Invasive Species

4

"A gift, for your trouble," the Doctor set a piping hot cup of coffee down in front of a very woozy Clara, her eyes still sticky from tired; she didn't think she'd washed her face properly. Just driving them into work had been more of a chore than usual. Forgetting where they were for half a second (the staff room) Clara instinctively kissed the Doctor's cheek once she'd sat back down in the next seat. Luckily, they weren't in a room with Rose Tyler, so it didn't matter all that much. Everyone else was focused on how unhappy they were to be there as well.

They'd been up at quarter-to-six that morning by Ida, Moore's secretary, summoning them to the school promptly for half-past-seven, because the police needed to talk to the teachers. She herself felt like death, and Sarah wasn't faring much better; she kept sniffing, sick with worry over the fate of her missing cats.

"I love you," Clara murmured as quietly as she could to the Doctor, grateful for the caffeine. Not quietly enough, though, because Kyle – who was poorly trying to comfort Sarah by telling her it was statistically unlikely that both Louis and Marie had been run over – decided it was the right time to stick his nose right in their business.

"Is that really appropriate for school hours?" he snapped.

"It's seven-thirty," the Doctor matched his tone, "We're not in school hours."

"Just because you're a prude doesn't mean the rest of us are," Clara said.

"Maybe you'd get more sleep if you paced yourselves a little," he quipped, noticing how exhausted Clara was.

"What would be the fun in that?" she sipped her coffee.

Moore, preceded by Ida, entered the staff room, rammed full with the entire faculty. Behind them was a pair of police officers. What little chatter there was cut out immediately. The Doctor shifted uncomfortably next to Clara; for some reason, she got especially anxious around the police, always worried she was going to be arrested for something. Then again, she did get arrested more often than most. She started bouncing her foot up and down, agitated, and Clara was forced to hold her hand to stop her from looking so guilty.

"Morning. I'm DC Anderson, sorry for getting you all up so early," the 'main one' cleared his throat before speaking, sounding like he was at the tail end of a nasty cough. He had a tissue balled up in one of his hands. "We'd just like to make you aware we're in the middle of a missing persons epidemic-" Questions were launched at the detective from all angles. Clara was shocked, she thought they'd just be there to warn them about the Manifest drug again.

"Could we all treat Detective Anderson with a little more respect, please?" Moore called loudly over them, "This is a very serious matter."

"There's been an enormous increase in missing person reports over the last week, and multiple reports of children from this school. Normally we'd come in and interview teachers about anything that could cause a child to run away, or if they'd been acting strangely, but we've been overrun."

"Is it just kids?" the Doctor interrupted, letting go of Clara's hand and leaning on the table in front of them.

"No. There's an increase in every age group and ethnicity. And missing animals, too." Sarah let out a small sob when he said that. "We're only here to warn you to make sure the children are aware, before they see the bulletins on the news later this evening and get scared. It'll sound best coming from their teachers first, we don't want any scaremongering."

"What are we supposed to tell them?" asked Jeremy Wu, "Don't go missing?"

"This is no laughing matter, Mr Wu," Lorna snapped at him. "Beginning next week, we're going to start chaperoning them on the buses. You'll be up first."

"What if I go missing?"

"We'll have a party," Cameron McCloud muttered from elsewhere.

"Are you all quite finished?" Moore asked. Silence. She indicated for Anderson to continue.

"Like I was saying, the increase is across all demographics. So you should all be especially careful, too. Don't worry, the police are doing the best we can, this will all be resolved very soon. Are there any questions?" A dozen hands raised in the room. Anderson looked around and pretended not to see them. "No? Good. We've got three other schools to visit in the next hour, so if you'll excuse us…" He turned to leave, his PC companion in a high-vis vest following, while the teachers shouted after him with a myriad of objections.

"I hate cops," the Doctor grumbled next to Clara. "How have we not noticed that kids have been going missing?"

"There were a few who didn't show up to school yesterday," she said, "I was thinking about bringing up a truancy problem again…"

"My cats!" Sarah wept next to them, "What could have happened to them? They never even normally leave the garden…"

"I'm calling a whole-school assembly this morning, nine-fifteen. They'll go to class and you'll bring them to the main hall as soon as possible, and I'll address the students," Moore said, then swept away with Ida at her heels.

"Great," Clara muttered, "And there's still over an hour before school actually begins…"

"That's the trouble with cops," said the Doctor, "They think they're better than you. The feds never tell anybody a damn thing."

"…I should go home," Clara said, thinking, then turned to ask her wife, "Do you want to get breakfast?" They hadn't had time to eat since they'd been rushed out early for this irritatingly short bulletin.

"Home?"

"I mean – for Matts. We should drive her. Don't you think?"

"Oh. Sure, yeah. Do we have time?"

"Just go," Sarah said next to them, sniffing, "I'll let you know if you miss anything."

"We'll bring you a coffee," Clara promised as she went about re-gathering her things. She felt it was the least she could do for Sarah not making a fuss about them disappearing that morning – and while she was so upset about her cats. They rushed out after that, lest they be forced to go on a coffee run for half the teaching staff. And because Clara was trying to avoid Tom because she knew he was going to harangue her to ask questions about war poets at the next opportunity, and she thought it was too early to talk about war poets. Even if it was one of the few areas of literature they didn't bicker about – as much.

They took a detour, however, down to the arts block. The English department was closest to the main building, right through a set of double doors, as one of the three core subjects. After that came the Humanities rooms, split amongst History and RE, and then Geography and Politics around another corner. Clara rarely strayed all the way down there, though, she only ever went as far as the Doctor's classroom. She ducked into her office so that they could leave their things behind down there, the Doctor going to her own room.

After dumping her things on the desk, which was just her laptop and a selection of books she'd taken home to re-read and annotate, she paused to look around the room. The sun was just coming up outside, making the room a shade of pink. She had a few things of the Doctor's in there, which she left in the office because the office door could be locked but the classroom door couldn't, but aside from that it was still emptier than she would like.

"What do you think about it in here?" she asked once the Doctor returned, looking for her. "Does it seem empty?"

"I think it's fine. You're too used to being surrounded by my junk."

"It's our junk," Clara corrected her, "Maybe you're right. Should I bring some more stuff? How about one of those old radios you've got?"

"Depends which radio," said the Doctor, who was very protective of her vintage audio equipment, which she collected for a reason Clara had never been able to understand. A week after she regenerated she'd found a Walkman somewhere on the TARDIS, and that was that; she still had it, in the house somewhere.

"I could get a new radio," Clara said.

"They don't sell radios anymore, they're all online."

"You're bumming me out."

"I'll find you a radio. Or take one of the record players and vinyls, then people'll think you're cool, like me." Clara doubted that.

"Tell you what I'll do, I'll go find that papier-mache TARDIS you made when you were making models for the space race. Put it on the windowsill. Or what about a plant?"

"You won't remember to water it."

"A fake one, then. For colour?" She put her coat back on and the Doctor held the office door open for her to leave. "You're supposed to be the savvy decorator," Clara reminded her, Thirteen the one who decided how every room they inhabited looked. She decided the placement of all the furniture, the colours of the carpets, the paint, the upholstery – and she was really very good at it, so Clara just let her.

"It's your office, Coo."

"And I like being reminded of you when I'm in it."

"I'll see what knick-knacks I can dig out," she relented, "Anyway – where're we heading for breakfast?"

"Jesus, I don't know, it's not even eight in the morning… let's find a hotel," she suggested, "Hotel restaurants will be open by now, in chains."

"You want to find a hotel?"

"We're in Brighton, it's almost entirely made up of hotels."

"Well, sure, if you think we've got the time."

"It's that or McDonald's."

"If only we had a time machine, we could go somewhere and grab breakfast whenever, stay for as long as we liked…"

"Do you know what? There's that bakery down the road. Let's stop there instead," Clara decided. The Doctor was indifferent, though Clara knew she would be all for it if she did decide to bother Jenny and get her to bring the TARDIS down to whisk them away for breakfast somewhere. "I'll call Matts and see if she wants anything. Bacon sandwich, or something. And make sure she doesn't leave without us…"

Clara did just that as they continued their hasty return to the Westfalia, but she had to call three times for Matilda – who was still asleep – to actually answer, which she did very woozily. Clara would be lying if she hadn't thought for one fleeting second that Mattie might have gone missing in the night, but no, she was just a heavy sleeper. After Clara chastised her for still being asleep at that time of the morning (though they usually left her to get up of her own accord), she finally managed to acquire both a breakfast order and a promise that she'd wait for them to take her to school.

"Do you think we should do something?" Clara asked the Doctor, who'd sunk deep into her thoughts since Clara had started fumbling with her phone, while she went about starting the engine.

"Hmm?"

"People going missing en masse, sweetheart," she implored, "Shouldn't we look into it?"

"I'm thinking about it…" The Doctor usually jumped at the opportunity to investigate something strange. "The issue is, it sounds like they're disappearing from all across Brighton, which is a lot stranger than, I don't know, standard alien abductions or kidnappings… and there's no hysteria."

"What about the meteor shower?" Clara suggested, "What was it about it that you thought was strange?"

"Just… the colours seemed different. But maybe you have a point… I don't know. I'll have Helix scan. Maybe talk to Jenny, depends what they say on the news tonight."

"Here I thought you'd suggest we skip school and break into the police station to see what they have to say."

"You know I'd love to, but I don't want to get arrested when I actually have to live in the same city. Better stay out of the pig-pen."

"Charming. But that's your verdict? Wait and see?"

"We don't even know where they've gone missing from," she said, "Try not to think about it, I'll work on it. Talk to Helix, like I said, okay?"

"…Alright, but…"

"But what?"

"I'm worried, too. If you find something, you'll tell me, right? You won't go off on your own?"

"Of course not. Just try to put it out of your mind for now, Coo."

"I don't get it, miss."

"Get what, Steph?" Clara asked with a sigh later that Friday afternoon. There wasn't too long to go until the end of the lesson and school day, so she wasn't too concerned about it being derailed by more questions. The same questions she'd been fielding since Moore's ominous assembly that morning warning the student body about an increased risk of them being kidnapped. Though, she would certainly rather answer questions about To Kill a Mockingbird, which was what they were supposed to be doing.

"Like, what are we supposed to do to not get kidnapped?" Steph persisted. She was very much looking forward to not having to listen to Steph's incessant questions and kept eyeing the clock. Everybody else just let her talk, thinking Clara utterly oblivious to the fact it was a scheme to get them out of doing more work. The same trick that had been pulled in schools for centuries.

"The police weren't particularly forthcoming with any advice this morning," Clara explained wearily, "Just watch the news later tonight, they said there'd be something on the news."

"So you're not worried about it? Us?"

"Too busy worrying about myself, it's not just schoolkids. It's everybody who's vanishing."

"They should cancel school," Steph said.

"You'd miss your English lessons if they did that," Clara pointed out, which shut her up. She was very aware of how Steph never missed an English lesson; it was one of the few subjects she'd never skived, being in Clara's class the previous year, too. She had a mark next to her name on the online register that informed teachers Steph was a known truant, often skipping Maths lessons. "Look, the police didn't tell us anything. They didn't say where people are going missing from, if they have any suspects we should warn you about, nothing. We're all in the dark. Miss Pickman's cats have even disappeared."

"I'd disappear if I had to live with Miss Pickman," said a boy at the back of the classroom, Sam.

"I'll tell her to set you some extra homework this week, then, shall I?" Clara threatened, which caused about as many sniggers as his joke about Sarah had done to begin with. "I understand you're all scared, but the police are doing everything they can." She thought they probably were doing everything they could, too, but she wasn't convinced about how much that was.

"Maybe we should be escorted home?" Steph suggested, "Like, by teachers." Clara knew exactly what that meant, because she wasn't born yesterday.

"Not in our contracts."

"But you're in loco parentis."

"While you're in school we are, not when you're out there. Just don't go out late or on your own. And watch the news."

"Like Boo Radley?"

"Exactly, Hannah," Clara said, surprised at Hannah speaking up since she'd been so heartbroken after being publicly dumped by Steph herself the day before. Steph had now started attaching herself to her brother's friends again. "Just… become shut-ins. Until the police sort everything out."

"What if there's a serial killer?" Steph asked.

"No serial killer could kidnap so many people so quickly," Clara said, like that was somehow supposed to be a comfort to them.

"Could be a gang of serial killers. Or aliens, abducting people."

"Haven't seen any flying saucers," Clara said, trying to pretend like alien abductions weren't also her top theory, certainly higher than a gang of marauding Jack the Ripper copycats stalking the streets of Brighton.

"There was that meteor shower," Jakub said. He was normally quite quiet, practically mute compared to his sister, and often only spoke when he had something to say. Again, though, Clara was also concerned with the meteor shower. But if Helix was looking into it at home, since he was integrated into the house as a sort of family PA (the same role he played on the TARDIS), then Clara didn't know what more she could do. Maybe she would talk to Esther about it, see if she had heard anything. Even the Lightning Girl wasn't too big for missing people, she'd always been down-to-earth.

"I'm telling you, try not to think about it," Clara implored, "If your parents, or the police, suggest a curfew – do your best to listen to it, too." There were groans of annoyance throughout the room. "I know, you all hate the idea of a curfew, you're all probably escape artists who could get out of one easily, but people are only worried about you. You don't want your parents to be worried sick about you, right?"

"They wouldn't notice," Steph said. Jakub kicked her from two seats away.

"Hey!" Clara said, "No fighting in my classroom. Just because you're siblings doesn't mean you get a pass for mindless violence, not around me, anyway." The minute-hand finally struck three-thirty, and the bell rang loudly. They began putting their things in their bags and Clara sat up in her chair, "You know what I want you all to do? Over the weekend, while you're thinking about how to stay safe from those Bob Ewell types out there, write a paragraph each – a third of a page – about how you think Boo Radley felt when he decided to intervene with the attack after the pageant. Where was he, what did he see, what was the moment when he knew he couldn't stand by and watch? Anyone who doesn't do it for Tuesday will have to do it again for Wednesday, overnight, and a full page." They groaned again.

"That's not fair, miss," somebody complained.

"Then you'd better do it the first time, hadn't you? De-mystifying Boo Radley will be a useful exercise in understanding the limitations of Scout as a narrator, which fits into what we're doing next week. And you'd better get to finishing the book if you didn't read it over summer," she warned loudly as they filed out of the room as quickly as possible, "I'll be able to tell if you haven't. It's very easy to work out who's lying." It was, too, though they never believed her. "Could I have a word, Steph?" Steph would bend over backwards for 'a word' with Clara, and so she instantly u-turned on her way out of the room to appear promptly in front of Clara's desk while Clara closed her computer. She was aware of Jakub waiting outside to accompany his sister out of the school.

"Are you going to offer me a lift home? I don't think Hanover is that far." Clara agreed, Hanover wasn't so far, but that certainly wasn't what she wanted. She crossed her arms sternly.

"I need to talk to you about boundaries," she said.

"What's a boundary?" Steph pretended to be oblivious, "You could teach me."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You really need to stop making inappropriate remarks, do you understand? I heard you were asking Matilda to give you my phone number."

"I can ask you personally if you want?"

"Steph, I'm serious. I can have you moved out of my form and my classes in an instant, you know."

"Well – no – there's – I-"

"Listen, it's not really about pestering me, but I don't want you to…" Clara's eyes strayed to the doorway, where Jake still lurked, but now somebody else – Mattie. "Just bear it in mind. This is a classroom, I'm a teacher, and I'm sure Matilda can attest that being in Miss Pickman's form isn't nearly so interesting as me and my wife's." Steph grimaced, also spotting Matilda. "Or I could talk to Mrs Mueller, I'm sure she'd love to keep a close eye on you, stop you from skiving as many maths lessons. I'm also concerned about seeing Hannah crying in the hallways." Steph rolled her eyes.

"It was nothing."

"I heard what happened, it wasn't very nice. Next time you dump someone, could you try and spare them the public humiliation?" Steph glared at her, and Clara didn't wait for a response. "Fine… Go home, and you and Jake make sure you're careful this weekend, okay? I'd hate to see anybody in my form on the missing posters." She let Steph leave, joining Jake in the corridor.

"Your step-mum has it in for me," she said to Mattie on her way past.

"She's not my step-mum, and you know Hannah had a go at me earlier? I didn't even do anything," Mattie argued back, "I don't even know either of you."

"You can get to know me, if you want."

"We're leaving, we have to catch the train," Jake decided, grabbing her arm and dragging her away finally. Mattie watched them go while Clara continued gathering her things.

"Why is Hannah Beckett angry with you?" Clara asked once they were out of earshot. The Doctor was supposed to come and meet them at Clara's classroom, which was closer to the exit, so they were just there waiting for the time being.

"Um…"

"Matts…"

"How much did you hear about the thing with Steph and Hannah?"

"I heard that Steph broke up with her very loudly in the canteen."

"Yeah…"

"Why?"

"Well, it was sort of… she did that and then told Hannah that I was her new girlfriend. And then I ran away, to form, early. So now they all hate me."

"Right… just to check, you're definitely not going out with Steph, right? Because she's a terrible first girlfriend, trust me, I was her once," Clara said.

"No! I'm not even gay, sorry to disappoint you, 'step-mum.'"

"Ha, ha. I'd just worry about you getting the same treatment as Hannah. Who wants to be publicly dumped? Poor girl… look, she'll get over it, she's young, I wouldn't worry."

"I wasn't."

"Well… good."

"Are you saying you'd disapprove if I did go out with her? Say, if I liked girls, and fell for her plays, you'd, like, ban me?" Mattie questioned wryly.

"I'd disapprove, but it's your life. Besides, at least Steph couldn't get you pregnant – an alien, Manifest teen pregnancy is the last thing we need," Clara sighed, "Why? Who're you thinking of going out with?"

"I'm not, I just wanted to know what you'd do."

"Lock you in your bedroom and board up the windows."

"Whose bedroom are we boarding up?" the Doctor stuck her head around the doorway while the last trickle of students walked past, all intent on getting out of the building as quickly as humanly possible.

"Matilda's, if she gets a boyfriend."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No, I don't even know any boys," Mattie said.

"Well, keep it that way, I don't like boys in the house," said the Doctor, "Except Adam Mitchell, but he doesn't really count as a boy, y'know?"

"Why don't you like boys in the house?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "They're just everywhere. You can get tired of them so easily. I've always preferred hanging out with girls."

"Anyway, Matts, in all seriousness, you know you if you get a boyfriend, you can ask me any questions about contraception-" Mattie stopped Clara very quickly when she brought that up.

"You don't have to say anything else, please, I'll die of embarrassment, I'm never going to talk to a boy, okay? Are you happy now?"

"As long as you're happy," Clara smiled at her on their way out. "Really, though, if you ever decide you want to go on the pill-"

"Stop talking! I'm only fifteen, I'm a child."

"Oh, now you're a child?" Clara quipped, when Matilda spent half her time reminding them she was technically fifty. She could change her age on a whim for whenever it suited her. "Safe sex is no joke."

"You know what else isn't a joke? Teen suicide. And that's where I'm heading if this conversation continues."

"Don't say things like that, Matts; you sound like my sister."

"It is National Suicide Prevention Month," the Doctor said knowingly, "If Mattie wants to talk about teen suicide, we've got all those helpline phone numbers."

"She doesn't need any helplines, she can talk to us," said Clara, shaking her head, "You do know you can talk to us if you ever feel depressed, don't you?"

"Yes, Clara," Matilda said boredly, "If I ever plan on killing myself, I'll let you know beforehand."

"You're just like your mother sometimes," said the Doctor, though Mattie couldn't quite work out whether that was a compliment, "With that sarcasm."

On their way out of the building they found their route blocked, however, by the boy's football team hanging around near the PE changing rooms, which were just down the corridor from the school's back door (which led to the staff carpark and the van.) Clara was surprised; shouldn't the football team be getting changed, or playing football? Instead, they were moping near the windows. Then Terrance Baxter forced his way back into the building – after trying to push a pull door and walking flat into it, to some laughter – in a sour mood.

"Might as well go home," he told the boys, "The situation with the pitch is too bad. Won't be any practice until it gets sorted." They all groaned unanimously, "Just go down the bloody park, or something. You've got footballs, haven't you? Do that, then."

"We're supposed to be encouraging," a woman behind Clara, the Doctor and Mattie said, walking around them. Magda Sokolov, the girls' PE teacher; Magda and Terry didn't get along at all, mainly because Magda did her work, and Terry was a lazy old fart.

"What's going on?" Clara asked as the boys picked up their bags and started meandering out of the building, one carrying a football.

"There's an issue with the pitch, I've just been on the phone about it," Magda explained.

"And issue? It's a freak of nature, more like," Terry grumbled, "It's covered in grass."

"It's a football pitch," said Clara dryly, "It's supposed to have grass."

"Overgrown," Magda explained, "It's covered in roots, you can't walk across it without tripping. I've called some landscapers, they'll be here next week; god knows how I'm going to convince Moore to pay for the invoice with the school's budget…"

"Lorna believes the sports facilities are important, I'm sure she'll pay for this with the school's money," said Clara, "But… people were doing PE yesterday, weren't they? Didn't you have PE yesterday, Matts?"

Mattie was distracted by something the Doctor was saying to her, "Hmm?"

"PE. Yesterday."

"Oh. What about it?"

Clara rolled her eyes, "Never mind…"

"Matilda's class were in the gym," said Magda, but grew confused, "Sorry, is she your…?"

"Ward," said Clara, "Sort of… we're her guardians."

"You've adopted a teenager? Why would you do that to yourself?" Terry jibed.

"It's complicated."

"I hate kids…" he grumbled.

"You're a teacher," Magda pointed out.

"So? I'll be a championship manager one day." Clara doubted that, he was at least forty already. "I was telling Sarah about it yesterday."

"I don't know why you waste your time with her," Magda said, regressing to idle gossip now that there weren't any kids within earshot (save for Matilda). "She doesn't like you. She thinks you're disgusting, just like the rest of us." Terry being the teacher who had been caught engaging in 'inappropriate activities' with a dinner lady in the sports supply room. The dinner lady had been let go, but somehow, Terry's job remained intact.

"Nah," he shrugged, "She likes me more than Chapel."

"I think you're both arseholes," Magda said, "And so does Sarah. And she's not great herself."

"She's decent," Clara said in meagre defence of her closest friend on the faculty, excluding her wife, "She let us carpool with her in spring."

"Yeah, well, while you lot stay here chin-wagging, I've got a date," Terry announced smugly, "Going down Lazer Bowl."

"What? Now?" Clara asked, "You've got a date to go Lazer Bowl at four in the afternoon?"

"She can't go later, she works nights," he said, "She's a stripper. Sapphire. Give her my name, she might just let you have a touch," he winked, addressing this almost entirely towards Clara.

"Charming," she said, "But I've had my fair share of strippers."

"Excuse me?" the Doctor interrupted, distracted for just long enough for Matilda to seize victory in what looked to be a very intense thumb war; they'd been playing for a minute or so behind Clara's back.

"Terry's going Lazer Bowl with a stripper," Clara explained.

"That's so cool! Why don't we go to Lazer Bowl?" the Doctor asked.

"Why aren't you a stripper?" Clara countered. The Doctor paused.

"I mean, I guess that's a valid question…"

"Can we go home yet?" Mattie asked, "I don't want to hear where this conversation is going. Remember what I was saying earlier? About teen suicide?"

"Sweetheart, I told you not to say that," Clara told her, "But yes, we should go. Don't want to make Terry late, after all."

"I'm gonna trounce her," Terry said proudly, "She's only got one arm." And then he swaggered off, very proud of himself.

"I almost want to go with him," said Magda once he'd left, "Where do you think he found a one-armed stripper who wants to go bowling?"

"God knows… right, then," Clara interrupted Mattie and the Doctor's thumb war rematch, "Let's go…" They left Magda – who presumably had some other business to attend to – behind in the school.

But alas, their odyssey towards the bright blue Volkswagen was only destined to be held up even more. She was aware of the Doctor questioning her about how she was now suddenly desperate to go play laser tag, and how she knew some enormous, intergalactic laser tag arena for 'pros' (which they certainly were not) over in a different star system, but Clara found herself blocking this out. After all, she could always take Jenny to play laser tag if she was that desperate, she was surely a match for any other competitors.

"Hey," Mattie touched Clara's arm and tugged on her to look a certain way, back towards the building.

"What?"

"What's going on over there?" Matilda pointed at a scene playing out behind the bike racks, now empty of nearly all the bikes but not empty of school children, it seemed. And certainly not the most troubling one of all, because there was Steph and her most recent flame, Hannah Beckett, having some kind of argument. Hannah kept trying to leave, but Steph grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Nothing good, I'm sure," said Clara. They were too far away to hear anything. It looked like Hannah began to cry again.

"Shouldn't you do something?" Mattie asked, glancing between the Oswalds.

"They're just arguing, and we're outside of school hours," Clara said. "That kind of thing is… it's part of growing up, I guess. We all get into it every now and then."

"Really?" Mattie was unconvinced. In the blink of an eye, Steph tried to kiss Hannah, and got a very hard slap around the face for her trouble; that they heard. Hannah stormed off while Steph nursed the side of her face. Then a second figure emerged, the taller shape of Jakub, who also wasn't happy with Steph. He very clearly started arguing with her, and she shouted right back, though it was mostly in Polish.

"Weren't they going to be late for the train home?" Mattie asked.

"I suppose that's what they're arguing about," said the Doctor, still watching, crossing her arms. She looked worried.

"…the shit we're going to get from mum and dad!" Jakub shouted loud enough for them to hear most of the words.

"Well, fuck off, then!" Steph yelled back at him.

"Me fuck off!? I'm the only one you have to talk to!"

"You're not going to talk to me! You're just going to hang out with Sam, smoking weed, or whatever it is you do!" Jake didn't even bother to continue fighting, just turned on his heels and left Steph where she was, bag slung over his shoulder. "Jakub! Get back here!" Steph reverted to Polish again and went off in pursuit of him, right as he dropped a hoverboard he'd been carrying down onto the concrete and went off that way, skating faster than Steph could walk.

Clara sighed, "See? That's why I worry about her. It's exactly the kind of shit I used to get up to when mum died." She turned to go back towards the van.

"You're not even gonna check on her?" Mattie asked.

"And say what?"

"Well… well, fine, you do that," Mattie told them, "I'm going to go see if she's alright, though. At least I'm not bound by whatever weird teacher code you two are living by." She took off away down the steps out of the staff carpark, towards the bike rack.

"She really is just like Martha," she heard the Doctor say behind her.

It didn't take Mattie long to catch up with Steph, who was wandering out of the school gates now on her own, very few students left in the area.

"Steph? …Stefani!" She turned around, tears in her eyes, and stopped to wait. Mattie didn't quite know what she was going to say when she caught up to her, however. "…Sorry, I just… I saw what happened just now, with Hannah and then Jake…" Jake was already gone. "I have some tissues, I always carry tissues with me." She fumbled in her pockets and took out a packet of them, holding it for Steph, who took one meekly. Her demeanour seemed to have been shattered. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You got hit in the face," Mattie reminded her.

"Why do you care?"

"I guess I just don't want to watch people be upset, although, I don't think I'm good at talking to them… or, like, consoling anybody…"

"You know, you're weird, Matilda," Steph said.

"I've heard that, is it bad?"

Steph sighed, "I suppose not. Look, I'm fine, you can just go back to your step-parents and get driven home to whatever wonderful house the Oswalds live in."

"They're not my step-parents," Mattie told her, "They're not even… they're just…"

"I don't want to hear it, really, I'm fine," Steph shook her head, "Anything I say you're just gonna tell them, anyway."

"What is there to tell?" Mattie implored, but Steph didn't care.

"Thanks for the tissue, Mattie, but I'm not interested in being spied on by my teachers," she turned to go.

"I'm not a grass," Mattie said, following her a little, "Look, you're…" Steph stopped to look at her again, "I don't know, one of the two people here who's talked to me. I've never really been to school before, so…"

"You've never been to school?"

"No, it's… I don't want to talk about that. Just – what's your phone number, I guess." Steph paused. "Or you could have mine? I have mine memorised."

"…Fine," she said eventually, taking out her phone so that Mattie could dictate her number. Better that than risk Steph stealing Clara's personal number from Matilda's contacts. "…I've got to go. I'll get yelled at if I'm late."

"Yeah, well, I'll see you next week, though?" Steph just nodded and then finally left, taking off to follow Jakub. Matilda felt useless, that she could have done something more – Steph was clearly upset, after all, and it didn't seem like it was related entirely to her botched attempt to apologise to Hannah. What had been the right thing to say?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Thinking it was probably Clara asking what was going on, she took it out to check as she began her trudge back to the carpark.

It wasn't Clara, though; it was Aki, frantically texting her a bizarre mix of English and Japanese characters. Why was everyone bilingual except for her? Ugh. Apparently, Aki's dog had gone missing and she wanted Matilda to come and help her look, somewhere near the seafront. When she finally returned to Clara and the Doctor, sitting in the front of the van and waiting for her while arguing about which ancient CD to listen to, her eyes were glued to her phone. She missed the door handle when she first reached for it.

"Aki's freaking out, her dog's gone missing," she said once she clambered into the long front seat, next to the Doctor.

"Aki? What about Steph?" the Doctor implored.

"She told me to piss off, I guess. A bit nicer than that, I don't know, she stormed off… Aki wants me to go to North Laine to help her. Where's North Laine?"

"Near the beach – you're not going, sorry," said Clara sternly, "And tell Aki not to look, either. The last thing we need is more people going missing…"

"Do you two just never act? You ignore these missing people, you won't go and see if Steph's okay, now you won't let me go help Aki, my only real friend-"

"Sweetheart," Clara cut her off as she started the engine, "We're trying our best."

"And we're not doing nothing," the Doctor added, "Helix is doing some scans."

"'Doing some scans'," Mattie repeated bitterly, "Of course Helix is 'doing some scans'…"

"Hey, enough of the attitude," Clara told her off, though her tone of voice was quite soft, sympathetic.

"We will do whatever is in our power to do, okay?" the Doctor said, "I don't like standing by while bad things happen, either. But… with Steph, there are professional boundaries. How does it look if some teachers everybody knows she's infatuated with start comforting outside of school hours? I'll tell you how it looks; like grooming. There are situations we can't intervene in."

"Fine, fine…"

"And the dog is for your own safety. You can't go out in the night, just the two of you, wandering the streets looking for a lost dog, Mattie," the Doctor continued, "I'd love to, but this is bigger than one dog. We need a… plan of action. More information. A little more, at least. Look, I don't stand down when people are in trouble, I never have, and I never will."

"She's right," Clara nodded, "We're not sitting by and doing nothing. Do you know why I have this scar?" Mattie glanced at it when prompted, though she truthfully never thought much of it; she'd never known Clara without her scarred left arm, it had always been like that.

"No, you've never really told me." It had something vaguely to do with Esther, a long time ago, that was all Matilda knew.

"To remind me not to sit by and do nothing. I don't like looking at all this, either." She lifted one of her hands from the steering wheel to point vaguely at the streets as they passed, which was only when Mattie realised they were surrounded, on all sides, by missing posters. Fences, lampposts, people's front doors, shop windows; the streets were lined up and down with the bleak images of happy pets, happy children, happy people, all of them now vanished. It surely wasn't flying saucers and little green men doing this, or they would have noticed.

"Aki asked me about it."

"Hm?"

"Your scar – she asked me if I knew how you got it."

"Oh. It's not a nice story. I'll tell you one day, I'm sure, it's just… not very fun to tell. But the story we tell people at school is that it was an incident with some faulty wiring when I was a toddler and I hardly remember a thing, okay?"

"…Okay…" said Matilda. She wanted to know now, but it seemed like it was unpleasantly similar to the other wound-related stories of her non-blood family, like the story she'd never heard about what happened to Jenny's thumb, or how Oswin lost her leg, or why the Doctor sometimes got confused and called her 'Martha' without realising. She'd gotten in the habit of believing that they were things she wouldn't like to hear about a very long time ago. After all, it was a very large scar, covering the length of Clara's entire left arm with the worst patch of shiny, damaged tissue around her wrist; it was surely the result of nothing nice.

"I've seen something like this happen before, you know," the Doctor began after a lapse in the conversation, "People going missing without a trace. Well, I say before, missing people is a pretty frequent harbinger of doom. But it was with Rose, a very long time ago – when we went to the Olympics, in London."

"Did you go to the Olympics?" Mattie asked.

"I totally carried the torch and lit the big flame!" the Doctor said proudly, beaming at her, "It'll be on YouTube somewhere. In among all the weird homages to Shakespeare and the British Empire. Not that the British Empire is worth remembering in any context outside of its position as one of the most violent and genocidal oligarchies in human history…"

"Get to your story, sweetheart," Clara prompted.

"Oh, right, well, these kids were disappearing, all in this one neighbourhood. This totally ordinary street, you'd think nothing of it, just suburban London in its prime."

"But what was happening?" Mattie asked.

"There was this alien, an Isolus, looks a little bit like a cross between a floating flower and a jellyfish. And the thing about them is they travel, all the Isolus kids, through space together on solar winds. Billions of them, but this one – still only a child – got lost, and its pod landed on this street on Earth. So it was stranded, and it took possession of this girl, Chloe, and she started, well… sort of, trapping people in drawings. Like, she'd draw someone – a kid, a person, a cat, whatever – and it would be absorbed by the picture. Happened to me, and the TARDIS, had to rely on Rose to figure it all out. But, y'know, Rose is good in a crisis, even before she became a literal god of time, or whatever…"

"Is that what's happening now? An Isolus?"

"Oh, well… it could be, maybe, but the likelihood of that kind of thing happening twice is tiny. And besides, Chloe had to at least sort-of know what the people she took looked like, because she had to draw them. Seems impossible somebody could be drawing so many individuals from across the entire city. She was only able to take so many because she drew the whole Olympic stadium, and eventually tried to draw a picture of the planet, but it wasn't malign. It was just lonely."

Clara turned to pull into the drive while the Doctor kept talking about this past outing with Rose, which Mattie had definitely heard some mention of before – 'the time we went to the 2012 Olympics' – from her godmother, but had to slam on the brakes. The whole van jerked.

"Did you stall? What was that?" the Doctor asked. Clara was leaning forwards over the dashboard, however, frowning. Without a word, she pulled on the handbrake and got out. Mattie and the Doctor followed, leaving the van with the doors open, to see something quite unusual: a tree.

Right in the middle of their driveway, peeking up through the gravel, was a foot-tall tree, just growing there. Matilda didn't recall it being there that morning. Could trees just grow in a matter of hours?

"Okay, that's… weird," said the Doctor, putting her hands on her hips.

"There was no tree there yesterday," Clara said, "Have you planted a tree?"

"Why would I plant a tree in the middle of the driveway?"

"…Maybe some kid did it. It's only gravel here, you could dig it up, I guess…"

"'Some kid'?" Mattie asked.

"Lyle Thompson lives a few doors down, and he can be a shit sometimes," Clara said, "You won't know him, he's just gone into Year 9."

"Where do you think he got a tree from?" Mattie said.

"No idea, a garden centre? Nicked it from somebody else? Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me, when I was in school one of the sixth formers paid to have a batch of live crayfish delivered to the front reception."

"Really? Damn, what a genius…" said the Doctor, "You've never told me that story."

"Well, they were crawling all over the office. I think he got some delivered to the kitchens, too. Got expelled for his efforts, three months before our A2 exams," Clara explained, "I think he ended up getting an apprenticeship at a funeral home."

"How strange," the Doctor mused.

"Well… what are you going to do about the tree?" Mattie looked between them.

"Ignore the tree," Clara sighed, "I'll park on the street."

"I'll dig it up tomorrow," the Doctor decided, "Not tonight, I'm too tired. C'mon, Matts, let's go inside. I'll tell you more about the Olympics."

"Sure…" said Mattie unsurely, glancing at the tree as she walked past to follow the Doctor to the front door. There was something very odd about that tree, outside of its sudden appearance in the middle of the drive, and Matilda found herself going out of her way to avoid it. She didn't like it one bit, and hoped that the Doctor would make good on her promise to get rid of it the following morning.