.

"Is it yes?" He dared to whisper hopefully.

She kissed him in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, "Yeah."