"Where am I?"

A terror-filled wail, echoing through the twisted labyrinth of the Dalek asylum.

"I don't know where I am!"

A heartbroken whimper, heard only by himself, in the depths of his own time stream.

Clara blinked in the bright sunlight that shone in through the windows. She glanced in confusion at the beautifully appointed Victorian room she occupied, and the soft, lace-trimmed cotton nightdress she was wearing. She wondered for a moment just what had woken her, then felt another bone crushing tug on her hand.

The Doctor was sprawled in a chair pulled close against her bedside, obviously in the grip of a nightmare. Perspiration dotted his face and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. The hand that was wrapped around her own convulsed periodically with ferocious strength.

"Doctor! Wake up - you're dreaming!" She rolled on her side, reaching out to shake his shoulder with her free hand. "Come on, it's just a bad dream, you need to wake up now. Doctor, please - you're hurting me!"

At that, his eyes snapped open. "Clara!"

"I'm here," she said simply.

The Doctor looked down at their hands, and promptly loosened his grip, flushing with shame as he saw how swollen and red her fingers were. "Clara, I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive. You were having one hell of a nightmare. Want to talk about it?"

He scrubbed his hands over his face, surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. "You were lost, all alone in the darkness, crying out to me to save you…and I couldn't find you…"

"I'm right here," she assured him. Clara sat up against the headboard of her bed, and patted the space beside her. "C'mere."

The Doctor sat down beside her, and Clara slipped into his arms, or he slipped into hers - neither was sure which, and really, did it matter? He buried his face against the pulse point of her neck, needing to feel the steady, strong beating of her heart. "You're safe," he whispered.

"And so are you. And we're together," Clara murmured soothingly, resting her cheek on top of his head and stroking her fingers through his unruly mop of hair. "But Doctor…I need to know…where are we? When are we? And…which me is this?" Her voice trembled a bit on the last question, and instantly their roles were reversed.

He sat up and cradled her face in his palm. "Clara, I'm sorry…again…I should have realized this would be disorienting, but we needed a place to rest, and I wanted to have access to Strax's medical equipment and data. We're in Vastra's house, London, 1893. And you…well, you're you. Really, really you."

"How'd you know?"

"Here." He gently took her hands and held them out in front of her. "Your jewelry. See? It's what you had on when I picked you up at the Maitland's, April 10, 2013."

"You're sure?"

"Clara, I haven't let go of you since I found you in my time stream."

Clara blushed, and an incredibly soft smile graced her lips for a moment. And then her forehead crinkled in suspicion. "How'd you fly the TARDIS?"

"I, er...well…she can be remarkably cooperative when she wants to!"

Jenny laughed merrily as she entered with a tea tray. "What he means to say, Miss, is that he told me and Madame what buttons to push! Wouldn't let go of you for the entire trip."

Clara's expression softened for a moment, then she frowned, plucking at the sleeve of her nightgown. "Doctor. This isn'twhat I was wearing earlier today."

He blushed furiously and began to splutter incoherently.

Jenny smirked. "It's all right, Miss. I changed your clothes for you. Made him wait out in the hall like a right proper gentleman."

"So you did let go of me!"

"For five minutes, Clara! Five minutes, and we were safe, and it was hardly appropriate -"

Jenny managed to stifle her giggles enough to form a coherent sentence. "Clara. I weren't gonna let nothing happen to you. You saved me, too, remember?"

"Right then," the Doctor said briskly, obviously eager to change the topic of conversation. "What have you got on that very interesting tray?"

"Tea, and some proper breakfast, but I thought you might fancy this, Miss," Jenny answered, passing Clara a thick slice of chocolate cake.