"Warm enough?" the Doctor asked walking over to Star as she sat curled up on the chair on the upper gallery with a thick blanket wrapped around her.

"I am now," she nodded.

"What are you doing awake?"

"Take a guess." She mumbled. That damn dream again, even though it wasn't a dream, you don't have the same dream ever time you sleep since you were 50 when you were now 620 or so? (She had no idea how old she was, left the Doctor to remind her as she reminded him of his age.)

"The dream?" he guessed.

"The same as always," she sighed, it was so tiring now. At first she just waved it off as a simple dream but now after this time, it was so frustrating, because it felt so real, as soon as something grabbed her, she heard a small voice whisper to her, but then she could never remember going back to sleep, and if she never fell back to sleep then she was never sleeping in the first place so she was already awake, right? "Why are you up?"

"Just, came to check on you," he said, sitting next to her on the arm of the chair.

"Continue."

He sighed; she always could tell when there was something more bothering him, "I had a…nightmare last night."

Star snorted, "welcome to my world." He rolled his eyes at her, "so what was this nightmare?"

"It was…similar to yours."

"Something grabbed your ankle?"

He snapped his fingers at her, "that's the one."

"And a voice? Did you hear a voice?"

He leaned in and whispered, "Listen."

She blinked at him, "I am listening."

"No I mean…" he stood and wondered around the room, still speaking, "Question: why do we talk out loud when we know we're alone?"

"Well, because im insane and you're pretty mad yourself?" she giggled.

"Im serious, Nova. What if we talk out loud when we're alone because we know we are not alone? There are perfect hunters. There is perfect defence. Why is there no such thing as perfect hiding? Answer: how would you know? Logically, if evolution were to perfect a creature...whose primary skills were to hide...from view how could you know it existed? It could be with us every second and we would never know. How would you detect it? Even sense it? Except in those moments when, for no clear reason, you choose to speak aloud. What would such a creature want? What would it do?" Star just stared at him, "well? What would you do?"

"Once you start having a nightmare every night, you learn how to hide just how tired you are." Star remarked, "but a once off, like you, I'd say get some sleep. Seriously, you seem really tired."

"Im fine," he rolled his eyes at her concern, "come on," he lead her to one of the chalkboards had 'listen' scribbled down. "See?"

She shook her head, "you wrote 'listen' down."

"No," he grinned, "I didn't. Its not like I could have forgetting I wrote it down could I?"

Star opened her mouth to answer but closed it again, best not to say that his memory wasn't as good as it once was. Trenzalore had seriously affected him badly.

"Dad!" Star called, as he ran to the console, piloting them off, "you're just tired. Seriously just get some sleep, please."

She had learnt to hide just how tired she was from lack of sleep. When you have a dream as often as she did, you learnt to live with it, take small naps often so you still got the right amount of sleep without having time for the dream to kick in. And she was pretty sure it was the dream that was the sign of her madness, the lack of sleep making her more bananas that she already was. Or maybe it was the dream making her mad. Keeping her awake at night, making her so tired that she went into madness. She honestly had no idea.

~.~

The Doctor had materialised the TARDIS is Clara's bedroom in her small flat, there wasn't much room but the woman had managed to squeeze through the door.

"Why do you have 3 mirrors?" Star got straight to the point as she sat at Clara's make up table, looking into the mirrors at all different angles, "Have you ever thought about moving your head? Or is it too wide? No, wait, that's rude, but still, 3 mirrors, why?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked instead.

"You said you had a date," the Doctor remarked as he sat on the end of her bed, "I thought we'd better hide in the bedroom in case you brought him home and he shouldn't be in the bedroom this early. Bit early, aren't you?"

"It was a disaster and I am extremely upset about it, since you didn't ask."

"Isn't it best not to ask and let you speak when you're ready?" Star frowned. "And we need you."

"I can't!"

"Why not?" she pouted, "isn't your date finished now?"

She hesitated before answering, "…I might be getting a phone call."

"From Danny the date guy?"

"How do you know his name?"

"I just…wanted to find out who you were seeing. For your safety."

"That's sweet, but there's no need."

"We just want what's best for you."

"Too late now," the Doctor cut in, "you've taken your make up off."
"No I haven't," Clara shook her head.

"Oh, well you probably just missed a bit. Come on."

He and Star got up and headed into the TARDIS giving Clara little choice but to follow, "I haven't actually said yes," she pointed out as they ran to the console.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "but you know sometimes when you talk to yourself? What if you're not?"

"Not what?"

"What if it's not you you're talking to? Proposition: what if no one is ever really alone? What if every single living being has a... companion. A silent passenger. A shadow. What if the prickle on the back of your neck, is the breath of something close behind you?"

"Have you been sleeping Doctor?" Clara asked him.

"Come on," the Doctor ignored her, heading up the stairs, showing Clara the board with the word 'Listen' written down.

"Looks like your handwriting," Clara remarked.

"Well, I couldn't have written it and forgotten, could I?" the Doctor countered.

"Yes." Star answered promptly.

"Shut up." the Doctor nearly whined.

"Have you met you?" Clara looked at all the books lying around, "what's all this?"
"Dreams. Accounts of dreams, by different people, all through history, you see I have a theory."

"I bet you do."

"I think everybody, at some point in their lives, has the exact same nightmare."

"You wake up or you think you do. And there's someone in the dark, someone close or you think there might be. So you sit up and turn on the light. And the room looks different, at night. It ticks and creaks and breathes. And you tell yourself there's nobody there. Nobody watching. Nobody listening. Nobody there at all. And you very nearly believe it. You really, really try. And then…"

"Stop." Star interrupted with a small shiver.

"It's just a dream," Clara shook her head, "I dream. We all dream."

"There accounts of that dream throughout human history." The Doctor said, running back down the stairs, "Time and time again, the same dream. Now, there's an obvious question I'm about to ask you. Do you know what it is?"

"Have you had that dream?" Clara asked.

"Exactly."

"No that was me asking you have you had that dream."

"I asked first."

"No you didn't."

"Clara…" Star looked at her, "he has, that's why he's doing all this. Have you?"

She hesitated, "…Okay, yeah, probably. Yes. But everyone dreams about something under the bed!"

"But why?"

"Why do you?" she countered.

"I don't know," she shook her head, "but its maker me insaner-er. That's not a word is it?"

"Nope."

"Right," the Doctor cleared his throat, "Just hold on tight." He placed Clara's hands in a section of the console, "If anything bites, let it."

"What is it?" she frowned, leaving her hands there.

"TARDIS telepathic interface." Star explained, "You're in mental contact with the TARDIS."

"So don't think anything rude." The Doctor added.

"Why not?" Clara wondered.
"It might end up on all the screens. The TARDIS is extrapolating your entire time line, from the moment of your birth, to the moment of your death."

"Which I do not need a preview off." Clara whispered to the rotor.

"I'm turning off the safe guards and Navigation. Slaving the TARDIS to you."

"Why?"
"Now focus on the dream! Focus on the details, picture them, feel them, the TARDIS will track on your subconscious, extract the relevant information. Should be able to home in on the moment in your timeline when you first had that dream. Then we'll see."

"What will we see?"

"What's under your bed." Star replied, "It's very important. Don't get distracted, remember. You are flying a time machine, remember what happened last time."

"That wasn't my fault," she defended, before closing her eyes in concentration, opening them as her mobile rang, thinking of Danny, of her date that had ended very badly.

"Ignore it!" Star told her, pulling it out of the woman's pocket and throwing it away.

"Ok," the Doctor checked the controls, "that's good. That worked, we're here."

"Sorry," Clara winced, "I think I got distracted."

"No, no, no, no, the date's fine. Come on."

"Come on where?" Clara called as the Time Lords headed out the door.

"Your childhood," Star called back.

"Erm, little help." Clara gestured to where her hands were still in the telepathic field, stuck.

Star rolled her eyes as she headed back to the woman, "gently pull them out." She held Clara hands and slowly pulled them out from the substance in the panel, "she's like a cat remember? Come on." She pulled her outside.
"The West Country's Children home," the Doctor said as they looked at the dull building, "Gloucester, by the ozone level and the drains. Mid-nineties."

"Why are we here?" Clara demanded.

"You must have been here when you had the dream," Star reasoned, "which is odd..."

"I've never been in a Gloucester my life!" Clara shook her head, "and I've never live in a children's home."

"I thought your mum died when you were young," Star frowned at Clara, "and you were brought up by your dad."

"I was!"

"Oh, you probably just forgotten," the Doctor waved her off, "have you seen the size of human brains, they're hilarious. Little you must be in here somewhere, with your little brain."

"Is it bad if I meet myself?"

"It is potentially catastrophic," he agreed.

"So why did you bring me out here?"

"He's tired, Clara," Star informed the girl, "he doesn't know what he's doing."

"I do too!" he defended, "I just needed someone to nod. Probably best for you to wait in the TARDIS," he and Star headed towards the home when something caught Clara's eye, one of the windows had a light on.

"Doctor..." she called, "Star."

"TARDIS!" Star called back.

"If I had been distracted, what would have happened?"

"We'd have gone to the wrong place," the Doctor explained, "don't think we have, the time zone is about right. We won't be long."

Star rolled her eyes as the Doctor held the door open for her. They were in the wrong place, Clara had gotten distracted by the phone, but because it's the right time zone, it's the right place in the Doctors mind. Idiot. He was lucky she was so fond of him.

They walked down the corridor, looking around the creepy home, the tiled floors, wide stone stairs, silent other than laughter from the reception area.

The security guard exited the back room, stopping in surprise seeing the Doctor and Star staring at him, "how did you get in?" he demanded.

"Faulty door," Star shrugged him off. The Doctor had simply soniced it open.

The Doctor held up the psychic paper to the man, "an inspection?" he frowned, "it's 2 in the morning."

"When better?" the Doctor countered, "do you always work nights?"

"Most nights, yes."

"Ever end up talking to yourself?"

"All the time...it's this place, you can't help it."

"What about your coffee?" Star nodded to the mug of coffee on the desk.

"My coffee?" the man frowned at the random question.

"Sometimes do you put it down, and look around, and then it's not there?"

"Everybody does that."

"Yup. Everybody."

The man eyed the pair oddly when the TV cut off.

"Who turned your telly off?" the Doctor wondered.

"It does that," the man shrugged, looking back, "it goes off."

Star took the mans coffee mug and they walked off down the corridor. She handed it to the Doctor who took a sip of it. she had never been that fond of coffee, preferred tea or hot chocolate. "Can we please go back to the TARDIS now?" Star asked, "Will you please go to sleep?"

"Don't you want to find out why everyone has the same dream?" he glanced at her as he scanned around.

"Well, yes, but, honestly…"

"There's something more here…got it! Come on!" he ran up the stairs, leaving Star to follow, groaning.

When she had nightmares he just waved them off, 'they're only dreams, Nova' he would say, 'not real', 'all just your imagination' but when he has nightmares its all 'have to find out where it originates from.' Eurgh, parents.

~.~

They ran into a room where they heard Clara talking to a young black boy, "who's this?" she demanded of the small figure user the boys red bed sheet, "this a friend of yours playing a game?" she asked the boy who shook his head, "playing a trick, are you? A little trick on Rupert here?"

The figure rose and Clara and Rupert stared at it, not noticing the Doctor and Star sneak into the room.

"Ok," Clara breathed as the figure, child size, stood on the bed, "it's not funny this, you know!"

"Where is he?" the Doctor murmured as he sat in the chair, flipping thought a book.

"Doctor?" Clara blinked at him.

"I can't find him. Can you find him?" he asked Star.

"There he is!" she cheered, pointing in the top corner, "Oh, no, wait, no it isn't."

"Who's not?" Clara shook her head at that.

"Wally," the Doctor answered, holding up a book on stream train history.

"Wally?"

"He's nowhere in this book."

"It's not a 'Where Wally' book," Rupert told him.

"How do you know?" the Doctor looked up, "maybe you just haven't found him yet."

"He isn't in every book," Star told him.

"Really?" he frowned at her and she nodded, "we'll that's a few years if my life I'll be needing back. Wait a minute, you told me he was!"

She shrugged innocently, "Whoops."

"Don't get distracted," Clara sighed.

"Are you scared?" Star asked Rupert, "The thing on your bed. Does it scare you?"

He looked at the figure and nodded, "yes."

"And that's good." she smiled at him, "and do you know why that's good?" she asked, standing between him and figure, taking his hand.

"Why?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the figure.

"Let me tell you about being scared." She began, repeating the wise words the Doctor had told her so long ago, but she had always remembered, "Your heart is beating so hard you can feel it through your hands. There's so much blood and oxygen pumping through your brain it's like rocket fuel. Right now you can run faster and fight harder and jumper higher than ever in your life and you're so alert it's like you can slow down time. Scared is like a superpower. It's your superpower. There is a danger in this room, but that's you. Do you feel it?" he nodded.

"Do you think he feels it?" the Doctor jerked his head to the figure, "do you think he's scared?" the boy shook his head, "Loser! Turn your back on him."

"...what?" he blinked.

"Turn you back on him, come on."

"And you Clara," Clara did as he said, "and you Star." The three time travellers looking out the window, Star more hesitant than the others.

"Come on, Rupert," Star encouraged him, eyes locked on the window, "it'll be fine. You can trust us."

Slowly, with effort, Rupert pulled his gaze from the figure.

"Lovely view out this window," the Doctor commented.

"Yeah," Clara agreed, "come as see all the dark."

"The deep and lovely dark," Star said, "never would see the stars without it."

Slowly, Rupert joined them at the window, standing between Star and Clara.

"Now. There are two possibilities," the Doctor murmured as they looked out the window, "possibility one: it's just one of your friends standing there, and he's playing a joke on you. Possibility two: it isn't."

"Not helping." Star whispered tensely.

"So...plan?" Clara inquired, "Plans are good."

"You on the bed," he called back, not looking back, "I'm talking to you. Just leave, go in peace. We won't look. Just go, now!" silence, "it's ok if you just have to stay hidden. Just leave now."

There was a creaking of bed springs and a foot in the floor, through the reflection in the window they could see something moving behind them.

"Is it gone?" Clara whispered when there was silence.

"Don't look round," the Doctor instructed, "not yet."

"I can't hear anything," Rupert breathed.

"Don't look round," but Rupert turned and the figure stood directly behind him, "look away! Look away now! Don't look at it!" Rupert snapped his head back round, "don't look round."

In the window they could just make out a figure, small, child-size, about Rupert size, hidden under the bed sheet. It was most likely just a child having come to try and scare Rupert but he didn't want to get caught, so now he was keeping himself hidden under the bed sheet.

"Don't look round," the Doctor told him, "don't look at the reflection."

"What is it?" the boy breathed, terrified.

"Imagine something that must never be seen. What would you do if you saw it?"

"I don't know."

"Me neither. Close your eyes," the Doctor ordered.

"What?"

"Close your eyes. You too, Clara, Star. Give it what it wants." The four of them closed their eyes. "Prove to it you're never going to look. Make a promise, promise never to look at it."

"I promise...never to look..."

"The breath on the back of your neck...like your hairs standing on end...that means, don't look round!"

And the door shut. They spun around to see the room now empty.

"He's gone," Star let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding.

"He took my bedspread," Rupert pouted.

"Oh, the human race, you're ever happy are you?" the Doctor grumbled.

~.~

A few minutes later, Rupert sat in the middle of his bed, Star sitting cross legged at the end. The Doctor sitting in the chair, fiddling with the sonic as Clara searched through a cupboard next to him.

"Am I safe now?" Rupert asked.

"Oh, no, nobody's safe," the Doctor shook his head, "especially not at night in the dark, anything can get you. And you're up here all alone..." he was cut off by Clara cuffing him on the head, "what was that for?"

"Shut up and leave this to me." she pulled out a shoebox full of toy soldiers, "these yours?" she turned to Rupert.

"They're the homes," he corrected.

"They're yours now."

"People don't need to be lied to," the Doctor began.

"People don't need to be scared by a big grey haired stick insect." Star giggled at the insult, now she thought about it, he did remind her of a stick insect. "But here you are. Sit down, shut up." Clara looked up at Rupert, "see what I'm doing?" she arranged the soldiers around his bed, guarding the underneath, "this is your army."

"Plastic army," the Doctor corrected.

"Sit!" she shouted as he began to get up. Sulkily he sat back down, folding his arms, "And they're going to guard under your bed." she held up a broken soldier, "this one is the boss soldier. The Colonel. He's going to keep a special eye out..."

"It's broken," Rupert cut in, "that one. It doesn't have a gun."

"But that's why he's the boss," Star smiled, "a soldier so brave that he doesn't need a gun. He can keep the world safe without the need of a weapon."

"What shall we call him?" Clara asked.

"Dan!" he decided instantly.

"...sorry?"

"Dan, the soldier man. That's what I'll call him." he took hold of the plastic soldier.

"Good," she nodded slowly, "good name."

"Yeah. Would you read me a story? It'll help me get to sleep."

"Sure."

The Doctor walked over, pressing his fingers against the boys' temples, "once upon a time..." the boy fell back on his bed, asleep "the end." He turned to Clara, grinning, "dad skills."

"I thought you saved those skills for me?" Star pouted.

"Sometimes I need to use my skills on other people too."

~.~

They'd quickly gone back to the TARDIS and gotten back into the time vortex.

"So is it possible we just saved that kid from another kid in a bedspread," Clara wondered.

"Entirely possible, yes," the Doctor nodded, "bigger question, why did we end up with him and not you?"

"I got distracted," she admitted.

"But why that particular boy? You don't have any kind if connection with him, do you?"

"You don't have children do you?" Star tilted her head at the woman. "I don't need any more nieces or great-cousins at the moment."

"Why do you ask?" Clara eyed them. "And no I don't have any kids."

"The TARDIS was slaved to your time line, theoretically, there should be some connection." The Doctor remarked.

"Will, erm...will he...remember any of that?"

"Scrambled his memory," he shrugged her off, "shouldn't think so. Gave him a big old dream about being Dan the soldier man."

Star looked over, seeing Clara closing her eyes in despair, "You ok? Finding out about origins of dreams can be…" she paused for a right word, "freaky."

"Fine," she quickly nodded, "are you?"

Star shrugged.

"Can I ask a favour? I regret leaving my date as I did. I won't run into myself. I just…regret walking out like I did."

~.~

The TARDIS materialised in a side ally where the restaurant Clara had her date was. She wanted to go back to moments after she stormed out and apologise to her date, try and sort things out.

Past Clara stormed out of the restaurant, passing them, oblivious to them and the TARDIS.

"Is that what I look like from the back?" Clara asked, popping her head out, watching herself storm off.

"You look lovely." Star complimented her.

"I do look good don't I." she agreed.

"I've seen worse." The Doctor offered, not seeing the big deal of offering Clara a compliment.

Clara walked back into the restaurant as the Time Lords went back inside, dematerialising, trying to figure out why they'd gone to see Rupert and what connection he had with Clara.

The Doctor pulled a level, curious as to why they ended up in Rupert time line and not Clara's.

~.~

They'd manage to track down someone from Clara's future. Colonel Orson Pink. Star had burst into a fit of laughter at the name but they had found him in the future, he had asked them if they were the rescue party. So they brought him back to the restaurant Clara was, sending him out in his orange spacesuit, to collect Clara who had stormed into the room, severely annoyed at being interrupted.

"I am trying to have a date," she rambled as she stormed in, "a real life, inter human, actual date. It's a normal, nice, every day meeting-up-sort-of thing, and I just want to know do you have any other way to make this any more surreal that it already is…"

Orson pressed a button on his helmet, pulling it off, "hello." he greeted.

"Ah, Clara!" the Doctor grinned, walking up the stairs with Star.

Star turned to Orson, "well done, you found her. Not that she's hard to miss."

"Now really, this is a bit strange."

"Danny?" Clara breathed, staring at him in shock and confusion.

"What's wrong with your face?" the Doctor looked at her as she stared, eyes wide, "it's all eyes. Why are you all eyes? Get them under control."

"Who's Danny?" Orson frowned.

"This is Colonel Orson Pink," the Doctor explained, "from about 100 years in your future."

"Orson Pink?" Clara repeated.

"We laughed too!" Star laughed turning to Orson, "Sorry your name's just so funny."

"Do you have any connection with him?" the Doctor turned to Clara.

"Connection?" she frowned.

"Yes, maybe you're like a distant relative of yours or something?"

"How would I know?" she shook her head.

"Right ok," he nodded, turning to Orson, "do you have any old family photographs of her? You know probably quite old really fat looking?"

"I don't think Clara will end up fat or ugly." Star crossed her arms at him, "I doubt she'll look much different except older, with greyer hair. She might be taller though." She turned to Clara, "I don't think its possible for you to shrink anymore."

"Well. I don't..." Orson fumbled.

"How did you find him?" Clara cut in.

"You left a trace in the TARDIS telepathic circuits," Star explained, "we fired them up again, found him. Must be in your time line."

"Ok..."

"And you'll never guess where we found him!" She grinned.

~.~

They'd gone back to where they had found Orson; "So this is it then?" Clara asked as they stepped out of the TARDIS into a small ship made into a small living quarters a control panel in the middle of the room, a window letting in the little light from the rocky planet outside. "The end of the universe?"

"The end of the line," Star murmured, "The end of everything, the last planet. Some call it Utopia." She rubbed her head.

"This is actually the end of the universe?" she breathed.

"Hmm. The TARDIS isn't supposed to come this far, but some idiot turned the safeguard off." she mock-glared at the Doctor.

"Listen!" the Doctor hissed.

"To what?" Clara shook her head.

"Nothing. There's nothing to hear, nothing anywhere. Not a breath, not a slither, not a click or a tick. All the clocks have stopped. This is the silence at the end of time."

Clara looked over at Orson who was quickly packing his stuff, "then how did he get here? If he's from a hundred years in my future..."

"Pioneer time traveller." the Doctor shrugged her off.

"Like Hila?" Clara wondered.

"Exactly." Star nodded.

The Doctor soniced the controls, a clip appeared on the screen of Orson smiling and waving at the camera standing before his ship. The banner above him reading, 'See you next week, says time traveller.'

"It's a historic moment as Orson Pink becomes the first man to travel through time," an interviewer said on the screen, "what's going through your mind right now?"

"Honestly, I'm just focused in the mission," the man answered, "time travel is in my blood. In some ways it feels like I was born to do this. It's a historic day for mankind, and I know how this sounds, but for me it means even more: it's a fulfilment of my destiny."

"Rode the first great time shots," the Doctor told Clara, "they were supposed to fire him into the middle of next week."

"What happened?" she asked.

"He went a bit far."

"A bit?"

"A big bit."

The screen changed to footage of Orson being interviews.

"Now look at him," Star sighed, "Robinson Crusoe at the end of time itself. The last man standing in the universe."

"I always thought it would be me," the Doctor remarked.

"Yeah, and I'd be the last girl."

"It's not a competition," Clara looked at the pair.

"We know." They replied in unison.

"Course there's still time though." the Doctor shrugged.

"He looks like he's packing," Clara remarked, watching him stuff his belongs in a rucksack, not bothering to be neat, just packing as fast as he could

"Stranded for 6 months, just met time travellers. Of course he's packing."

Orson walked over to them, still packing, "you can do it then? You can get me home?"

"Just showed you didn't we?" the Doctor countered, "a test flight to a restaurant."

"But to my family, to my own time?"

"Easy! We can do that, can't we, Clara?"

"They can, yes." Clara nodded.

"Is everything ok?" Orson asked her as she stared at him.

"Yeah, fine," she nodded, "I'm fine."

"Do I know you?"

"Nope."

"Is she doing the 'all eyes' thing?" the Doctor wondered, "It's because her face is so wide."

"She needs 3 mirrors!" Star added, "3!"

"Can't leave immediately, though. The TARDIS will need to recharge."

Clara blinked, "sorry, what?"

"Over night, that's should do it. What do you think, Clara?"

"Over night?" Orson repeated, growing nervous.

"That's not a problem, is it?" Star tilted her head at him.

"No. Not a problem."

"Shame. Isn't it?"

"What's a shame?"

"Only four people left in the universe, and you're lying to the other three."

Orson faltered, trying to deny it, but was unsure what to say.

"It's the first thing I noticed when we stepped in here," the Doctor agreed with what Star silently meant, "you must have seen it too Clara, you've got eyes out to here!"

"Seen what?" she shook her head, ignoring the insult about her eyes.

Star pointed to the big round door with a wheel at the centre, "that. The universe is dead. Everything gone and dead. Nothing beyond the door, nothing at all..." she turned to Orson, "so why is it locked?"

"Please. Don't make me spend another night here." he pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Afraid of the dark?" the Doctor mocked, "But the dark is empty now."

The room turned red as the sun set behind the mountains.

"...no. No, it isn't." Orson shook his head, "not at night it isn't."

Seeing Orson looking terrified they'd led him inside the TARDIS, he'd be safer in there for the night, Clara keeping an eye in him, helping him settle in for the night before joining the Time Lords back out in the command deck, bringing with her tea for them all as she sat on a chair on Stars right, the girl in the middle.

"...what are we doing?" Clara inquired.

"Waiting," was all the Doctor told her.

"For what? For who? If everyone in the universe is dead then there's nobody out there."

"That's one way of looking at it."

"What's the other?"

He turned to her, serious, "that's a helluva lot of ghosts." the lighting changed as he spoke, a dim, eerie purple.

"Do you have your own mood lighting?" Clara tried to joke, "Because frankly, the accent is enough."

Star rolled her eyes and turned to the door, looking at the note on the door, illuminated by the light.

DON'T OPEN THE DOOR.

Clara followed her gaze, "where did that come from?" she was sure it wasn't there earlier.

"It was always there," the Doctor stated, turning to look at it as well, "only visible in the night light."

"But who wrote it?"

"Colonel Pink. Apparently, at night, he needs a reminder. 6 months stranded alone, I suppose it must be tempting."

"What must?"

"Company."

From outside there was a scuttle and a scratching, "What's that?" Clara gasped.

"What kind of explanation do you want?" Star asked.

"A reassuring one," she said, knowing Star would likely give her a terrifying one.

"Well, the systems are switching to low power," the Doctor explained, "There are temperature differentials all over this ship. It's like pipes banging when the heating goes off."

"Always thought there was something in the pipes."

"Me too," the Doctor agreed.

"Like a Basilisk." Star offered.

"Who were you having dinner with?" the Doctor randomly asked.

Clara blinked at the topic change and turned to the Time Lord, "are you making conversation?"

"He does that when bored." Star told her.

"I told you. A date."

"Serious?" the Doctor looked at her.

"It's a date."

"A serious date?"

"Do I have to bring him to you for approval?"

"We only want the best for you, Clara," Star smiled innocently.

"Seriously?" Clara raised her eyebrows.

"Well…" the girl shrugged, "it's not like you can get a better date then my big bro."

Just then there was a hiss and a slither from outside, making the three tense and Star pull out her dagger.

"Atmospheric pressure equalising," the Doctor said.

"Or?"

"Company."

"Why, why are we doing this?" Clara demanded, "Why don't we just go."

"Because we need to know," Star replied.

"Why? About what?"

"Suppose there were creatures, that lived to hide, that only showed themselves to the very young or the very old or the mad or anyone who wouldn't be believed..."

"What would they do, those creatures, when everyone was gone?" the Doctor wondered, "When there was only one man left standing in the universe...?"

They look over at the door as it clanged as though someone was knocking.

"...what's that?" Clara breathed.

"Potentially the hull cooling," the Doctor said, sitting up straighter.

"Potentially?"

"Believably. Someone knocking. Yes."

"You don't actually believe it do you? Hiding creatures. Things from under the bed."

"I do," Star admitted.

"Right..."

The Doctor slowly stood as stood in front of the door, "what's that in the mirror? Or the corner of your eye?" he recited, "what that footstep following, but never passing by?"

"Did we come to the end of the universe because of a nursery rhyme?" Clara sighed.

The Doctor pulled and the sonic and the lock button changed to unlocked.

"Is that you turning?"

"No!"

"Come on," Star pulled Clara away, "TARDIS."

"Im not leaving you both out here!" the woman crossed her arms.

"It's dangerous."

"Exactly. Star, come on, let's just go. Lets all go and forget this every happened."

Star swallowed, "I can't. I need to know. Even more than him." he jerked her head at the Doctor who was staring intently at the turning door handle, "there is something out there and it is messing with my mind. I need to find out what it is."

"If that door opens…" Clara began, "is there even an atmosphere out there?"

"There's an air shell around the ship," Star assured her.

"I'll be watching on the monitor." Clara warned, "keeping my eye on you and if I have to I will drag you both in by your earlobes before you can do anything stupid."

"Yes ma'am." Star nodded as Clara closed the TARDIS doors. She took a breath and joined the door, taking his hand tightly in hers as they watched the door.

"Perhaps they're all just waiting, perhaps when we're all dead out they'll come a-slithering from underneath the bed," the Doctor quoted.

The door slowly began to open.

They grabbed onto the console as the vacuum was sucked from the room. Star squinted at the door as everything flew passed. She couldn't see anything out there but that didn't mean there wasn't. it could be small or invisible. She didn't have time to thing of much else as the vacuum got stronger…

~.~

Star's eyes snapped open hearing the door shut, "where are we?" she demanded to Orson, seeing he was the only one there, well, as well as herself and the Doctor, who was still out cold, "Where's Clara?"

"She went outside somewhere." Orson said, unsure where they were himself.

Star hurried to the scanner as the Doctor awoke with a jolt, "Star!"

"Im right here!" she peeked around from the other side, "im fine! Promise!" she rolled her eyes as she got the sonic out and aimed it at her, "quit scanning me. Im fine!" she walked over and put the sonic back in his pocket, herself, "I'd tell you if I was, would I?"

"I suppose…" he began slowly.

"So stop worrying about me."
"Im always worrying about you," he murmured.

"What happened?" Orson called to them, "What did you see? What's out there?"

"What if there was nothing?" Clara closed the door as she entered again, "What if there never was anything? Nothing under the bed, nothing at the door. What if the big bad Time Lord doesn't want to admit he's just afraid of the dark."
"Where are we?" the Doctor turned to her, "Have we moved? Where have we landed?"
"I'd like to forget today happened." Star muttered.

The Doctor eyed both Clara and Star before pulling a lever sending them away.

~.~

They'd dropped Orson of back in his time, the man shaking the Time Lords hands and pulling Clara into a tight hug.

They were back in the TARDIS, the Time lords at the console and Clara at the side watching when she hugged them both from behind.

"Oh, not the hugging!" the Doctor moaned, "no, no. I'm against the hugging please..."

"But I love the hugging!" Star laughed, giving them both a squeeze.

~.~

They'd dropped Clara back outside her date's home and went back into the vortex.

The Doctor frowning at the word LISTEN in the chalk board before simply crossing it out.

"So, it's just a dream isn't it?" Star asked, walking over seeing him crossing it out.

"Hmm," he hummed, "just a silly dream from childhood everyone has. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Just a silly dream." She repeated, "wanna know what else im curious about?"

He glanced at her, "what?"

"Why am I classed as insane just because I can do things most cant? Why doesn't that mean im inspired? Or why im not someone who ran away because I am always running, still, aren't I? How come when we look into the Untempered Schism we are only classed as one of those three? What if there was a fourth option, or fifth. What if someone could be in two or more?"

"Get some sleep, Nova." The Doctor patted her shoulder, "you seem really tired." He repeated what she had said to him earlier, "you're just tired. Seriously just get some sleep, please."

The grin she had on her face faded into a glare as she folded her arms, "you're mocking me aren't you?"

"Course not." He chuckled.

"I'll be in the library if you need me." She turned and walked off.

The Doctor shook his head, watching her leave. He'd never understand her or how are mind works…but, she was onto something.

TheGirlWithHerHeadInABook1: Don't worry. We will have a flirting Star one day :)