Series 9: What We Deserve
Warnings: dark themes, violence, torture, m/f, f/f & m/f/f relationships, explicit scenes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did…damn you, Moffat! Nor do I own anything to do with the world of Divergent. I'm just playing.
Summary: Wherein there are choices to be made and Clara needs a break. The Doctor and Missy encounter a ghost from the past.
A/N: Apologies for the lack of updates. But have a bumper chapter on me!
Clara wasn't sure how long she'd been stuck in this dull grey box. After they'd been captured and marched off to the large skyscraper the Doctor had called Sears Tower, she'd been separated from the Doctor and Missy, and placed in here.
It wasn't a cell, per se. Clara had seen enough cells, and been stuck in enough, to know what one looked like. This one looked like a disused broom cupboard hastily made to look like a cell. It was almost an insult to the very concept of a cell. Michel Foucault would have been appalled. If it weren't for the guards outside the door, all carrying guns with the safety catches conspicuously set in the 'off' position, Clara would have been tempted to try and escape. As it was, she wouldn't make it ten feet down the hall and she didn't know where the Doctor and Missy were.
She was cold, and there was nowhere to sit in her makeshift cell. She was seriously considering kicking up a fuss just for something to do when she felt it. A nudge, a gentle tap like a hand patting her on the head.
And then only agony as her head exploded, and the singing returned. She collapsed to her knees, cradling her head, mouth open in a silent scream. As suddenly as the pain started, it stopped and she was left on hands and knees, panting against the floor.
Motherf…the thought started to form in her head, a knee-jerk reaction, as she gasped for breath. A familiar voice cut her off amusedly.
Now, now darling, no need for that language!
Missy.
Clara let out an audible groan at the thought. She levered herself into a sitting position, back against the cold wall. Great, just what I need. Head full of lunatic…
I can hear you, dear. Contrary to what you once onerously believed, I could always hear you thus linked. Now sit and look prettily vacant so our observers won't know something's wrong, came the sarcastic reply in her head.
Clara sighed and leant her head on her folded arms, head aching. Where's the Doctor? Where did they put you?
Some measly little excuse for a cell. I don't know where the Doctor went, but somewhere similar, I'd expect. I'm in contact with him right now; his sonic screwdriver has been confiscated. I don't suppose you still have my disintegrator on you? Missy asked, as Clara felt her heart seize at the thought.
It took her a moment, but then she remembered. Ahh…I left it in the Tardis.
She could feel Missy's sigh in her head as if she was sitting right in front of her. Ah well, better there than stuck in these apes' hands. In that case then, we will need to play along until we can reach the Tardis. We need to get our stories straight in case we're questioned separately.
Clara felt a chill at the thought of 'questioning'. She really hoped it didn't mean what she feared it meant. What is our story? She asked tiredly.
Travellers looking for shelter. Survivors of some attack or other….
A convoy. We were part of a convoy and we were attacked, Clara thought, her natural skill at lying coming into play. This is a recovering war zone, from the looks of things.
Good girl…
Missy's voice soothed the pain in her head, and she sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. Its chill felt good against her hot skin.
It happened again, didn't it? When I made contact, the singing, it came back again…
Clara fought to ignore that little voice in her head, refusing to answer. The warmth that had flooded her, against her own volition, when she heard a friendly voice made more self-loathing wash over her for feeling that warmth.
She closed her eyes, trying to put her defences back up, but Missy wasn't giving up without a fight. She felt a hand press against her hair, caressing gently, and her head jerked up, eyes wide. Missy was stood in her cell in front of her, a pitying expression in her cruel eyes.
"What the hell?" Clara shot to her feet, mouth agape. "How-?"
"Oh, this is still all in your head, Clara dearest," the Time Lady smiled, stepping closer. Clara backed up against the wall, before berating herself for being so stupid. "This method just takes more effort."
Before Clara could move, or muster up a retort, Missy boxed her in, her hands either side of Clara's shoulders as she leaned in. To her internal disgust, Clara felt desire rush through her as Missy's lips brushed hers, and she shuddered. "Now…" the Time Lady murmured. "Since we look set to be stuck here for quite some time…"
"What are you doing?" Clara gasped, regaining her wits for a millisecond, as mischief sparked in Missy's eyes.
"What does it look like?" she muttered scornfully. "You've been avoiding me, Clara. And I think some mindscape-prison-cell-make-up-sex is just what the Doctor ordered."
"The Doctor didn't-?" Clara breathed, as Missy laughed.
"Well, technically, not in so many words. But he did tell me to keep an eye on you, since we have a pre-existing bond and he does not," she grinned, cutting off Clara's retort with a nip to her lower lip. "Now stop having a moral heart attack, silly human, and just kiss me."
With that, she leaned in and captured Clara's lips, then her mouth, with ease. It was a strange thing, to know she was in her own head, to feel Missy's mind so intricately linked to hers, and to feel her body as it was real, pressed against hers. But it wasn't real, and Clara's starved lust would settle for this, if it couldn't have the real thing. She pressed back into the kiss feverishly, feeling Missy's hands leave the wall either side of her to grip her waist and nape of her neck-
"Hey! Wakey-wakey!" a voice, loud and annoyingly intrusive, pulled Clara from her mental lip lock with Missy, throwing her head-first back into reality. She gasped as her head jerked up, just as she was pulled to her feet by strong but not cruel hands. It was one of the black-clad, tattooed guards from before, but this time Clara was close enough to see the flash of scarlet red and aquamarine blue in her blonde hair. "Time to go face the music!"
"What? Where am I going? Where are you taking me?!" Clara tried to protest as she was propelled out the door and frogmarched down the corridor, accompanied by two other guards. "Where are my…friends?"
"They'll be waiting for you," the blonde guard replied exasperatedly. "Now get going pansycake, before I get tempted to use my taser on you and have done with it."
Eying the black holster at her hip, Clara decided to play it safe, for once, and curb her tongue until she found the others. Being smart was the better part of valour, after all.
She barely realised that her bond to Missy had been temporarily severed, with not a trace of the Time Lady in her mind, and she determinedly quelled the sharp pang of disappointment for what had been interrupted. She didn't try to quell the need to see them and make sure they were alright.
Clara was led along several corridors and up several flights of stairs, making her glad she was quite fit from her life with the Doctor. And from running with Danny on the weekends.
The thought sent a pang through her as she grimaced to herself, when they finally, finally, stopped in a small anteroom. Directly opposite her were a set of double doors, while immediately to her left was a large window looking out over the cityscape, and Clara could finally see they were at least a hundred stories up. Grouped around the window were two threadbare-looking sofas, and rising from those sofas was the Doctor and Missy.
"Clara!" the Doctor called as she was nudged towards them by her ever-so-friendly guard. "You ok?"
Clara turned to glare at her escort, who just winked and called over her shoulder as she walked away, "See you around, pansycake!"
"I'm fine," Clara said, turning back to the Doctor and Missy. At his questioning look, she shrugged and muttered, "Don't ask."
Neither of her companions looked ruffled while Clara felt like she needed a good shower and a cup of hot chocolate desperately. But her pride wouldn't let her show it, especially not now. She avoided Missy's piercing, assessing gaze and firmly held the Doctor's icy blue one. "I'm good, Doctor," she stated again, softer this time, and she was relieved to see the worry seep out of his eyes a little. It warmed her inside, and let her slip back into their old companionship, if only for a moment. "Why are we here?"
"Oh, probably some sort of interrogation," Missy trilled delightedly from the side, making both her companions glare at her.
"I overheard my guard talking about some sort of Council. We're probably here to see them and explain our sudden appearance in the city," the Doctor added, less cheerily. "Just follow my lead, and we'll be fine, Clara."
Inwardly, Clara wasn't so, sure as their remaining guard gestured to them to go inside, as the doors opened with an ominous creak of hinges badly needing oiling.
They entered a towering chamber, arranged in a concentric circle lined with seats going up in staggered rows, almost up to the eaves. At the centre was a small raised platform, containing five small plinths. In front of them stood eighteen people, ten dressed entirely in shapeless, grey garments, five in the same black as their guards, tattooed and pierced, one dressed smartly in tailored blue, one in black and white and finally one in flowing garments of red and yellow.
The ones in grey and the one in red and yellow smiled welcomingly at them, but the others watched them stonily. Clara felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine, and wondered at the fact she'd felt cold only a few moments ago. When they came to a halt in front of the stage, one of the grey-clad groups stepped forward.
"Welcome," he started. "My name is Jonas Eaton, and I am the leader of the governing Council of this city."
Clara saw the black-clad group sigh and roll their eyes, practically in concert, at Jonas's pompous, droning voice, and felt a burst of fellow feeling. He reminded her of her old head teacher.
"Hello there," the Doctor started, with a friendly smile. Or at least, Clara knew it was meant to be friendly. She'd never had the heart to tell him it was actually quite threatening and terrifying paired with those eyebrows of his. "My name…is Doctor John Smith, this is Missy Saxon and this is Clara Oswald."
Clara mentally sniggered at that, as she saw Missy throw him a subtle, glancing glare. "We're so sorry to intrude; we're travellers and we-"
"Travellers, you say?" one of the black-clad group stepped forward, a great hulking beast of a man with multiple ear piercing and a tribal tattoo on his shoulder. "We know that's a lie. Nothing survived after the war, except for this city."
"Well, clearly not since we're standing right in front of you," Missy quipped sarcastically, as Clara mentally rolled her eyes. She stepped forward, drawing all eyes to her, including the Doctor's.
"We were part of a small group. We'd travel around in convoy, for safety you see," she offered, careful to avoid any of the signs of lying she'd read about. She'd become far too good at lying.
"'Were'? 'For safety'? What happened? And how many were you?" the man dressed in black and white suddenly asked, eying her narrowly, making Clara feel like she was being x-rayed by his look alone.
"I'd advise you not to lie. Michael is of Candour, they are trained to detect lying," Jonas warned her sternly, as she nodded, bemused. What was Candour?
"There were fifty of us," she began, letting her pain and her inner turmoil show through in her voice and her expression, but painting it a different shade. "There were more, but it started a few months ago. We'd stop for camp, go to sleep, and then in the morning we would find people missing. Only a few at a time, but it kept happening. Night after night, we didn't know what to do. We saw the lights of the city in the distance, you see, and we thought maybe we'd found some civilisation at last. And then last night…they attacked again."
"'They'?" the woman in red and yellow pressed gently. "Who were 'they', my dear?"
"Monsters. Things, mutants. I thought they were human at first, but up close…" Clara shuddered and fell silent, refusing to meet the Doctor's stare drilling into her side. In her head, she heard only Missy's silent mental applause. Bravo, my dear, bravo.
"They took everyone, we tried to fight but," Clara shuddered again, as if fighting to speak. "In the end, we ran away. There was nothing we could do, except die too."
"Your clothes are in remarkably good condition then, for such a frantic scramble across the countryside. And why do you speak funny? I've never heard anybody speak like that before," the Hulk-wannabe spoke again, suspiciously, as Jonas held his hand up. Clara decided then, for the sake of her masquerade, now would be good for her to explode.
"I've always talked like this, it's just my accent! I'm not lying! We hid not far from the camp then went back in daylight to get some clothes!" she snapped, meeting his eyes defiantly before looking to Jonas and Michael, the Candour whatever.
"While it might be possible they're simply Factionless, their clothing is far too new and clearly well-maintained, even with our clothing programmes," one of the grey group suddenly spoke up. "And their names are unfamiliar."
"True," Michael mused, making all look at him. "The girl isn't lying, and the other two haven't given any indication to the contrary."
"And the girl has clearly suffered some great tragedy," the red and yellow woman suddenly piped up, making Clara eye her mutinously. She smiled patiently, revealing rows of slightly crooked white teeth. "I can see it, my dear. You're unhappy and haunted by some inner pain. Your friends aren't much better off."
"But how did they get in, if what they've said is true?" the woman in blue interjected, one fine brow raised. "There are constant Dauntless patrols, and dozens of Amity workers in the fields. I find it hard to believe they could have breached the perimeter fence unseen."
"We're used to hiding," Missy replied. "And taking opportunities when we see them, to survive. We found a gap in the fence, just enough to slip through. It wasn't hard."
"We could dose them with truth serum. Find it hard to lie then," one of the black-clad group offered, earning himself a swift, quelling glance from the Hulk wannabe.
"Do you doubt my capabilities?" Michael snorted contemptuously, as some of the grey lot looked thoughtful, the blue woman looked bored, the black-clad group started shouting and the woman in red and yellow just rolled her eyes.
The meeting descended into anarchy as Clara watched, wide-eyed. Suddenly, she started as she felt cool fingers brush against hers. They were long and callused, and Clara didn't need to look at Missy stood on the Doctor's other side to know they weren't hers. It was the Doctor brushing her hand reassuringly, squeezing gently. But when she risked a glance at him, his face was carefully blank while his eyes just looked sad and worried.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, feeling annoyed, Clara looked away and withdrew her hand.
Finally Jonas seemed to regain control as he shouted above the conundrum. "ENOUGH! We have heard their testimony. The question is do we trust our own in this moment, or not? Michael has said he sees no deceit in their story and Andrea has corroborated that. Now we must decide what to do with them."
Clara's annoyance only rose at the way he was talking about them like they weren't even there.
"Simple," the blue-clad woman offered, shrugging her elegant shoulders. "We test them then they can be offered the Choice. I see no reason they cannot be useful members of our society. If they are capable of integrating, of course."
"We don't want any Divergents slipping through," the Hulk wannabe agreed with a brusque nod. "There's also the issue of these…creatures we need to sort out."
"That can be left until later," Jonas waved him away. "I'm sure you can organise more patrols on the fence until then? Good, then we just need to agree on the testing."
"Excuse me? Testing?" the Doctor asked plaintively, brows furrowed dangerously.
"What are Divergents?" Clara asked at the same time, as the council members stared at them as if they'd only just remembered they were there.
"Divergents are people incapable of conforming to our society's system, that of the factions," the woman in blue explained coolly. "Our society is divided into five factions to keep the peace in our society: Dauntless for the brave, Erudite for the intelligent, Amity for the kind, Candour for the honest and Abnegation for the selfless."
What a quaint little system…Missy's voice floated through Clara's head, and she sent back a mental glare. Now was not the time.
"Each faction fulfils a specific function: the Dauntless are our security force, the Erudite provide all our doctors, teachers and scientists, Amity farm the land and feed the city, Candour provide our lawyers, judges and journalists, and Abnegation run the government. Even our clothing is dictated by our faction system, as the Erudite wear blue, Abnegation wear grey, Dauntless wear black, Candour wear black and white and the Amity wear red and yellow. At the age of sixteen, our dependents take an Aptitude Test to determine which faction they would best serve. Then, they are given the right to Choose which faction they will devote the rest of their lives to," the woman continued in her explanation. "Divergents cannot conform to this system. They are a dire threat to our society…"
"Yes, we've all heard the propaganda, Jessica," Jonas interrupted her coldly, eliciting a coolly angry glare from the woman. "I'm sure that's not the case with these three. I think we'll let you rest tonight, then we'll test you tomorrow and you can Choose tomorrow afternoon. Usually, we allow twenty-four hours between the test and the Choice but since you're all full-grown adults, I'm sure it will take less time for you to decide."
"The test is just a guide," the woman in red and yellow interjected abruptly, earning herself an impatient sigh from Jonas. "You can choose any of the five factions, as if the right of any dependent. I dearly hope you will consider Amity."
After that, the trio were escorted to a large room furnished with comfortable looking sofas. Clara turned to the Doctor, who held up his hand warningly.
Just then, a guard entered with a tray of food and drink, leaving it on a small table and exiting the room with a curious look at the trio. Clara glimpsed more guards outside, and understood his silent warning. They were still being observed.
"You may as well eat, Clara. Keep your strength up," the Doctor said quietly, and she nodded, looking over the tray. There was sandwiches, cartons of juice and some apples. She took an apple and toyed with it, not really hungry. She forced herself to eat it, and the sandwich too, knowing she might need the energy later. The Doctor and Missy touched nothing, the former staring out the window broodingly while the latter lounged insouciantly on one of the sofas.
Clara had just finished her meal when the door opened again, to reveal the Hulk wannabe holding the sonic screwdriver. "Care to explain what this is?" he asked bluntly, waving it at the Doctor.
He shrugged. "A small handheld torch for working," he lied, stepping closer to the Dauntless man. "Completely harmless. Just press the button."
Clara knew the sonic was far more complicated than that, so just pressing the button wouldn't do anything but make a noise. The Hulk wannabe did so, and shrugged when nothing happened but the familiar buzzing of the sonic and the green light flashed on. He tossed it to the Doctor without another word, and left.
Clara held her breath as the Doctor turned back to the window, arms crossed. Outside it was turning to night, as she heard the sound of the sonic once again.
"Now we can talk quietly," the Doctor breathed. "I just sent a signal to interfere with any audio bugs they might have. Can't do anything about the cameras, that'd be too obvious so don't get excited."
"Well done on that marvellous exhibition of deception, Clara," Missy hissed with a smirk. "You have taught her well, Doctor."
Clara once again glimpsed that troubled look in his eye, and sighed, her earlier annoyance rising to the fore again. "What are we going to do?" she asked, trying to get things back on less potentially troubling tracks. "I really don't fancy being 'Tested' or whatever they were going on about."
"I'm afraid we might have to," the Doctor sighed. "The building might be a little ramshackle, but their security is airtight. We'd never make it back to the Tardis, even if it was still in the same place."
"At least they bought my story," Clara muttered. "So what are we going to do- wait, what!? The Tardis is gone?! When were you going to share that little piece of information?!"
"I only found out myself just before we were dragged into that audience chamber," he retorted heatedly. "My cell was just off their security centre, presumably, because I was frogmarched through there and saw the CCTV while my guards were indulging in banter."
Banter, really? Clara mentally rolled her eyes at that one.
"Anyway, I saw the alleyway we were parked in. The Tardis is gone," the Doctor finished slightly awkwardly.
"Well, that's just perfect!" Missy muttered. "Stuck in this dismal little hole with a bunch of trigger-happy apes. Wonderful! It'll be a miracle if I don't kill someone just to relieve the boredom!"
"I'm sorry!" the Doctor snapped, before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, the most obvious possibility is that it's been taken. So either they know something's up and they're just playing with us, or there's some other force at work here. Either way, we've no choice but to play along until we can find the Tardis."
"But which faction should we choose?" Clara asked, getting tired of the arguments. Her head was aching. "Assuming none of us are Divergent…"
"There's a possibility of that," Missy interjected thoughtfully. "I can feel their minds and something feels…odd."
"How so?" the Doctor asked curiously.
"Something is wrong with them. Take Clara's mind, for example. Even with all those echoes banging around in there, giving her a headache, her mind is strong and unbroken. Pure. There's something missing from these others, something broken in them and I suspect they're not even aware of it," Missy explained, as Clara reeled from her compliment. She felt her gaze but avoided it.
"So the question remains: which faction are we going to choose?" she asked again, determinedly.
"I would say Erudite. If the Tardis has been taken, it'll be their scientists who'll be examining it," the Doctor said firmly.
"What about Dauntless? Even if they know it's alien, surely the faction in charge of security would be holding it? Or know where it's being held?" Clara countered, feeling Missy's eyes watching her.
"I doubt Dauntless would welcome us with open arms," the Doctor remarked dryly, and Clara bristled at his dismissal. "Didn't you notice all of the representatives on the Council were in their late twenties at the oldest? While all the other faction representatives were late thirties at the youngest? Something tells me Dauntless wouldn't accept two recruits who look to be older, and while we are stronger than humans, I don't want that fact to become public knowledge."
"Speak for yourself, old man," Missy retorted sarcastically, as the Doctor sent her a narrow glare. Clara held his stare defiantly when he looked back at her, and his gaze didn't soften.
"We stick together, Clara," he said firmly. "Do as you are told."
Something exploded in Clara at that command, but she didn't let anything show on the surface. Inwardly, she rebelled but outwardly, she just shrugged and settled down on one of the sofas, suddenly exhausted by everything that had happened. It was a warm night so she didn't feel cold as she determinedly turned her back on the two Gallifreyans, and forced herself to go to sleep.
They came for them early the next morning, watching while Clara wolfed down her breakfast of toast and coffee while the Doctor and Missy picked at theirs, before escorting them down to the basement of the building, where there was a large open room, lined with mirrors, waiting for them.
In the very centre of the room was a chair, partially reclining, next to a table on which rested a computer, and three vials of blue liquid. Sat at the table was a man in Amity red and yellow.
"Hi, I'm Jamie," he jumped up and bounded across to the trio, shaking their hands in turn. Or rather, he tried to. Missy froze him with a predatory glare when he reached for her hand. "Okayyy, not you. Anyway, I'll be your test administrator today."
He was a livewire. He reminded Clara of a Jack Russell terrier as he bounced on the balls of his feet, with a happy, excited grin on his face. "You can leave now," he said to the guards, who Clara was surprised to see left without comment. "It's tradition that only the test-takers and the administrators are present in the Testing room. I mean, this isn't exactly traditional but…" he shrugged insouciantly.
"What are you? Amity?" Clara asked, curiously.
"Yup. Born in Erudite, but not really for me. All wayyy too boring and stiff-upper-lipped," Jamie laughed. "I can still help out with the food production research, so I get the best of both worlds, although don't tell anyone I said that."
Clara was half-expecting him to say 'lol' at the end of his sentences.
"Right, in the test you'll be offered a series of choices to test your aptitude for each faction, until you get one result. Most get their factions of origin, but since you don't have one, it'll be even more exciting to see your results," Jamie enthused, and Clara could see the Erudite underneath his happy Amity exterior.
"Yes, about that," the Doctor began. "There might be a problem, for me and Missy."
"Oh? You're not going to tell me you're actually Divergent…" Jamie began jokingly, before the blood leached from his features. "You're not, are you?"
"Would that scare you?" Missy enquired sweetly, with a fierce grin. Clara rolled her eyes.
"We don't know about that," the Doctor explained quickly. "Look, I need to know I can trust you, Jamie. Can I trust you?"
From the look of terror warring with his excitement, Jamie was seemingly wavering. Clara sighed impatiently.
"They're aliens," she blurted out. "Well, those two are. I'm not, just good old-fashioned human."
"I'm not sure there's anything good about that, honey," Missy remarked snidely.
"Rather human than freaky-dinky alien right now. At least he doesn't look like he's planning to ship me off to a science lab," Clara replied mock-sweetly.
"A-alien? That's not possible!?" Jamie began to splutter, before the Doctor sighed, removed a stethoscope from his immeasurably deep pockets and held it to his hearts, proffering it to Jamie. Clara watched as terror turned to awe, as he stared up at the Doctor. "You're…wait, why alien? Couldn't you be one of those mutant things you mentioned yester-?
Realisation dawned.
"You lied about that," Jamie said to Clara. "You actually managed to lie to a Candour. And an Amity who used to be a Candour. Impressive."
"Look, human, we didn't exactly mean to come here. But we did and our means of transportation has been taken. We need to blend in until we can find it and then we'll be on our merry way," Missy interjected impatiently, folding her arms. Clara half-expected her to start tapping her boot toe too.
"But if you're not human, then," Jamie frowned. "The test might not work for you. Here, try!"
He held out one of the vials to the Doctor, who glanced at Missy. Who just snorted. "I'm not into that whole 'trustingly naïve' shebang. You go right ahead, Doctor."
"Funny, thought you could smell poison a mile away, since you're practically made of the stuff," Clara muttered. Missy actually looked flattered.
"Aww, thanks darling!"
"Oh shut up, the pair of you," the Doctor sighed. He took the vial, raised it in a silent toast to the two women, and then swallowed it in one gulp. He grimaced, then turned to Jamie. "Now what?"
Jamie glanced at his computer, then plucked an electrode from the table and attached it to the Doctor's forehead. He glanced again at the computer, and his frown deepened. "You're not even registering. It's like the transmitters can't read you-"
"Time Lord brain. Far too complex," the Doctor offered as explanation, taking the electrode off. "But the technology is impressive. Tiny nano-transmitters in the serum, project images into the mind of the drinker, then project those images back to your computer. Correct?"
"Exactly. The computer then logs the result, but if it can't even read you…" Jamie trailed off worriedly.
"I have just the thing," the Doctor smiled, producing his sonic screwdriver. He stepped up to the computer, and fiddled with it for a moment, before the computer beeped, and Jamie gasped. "There we go. John Smith, result: Erudite. All done."
"That's incredible!" Jamie laughed.
"Oh please, don't. His ego is preternaturally enlarged as it is," Clara quipped, as the Doctor glared at her but there was no heat in it. It was almost playful.
The Doctor quickly did Missy, giving her the same result, but a little of the resentment and annoyance from last night's argument was niggling Clara. As the Doctor went to do her, she called out "Wait! I want to try the Test."
"Why?" the Doctor demanded incredulously. Clara shrugged.
"I'm curious. And it could be interesting, since it won't work for you two," she pointed out. Jamie chuckled.
"No point, you're Erudite through and through," he grinned, but proffered her one of the vials. Clara sat down in the chair, as Jamie attached electrodes to her temples. "Well, bottoms up! And good luck!"
Clara drank down the serum. It tasted cold and curiously bland. She focussed on the curious, and slightly worried, eyes of the Doctor and even Missy looked unsure. She blinked.
They were gone. The room was empty, even Jamie was gone. The electrodes on her temple were gone and the computer was silent.
Cautiously, Clara hopped off the chair…
"You can watch the simulation on here," Jamie called, as the Doctor and Missy reluctantly turned away from the unconscious Clara to face the computer screen. Beside a small screen showing Clara's brain activity, there were images playing from the simulation inside Clara's mind.
"Are you sure about this?" Missy hissed.
"Have you ever actually tried to stop Clara doing what she wanted?" the Doctor snapped back irritably. Jamie eyed them with amusement.
"The simulation's starting for real, now," he said, as the images on screen changed.
Clara saw her reflection in the mirrored walls, and eyed herself curiously. She looked pretty awful after a night spent sleeping on a sofa, without a shower. But there was something about the image in front of her that felt…wrong. Unreal. Like a gold aura clung to the edges of everything around her.
Then she remembered the vial. "It's not real," she breathed. "Pretty cool, though."
Jamie gasped. "She's aware," he whispered. "She's not supposed to be aware it's just a simulation."
Suddenly, her mirror image laughed at her. "You look awful."
"Cheers. Rich coming from a reflection. You're not even real," Clara muttered. Her reflection's face went eerily blank as two table suddenly appeared in front of her, one holding a knife, the other a piece of raw meat.
"Choose," the reflection said. "Choose, now, before it's too late."
"Why do I need to choose?" Clara asked, feeling slightly ridiculous.
"Choose," was all her reflection said, repeating herself.
Her heart suddenly pounding in her ears, Clara shouted "Why?"
Suddenly she heard a dog bark, and spun to face a snarling, clearly angry Alsatian advancing on her. Her heart raced in sudden fear, but the tables holding the knife and the meat were gone.
Now she understood, and she mentally cursed her typical stubbornness and control freakery, as she backed away from the snarling dog. "Okayyy, nice doggie," she crooned. "Good doggie, it's ok."
The dog snarled and barked at her, snapping its teeth. Clearly unimpressed.
Clara thought fast, trying to remember what she'd read about dogs in a friend's psychology textbook at university. Pack-orientated, strict hierarchy, dominance and submission…
She mentally gulped at that one. But she had no weapons, nothing to distract the dog or entice it not to eat her. She only had one option left.
As the dog crouched to spring at her, Clara fell to her knees, head bowed…
"Clever girl," Jamie muttered.
"Come on, Clara," the Doctor breathed.
Where before there'd been a snarling, aggressive beast now there lolled a puppy, wagging its tail as Clara tickled its tummy. She heard laughter and saw a little child watching them, with black hair and blue eyes. She giggled and pointed at the dog. "Puppy!"
Suddenly, the puppy was gone and the snarling dog was back. Clara threw herself backwards away from it, but it wasn't interested in her. It now crept towards the girl, who looked terrified. Clara didn't think, she acted.
As the dog's muscles bunched to pounce, Clara threw herself at it, shouting "RUN!"
But as her momentum took her towards the floor, she felt the dog disappear, and then she was alone in the testing room again. On her hands and knees, panting with adrenaline…
"This isn't good," Jamie whispered. "She should have shown a clear preference for one choice by now. So far, she's shown aptitude for Erudite, Dauntless and Abnegation."
"How so?" the Doctor asked abruptly. "We all have different traits, it's perfectly natural to exhibit more than one in every choice."
"But she should have shown a prevalent one by now. I mean, look at the start of the test. She was aware and she refused to make a choice. That's Divergent, then with the dog and falling to her knees. That's an Erudite response. And with the little girl, that's both a Dauntless and an Abnegation response. She shouldn't be exhibiting all three."
See, told you. Something's wrong with them…Missy's voice echoed in his head across their bond.
Or something's wrong with Clara…he reluctantly mused. What if, after everything she had been through, her mind was altered, changed? Even with what Missy had sensed, they couldn't be sure it wasn't just Clara.
The testing room was empty. Even her reflection was gone as she stepped in front of the mirrors again.
Suddenly a door opened to her right, and she stepped through. But not into a room, but a bus.
All the seats were taken and outside, Clara could see the same square they'd walked into just before they were arrested.
The bus lurched, and Clara grabbed a pole to steady herself. As the bus lurched again, Clara stumbled and her eyes fell on the hands of a man sitting nearby, holding a newspaper. His hands were horrifically scarred. Then, her gaze drifted to the picture underneath the front page headline. A plain face with a beard. Unremarkable.
"Do you know him!?" the man suddenly demanded, as Clara forced herself upright.
"No, sorry," she murmured. The man rose and threw aside the newspaper, gripping Clara's wrist. "Hey!"
"You're lying. You do know him, don't you!?" he demanded, angrily this time. Clara tore her wrist from his grip.
"I don't know him," she threw back, before she saw the scars on his face, and softened slightly. "He did something terrible to you, didn't he? Look, I don't know him but maybe we can find him together yeah?"
The man's face contorted with pure rage and hatred, as he grabbed Clara by the shoulders and snarled in her face. "You're lying, I know you're lying.!"
"I am not lying to you!"
"That was an Amity response," Jamie breathed. "First Erudite, Dauntless and Abnegation and now Amity. This is bad."
The Doctor and Missy said nothing, but watched the screen intently.
"She's not even experiencing the need to admit she knows the man," Jamie continued. "That section of her brain isn't active above normal levels."
"You could save me! You could save me!" the man continued to scream in her face. Clara took a deep breath, inhaling the acrid taste of cigarette smoke.
It wasn't real. It was just a simulation. It was all in her head.
"I don't know," she said, for the last time, as firmly as she could manage. It was a tone her students had once called 'General Oswald' tone. It usually stopped a difficult student in their tracks with ruthless efficiency.
It worked now. The world dissolved around her…
Clara awoke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in the chair. "What the hell was that?" she demanded, as the Doctor rushed to her side.
"Clara, are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her cheek, then her forehead. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," she retorted, shoving away his hand with a quelling look. Missy was still stood by the computer with Jamie, who was avoiding her eyes. "Well?" she demanded. "What was my result?"
"Your results were inconclusive. You're Divergent," Jamie replied reluctantly. "You showed aptitude for Erudite, Dauntless, Amity and Abnegation."
"And I'm guessing this is really not good," she sighed. Just her luck.
"It's a new record. There's never been a Divergent who's recorded aptitude for more than two factions at a time," Jamie explained. "It means you're in grave danger as long as you're here."
"What can we do?" Missy suddenly asked, surprising Clara.
"You can hide in one of the factions, that's what most Divergent choose to do," Jamie replied. "Or you can go factionless, go on the streets. That would be safest."
Silence greeted that pronouncement. Clara raised an eyebrow at him, and Jamie shrugged.
"If you're set on staying in the factions, then I'd say choose Amity or Abnegation. As initiates, you'll have to go through initiation to prove your worth to your new faction. Amity and Abnegation are the easiest to pass. Candour require you pass a lie detector test while under the influence of truth serum, Dauntless will test you physically, emotionally and mentally through simulations like the one you just did. That's when Divergence is most easily discovered."
"And Erudite?" the Doctor asked.
"Not as bad," Jamie shrugged. "Erudite initiates have to complete a project in their chosen field, and also complete an IQ test which will determine which jobs they can apply for in the faction. What makes Erudite dangerous is their fervour. Jessica Holden, their leader, is convinced Divergence will destroy the faction system and wants to stamp them out. Choosing Erudite would be suicide."
"How do you know all of this?" Clara suddenly asked, curious. Jamie looked away, a haunted look in his eyes.
"I was born Erudite," he explained. "But when I took my Aptitude Test, it revealed I was Divergent. I had aptitude for Amity and Erudite, so I chose Amity. It was the safer option."
"I don't blame you," the Doctor said reassuringly, awkwardly patting the young man's shoulder. "But we need to find our ship. We think it might have been taken, and if so, I surmise by Erudite for examination. We need to get into Erudite."
"It won't be easy, but at least with that nifty device of yours you can make the computer think Clara's recorded a normal result," Jamie nodded, after a moment's thought. The Doctor flashed the sonic, and then it was done. To all the world, Clara had recorded an Erudite result in her Aptitude test.
Jamie smiled at her sadly when there came a knock on the door. "I know some people in the other factions, like us," he whispered as he hugged her goodbye. "I'll let them know. If they can help, they will."
"Thank you," Clara whispered back.
"Go with happiness," he replied, and then their guard came and they were escorted out.
They were taken back to their room and given lunch. This time, both the Doctor and Missy ate while Clara sat on one of the sofas, staring out at the cityscape and picking at her sandwich.
Her mind raced a mile a minute. The Aptitude test simulation had been incredibly disquieting. She could understand and appreciate the ingenuity behind it all, but she felt violated, laid bare. It had brought up past demons Clara had thought long-suppressed and forgotten.
Clara had always known she was smart. She'd always done well in school and at university. She'd always known she was brave. You couldn't travel with the Doctor unless you were brave enough, or stupid enough, to keep going back for more, regardless of what he threw at you. But kind? She supposed she could be kind, if the situation called for it or the person deserved kindness. But in that simulation, she'd only been kind in order to help herself. And selfless? Clara wasn't so sure of that.
A selfless person wouldn't have lied to the man she loved. A selfless person wouldn't have abandoned her students to witness a solar storm. A selfless person wouldn't have tried to destroy their best friend's life. A selfless person wouldn't have done half the things she'd done.
And then there was the Doctor. He'd acted his usual overbearing, dominant self in that testing room, and she'd rebelled. He'd overruled her perfectly logical point in their argument the night before, and for what? It seemed there was danger here for her, regardless of where she went.
And she needed to get out. She needed to get away, to be free of the looming shadow of the Mistress, constantly reminding her of the mistake she'd so willingly made. She needed time and space to breathe, away from the Doctor, and all the questions he'd raised about who she was to him, and who he was to her. She needed to get away from the most looming question of all: who was she? Clara wasn't certain anymore.
She had been once. She was Clara Oswald, Impossible Girl on Wednesdays and nanny to Artie and Angie. Then she'd been Oswin, and Clara, and so many others all along the Doctor's time stream, all with one unifying fact: she was the Impossible Girl. Then she'd been Miss Oswald, English teacher at Coal Hill School and best friend to the Doctor. Then she was Danny Pink's girlfriend, and the Doctor's best friend. But now? She'd lost Danny, she was losing the Doctor and she was losing herself.
And despite what the Doctor said, it would be better for them to split up. The Doctor and Missy might look out of place in Dauntless, but she wouldn't. She was young, fit and she had taken taekwondo lessons with the Year Sevens. That way, they'd cover two fronts, the science side where their resident genii would be best deployed, and the security side where Clara could scout the lay of the land and gather intel.
Ugh, Artie made me play too much Halo and Call of Duty. It's rubbing off on me.
The thought of the teenage boy she'd looked after made her smile, just as the door of their little room opened, and one of the Abnegation council members walked in. "It's time," she said, with a gentle smile.
Clara followed the Doctor and Missy out of the room.
They were escorted back to that echoing audience chamber, except this time the plinths on the stage were filled, and there were more people stood in each section of the seating. Clara's eyes roved over the factions, but her eyes kept going back to the black-clad, tattooed Dauntless.
Jonas took the stage and motioned for Clara, the Doctor and Missy to join him, while the hubbub slowly began to quieten. While they waited, Clara glanced at the large bowls now resting atop the plinths. They were all filled with one substance or another.
The far left bowl was filled with grey stones, the centre-left with smouldering coals, the centre bowl with water, the centre-right bowl with glass and the far right bowl with earth.
"They signify the virtues of each faction," Jonas told her when he noticed her looking. "Stone for the Abnegation, as it symbolises our commitment to selflessness. Coals for the Dauntless, for both their destructive capabilities and their vitality; water for the Erudite, as they seek clarity in knowledge, glass for the Candour symbolises honesty and truthfulness, and finally earth symbolises the Amity's commitment to nature, which they believe imbues them with peace. You will spill a drop of blood into the bowl of your chosen Faction."
"Talk about medieval," Clara muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. Jonas then called for quiet, and the hubbub finally ceased as Clara turned to face the crowd of eyes watching her every move.
"Welcome," Jonas started, and again the pompousness hidden underneath his sobriety set Clara's teeth on edge. "I know our last Choosing Ceremony was only three months ago, but yesterday a momentous event occurred. We received definite and joyous proof that we were not the only survivors of the war that tore apart our world."
There was some low murmuring at that, before it died down again, and Jonas continued.
"They have suffered a grievous loss, and warned us of a threat which we have taken steps to neutralise. And now, we welcome them into our society after they each successfully completed the Aptitude test. So welcome to this somewhat unconventional Choosing Ceremony, as we once again celebrate our ancestor's democratic philosophy, when they arose from the ruins of the war to build a new society, where a man might choose his own path. They realised that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race or nationalism that is to blame for conflict, but human nature itself. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those traits that have caused the most ills."
As Clara listened, she noted the slightly hypocrisy in Jonas's speech. A man was only free to choose, in this society, one of five predetermined paths, not his own. If his own coincided with one of the factions, all well and good. If it didn't…
But then again, maybe it wasn't so different from her own Earth after all.
"Those who blamed aggression and cruelty formed Amity. Those who blamed ignorance formed the Erudite, those who blamed deception formed Candour, those who blamed selfishness created Abnegation and finally, those who blamed cowardice became the Dauntless. Working together, these five factions have lived in peace, fulfilling a need in our society. But our factions give us more than we can accurately surmise; they give us peace, purpose, belonging. They give us life! Faction before blood!"
The entire crowd repeated that last phrase, as Clara stared. Faction before blood? Really? What about family? Friendships? Didn't they mean anything?
"Our new arrivals will choose in reverse alphabetical order. John Smith!" Jonas called. The Doctor turned and stepped up the stage, taking the knife from him and turning to the bowls. "Fear nothing as you give your blood and pay sacred allegiance to your chosen faction!"
Clara mentally sighed. She felt like she was watching some religious cult ceremony, they certainly seemed to see it that way.
The Doctor didn't hesitate to carefully cut the tip of his thumb, just enough to pierce the skin, and hold it over the bowl holding the Erudite water. "Erudite!" Jonas parroted, and the group dressed in blue burst into applause as the Doctor went to stand with them. "Missy Saxon!"
Missy stepped up next, taking a fresh knife Jonas proffered.
Clara couldn't help but tense at that sight. Missy with a weapon was never a good idea. She had the nerve to wink at Clara as she turned to the bowls, and allowed a drop of blood from her thumb to fall into the Erudite bowl. "Erudite!"
More applause. Then it was her turn.
"Clara Oswald!"
Clara stepped up to the stage, taking the knife Jonas held out to her. It felt heavy and cold in her hand, as she eyed the bowls and their contents. Amity, Erudite, Dauntless and Abnegation, Jamie had said. Kindness, intelligence, bravery and selflessness.
If this were a real choice, if she had to stay, this would be the hardest choice Clara would ever have had to make. They expected sixteen-year olds to decide who they were before their brains had even finished developing, before they'd even experienced life and all its joys and sorrows. Clara had travelled through Time and Space, seen loved ones die, betrayed and been betrayed by those she trusted, and scattered herself across the whole of creation, and she still didn't have a clue who she was.
But they weren't staying, and she knew what she had to do. She sliced her thumb and squeezed it over the bowl containing Dauntless coals. "Dauntless!"
The black-clad group burst into cheering and applause, twice as loud as any other group. Clara turned away from the bowls with a grin and looked to her new faction, noticing the disappointed looks among the other faction groups. Clearly, they were hoping to get the new arrivals. The Amity looked almost distraught.
She glimpsed Jamie among them, who inclined his head to her once. She didn't react, but knew he knew she'd seen him.
And then she looked towards the source of the burning, accusatory gaze boring into her side. She looked to the Doctor and Missy.
Jonas touched her on the arm. "We wouldn't normally permit it, but go and say your goodbyes. I shall stall the Dauntless until you're ready," he offered, and she nodded gratefully. She stepped off the stage as the two Gallifreyans met her, and the Doctor took her arm. His eyebrows were in full attack mode too.
"What are you doing!?" he demanded in a furious whisper.
"Doing things my way," she whispered back, with a sad smile that drew him up short. "Divide and conquer, Doctor." She surreptitiously tapped her ear, where the nanotech earpiece was still nestled. They hadn't found it when they patted her down for concealed weapons. Without giving him a chance to say anything else, she launched herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. Tears welled in hers, but she refused to question the wisdom of her own decision.
She was doing the right thing for her. I guess I'm not that Abnegation after all…
She pressed a kiss to his cheek and stepped back, out of his faltering arms and turned to Missy. Her nemesis and the reason her world had completed spun on its axis. "See you around, nutjob," she muttered with a fierce grin, glad to be free. Before she could turn away, Missy caught her arm in a tight hold and forced her back. She leant in and pressed a kiss to her mouth, one Clara couldn't help but return, even if she hated herself afterwards. She could hear catcalling and wolf-whistling from her new Dauntless faction members.
Clara pulled herself away, and walked towards the Dauntless without a backwards glance.
The Doctor and Missy watched her go, concern emanating from one, frustration from the other. "John?" one of the Erudite called. "It's time to go."
They filed out with the rest of the blue-clad group and watched as the Dauntless headed towards the stairs while the other factions took the lifts. The Doctor watched Clara's bouncing curls disappear in a sea of black, and hoped against hope that she knew what she was doing.
Once they made it outside the Hub, it was only a short walk, apparently, to Erudite Headquarters, their new home until they found the Tardis. He heard whooping and laughter behind them, and glanced over his shoulder to see that sea of black moving in the opposite direction, at a run.
"The Dauntless are hellions," one of the Erudite beside him commented. "I do hope your friend knows she's let herself in for."
"Clara's strong. She'll be fine," he asserted repressively, as Missy stayed silent behind him. He wondered what she thought of the whole debacle. She was probably amused by it.
Erudite HQ was a sprawling compound that looked more like a university campus than anything else. They crossed a bridge over a small manmade river, and into a large building constructed of glass and metal, flashing in the sunlight.
Inside, Jessica Holden, faction leader, waited for them. "John, Missy," she greeted them with a cool smile. "I'm pleased you decided to join us."
"I'm looking forward to getting started," the Doctor smiled.
"Tell me, what exactly will our 'initiation' involve?" Missy asked politely. Her act didn't surprise the Doctor, she was a good actress.
"You will both select areas of study, in which you will be mentored and complete a dissertation demonstrating your knowledge. Then we will test your IQ to determine which jobs you will be able to take," Jessica explained, while leading them down a corridor from the main atrium. "But for the first week, we will allow you to settle in to your new home and your faction. You'll be assisting one of our scientists in her laboratory until you've assessed which fields you may like to specialise in."
They fell into silence after that, as Missy and the Doctor glanced at one another.
We'd best be careful on their little IQ test…Missy said into his mind. We might just spark a riot otherwise.
Agreed. We'd best have a look around, and see how heavily guarded their labs and security systems are… the Doctor replied.
I only hope Clara doesn't get into trouble. Silly girl! Missy mentally sighed. She's gone quite off the rails lately…
If she's gone anywhere, it's your fault! the Doctor snapped back thunderously. She was fine until you started playing your mind games on her!
Oh don't start, you hypocrite! Missy replied archly. She hasn't been the same since that little boyfriend of hers died. Since you refused to kill me. This latest stunt is as much your doing as mine.
Just then, Jessica led them into a small laboratory where a woman sat hunched over a microscope. Long brown hair fell in a plait down her back, over her blue lab coat.
"John, Missy," Jessica halted, "This is your mentor for the week. Osgood! Osgood!"
The woman started and jumped, spinning around. Her glasses were askew and she scrambled to straighten them. "Oh, hello!" she said brightly. "Nice to meet you!"
For once in their lives, the Doctor and the Mistress were jointly speechless.
As the Dauntless entered the stairwell, they started running. Clara felt herself sucked along into their mass, rushing down the stairs headlong. By the time they reached the ground floor, her thighs were burning. And I thought I was fit!
Her goodbyes to the Doctor and Missy were pushed aside as she fell into the rhythm of running. She hadn't run for anything other than exercise or for her life in ages; it felt good. Her muscles burned as they worked, her lungs drew in air like they were starved of it, and she felt keenly aware of every step, every beat of her heart.
All the Dauntless around her were whooping and laughing, shoving each other and racing every few metres. Clara felt the edge of her mental bond with Missy as the latter apparently went in the opposite direction to them, but the thought slipped away as she lost herself in the sheer joy of running.
She heard a shout, and looked up to see one of the elevated train platforms ahead. The stairs looked totally decrepit, and Clara wondered how they were going to get onto the platform.
"Come on!" the Dauntless next to her shouted. "We're going to miss the train."
She got her answer the next minute. One of the Dauntless raced to the nearest pillar and started climbing it. The rest followed. Clara skidded to a halt in front of it, staring up at the platform.
"Come on! Or are you a pansycake?" one of the Dauntless called down. It was like being back in high school, playing dare.
With a shrug, Clara started climbing the pillar. She'd done far more dangerous things before.
She got a foot on the platform just as she heard the first call of the horn and felt the first judder of the train on the tracks. The same Dauntless who had taunted her nudged her arm.
"Just do what we do, and you'll be fine," he told her, his nose ring flashing in the sun. Clara was about to ask why, when everyone started running along the platform just as the first train carriage reached it. Instinctively, she followed.
To her astonishment, the train didn't slow or stop, it continued. And the Dauntless were jumping onto it as it moved. One leapt up, grabbing a handhold in the side of the carriage and slammed the button to open the doors. Again and again, Clara watched as the Dauntless in front of her jumped onto the train.
Increasing her speed, Clara eyed one of the handholds. The end of the platform had to be coming up, she needed to go now, jump now and not think of the wheels, of excruciating death squashed into the train tracks….
Clara jumped.
She grabbed hold and swung herself inside. Her arms were strong, at least, and she managed it just as the train carriage cleared the platform.
"Nice one," her Dauntless friend smirked. "I'm Andrew. You?"
"Clara," she panted, bending over to catch her breath. "What's next?"
"On to HQ, then the real fun begins," Andrew laughed as Clara groaned.
After her pulse rate settled down, Clara sat down against one of the poles set into the floor and ceiling, eying the cityscape rushing past. She recalled the rush of adrenaline from the run then the mad dash along the platform to jump on the train. She'd often made jokes about jumping on the Tube back home, but…
She laughed, feeling light and free for the first time in months.
"Get ready!" one of the Dauntless, a tall, Asian woman with tattoos and green-streaked hair, called down the carriage. Andrew gestured to Clara to join him by the door where she looked out cautiously.
They were coasting along a flat, straight bit of track, slightly above the roofs of the surrounding buildings. She could see another track on the ground, and saw a flash as they passed a building with a triangular glass roof. "We're here! Just do what I do!" Andrew shouted above the wind.
"Wait, what!?" Clara shouted, as Andrew backed up a few paces, ran and jumped off the train and onto the roof of the building they were passing. He landed on his feet, sprinted a few feet and stopped, beckoning to her. "C'mon! Unless you want to be factionless!"
All around her, the Dauntless were jumping. She had to jump too, or this would all be a waste.
Pushing away the fear, Clara backed up a few steps, profoundly thankful for the umpteenth time that she'd chosen flat-soled boots instead when she left the Tardis yesterday morning, and ran at the door. She jumped.
She soared through the air, and landed awkwardly, tripping over and sprawling in the gravel. She groaned and got to her feet, hearing laughter all around her.
"Not bad for a first-timer," Andrew chuckled, stopping beside her and offering a hand. Clara gripped it, brushing down her dress. Her tights were ripped and she was bleeding at the knee. "You'll get it, with practice. Come on."
He led her with the other Dauntless to the opposite edge of the building, where she looked over into a long drop through a cracked hole in the ceiling of the floor below. Or rather the ceiling five or six stories below her.
Andrew stepped up and faced her with a grin. "This is the entrance into Dauntless. You want in, you have to jump," he told her. All the Dauntless clapped and whooped as Clara stared. Andrew shrugged. "If you don't have the guts, you don't belong here."
As she looked back down, into the hole, she tried to see the outline of a net or the ripple of water or something. But there was nothing, the darkness was impenetrable.
There had to be a net. The Dauntless were crazy, not stupid. They wouldn't kill their own initiates. Or at least Clara hoped.
Unsteadily, she clambered up onto the edge. Her heart pounded, her blood rushed through her veins which suddenly felt as narrow as the eye of a needle. The wind plucked at her hair and clothes, almost pushing her over as she stared into the darkness.
She could feel herself freezing, fear paralysing her. Her mind betraying her.
Clara closed her eyes, and let herself fall. She jumped.
The air rushed past her, as she opened her eyes to see the sky receding at an impossible speed. She hit something hard, giving way around her and crushing the air from her lungs as she gasped.
A net. She'd been right.
Clara scrambled to orientate herself as hands reached across the net to her, and she grabbed one. It pulled her across the net and off, forcing herself to get her feet under her so she didn't fall on her face. She looked up into a familiar face, framed by blonde, blue and red hair, tattooed and pierced. Her escort from the Hub.
"Nice one, pansycake!" she laughed. "Though I guess I probably shouldn't call you that anymore. What's your name?"
Clara struggled to get her breath back, as she stood straight. "Clara."
"Clara? Ugh, definitely a pansycake name. You can pick a new one, y'know," the woman offered.
Clara thought, slightly offended for her mum's sake. She liked her name, but maybe here…it was time to be someone else. Just for a little while.
It came to her in a flash of memory too blurred to hold in her mind's eye. But it was perfect.
"Oswin," she gasped. "My name is Oswin."
The name of the girl who resisted Dalek conversion and brought down the Dalek Asylum. The girl who saved the Doctor and set him on the path to find her.
"Alright! Cool name," the woman clapped her back. "We have a new initiate! Oswin, welcome to Dauntless!"
As voices and clapping echoed from the shadows around her, Clara smiled.
To be continued...