This chapter was difficult.

But hopefully good. Special thanks to KnittingFamine as always because he's freaking amazing.

Rose sighed with barely concealed annoyance. She decided, if she ever got married (something she was hoping was in her future for herself and John) she would not be putting as much effort into simply finding a nice dress, because Donna was driving her mad. They'd been at the bridal shop for hours, trying on different dresses. Donna had only dragged Rose out here because Rose was the closest thing to a friend she had, not many people liked her rude loud voice.

"I think I like this one." Donna proclaimed, twirling around in a dress that looked exactly like every single thing she'd tried on in the last three hours.

"Great! Let's buy it!" Rose jumped on her slightest comment. She just wanted to get home. She honestly wished she could go and join Clara and Elijah with their weekly coffee.

Donna bit her lip. "What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect!" Rose exaggerated, practically pulling Donna to the register and having her pay for the dress.

Clara rather liked to get coffee with Elijah. Since leaving that dreaded hotel, they had a rather fixed habit of going to the small shop down the road every Sunday, something Rose and John teased them about endlessly. The shop was almost always deserted, and for that they were both eternally grateful.

It didn't take them long to reach the cafe from his house, and she slid carefully slid into the booth, smiling up at Elijah as he left to get coffee. She felt her fingers nervously tapping on the laminated table top.

Her eyes nervously flickered around the room, her foot now tapping along with her fingers, her lips being pummeled by her gnawing teeth, and she figured out why.

Donna's fiancee was in this cafe with them, and he was with another woman. Her eyes widened and her feet and fingers stopped their rapid dance, as she watched the taken man press a kiss to the neck of a woman who sure as hell wasn't Donna.

"Careful, it's hot." Elijah blew off the steam rising from their mugs as he drew closer, trying to move his clumsy limbs in a way that wouldn't end up with the coffee all over Clara and himself. Clara nearly yanked him down into the chair across from him, yanked the mug from his hand, and pretended to gracefully take a sip of coffee while she gestured with her eyebrows for him to look over there. He did, and nearly spat out his coffee when he turned back to Clara.

"What the hell?" he spluttered, rather alarmed, "he's getting married next week!"

"I think we both know that. No need to shout!" she hissed, as Donna's fiance looked their way. "Kiss me!"

"What?"

"Just do it!" he leaned over, and pressed his lips against hers. She pretended to lean into the kiss, even though she was actually rather enjoying herself. It was funny to see how easily he played along, how simple it was for him to pretend to love her.

She pulled away, her eyes darting over to where Donna's fiancee sat. He seemed to have accepted that they weren't paying attention to him at all, and was now snogging the obviously older woman with a passion.

"We need to fix this." she decided at once, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the cafe.

"Clara!" he protested, stopping short and pulling her to a stop. She looked up at him in confusion, her eyebrows pulling slightly together. "why did you kiss me?" he seemed to be searching her eyes for the answer, but all she felt was confusion.

"He was looking our way!" she shrugged, "It was the smartest thing to do." she didn't expect his face to shut down, going devoid of emotion.

"Smartest." he echoed, but his lips slipped around the words like they were marbles.

"Yeah." she gave another tug on his hand, "Come on!" he shook himself.

"Yeah." he repeated, and darted after her.

"Clara. You. Are. Insane." Rose said clearly from the other end. "Lance is the most faithful guy I know."

"Why aren't you listening?" she whispered angrily into the phone, arranging her arms so they weren't scratching against the grass.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because Elijah and I are following Lance. Got to go!" she slipped the phone back into her phone, ignoring Rose's protests.

"Why are we doing this again? You don't even like Donna." he pointed out to her, and she shot him a glare.

"Because it's the right thing to do!" she pointed out, "And if she found out about this years later... what if they had kids?" he sighed, and scooted up to her. They were on the edge of town, lying on their stomachs in front of an old house thought to be abandoned. He wasn't quite sure how Clara expected to call this guy out, but didn't question her motives.

"Kids changes everything." he agreed, pushing himself up on to his elbows, and sighing out of his mouth.

"It so does, doesn't it?" a cold female voice said from behind them. Clara straightened up and was on her feet in less than a second, whirling around. Lance and the woman were behind them, and from up close, the woman was very beautiful. Beautiful, but deadly.

"Why in the world were you following us?" the woman began to approach Clara, but even as she got closer and closer, Clara stayed her ground. "Talk." she said, gripping Clara's chin and forcing her head up. "Or it could very ugly, very quick." Clara simply glared.

"Let her go." Elijah demanded, and suddenly he was stepping in between Clara and the woman. "I dragged her out her, she knows only what she was paid." As she saw the suspension forming in the older woman's eyes, Clara suddenly understood that this was much more than an affair, this was something far darker.

"No, he's lying." she protested, not about to let him take the fall.

"Don't be silly." Elijah burst out, "Of course I'm not. She knows nothing. All she was supposed to do was keep lookout. She thinks it's just about an affair." he lied quickly, and before Clara could protest, Lance seized her by the upper arms, and dragged her back down the road.

"ELIJAH!" she screamed, trying to tear her way out of Lance's sickening grasp. "ELIJAH! DOCTOR!" the last word out of her mouth was a mistake, and she closed her mouth rather suddenly, feeling the comfortable way the word fit in her mouth. What was that about? Before she could protest further, she was hit over the head with a large rock.

She hated herself. She staggered towards the lights of town, one boot missing, tears running freely from her eyes and streaming down her face. She was limping freely now, her foot bleeding on to the stones of the road, and she screamed frantically when she saw a car pulling down the road.

"HELP!" she screamed, jumping in front the headlights. The tires of the car screeched, and the car halted to a stop. "Please, help me." she cried, "My best friend, he was kidnapped. Please." she was sobbing now, as someone pulled her into the car.

Somehow her face found a shoulder, and she clutched it like a newborn, her sobs from earlier returning now in the heat of the moment. This person, smelled like fish fingers and custard for whatever reason, but that was more comforting to her than anything.

"This isn't me." his whisper reached her, and she looked up, confusion evident on her face.

"Elijah?" she whispered.

"No." he said, "I'm your imaginary friend that's actually quite real." Her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth opening in surprise.

"Who are you?" she demanded, moving away from him in surprise. "You're not Elijah, and I'm not making you up."

"My Clara." he said fondly, "This world is centered around you. Not me, because it can't work like that. They can't trap a Time Lord into his own mind, but trap him in a human mind, and he can't seem to find a way out. This whole world is centered around your brain. They had to choose one of my companions brains to model this simulation around, and what better brain than yours?" he seemed to be explaining something to himself more than to her.

"My brain?" she said slowly, and allowed herself another few inches apart from him.

"Not your brain directly," he sighed. "My Clara." he repeated, seeming to enjoy the taste of the words on his lips. "If only you could remeber me."

"Who are you, if you're not Elijah?" she demanded, her hand lightly resting against the door handle of the car. Surely his lanky limbs would slow him down if she tried to run for it.

"The Doctor." he said softly, and he seemed very distressed about the fearful look in her eyes, her body tensed to run. He leaned forward, ignoring her flinch back, and pressed his fingertips to her temples. "You won't remember this, but stay strong my Impossible Girl."

Amy's scream was muffled by a hand. She sat up immediately, her arms and legs flailing, trying to hit at her attacker, but the person dodged her attacks as swiftly and carefully as Rory or the Doctor had learned to do.

"What the hell Rory?" she whispered, because it wasn't the Doctor certainly, come to wake her for another adventure, like he used to in the olden days, with an excited whisper and many hand gestures.

"Hush, Amelia." Elijah, or who she assumed was Elijah, whispered.

"Elijah?" she said in bewilderment, her blurry sleep-filled eyes trying to focus on the figure standing to her left, his hand nervously curled around the edge of the couch. Amy soon realised that she'd fallen asleep waiting for Rory to get home, and that he must have been too tired to carry her to their bed, judging by the blanket once wrapped lovingly around her, now in a scattered heap at her feet, thrown to the floor by her violent kicking.

"No." he said, "Doctor." he seemed exhausted as he sank down next to her, and she rubbed her eyes to get a better look.

"Doctor who?" she asked warily, eyes narrowing slightly. This could all be a trick, she reminded herself.

"When would I ever tell you?" he shot back, and she threw her arms around him. She soon realised she was crying, as he held her close, and she hated crying. She'd cried enough when she was a girl, begging for her Aunt to pay some attention to her. Of course, now that Aunt was just a distant relative (thanks to the crack) , but she still had the memories.

"Doctor." she whispered, "Is that really you?"

"I swear it on fish fingers and custard." he whispered back, and she clutched him tighter once again, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. It had not been a happy day, the day she left him. She'd stumbled upon landing in New York in 1938, her foot catching on a rock and causing her to fall to the ground. She hadn't gotten up, there was no sight of Rory, and despair was kicking in. She still remembered the terrible thought that it was all for nothing, he was gone anyways, and remembered resting her forehead against the ground where the Doctor was surely standing the future, perhaps sobbing over the fact she was gone. She had cried then, tears smearing her makeup which wasn't known to the world, and grave dirt staining her clothes.

She had found Rory a day later, but had soon realised that the angel had sent her back five years after him. He had looked upon her with tears of joy, his voice a shout that turned heads from all around, and a little boy clinging to his knee.

Anthony Williams was a three year old boy that Rory had adopted, and Amy soon filled the role of the little boy's Mother. She was there at his wedding, throughout his whole life, and he was there to care for her when Rory died five years before her. He was the one holding her hand when she passed on, his eyes watery, and she'd smiled up at him, babbling on about adventures with a man in a box, as she called him "Doctor", getting confused again as she did many times.

She clutched to that stupid Time Lord now, the only remnant of what she realised had been a perfect life, and didn't even care that she was getting snot and tears on his tweed.

"My Pond." he said fondly, pulling back a little bit. His eyes were brighter, she noticed immediately, like they had been when she first met him His smile was genuine, as he surveyed her, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "I can't stay."

"Why not?" she demanded sharply, all traces of the previous happiness had suddenly deserted her with those three words.

"Because, they'll bring back Elijah soon." seeing her mouth open in question, he jammed his finger into her lips like he always used too do, silencing her never existing question. "I'm only here because someone killed Elijah."he kept his finger pressed firmly to her lips as she let out a soft gasp. "But they're going to bring him back as soon as they catch me."

"Then we'll hide you!" she said, pushing away the finger and staring him down with the usual fiery look.

"I'm not here Amy." he said patiently, "I'm in the real world, but right now I'm controlling the simulation."

"How do you mean?"

"There's a large chair, that controls this entire world, and I'm sitting in it."

"Why don't you wake everyone up than?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as well as her voice, determined to make him see reason.

"The alarms are blaring." he replied, "I knocked out two of the scientists stationed in the rooms where they've kept us... but I can hear the guards trying to get through the boundary's I've set up. It would take days to hack this, and even then not everyone would wake up, and I couldn't condemn anyone to an endless sleep."

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asked despratly, her hands automatically going to yank his bow tie. He sheltered the small bit of cloth from her, but smiled at the familiarty of those actions.

"Make Clara remember." he told her simply, and she frowned.

"Why can't I make Elijah Smith remember?" she protested, her eyebrows furrowing, and her lips pursing.

"Clara's brain is already weakened by the amount of memories she has. She has had a thousand lives, and right now they're all pressing against the barrior they have put in her mind, so that the slightest things, such as the drug from the hotel, are pushing it to a breaking point. Elijah doesn't have that."

"What could Clara do that I couldn't?"

"She's special. She's such a large part of my life, as large as myself, that only she could reach those parts of my minds, No-" he said, stopping Amy's furious look, "It's to complicated to explain, and I can't do it just now."

"But-" she struggled to find the right words, "Elijah is falling in love with Clara!" For the first time, he looked completely at a lost, and sighing, he put his face into his palms, breathing a long sad sigh.

"Oh, my Pond." he said simply, "I did that a long time ago."

"What about River?"

"What about River." he lifted his face from his hands, and she saw that his eyes were hard now. "She's dead Amy." he said harshly, "and I said goodbye. She left me when I needed her most and-" he broke off, his voice a sudden sob. "She broke my heart okay? And don't give me that satisfied look, because I needed her Clara. And she left me. It was all, 'only one psychopath per TARDIS, and I just-" she stopped him.

"Alright." she said, "So you love Clara?" seeming unsure of himself, he nodded.

"I do." he said, hesitant, "I do!" he said more firmly, a smile spreading across his face.

"Good." she said, "I'm glad you do Raggedy Man, but I can't say I'm not that sad that she crushed your heart like a proper Pond."

"Oi!" he said lightly, but poked her. "I'm going to have to go now.." he broke off, "Remember Amelia," he cupped her face with his palm, "my life in your hands, Amelia Pond."

And then he was gone.

It was hours later when they found him, Elijah, passed out, and his captors were taken to jail. Clara pelted full speed towards the crime scene, despite Rose trying to hold her back, because she needed to see that he was okay with her own eyes.

He was awake, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders and she threw her arms around him with a resounded sob, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Elijah." she sobbed in relief, "Don't ever do that again." None of them noticed Amy standing behind them, staring at Elijah with a newfound appreciation. Amy turned away, a grin spreading across her face.

Things were about to get real. She thought to herself with a grim smile.

"The TimeLord could have escaped!" he roared, and his hand cracked across her face, making her wince in pain.

"Good." she spat, and this time didn't dodge the knife that was heading for her gut.