A/N: I'm really very sorry I've taken so long to update. Thank you to all who have favorited, followed, and reviewed. Your support has helped me through this long gap! I'd like to say that I'll try to update sooner, but I don't want to make any promises. Rest assured, however, that I am not abandoning Jenny and the Doctor to their fate. I love them too much :)
This chapter is rated PG, because of violence and gore.
"I've never been in a ship like this. It's insane."
Clara lowers her mug of tea, setting it on the counter. She looks at Ben, who has just shuffled into the kitchen, and asks, "How do you mean?"
"There's a pool in the room next to mine. And I was trying to find the bathroom but got lost in a forest, instead." He glances down at the dirt covering his socks with parts confusion and shame. "There were mushrooms and everything."
Clara laughs. "Yeah, she does that. My first month here she kept switching my bedroom with the cinema. Ended up foregoing sleep to watch alien crime films. Some were fairly interesting, once the translation circuit kicked in."
Returning her smile, Ben says, "Hope you watched Silurian Murder. Best Andy James mystery I've seen this side of the Redbar Galaxy." He grabs a handful of towels, attempts to dispel some of the dirt he tracked in, then gives it up as a bad job. A moment later the soil vanishes, accompanied by an exasperated hum that Ben is not sure he can explain.
Taking a sip from her mug, Clara moves to the table. She sits, placing her tea down, then stretches with a sigh. "Haven't seen that one, I'm afraid. I'm sure she has it, though. She has everything."
Joining her at the table, Ben says, "You keep saying 'she'. Who is she?"
"The ship, of course," Clara replies. "The Doctor always referred to her as a she, and I never understood why, in the beginning. But then, I met her." Her hands fold around the warm mug with a smile. "She was so beautiful. And wild. Just like he is. They're a perfect fit, this one even more so."
"You sound jealous," Ben says.
Clara giggles again, meeting his scrutiny steadily. "Oh, goodness, no. I mean, I used to be, sure. If you had asked me that with his last face, I would probably have said I was. But now?" She shakes her head, smile still lingering on her lips.
"What changed?"
"He did. The regeneration process, it's—it's a bit dodgy, really. And he's still the Doctor, still the same silly alien, same memories, same ideals, but he's really not the same. Not in personality. Or feelings. And," she says with a blush, "how could I be jealous with Mr. Pink around?"
Ben laughs. "Mr. Pink? Really?"
"He prefers Danny, but I like to annoy him."
"So, where is he?" Ben looks around the kitchen, as if expecting the mysterious Pink to be hiding in a cupboard somewhere and pop out at the mention of his name.
"Oh, he's back home. He—he doesn't really like…this. This lifestyle, I suppose." She pauses, taking an audible sip of her tea, then says brightly, "So! Ben. How is Jenny faring with the information overload? And you. You must be finding it difficult, finally meeting her father and all that."
He shakes his head. "Not really. Haven't spoken to the man much, to be honest. He and Jen have been cooped up a lot, you know? I think he's teaching her about his people. Their people, I suppose. I hardly see her anymore."
Clara clucks sympathetically. "There will be time. I'm sure there's only so much he can tell her."
"Yeah. You know—"
The lights flicker as the TARDIS jolts suddenly, halting Ben's words in their tracks. Clara's empty mug clatters to the floor, cracking into several pieces. Ben lists to the side, falling out of his chair with an embarrassed grunt. "What the hell?!" he exclaims.
Clara stands. "Let's go—"
The Doctor bounds into the kitchen, Jenny trailing behind him, clearly excited and bursting with energy. "Clara! What are you doing in here? There is…stuff! Stuff! Outside!"
"Ben, get your coat! It's snow!" Jenny is even more boisterous than her father, particularly because she has never jumped to a planet that has cold precipitation. Frigid temperatures, certainly, but all of the interesting, white crystals she had seen floating to the ground on the TARDIS monitor is something completely new.
Ben grins faintly. "Snow? That horrible white junk that sticks in your hair and melts on your clothes?"
Jenny looks affronted. "It's not horrible! And it's certainly not junk. Father said it's brilliant to jump in, and throw, and build things with."
"Yes, very useful tool, it is," the Doctor interrupts. "The people of Igloonia first used it on their planet to create homes. A few of them came to Earth and pitied the stupid apes," he pauses with a warning look from Clara, "ah, I mean, the humans that were freezing to death, and voila! Igloos were born. Made, of course, not born. Can't birth a block of ice and snow. I suspect it would be dreadfully chilly."
They laugh, and Jenny grabs Ben's hand. "Come on, Ben! Let's go build a snowman."
Jenny shivers, catching her breath against a snow-soaked tree. The echoes of screams follow her deeper into the forest as she pushes off, running further and faster than she dares. "Run," he had told her. And she will follow that command to the ends of the universe if she needs to.
The virgin snow had quickly bled; splotches of it had marred the pristine beauty everywhere they had turned. Nothing they had seen had been alive; they had only found bodies, slight figures that littered the forest floor like broken leaves. Jenny had cried out upon exiting the TARDIS, unable to comprehend the horror before her. She had wanted to dart back into the ship and leave this terrible scene behind her, a notion Ben seconded wholeheartedly. But Clara and the Doctor refused; they were used to this sort of chaos, used to dashing into the dangerous unknown and saving as many lives as they could.
Clara had been lost first. Her old Doctor had always grabbed hands, running with companions in tow. This Doctor has an aversion to touching, and inevitably leaves stragglers behind. They had not paused in their haste to escape the murderous natives they had found, no time to ensure the safety of the entire group. It was only once the Doctor had shouted, pointing at a clear area through the trees, that they had been able to realize their party of four had whittled to three.
"Where's Clara?" the Doctor had said, his voice low and calm. When none of the present company had been able to respond, he had shrugged and ran further into the forest. Caught off guard by this display of heedlessness, Ben and Jenny were late in following, and that was how the Doctor was lost. Ben had looked dismayed, turning to Jenny, his mouth opening. Whatever he had been ready to say, however, was lost, for at that moment shadowy hands had grabbed him through the darkness and had pulled him into the trees beyond reach.
And Jenny was alone.
She treads through the dark carefully, wincing every time her foot catches a fallen twig. The screams had long since faded. She knows not where she is, or where anyone else could be. Ben, Clara, her father, they could all be dead for all she knows. She trembles, stumbling over a root, falling into the snow with a broken sob. Her previous excitement feels like a lifetime ago, replaced by stark fear. Every whisper of the breeze is sinister; every distant echo of a voice makes her jump and turn. She has never been more frightened, or more alone.
Snatches of sound. Glimpses of gore-splattered snow. Someone is following her; she speeds up, and they match her stride. She wants to glance over her shoulder, but fears she will fall if she does. She wants to call out, but knows that the natives will instantly find her the moment she makes a sound louder than a whisper. Whoever it is gasps for breath, and Jenny quickens her pace even more, until she finally succumbs to an exposed root and lands once more on the snow.
Her pursuer reaches her, and she barely has time to flip over before a soft voice says, "Jenny?"
Surprise and elation lace her response. "Clara? We thought—we thought you were dead!"
Clara extends a hand to Jenny, helping her to her feet. "Nope, not dead. Not this time, anyway. Where's Ben? Where's the Doctor?"
"Ben was…he was t-taken."
"Taken? By what?"
"I-I'm not—I don't know." She gasps and clutches Clara, clinging to her lest she disappear again and leave her alone in this wretched place. Clara returns the embrace briefly, glancing around the cold, darkened forest as she lets go.
"Come on," she says with an air of authority; the absence of the Doctor and the lack of experience on the part of the young girl trembling next to her forces Clara into the role of leader, one that she is realizing is happening far too often of late. "We need to find the others. Let's go this way." She points at a gap in the trees where a path sits, covered in bloodied, clawed tracks, courtesy of the natives. "Looks like it leads directly to the massacre, but I guarantee that's where we'll find the Doctor, if he's still alive."
"That looks promising," Jenny says sardonically, fear fading now that they have a plan.
"It's better than stumbling through the woods blindly," Clara replies hotly.
Jenny puts her hands up in a placating gesture, motioning to the path with a small smile. "Let's go, then."
The bloody trail winds through the trees, often briefly becoming lost where snow had not built up, but eventually Jenny and Clara make it to a clearing in the forest, where a scene lays that is something out of a nightmare. Bodies are piled in the corners like grotesque pyramids staining the snow, melting it into maroon slush. In the centre, surrounded by a circle of armed natives, is the Doctor and Ben, both bound, with their hands behind them, to a stake planted in an unlit fire pit. The Doctor's eyebrows are going haywire as he shouts at the creatures circling them. Clara doesn't think calling them "green and stupid" will help much, but the Doctor never had much tact. All color is drained from Ben's face; his eyes are dark in contrast against the paleness of his skin. Jenny's hearts ache for him; his fear is palpable and cuts through the murderous gloom around them, striking Jenny and causing her own dread to return at full force. She turns to Clara as they duck behind a tree to watch the scene unfold before them.
"What do we do?" she whispers. Clara has more experience with rescue missions than Jenny, and she is more than willing to let the brunette take lead.
Eyeing the clearing warily, Clara says, "Well, there must be at least thirty of them there. That's more than you and I could take, especially without weapons. And the Doctor is too busy arguing with those things. I don't know if he even has a plan, or if he'll be able to help at all. He's quite useless, actually."
In spite of the tumultuous anxiety she feels, Jenny smiles. "Most men are, really."
Clara quietly laughs. "Yes. Well, I think what we need to do," she starts, watching the Doctor attempt to gesticulate angrily at the creature walking towards the pit with a lit torch, "is create a diversion. Something to get them free so we can run. We wouldn't be able to kill them all—plus, that's really not the Doctor's style. Or mine, for that matter."
"Nor mine. Not anymore."
Clara glances at Jenny inquiringly but keeps her question to herself. Not the time and definitely not the place for her curiosity. "Right. If we're to do this, it needs to be quick. I'll cause a distraction, while you go untie them. We'll meet back at the TARDIS in ten minutes, yeah?"
"Sure," Jenny replies, relief spreading through her. She hesitates, almost making the offer to be the decoy instead, but the fear she feels will not let her. She hates feeling like a coward, but this planet and this massacre is so much worse than a war between the humans and the Hath. She knows how to fight; she doesn't know how to run. "Be careful, Clara," she says.
Clara smiles. "Always. You ready?"
Jenny nods, and with a squeeze of her hand, Clara is running swiftly yet silently through the woods. Jenny wonders how often Clara has had to do this sort of thing since beginning her travels with the Doctor. Poised at the edge of the clearing, she waits for a signal from Clara. The creature with the flaming torch stalks closer to the centre, eyeing the yelling Doctor with malice.
"Come on, Clara," Jenny whispers, and as if on cue an ear-splitting scream wrenches through the woods in the direction Clara disappeared. The creatures begin to chatter excitedly, pulling spears from the ground or yanking them from the bodies with disgusting squelches. They hurry of towards the sounds of Clara crashing through the trees, weapons held aloft in triumph. The torch holder chitters angrily at the Doctor and throws the flame on the pit, which immediately ignites. A gasp of horror escaping her, Jenny runs forward, entering the clearing just as the last native disappears into the woods.
"Jen!" Ben's relief is palpable, but her reply is interrupted by the Doctor, who continues shouting, heedless of the flames licking at their feet.
"It's about time! You'd think that you were human, as slow as you move. I suppose Clara drew them away? Brave girl. And you're the rescue, are you? Well, stop drooling like an ape and get over here!"
She scowls, dashing behind the pit, but says nothing in response. There would be time later to berate her father's lack of gratitude. Eyeing the ropes hurriedly, she is pleased to see that they are tied very crudely. She makes quick work of them, and in moments both the Doctor and Ben are patting the fire from their trouser legs and hurrying into the woods, Jenny close behind. They run in the direction of the TARDIS; Jenny can feel her worried hum in her mind, leading them to safety, and knows the Doctor can as well. Ben follows them both without question, desperate to leave this place and go somewhere nice. Somewhere with absolutely no bloody snow. They hear a crashing behind them, and in seconds Clara joins them, sharing an adrenaline-filled grin with the Doctor.
"They're right behind me," she says. "I hope we're close!"
"She's right through these trees," he replies, and the four of them put on a burst of speed, dashing past the thinning trees into the field where the blue ship stands. She is pulsing with nervous energy, and Jenny has a moment to panic as the ship reaches out to her in fear—what could make the TARDIS afraid? And then several things happen at once.
The Doctor, understanding the timeline the TARDIS is showing him, lets out a panicked shout and the TARDIS doors swing open so violently the resounding crash echoes through the meadow. Clara dives for the opening, landing painfully on the grating, and Jenny is right behind her, tripping over her feet in her haste. She looks around and the Doctor meets her eyes sadly. He turns, and she follows his gaze as a native leaps past the trees and throws a spear, piercing Ben neatly in the back, who is still some distance from the TARDIS. He falls as if in slow motion, a look of surprise etched on his face, and when he hits the ground with a dull thud time speeds up again. The rest of the natives scream with fury as the Doctor dashes into the TARDIS, closing the door with finality.
He immediately grabs Jenny as she rushes forward, intent on yanking open the doors to receive Ben, who is really only right behind the doors, if only they were open, why isn't anyone going to open them? She struggles against her father; she can hear someone screaming and realizes that is her, but she can't stop, Ben is out there, and the Doctor won't let her go, tightens his hold as she continues shrieking so forcefully it feels as if her throat is bleeding with the strain. The Doctor meets Clara's gaze, who looks back from her position on the floor, aghast at the suddenness of Ben's death.
"Help me, Clara!" His daughter is still sobbing in his grasp, clawing at his hands hysterically. The natives' incessant screeching and pounding on the other side of the doors are increasing, and while he knows they will never breach the ship, he needs to get them away, for Jenny's sake. Clara hurries to his side, wrapping her arms tightly around Jenny, whose struggles continue without respite, as the Doctor lets go. He scrambles for the console, throwing levers and pushing buttons left and right until the familiar whirring starts. In the bloodied field, the natives blink with confusion as their blue quarry disappears. They move, surrounding Ben's body. They lift it high and cart it off into the frozen night, triumphant, at least, in this one death of a fallen foe.