The old woman stared at the red lights in shock and then turned to the Doctor. “What have you done?” she hissed, “Everything I have worked for, all my life’s work, ruined by you.”

“Clara,” the Doctor said mostly to himself. He looked once again at the little girl in the glass enclosure and then looked at the old woman, “We have to go. This ship will collapse when the reactor shuts down and then there is no telling what will happen.”

“I am not leaving,” the woman looked at her daughter, “I can’t leave her behind.”

The Doctor threw the old woman against the wall and had his forearm against her throat; she stared at him in astonishment. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep V. “Look at me,” the Doctor fuddled through his pockets with his free arm and produced a large metal spoon. He held it up so that the polished steel showed a reflection of the old woman, “How long has it been since you looked at your own reflection? So many years have gone by, and so many recycled years have passed through you that it is impossible to tell what you once were. The years of so many species that you have destroyed so that your daughter could live. If you were to find a way to wake her up she would not even recognize you. You don’t even recognize yourself.”

She stared at herself in the spoon. Her eyes showed that she had not seen herself in countless years. There was nothing left of the former doctor that she had once been. “You are a Frankenstein’s Monster,” the Doctor sighed and released her, “What happens when she wakes up? What are you going to tell her? Eventually she will learn of the atrocities that you committed. How do you think that would shape her life? She would know that she was only alive at the cost of trillions of other lives. She would know that she was only alive at the cost of histories and planets. Her own mother is the greatest killer in history. How would she cope?

“It is time to let her go. It has been time to let her go for innumerable years,” the Doctor looked at the little girl in the glass case, “You cannot bring her back and even if you did, life would never be like it was. Let the life that she had be enough.”

“This is all I have,” the woman pressed a button on a panel beside the glass case and the seal broke. The case swung open and the little girl fell into her mother’s arms. She brushed hair delicately out of her daughter’s face, “My life was for her. I did it all for her. I cannot leave her here to be alone. She can never be alone.”

“You are the one that is alone, you always have been,” the Doctor crouched beside the mother and daughter, “Please, come with me.”

[}{]

“Doctor!” Clara shouted when she and the Author saw him walking down the hallway toward them, “We have to get out of here.” Then she saw the look on his face. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he nodded and his face returned to normal. His pace quickened to a jog, “Now let’s go.”

The three pressed on through the halls of the ship and toward the exit. They flew out the doors and into the ancient city. The ship behind them continually flickered between a massive building and a very alien vessel.

When they arrived on the top of the hill that overlooked the city the ship imploded, taking the rest of the city with it. The three watched as everything in the Chilean town was torn apart, and left in its wake was complete nothingness. The city was gone and it looked like there had never even been one to begin with.
“What did you find in there?” the Author asked as they turned away from the rubble and headed back to find the town where they had left the TARDIS.

“Nothing,” the Doctor said after a brief pause, “Absolutely nothing.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way. Clara and the Author looked at each other, knowing that the Doctor was lying. They had a silent conversation where they decided that it was probably best to just leave it alone.

“Shouldn’t we tell the hikers that everything is safe now?” Clara asked when they were all back inside the TARDIS, sitting around the console.

“It wouldn’t do them much good,” the Doctor shook his head, “There is nothing that we can do for them anyway. Let’s just be glad that it was only two more lives that were the cost.”

“Two more lives and a city,” the Author reminded him and the Doctor nodded absentmindedly.

“The cost of what?” Clara wondered aloud.

The Doctor looked up at her, like he was just realizing that she was there. “After the time distortion there are some repairs I need to make to the TARDIS,” the Doctor stood up and began to leave the control room before he turned back to the other two, “And no, I don’t need any help.”

“What do you think he found in there?” the Author asked as soon as he was sure that the Doctor was out of earshot.

“I don’t know, but I’ve never seen him like this,” Clara answered shaking her head, “It couldn’t have been good.”

The Author nodded and the two fell silent again. “We were talking about you being called the Author,” Clara finally spoke up, “Before we found the reactor room. I asked you to give me an example of how you made things more interesting.”

“Right,” the Author replied but didn’t say anything more. He tapped his foot and fiddled with his thumbs, looking very uncomfortable, for almost a minute before he started talking again, “If the Doctor found out I probably wouldn’t be able to travel with you anymore.” He looked at the exit that the Doctor had gone through to check if he was still around.

“Why, what did you do?” Clara pushed.

“I’ve done a lot of things,” the Author shook his head, “The Doctor would probably think that I was trying to ruin his life, but I wasn’t. Everything I did, I did for his benefit; though he probably wouldn’t see it that way.”

“So…?” Clara raised her eyebrows at the Author.

“You remember why the Doctor called you the impossible girl, right?” the Author asked and Clara nodded, “Do you remember when he met you for the first time? You were working as a governess and the snow was animating itself into becoming snowmen. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember it,” Clara answered, “Why?”

“What was he like then?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t really very happy. He was kind of bitter and he wanted everyone to leave him alone,” Clara replied, “He just wanted to be alone.”

“Yes,” the Author nodded, “Did he ever tell you why?”

“Vastra said he suffered losses which hurt him,” Clara shrugged.

“Yes, two in particular,” the Author nodded again, “Before you, the Doctor had two companions he was particularly fond of: Rory Williams and even more so, the girl who waited, Amelia Pond. She was the first face he saw after regenerating. He met her when she was a little girl but circumstances ended up forcing him not to see her again until she was much older. She became that regeneration’s first companion.

“Later Rory, Amy’s husband, joined as another companion. The three were good together, very good. When the Doctor’s late wife River Song became a regular occurrence they were even better.” The Author looked away from Clara and back at the hallway that the Doctor had gone through. “But things changed. Eventually they got too comfortable together. The Doctor began to make mistakes, dangerous mistakes.

“It all culminated in Manhattan when Rory was taken by a Weeping Angel and the Doctor and Amy were forced to try and save him. Too many mistakes were made trying to save Rory. Too many for me to protect the Doctor from all of them, so I knew it was time to make a change.

“When they all eventually escaped I knew that I had to make my move. I captured a Weeping Angel and I released it in the graveyard where the TARDIS was. It made a wonderful story, but it was also heartbreaking at the same time. It took Amy and Rory. I had not anticipated how deeply it would wound him but somehow by some random amazing chance, you came along.”

“You killed them?” Clara swallowed hard and the Author looked at her, startled.

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” the Author said after a very long time, “Many of them were not in as many moral grey areas as Amy and Rory were. I am not a good man Clara.”

“We can’t tell the Doctor,” Clara finally decided and looked at the Author, “Can we?”

“That’s up to you,” the Author looked her in the eyes, “Can you still trust me?”

“I don’t know,” Clara shook her head and then looked back at the Author, “After what we’ve gone through together, I can’t make the connection.”

“Some of the world’s greatest killers seemed like good people,” the Author was emotionless and somber for one of the few times since Clara had met him.

“You’re not helping,” Clara sighed and stared down at her feet, “I think you’ve changed. I see how much the Doctor has changed since I first met him. I think your heart is in the right place.”

“Hearts,” the Author corrected her with a smile.

“Alright, repairs are all done,” the Doctor returned to the control room a few minutes later and began to throw levers with all the joviality he had always had, “Let’s head back to England so I can drop you off Clara.”

The Author stood up and began to help the Doctor pilot the TARDIS and they were gone again.

[}{]

“Goodbye Clara, it was nice meeting you,” the Author pulled her into a hug and she laughed this time.

“It was nice meeting you too,” Clara turned around and pulled open the door, “When will you be back?”

“A day, two weeks, a month?” the Doctor shrugged, “I’ll be back at some point.”

Clara shook her head and smiled. She folded her arms and began to walk away from the blue police box. The Author watched her go. “Are you just going to stand there all day?” the Doctor called, “You’re wasting time.” The Author took one final look at Clara, smiled, and closed the door.