Time heals, it always does. Wasn't that what he had said to her? He couldn't be sure. He remembered the words but not her reaction to them. Not her face, not her reply. Had he convinced her or had she sensed the lie? Time doesn't always heal.

She hadn't been convinced, he concluded. If she had she'd still be here.

Time wouldn't have healed if they had stayed together. Time would have unwound. So they'd parted, and the universe hadn't torn to pieces, they'd gone their separate ways. And Time didn't need to heal after all.

But he did. And maybe so did she.

It didn't seem to be working. How many times had he been through something similar? A companion gone, a period of grief, of change and then the next challenge accepted. But he was stuck, he felt stuck, just like he was stuck on earth after she had deposited him in the desert. Just like the barriers in his memory which hid her from view.

He couldn't stop thinking. He couldn't remember her but he couldn't stop trying either. Piecing together clues from the gaps in his head and pairing them with what he found in the world. Slowly, slowly, a little more revealed each day, another hint at who she was. He went about his business, regained some form of routine, but ever had one eye trained on her.

He found her in the desert. After weeks of hitching lifts and busking. After weeks of searching. He couldn't find his TARDIS and afterwards he wondered if it was deliberate. If she had held off reuniting him with it so that he would have time to think. So that he wouldn't rush after her. She was Clever like that.

And then there she was, his actual oasis, but she vanished before he even realised.

She was the Girl in the Diner, he was certain. There were too many signs pointing to her. The moving-vanishing building, the sound of TARDIS engines all around him. How many young women had a TARDIS to their name? He was the only person to have successfully stolen one… no two… And how many human girls would have listened so long to a curious alien tale of space travel and time lords with complete acceptance? With rapt attention? With the slightest hint of sadness?

And then of course there was her face.

The face that matched the mural, a tribute to the dead etched onto his ship. Who else would the TARDIS allow a portrait of to be painted on her wood? Who else would she mourn with him?

He expected the pieces to fall together then. A triumphant eureka moment so he stood and stared and waited. Surely having made the link, having seen it must be her, the neural block would crumble at the pressing memories within him and it would all rush back? He braced himself for the flood of emotion that would surely come, for the echoes of the pain he had felt trapped in his own confession dial. He knew he had mourned, grieved for eternity then, he could see himself in his memory standing before a portrait of a faceless woman. Now he imagined her face from the TARDIS door in that frame and remembered that it hurt to look at her.

But he couldn't remember what it felt like. And the neural block stayed put.

He frowned and pushed his way into his ship. Took in the blackboard with its message and wondered why it looked wrong. He changed his clothing, cleaned himself up, made himself look like the Doctor again and tried to think what to do. He scanned the console room for any clues and flicked through his journals, read descriptions of their time together and looked at sketches he had made. He smiled at the stories and then held his breath hoping for something more, hoping for something he recalled rather than read but there was nothing. Just stories on the page.

There was just nothing there.

He made his way to the console and typed in familiar co-ordinates. He was no good at being alone, it ended badly, he knew himself well enough to seek company while he struggled with this neural block. He wanted to feel, he wanted to fix it, but he was afraid. He should go somewhere peaceful and welcoming and somewhere where someone in particular might be able to help. And then maybe later, maybe later it would all fall into place.

Maybe Time would heal.

XXXXXXXXX

'Where's the boy?'

'For the last time Strax she's a girl,' Jenny hissed at him, 'And she isn't here.'

'But he usually accompanies the Doctor on this sort of social trip,' the confused Sontarian turned slightly to question her and then rotated back to peer through the heavy glass doors to the conservatory. Beyond them the Doctor sat with his back to them while he and Madame Vastra spoke in low tones and with little animation.

'She does, yes…. but she couldn't this time,' Jenny's voice sounded sad, 'I got the impression from the Doctor that she can't be with him right now, he didn't say much.'

'Can't be with him? That's ridiculous!'

'Will you keep your voice down! Ma'am will hear you.'

A frustrated huff before he began whispering dramatically. 'I fail to see why Miss Clara can't travel with the Doctor as usual. What could possibly be more interesting to do than time travel?'

'I don't think it's like that,' she admonished, 'I don't think she just found something better to do. She's never just leave him in the lurch.' She frowned at the Doctor's slumped posture. 'Look at him, he don't look right.' Strax followed her line of sight but remained confused.

'How doesn't he look right?'

'He looks… I don't know… like part of him is missing?'

'Well…' Strax started hesitantly. Jenny rounded on him, 'What did you do?'

'I took the liberty of scanning the Doctor on his arrival.'

'What?' Jenny raised her eyebrows.

'Well, he could be harbouring any sort of parasite from any part of the universe, one cannot be too careful, it is important to screen for such infections, fungal, parasitic….'

'He ain't got no infection!'

'No as it turns out he doesn't. But you cannot be too careful.'

Jenny rolled her eyes. 'So now you've scanned him what did you notice?'

'I can confirm that there is nothing missing,' Strax said.

'Oh… well that's a good thing but you really should go poking around like that its rude. We've spoken about this.'

'Yes, Miss Jenny.'

There was a pause while they watched the Doctor continue his conversation with Vastra.

'So?' Jenny prompted when it was clear there was more to be said.

'Something is wrong,' Strax said quietly, 'In his brain…I couldn't assess properly, not enough detail but…'

'But what?' Jenny glanced at him, worried.

'But I think he might need our help. Or Madame's to be more specific.'

XXXXXXXXXX

He could see she was unconvinced. The Doctor passed his hands over his face and looked pleadingly at Vastra whose only initial response was to sip at her tea coolly.

'You're asking too much,' she said eventually, 'From all that you've told me this is the wrong thing to do.'

'Vas…'

She replaced her cup on the little table between them and held up one gloved hand for silence. 'No, Doctor. You both agreed to the neural block when you were on Gallifrey. For you to do that things must have been very dire indeed. You saw it as your only option, to sacrifice memories, to render your pasts into stories, one doesn't just do that and then reverse it.'

'Maybe I was too rash? Maybe now there's been some time passed…'

'Some time? It has barely been a few weeks from what you say? Weeks? What are weeks to a Time Lord? And you think enough time has passed for you to be able to cope with the reality of your feelings for her? For that to be fresh in your hearts? No, Doctor you would be putting everything at risk again. I cannot help you undo this block.'

'I could go elsewhere, there are other psychics, other telepaths who could help me to do this…'

'And yet you come to me, why is that Doctor?' Vastra cocked her head at him and saw his gaze drop to the ground. 'You come to me because you need a moral compass. Any other telepath, any stranger wouldn't care, but I do. You will continue to destroy yourself and the wider universe if you chose to continue on this path and I will not allow it.'

'I wouldn't seek her out…'

'Wouldn't you?'

'No, I already did, in the diner, I know she's safe, she's got a TARDIS, she's out there somewhere… no, I just want to remember… her face, her voice, her laugh. My memories Vastra, mine, they belong to me. I will never get any more time with Clara because you're right what we had to do was drastic, there's no going back. But what time I did have with her, I know it was precious, I know it was beautiful and I want to be able to experience it.'

Vastra wavered. 'The pain will be unbearable,' she said. 'It's the pain that drove you to madness on Gallifrey.'

'I was made to experience that pain over and over in the confession dial. I was never allowed to heal. With each cycle the wound was ripped open again. That's what drove me mad. I can accept what has happened now, she's alive but we can't be together. Believe me that has to be better than her death.'

Vastra looked down at her hands, 'I cannot give my blessing to this.'

'What if it were Jenny?' he said suddenly. Vastra's quick eyes snapped to his. 'What if it were Jenny, what if all those moments you spent together were lost forever, behind a wall in your mind? What if you could never see her face again even in dreams? What if you were parted and didn't even have your memories for comfort? What then Vastra? What would you want?'

Vastra glanced towards the glass doors where the shadow of Jenny's dark dress was visible. 'I couldn't bear it,' she said, 'I would do what you are doing now.'

'You see…'

'But I hope my friends would keep me from making a dreadful mistake.'

The Doctor sat back, leant tiredly on one hand and chewed on a thumbnail. 'I thought you would understand, you of all people. Jenny is your mayfly as much as Clara was mine. You ask why I chose you to help, it's not just because you are a 'moral compass' it's because I trust you, not only to do the right thing, but with my memories, with what's inside me. Can't you see how hard this is? Please,' he said, 'This isn't about finding her.'

'Not yet… but it would be if you could remember her.'

'How can you be so sure?'

Vastra looked at him with stern sympathy. 'Because Doctor I remember her, and I remember you, together and all that you were, all that you could have been. I'm surprised the universe survived this long.'

XXXXXXX

'He still out there,' Jenny said from the window, 'Just sat there. It's done it every night since he came here, all night, he never sleeps.'

'He's thinking,' a rustle from behind her as Vastra slipped under the coverlet of their bed, 'The stars sooth him.'

'It's freezing out there…'

'He doesn't feel the cold the way humans do.'

'You don't know what he feels,' Jenny said quietly. There was a pause from behind her, an indication that Vastra wanted her to go on. 'He's been out there every night since he arrived ma'am, no one needs to do that much thinking. He's cold and he's lonely and he's punishing himself. Since you told him no…'

'It was the right thing to do, Jenny…'

'Yes I know for the sake of the universe. Well what about 'im? What about what he needs? Would it really hurt so much just to remember her face?'

Vastra sighed. 'Yes, I believe it would.'

Jenny turned back to the window, pulled the curtain aside a little more to get a better view. The Doctor was sitting in the TARDIS door, his hands dangling between his knees. It was clear to her that the stars were not soothing, for his gaze was on the ground below.

'How can he be expected to let go of someone he only half remembers?' she asked quietly.

'What?'

'When I was a little girl,' Jenny started, 'there was an old lady lived on our road and she had a right bad memory. It failed her over a course of years, little things at first like where she'd put her purse. That weren't so bad. But eventually she forgot all those around her. She could look at the faces of her children and husband and not know them. It was so sad ma'am.'

'Come to bed Jenny,' Vastra said softly.

'But you want to know the saddest bit?' Jenny stood resolutely by the window. 'It was the bit in the middle. The bit where she could almost remember. Where she could look at faces and know that she knew them but didn't know who they belonged to. And you'd see her trying so hard, so hard ma'am to know who they were, to remember. It broke her heart, so much more than when she didn't know them at all.'

She turned to face her wife. 'He ain't down there thinking, he ain't down there meditating under the stars, he's down there trying to remember, and he can't, but he knows that somewhere inside he has all of those memories, he just can't reach them. He's fighting every night to try and get her back and he won't rest until he does.'

'I know.'

'So why won't you help him?' Jenny said a little shrilly. 'How can you let him sit there night after night trying to see her face?'

'Jenny…. There is more at stake here…'

'No, no there isn't, it isn't about the universe and timelines and all those things you talk of with him that I don't understand. It's about two people who shouldn't be parted like this, it's about love that he knows existed but can't feel. It's wrong!'

'Jenny you're upsetting yourself…' Vastra got up and closed the gap between them.

'Well someone has to get upset, because you ain't!' she snapped.

'Jenny,' she laid a hand on her arm but was shrugged away.

'Look at him,' Jenny commanded pointing out the window, 'Look at him and tell me this is right!'

'Jenny they chose to do this, between them, they consented, they understood it was necessary, that there was no other way.' Vastra tried to placate her but Jenny's eyes burned.

'There is always another way. If it were us we would find another way and if we couldn't I'd hope to God someone who cared enough about us could. They didn't have another option then, but they do now, if we help them…'

Jenny marched towards the chair over which she'd laid Vastra's clothes for the following morning and hoisted the heavy black dress into her arms.

'Get dressed,' she said. 'We're going downstairs.'

XXXXXXXXX

There was snow on the ground and his eyes were drawn to each flake as it landed by his feet. The dim lights of the TARDIS interior were enough to make each crystal of ice shine as they flooded past his body casting a Doctor shaped silhouette over the sparkling courtyard. Snow… snow meant something. He tugged on his hair and squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled the smell of cold winters night. What did it mean? Snow, Clara and snow?

He could barely feel his fingers he had sat there so long. His nightly ritual away from the distractions of daylight and the others at Paternoster. He would spent the hours until dawn trying to recall, trying to jog his memories, trying to break through the neural block. It was possible, he'd seen it done before, and he was hopeful that as it was originally only human compatible it had left most of his mind untouched. It was so precise with its extraction, cutting Clara's face out from each picture in his memory but leaving almost everything else, the adventures they shared, the places they went to but her part was silent. As such it presented him with the ultimate in frustration, it was a double edged sword. If he simply remembered nothing he would be totally unaware. He'd probably be cruising around a planet with a new companion by now carefree and oblivious.

But to remember nothing of Clara. Nothing of this woman whom evidence suggested he lived for utterly, that in itself would be unforgivable. And yet what memory remained made it quite clear to him that no matter how much he had loved her he had never really told her. They had never been together in that way. Was it one sided then? Was that part of the painful truth the blocker hid from him? That his adoration of her drove him mad when she didn't return his feelings?

No that didn't feel right either. Something about the Cloisters on Gallifrey. Something about that conversation he could never hear. What they felt for each other was equal, but spoken of too late. If he had his time over…

Time. A Time Lord never had enough time. It always landed too late or in the wrong order. Now he was left with a sense of his mistakes and a will to put them right, and no Clara. No time. Just this sense that she was everything and he must not forget.

He opened his eyes again and looked at the snow willing it to spark something inside. Snow. Snow. Clara.

Snow men?

No, not snow men. Or maybe?

His head ached and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his frozen digits. He could have tried to sonic the memories away on Gallifrey, a clumsy old fashioned technique of memory wipe. But no, he chose the blocker, partly at least because deep down he didn't want to destroy the memories, just hide them. Deep down he still held onto a tiny particle of hope that one day they wouldn't have to be apart. Now he had partial memory loss and the only way to break through the barriers in his head were psychic not manual. No sonic or equal device could undo the block, only his mind aided by a trusted other.

And that other wasn't willing to help.

Well he'd just have to do it alone then. Four and a half billion years he'd been a one man show. He just had to keep chipping away at it, like the twenty foot deep wall, same drill but this time in his mind.

The thought of it made his stomach sink.

There was a crunch in the snow in front of him and his eye caught a glimpse of a laced boot sinking into the powder, a dark skirt swishing over the surface.

'Doctor,' Jenny said, 'Would you be able to come inside, Madame Vastra would like to see you.' He looked up slowly.

'Oh?' he said tiredly, 'Did she say what about?'

'I think she may have reconsidered your request, sir…'

XXXXXXXXX

Vastra made the Doctor sit opposite her, two chairs drawn close together just in front of the fire. Their knees were touching and from where they sat their eyes were about level. On one side of the room Strax waited quietly in case his services were needed. This immediately put everyone on edge, as clearly a butler was not needed so it could only be assumed that his medical skills might be called on if the unblocking went wrong. Jenny hovered by her wife both proud of her for electing at last to help the Doctor, but nervous too.

'This block has been produced from very advanced technology Doctor, from an advanced species.'

'I know but you've knocked me out telepathically before… when I regenerated… you were fine… you can hold your own.' He avoided her eye and busied himself dusting down his trousers.

'My capacity is somewhat limited compared to high born Gallifreyans,' she went on, 'You were weak then, confused and unwell with regeneration sickness. This is very different. I may not have the strength to…'

'It doesn't matter,' the Doctor reassured her edgily, 'I'll do most of the work, I just need you to…. ' he sought the right description for the telepathic moves, 'Push me through? Add to the mix? I can get so far but then I run out of steam, the block pushes back, I need you to help me break it down. You'll see when we start… I've got so close to it… I just need a little extra…'

Vastra swallowed and bit slightly at her lip. She was not one to be anxious but the full brunt of a Time Lord's mind was something she had never experienced and for good reason, especially in these sorts of circumstances. This was not straight forward telepathy. These were trapped memories, trapped and volatile, painful, desperate, seeking release from behind an artificial block. This was grief and love in a mind that had been tortured for billions of years. The experience would be quite different from when she sent him over to sleep and although he was her friend, although he needed this, she had the right to be afraid. She glanced at Jenny who nodded encouragingly though her own nerves were obvious. Vastra took a breath, moved to address the Doctor, caught his eye.

'Please,' he said before she could raise more concerns, 'I would do this for you.' And she knew it to be true. She nodded, raised both hands and placed them on his temples, felt him do the same and closed her eyes.

It was different to any telepathic experience she had had before. Vastra was drawn quickly, almost instantly into the space which represented the Doctor's mind. For every telepath this was different. What she saw around her now was a garden, peaceful at first glance, caught during a winter sunset with fallen snow against pinkish light and the softness that snowfall gives to sound. There were borders where flowers would grow if that snow ever melted and early buds waiting on trees. It was cold but not bitter and she could see animals beneath the hedges and in the trees. Vastra began to walk down a central path, squinting into the sun, following footprints already ahead of her, and as the sun fell further she saw a wall ahead, stretched endlessly left to right, and high, so much higher than she first thought when she approached it.

When she grew close the darkness had almost completely fallen and the air was colder. She reached out and placed cautious fingertips on the pale stone only to recoil suddenly, the freezing surface jolting her. Carefully she leaned forward again to look at the brickwork, only then realising that it was not stone but ice.

'Neural block,' she muttered in the parlour of Paternoster as much as in the Doctor's mind. 'What now?'

'Now we try and break through,' she glanced round and found him beside her, he gave her a half smile and raised his arms. 'I'll show you what's been working best…'

He had clearly been practicing, the speed at which he mustered the flames gave him away. She wondered how often he tried alone to do this, how many different ways and how often he had failed. She felt a new determination. He would never stop, she felt that, he would spend eternity in this garden if he had to. She had to help or he would be trapped forever, tormenting himself.

She focused and Vastra could see the fire spring up at the foot of the thick ice of the neural block, burning hard, melting fast, the water beginning to pour down and threaten to dampen the flames. Instinctively Vastra raised her own arms and added what she could to blaze, the flames reaching momentarily higher and licking over the top of the wall. She felt a charge of excitement at the scene, at the hiss and crackle of their combined psychic ability. They could do this, it seemed possible.

And then suddenly she staggered backward. She could hear the Doctor calling to her to hold on just another moment, they were almost there. But the fire she controlled was failing and in her throat she felt like drowning. The darkness closed in and the water poured harder and as it struck the ground it froze solid again. Coughing, gasping she felt herself fall, her body tipping sideways as though struck hard by an unseen force. She could hear Jenny, frantic, and Strax, their voices close by, but it was another voice that drew her in those last moment of consciousness, it's tone pleading, desperate and lonely.

'Doctor! Please…. Don't leave me here… Come back! …don't forget me….'

'Clara!' Vastra screamed.

XXXXXXXXXX

'I'm sorry,' Vastra said simply. She was seated now on the couch by the fire, Jenny close to her, her face pale. It had taken a number of minutes for her to come round even with Strax's attention.

'It's me who should be sorry,' the Doctor said quietly, 'This is exactly why Clara and I had to part. The lengths I will go to. I had no idea it was still driving me like this. I really thought I just wanted the memories, that there could be no harm in that but I never should have risked it, it was wrong of me…'

'You didn't know that would happen,' Vastra said.

'No,' he admitted, 'But I should have taken the time to analyse. I should have weighed it up. Gallifreyan neural blocks don't mix well with other species unless they've been adapted. When Clara sonicked the device we don't know fully what she did to it. It could have been fatal for you for all I knew.'

'I did this willingly,' Vastra said.

'Not entirely,' Jenny commented guiltily. Vastra patted her hand.

'Willingly after listening to sage counsel, my love,' she stated.

'What will happen now?' Strax queried from the corner of the room. The Doctor stared into the fire wearily.

'I don't know,' he admitted, 'Perhaps this demonstrates to me I should leave the whole thing well alone. That the danger really is there and it really is great. It may not end up destroying all of time itself but it could end up hurting my friends…. And Clara would never want that….'

'I heard her voice,' Vastra said, 'near the end.'

The Doctor looked at her curiously, 'Her voice, in my mind?'

'Yes,'

'I can't remember her voice at will… The memories must have been about to break through,' he said, 'We were almost there,' he smiled sadly. 'I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing now… What did she say?'

Vastra hesitated, torn between telling the truth and protecting the Doctor from further heartache. She watched as the hopeful light danced in his eyes and he hung on her words.

'I… don't recall exactly….' She said, 'It was muffled, I was fading…. But it was her.'

She watched him press his lips together. 'It's late, ' he said, 'You all need to rest… and I have thinking to do. Thank you for…'

The TARDIS cloister bell rang out suddenly across the courtyard and with it each foundation shuddered. The Doctor was up and out of the door followed by the women and Strax; the Sontarian bursting out into the night and sliding to a halt by the time machine, braced for any action required.

'What is it?!' Jenny yelped, her hands over her ears to try to muffle the ringing.

'The TARDIS, she's trying to warn us of something…' he darted to the blue doors as though to make inside and investigate but at that moment a howling tearing sound shot over their heads in a stream of brilliant colour and fire. Embers and flaming debris rained down over the little group and they were forced to shield their eyes from the intense light and heat. Whatever was above them was closing in fast, it took less than seconds to reach ground level and with a crushing noise slammed hard into the stables shattering glass and metal everywhere. The fire burned hotly around the base of the enormous object and splintering noises could be heard from within.

'What on earth is that?' Jenny asked urgently, her eyes wide.

'Perhaps it's a ship?' Strax suggested, 'There could be casualties!' and he scuttled forward to investigate.

'Careful Strax, we don't know what's going on…. Doctor?' Vastra looked towards him for guidance but was struck by his posture, leaning half up against the TARDIS door, grasping onto the side with one hand, his face drained of all colour. 'Doctor!' she insisted, 'What is that thing?'

He was frozen to the spot, the flames bright in his eyes. 'It's a diner,' he said flatly, 'A futuristic restaurant,' he waved his hand, stumbling to describe it inadequately, 'It serves lemonade… I've seen it before…we… Oh God...'

'What?'

'It's hers…..' he fell quiet.

'Whose?' Jenny asked, but Vastra caught her eye and gave a sharp shake of the head to silence her. Jenny's eyes widened further.

'Clara? You mean that thing is a time machine like the Doctor's? ' she asked and Vastra nodded. Jenny's horrified gaze turned back to the wrecked and burning building now lodged in the structure of their coachhouse.

'A little help here!' Strax called from the burning TARDIS, 'There's someone on board!'