Doctor Who Fan Fiction - The Greatest Fear

Warning: This story is psychologically scary and may be unsuitable for children or those with a nervous disposition. This is not an official story affiliated with Doctor Who, this is just a story I have written based on the characters as I enjoy the TV programme so much.
Hope you enjoy this piece of fan fiction.

The thrum of the TARDIS filled the vast expanse of the huge hall where it now resided and the door swung cheerily open and the Doctor’s head popped curiously out of the space to examine his surroundings. He took one look around, swizzled his sonic screwdriver around in the air and took a look at the readings before striding confidently into the room.

“Yes, yes. This is the place. Aah but where?” he asked himself.

“Have you turned up somewhere by accident again?” scolded Clara with a smile, exiting the TARDIS too “Thank goodness no one is trying to challenge us to a duel this time!”

“Ah, I meant that to happen” said the Doctor with a cheeky grin “Always keep the element of surprise for special occasions”

“Yes well nevertheless, I had to promise to marry the guy just to get him to take his foot off your back as he held you down!”

“And you would have made a beautiful spring bride” laughed the Doctor “Now come on, we have a signal to seek out”

Clara looked around the room as the Doctor fiddled with his screwdriver, reaching into the TARDIS to collect something he had forgotten. The corridors had green and blue paint peeling freely from the walls and the faint smell of mould hung in the air. The large room they were in had an enormous glass skylight, with stained glass casting a rainbow over the light grey floor. Battered signs dangled from the walls indicating to Clara exactly what sort of location she was currently in.

“Are we in a psychiatric unit?”

“Looks like it yes”

“You do know how to show a girl a good time don’t you Doctor? Doctor?”

Clara turned to see the Doctor striding down the corridor, pulling on a white coat, his sonic screwdriver aloft as he muttered to himself. Clara followed him in hot pursuit, the heels of her ankle boots clicking merrily down the echoing halls.

“Where are we going?” asked Clara impatiently.

“Someone needs a Doctor!” the Doctor declared, spinning around as he walked to show Clara his psychic paper.

“Psychiatrist? Really?” She said incredulously glancing at the paper and chuckling slightly.

“I’ll have you know I’m very good with matters of the mind. Especially broken minds, I do that rather well. Takes one to know one you know!” He grinned maniacally and his blue eyes glinted mischievously.

“Great” mumbled Clara, following the Doctor down the long white and pale green corridor “This is not going to end well is it?” a janitor clothed in pale green scrubs was slowly mopping the floor, his huge frame hunched over and his snow white hair glinting in the sunlight that was shed through the window. He wore a pair of old fashioned headphones attached to a cassette player on his belt. He nodded dully as Clara and the Doctor passed.

“That guy’s headphones and cassette player; old fashioned, 1980s. Are we in the 80s? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did, I told you to wear that ensemble” remarked the Doctor “To fit in in the 1980s”

“No, you didn’t” retorted Clara “Are you saying my fashion sense is old fashioned? I’ll have you know this is very ‘in’ at the moment!” she placed her hands on her hips crossly.

“Yes, it is. At the moment” said the Doctor kindly and then continued on down the corridor, a complaining Clara dashing after him.

“It’s not like your fashion sense is any good either y’know” she sulked.

Finally they came to a shabby looking reception desk in a vast hall just like the hall they had recently vacated.

“Shop!” yelled the Doctor in the huge expanse and his hand slammed hard on the tarnished gold bell on the desk. Despite looking innocuous, the bell rang out loudly and the Doctor tried desperately to silence it as Clara grinned.

“Can’t take you anywhere” she said, rolling her eyes. In what seemed like no time at all, a rotund gentleman in a white doctor’s coat bustled through a door in the back of the hall.

“I take it you are Dr Smith?” said the red faced man, taking the Doctors hand and pumping it up and down briskly, he adjusted his glasses and looked at the psychic paper presented to him.

“I am indeed Dr...”

“Dr Thomson” he replied “We heard you were coming. We’re so glad you’re here Doctor, we really don’t know what else to do!” he took out a voluminous handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his face and brow “we are moving, the whole hospital to a newer, more advanced facility but ‘she’ is the only patient we can’t move. We have no idea what else to do...it is really a mystery”

“A mystery! You hear that Nurse Clara” winked the Doctor, nudging Clara to play along “We like a good mystery. I’m sure that you were going to tell me this but; why can’t this patient be moved?”

A dark cloud seemed to pass over Dr Thomson’s face and he moved closer, talking in lower volume as if someone might hear even though there was no one else present.

“We can’t move ‘her’. Everyone who sees ‘her’...well, things don’t end well for them”

“Really? In what way?” 

“Erm...some clinicians have been admitted to the psychiatric unit shortly after, claiming they have done terrible things for which there is no evidence. For example, Doctor Wiseman – a skilled psychiatrist, well versed in the maladies of the human mind saw...’her’...for a consult and the next day he was found curled up in a ball in the on call room claiming that he had killed his wife”

“And had he?” Dr Thomson shook his head vehemently

“Not at all, she is still very much alive and kicking. Mrs Wiseman comes to visit him but he still claims that he took her life. Other doctors who saw...the patient...ended up committing suicide or simply disappearing. It’s a terrible business”

The Doctor looked puzzled and Clara sensed that for all his bluster, he was growing increasingly nervous about this patient.

“Is she human?” blurted Clara, unable to stop herself, curiosity winning out. Based on the various aliens and odd humans she had met on her journeys with the Doctor, including watching the regeneration of her friend; she was prepared to face pretty much anything. Dr Thomson looked at her in amazement.

“Why of course dear!” he laughed, a little nervously “Why ever would you think otherwise?”

“No reason” said Clara quietly “What I should have said is, has ‘she’ had any tests? Blood tests? Scans?”

“Good question Nurse Clara” said the Doctor, smiling at her for filling her role “What tests has ‘she’ had? Also, does ‘she’ have a name? I so hate having to refer to someone with pronouns”

Dr Thomson, fiddled with his faded brown tie and examined the egg stains with deep concentration, avoiding the questions. In the distance, behind a glass window at the far end of the hall a fierce looking nurse stood, surveying the proceedings.

"Her name is...Miranda, that's all we know" he whispered finally, looking right and left "We found her at the door of the hospital one night, terrible injuries to her body and her mind completely shattered, she would barely say a word. We got her name from her and admitted her but we have no real idea who she is and with no solid medical records for her so we just had to do our best"

"And I'm sure you have Dr Thomson. Well then!" The Doctor clapped his hands and rubbed them briskly "Shall we go and see her?" Dr Thomson suddenly grabbed the Doctor's arm and his whispered tones were filled with dread.

"Please be careful, you too miss" he indicated to Clara "Perhaps you should remain outside Nurse?"

"Are you saying that because I'm a girl? Is he saying that because I'm a girl???" Said Clara, offended by the idea that she might not be able to cope with whatever lay behind those doors "I've seen things that would make your hair curl mate! Oh, sorry, you know what I mean" finished Clara, gazing at Dr Thomson's balding pate.

"Nurse Clara will be just fine, she'll be assisting me in my examination" Dr Thomson shrugged helplessly and beckoned them to a long corridor with a large forbidding metal door at the end.

"She's in that room there, 101. It goes without saying, don't let her out"

"Oh, how deliciously Orwellian!" Exclaimed the Doctor "I met him once, had a drink with him, terribly morose chap with lots of scary ideas. He couldn't half play cards though!" The Doctor laughed riotously then, realising that he was the only one party to the joke he straightened his tie and let his giggle die away in the echoing corridor "Yes, well" he eyed Dr Thomson's and Clara's faces that showed a mixture of confusion and impatience respectively "Shall we?" He motioned to Clara who took the file and the keys that were clutched in Dr Thomson's hand and they made to set off down the corridor when Dr Thomson gripped the Doctor's arm again, tighter this time.

"Be careful" he said hoarsely "she can smell your fear" his large watery green eyes were awash with terror "she can even sense it here" the Doctor placed his hand on Dr Thomson's arm reassuringly, prising the Dr's fingers from his arm gently with his other hand and he said softly:

"Please don't worry Dr, we'll be OK" Dr Thomson nodded in defeat, turned on his heel and scurried away quickly through the door from which he came. The nurse at the window stared angrily at the Doctor for a moment and then was gone.

"You take me some places!" Said Clara sarcastically "are we going to be safe from this girl? Is she really human? What do you think is wrong with her?"

"Oh, I don't think there is something wrong, I think that what is happening to her is normal, to someone anyway" and with that he held out his hand "come on, don't be scared, I'll keep you safe"

"Like every other time" Clara muttered under her breath as she took the Doctor's hand and they crept down the corridor. This corridor was even more battered by the ravages of time; paint stripped bare, leaving long scars on the plaster and the flooring was well trodden and dirty. Autumn leaves littered the floor and Clara looked around for a source of the foliage but all that surrounded them were closed offices and treatment rooms. Clearly the janitor was equally as scared if he hadn’t managed to sweep this area.

The huge grey metal door was upon them before long and there was a large panel for viewing the patient so the Doctor took the opportunity to look before he leapt, for once. He pulled at the thick bolt holding the panel shut and it fell open with a crash making Clara yelp in fear but the Doctor held his finger to his lips and pointed to the room. 

Room 101 was tiled all around in grimy white tiles and a plush cream coloured carpet peppered with spots of blood, a single frosted glass skylight allowed the only daylight in the room. In the corner of the room, between the bed and the toilet sat a girl of a similar age to Clara, curled into a ball with her dirty long blonde hair virtually covering her face except for one curious chocolate brown eye peering out from beyond. 

"Miranda?" Said the Doctor carefully "we're just going to come in for a chat dear? I'm the Doctor, this lovely nurse with me is Clara, we're coming in now" without further ado he slammed the panel closed and turned the chunky key in the stiff lock. The door slid open and the Doctor guided Clara carefully inside, closing the door firmly behind him and locking it, pocketing the key.

Miranda was desperately thin with a terrifyingly haunted look. Her deep brown eyes and blonde hair reminded the Doctor of someone that he used to know and he shrugged off the memory as quickly as it surfaced. He squatted down in front of the cowering girl and adapted a soothing tone to his voice.

"Hello Miranda" he smiled softly "I've come a long way to talk to you, did you send a signal for me?" Clara sat on the bed and smoothed her crimson skirt, she bent to look at Miranda. The girl was clothed in a hospital gown and although there was a definite chill in the room, she didn't appear to be suffering any ill effects of the cold. Her feet were bare and her bony arms were clasped desperately around her slim legs. Only one eye could be seen through her bedraggled hair and the pupil was dilated almost to the point that her iris could barely be seen. Miranda looked terrified.

"Did he send you?" Said Miranda quietly, a tremor in her voice "I can't bear it anymore, you need to stop it!"

The Doctor studied her, what he could see of her. Miranda was trembling, not from the cold but from some unseen fear.

"Did who send me Miranda? What are you frightened of?"

"If you knew, you'd be scared too" said Miranda in a whisper, her eyes moving side to side, up and down, scanning the room for an escape or for some terrifying predator "the pain, the fear, it's too much!" She sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Pain and fear from where Miranda?" Coaxed the Doctor gently. When Miranda continued to sob as if her heart were breaking, her cries echoed around the room, the Doctor looked at Clara who opened the file Dr Thomson had given them.

"It says here you have an anxiety disorder Miranda" Clara said, trying to keep her voice calm and even "have you had it a long time? Where did you come from?"

Before Clara could read any further, Miranda's hand shot out from nowhere and clasped tightly around Clara's arm, in a demented fervour she looked deep into Clara's eyes.

"He'll come for you, he wants your fear, your greatest fears, and he’ll have them as an appetiser before the torture begins!!!" Miranda shrieked loudly and Clara started to feel adrenaline surging around her body while horrifying thoughts rampaged around her head. Miranda dropped her vice like grip and let Clara slump onto the bed, paralysed with fear, a look of blood curling horror on her face. Clara screamed, a scream of blind terror and she clutched at her head, writhing in mental agony. The Doctor jumped to his feet, moving to Clara's side. Miranda had crumpled to the floor, motionless with her eyes staring glassily at the skylight, her arms spread wide where the Doctor could see a multitude of cuts and slashes but there wasn't time to tend to her as Clara continued to scream. 

Clara's screams were some of the worst he had ever heard. She curled into a ball similar to the position in which they had come across Miranda and tears ebbed down her cheeks, turning them from the usual pink to a grey ashen complexion. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned Clara, he scowled at the readings then looked horrified. 

"No, no no no no!" He yelled and wrapping sheets from the bed around Clara without touching her, he bundled her into his arms, fumbling for the key as he tried to carry the shrieking, wriggling Clara. As he turned, Miranda was kneeling on the floor, spider like, her deep brown eyes staring unblinkingly at the Doctor.

"He'll come for her too" she said, fear lacing her voice "if she lives long enough, he will take and keep on taking, he wants your fear. I’m sorry, I’m sorry"

The Doctor finally managed to clumsily wrench open the door and he slammed it shut, locking it firmly behind him as Clara continued to struggle and yelp in her cocoon. He ran quickly through the various corridors, desperately trying to locate the TARDIS in his panic. His boots skidded on the over polished floor and he slid violently around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief as the TARDIS was in view, thrumming in concern. Sensing the urgency, the door swung open and the Doctor almost threw himself inside gratefully.

"Thanks old girl" he said absentmindedly and he deposited Clara carefully on the floor of the TARDIS near the control panel. He rooted around for an odd helmet like device and he eased her into a sitting position, touching only the blankets. Clara's brown eyes were awash with tears and she bit her lip in fear.

"I didn't mean to hurt her!" She cried, holding her head and rocking gently "I didn't mean it!"

The Doctor fitted the helmet onto Clara’s head, despite his careful motions his wrist brushed Clara’s face and suddenly his head was filled with horrific thoughts. He was transformed to a molten landscape and could see a million fires scorching the earth. The faces of Time Lords long past contorted in agony and torment, as the stalks of Daleks melted slowly into the firey hell. This was the death of the Time Lords, the demise of the Daleks. The Doctor suddenly was back in the TARDIS with a sobbing Clara. He shook his head to dismiss the terrible vision but he was aware of the fear maybe returning. He gingerly placed the helmet on Clara’s head and jumped back as she was encased in a forcefield. Her pupils were dilated, swollen in terror and she continued to cry and scream. 

“I’m sorry Clara, it’s just for a little while, I promise” 

Suddenly, the bubble that encased Clara was filled with a gas and she looked petrified before slumping quietly to the floor unconscious. The Doctor put his hands onto the forcefield and gazed sadly at his sleeping friend.

“I never wanted to do that but you left me no choice” said the Doctor, not addressing Clara but some unseen force “What are you? Think, think!” he spun on his heel striding around and around the TARDIS console before coming to an abrupt halt “Ah-ha!” he yelled, a little too triumphantly “I know who you are and I know what you want. Well matey, you’re not gettin’ it!”

The Doctor tapped at his TARDIS console and pulled various levers until a scanner appeared on a screen. The Doctor spun around, pointing the scanner at the sleeping form of Clara. Her heat signature was furiously hot and a small dark creature was now residing in her back.

“Gotcha!” yelled the Doctor then he murmured quietly “Fear-owns. I should have known!”

Clara stirred a little; a soft moan came from her mouth and with it, a tiny amount of red gas.

“Mum, mum” she moaned, more red gas in the bubble “I didn’t mean it. The blood, I can see the blood” groggily Clara raised her hands, it was clear that she could see blood but the Doctor knew there was nothing there.

“Stay exactly where you are” said the Doctor, his hands reassuringly stroking the bubble “I’ll be back with help” he addressed the TARDIS “Look after her, back in a mo!”

The Doctor pounded down the long corridors until he reached the reception again. He rang the golden bell over and over until Dr. Thomson hurriedly came out of the office, a look of panic on his face.

“What happened? What did you do?” he screeched “I knew that more visitors would mean trouble! Where is Nurse Clara???”

“I’ll answer all of those questions in a sec but first, I might need a consult on a new patient. Care to join me?” without waiting for an answer he grasped Dr Thomson’s arm and pulled him down the corridor the way he came, almost colliding with the janitor on the way still slowly cleaning the hall.

When they reached the TARDIS, Dr. Thomson was a veritable wreck, he coughed and wheezed, sucking gratefully on his asthma inhaler.

“Dr Smith...” he gasped for breath, his face red and sweating “what is the meaning of this hullabaloo? And what is this? Modern art? I have no truck with this modern stuff!” he exclaimed, waving his hand in the direction of the TARDIS. He inhaled deeply, trying to regain his composure. 

“Yes. Yes that’s what it is. Modern art, now come on” he said hurriedly “I need your help” the Doctor opened the door and bustled a flushed Dr. Thomson inside. There was an unbroken hush the moment that the plump doctor was pushed into the TARDIS. He forgot to breathe for a second setting off a coughing fit before he finally looked around at his surroundings properly.

“But it was a box...it’s...a room. It’s bigger...” he stammered

“Yes, bigger on the inside, I get that a lot with this but there’s no time to explain. My friend Clara has been infected by a parasite that is carried around by the Fearowns. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Dr Thomson paused then shook his head in bewilderment.

“I really don’t sir” he said baffled.

“Hmm, yes, probably all a bit much to take in at once, yes?” The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to help the Dr understand quickly. He decided, possibly unwisely, to use shock tactics “Ok, there is no easy way to say this but I am an alien, a time lord, last of my kind and everything. This is my ‘spaceship’ – are you comfortable with that description?” Dr Thomson was far from comfortable but remained rooted to the spot, listening intently “Oh, I’m a time traveller too. Hence the old ‘Time Lord’ title. Anyway, long story short. Your patient, Miranda, did have an anxiety disorder, now she is being scared half to death on a regular basis by a parasite that stimulates the brain into thinking terrible thoughts, boosts the adrenaline for the Fear-own’s to harvest. That parasite has now infected my dear friend Clara, obviously I’m not happy about it but I think that the only way to help her is to show her that her mum is fine”

“Is she?”

“Well, no, she died. However, if I can show her to Clara, go back in time and show her, she’ll realise that everything is fine!”

“But if her mum is dead, surely that won’t work? Also, we tried that with other patients and to no avail” said Dr Thomson, removing his glasses and rubbing them absentmindedly on his lab coat.

“It’s worth a try!” said the Doctor frantically pressing buttons on the TARDIS console and pulling the switch before falling onto the floor, accompanied by the portly figure of Dr Thomson who was quickly considering this to be the oddest day of his career.

“Wait...did you say ‘go back in time’? What? How?”

“I did say, time traveller. Do try and keep up Doc!” chided the Doctor, leaping to his feet and tugging at what looked like a gear stick.

Clara lay unconscious in her protective bubble as the TARDIS suffered some major turbulence causing the Doctor to leap around frantically pressing buttons and pulling levers as a dazed Dr Thomson looked on. He clung to the rails around the TARDIS console, taking in this alien technology, alien in more ways than one. His finger curled around the rails, knuckles white as snow and held on for dear life until the TARDIS shuddered to a halt, flinging the Doctor halfway across the room. The TARDIS thrummed quietly and returned to standby as the Doctor jumped up and dusted his jacket and trousers and pulled Dr Thomson awkwardly to his feet.

“Now, hopefully Clara’s mum should be right outside that door” said the Doctor softly.

“Hopefully?” said Dr Thomson alarmedly.

“Oh yes, not an exact science this whole time travel thing but we should be close enough.” Dr Thomson looked confused, he wasn’t entirely sure that he believed in time travel – even as a man of science he had laughed at films portraying the jumps in time and as he looked at the Doctor who was looking for his coat he started to wonder if he had been duped by this mad man in a box.

“When I remove the bubble from around Clara” the Doctor warned “don’t touch her, don’t even hold her hand if she offers it. Even if she begs for comfort, don’t touch her, whatever you do”

He couldn’t help himself, the day had just been so baffling, Dr Thomson had to ask.

“Why?”

The Doctor stared deep into Dr Thomson’s rheumy green eyes with a look of warning. He spoke softly, urgently.

“What is your biggest fear Dr Thomson?”

“Mine?” Dr Thomson scratched his head “I suppose that I fear that my wife will get ill or die. She’s my life, Elsie”

“Imagine that you hurt her. Imagine that you hurt her in some unimaginable way. If you touch Clara, the parasite will enter your body and those thoughts will feel like reality. Those thoughts will bombard you, constantly until you produce so much adrenaline and cortisol you will be a cauldron of fear and anxiety. Then the Fear-owns will come, they will drink from you, your adrenaline is what keeps their hearts going. They will feast on you but keep you alive; the fear that you have harmed your wife will be your only thought. Torment until you can’t take anymore and die or take your own life”

“Fear-owns? What on earth are you talking about sir? What are the ‘Fear-owns’? If these things existed, we would know about them! People would be suffering all over the world!”

“Oh but they are Dr, the Fear-owns must have come to this planet many years ago. Feasting on bigger and bigger animals until they found humans to be delicious receptacles. The human body is filled with so many chemicals, you lot are the perfect prey for the Fear-owns. They are literally adrenaline junkies, their hearts run desperately slowly and they need that blast of adrenaline to keep on going so they find a human, introduce their parasite – through skin or food. The parasite has a hallucinogenic secretion that stimulates the fearful thoughts and the human spews out the chemicals for the fight or flight reaction – mainly adrenaline. Then the Fear-own comes along when no one is around and punctures the body, sucks the adrenaline right out of them. Bam!”

“Miranda” murmured Dr Thomson “Her body was covered with punctures. We thought that she was using an implement from her room to self harm”

“Aah well you see that’s where Fear-owns are good at choosing their prey; they choose someone with an anxiety disorder where they can. Ideal environment for their parasites as they don’t have to work too hard. People with anxiety issues tend to think a lot, worry a lot. Poor Clara wasn’t the perfect settling ground, she just got in the way” the Doctor looked sadly at Clara’s sleeping form “The other doctors that spoke to Miranda, they just touched her, probably trying to be sympathetic and they were affected. I’m so sorry”

Dr Thomson nodded sadly.

“Come on” the Doctor guided Dr Thomson to the door and he poked his head out of the door curiously. The TARDIS had landed in a beautiful park with lush green grass. In the distance there was a play park where children were running around happily, yelling and laughing at the top of their lungs and standing beside the fence to the enclosure was a lady, her long brown hair flowed over the shoulders of her caramel coloured jacket and as she turned the Doctor saw the unmistakable profile of Clara’s mum. She was smiling benevolently at the children in the play park.

Dr Thomson was stunned, surely this was some trickery. When he was inside the TARDIS maybe someone carried the box on a fork lift to a nearby park he pondered. He couldn’t remember any park near the hospital that looked like this.

The Doctor, inside the TARDIS lowered the shield on Clara’s bubble and he moved to stand above her. He produced a small bottle from his pocket and placed it beneath Clara’s nose. She coughed then opened her eyes, tears welling up immediately.

“Mum?” she cried, sitting up suddenly.

“Clara, it’s me, your mum is fine. Would you like to see her?”

“My mum! I hurt her!” sobbed Clara uncontrollably.

“No, you didn’t Clara. Come with me” Clara got to her feet and the Doctor wrapped his coat around her shivering form, careful not to touch her. He led her to the TARDIS door and she stepped outside.

“There” pointed the Doctor “There’s your mum. You can’t speak to her but look, she’s fine” Clara stared at the lady in the distance, her mum. Her beloved mum. She was fine, wasn’t she? Suddenly Clara clutched her back and the thoughts raced in her head.

“She’s dead, I hurt her” cried Clara, crumpling to her knees and causing Clara’s mum to turn in their direction. Dr Thomson rushed to help then remembered the Doctor’s dire warning. Clara was hysterical, clawing at her own face and pulling at her hair, screaming and sobbing. Dr Thomson looked on helplessly, the Doctor looked just as powerless and he had no choice but to try and pull Clara to her feet and back into the TARDIS. Dr Thomson followed at a safe distance, looking back at Clara’s mum whose face was filled with concern. She headed towards the TARDIS to see if the girl who had just been bundled into the strange blue box was ok but as she watched the box shimmered and shuddered in the sunlight until it was no longer there. Clara’s mum stood in shock – did she really see what she thought she saw? 

Meanwhile Clara was in the throes of torment, screeching and shrieking in a manner that horrified Dr Thomson as the Doctor flicked switched and squeezed horns on the console. The Doctor rushed across the room with the helmet he had placed on Clara’s head before and he carefully tried to place it on the squirming Clara. Suddenly she gripped the Doctor’s wrist and her eyes were round with fear.

“Help me!” she screamed and the Doctor sunk to his knees. Visions of burning bodies and the fire scorched world filled his head again, Time Lords screaming, begging for his help. The sound of Daleks melting in the pools of raging lava. Dr Thomson suddenly saw a small insect like creature crawl along the Doctor’s arm, twitching antennae and ready to strike! Dr Thomson ran across the room and grabbing a small cup he slammed it on top of the creature, shoving his hand covered by his sweater over the bottom, capturing the beast.

The Doctor seemed to snap out of his nightmare and he looked up blearily at Dr Thomson who by now was terrified and unsure where to place his catch.

“Dr Thomson, you old star! Top of the class to you! Did you catch it?” Dr Thomson looked disbelieving and nodded worriedly at the cup in his hand. The Doctor rummaged around and retrieved a sturdy looking glass box. He took the cup from Dr Thomson and coaxed the insect into the box “hello little fellow” he said, almost fondly.

“Little fellow!” said the flabbergasted Dr Thomson “That...thing...just tried to kill you. Sort of”

“But don’t you see, it’s actually a very complex and interesting creature”

“Doctor, people have died because of this...thing. Clara is still suffering!”

Clara lay motionless, the helmet covering her silky chocolate brown hair. The Doctor got to his feet and looked at her carefully. There was still a parasite inside her; the one caught by Dr Thomson was just one of many that the creature could produce. The question was, where was the Fear-own connected to this particular parasite? The adrenaline surging around Clara’s body was enough to send out a beacon to the Fear-own, why wasn’t it hammering on the door right now?

“Oh, this one’s clever” said the Doctor suddenly “Come on, I think I know where the Fear-own is” Dr Thomson followed the Doctor to the door and was surprised to see, not the glorious green park but the hospital. The Doctor took off down the corridors, leaving Dr Thomson puffing and wheezing behind him and as the Doctor rounded the corner to the corridor leading to room 101 the door was slightly ajar and Miranda’s screams filled the hall. He burst in the room to see Miranda lying prostrate as the hulking form of the janitor stood above her, his fingers were gouged into her back and his grey face was starting to fill with colour. His mouth stretched monstrously wide and he roared a terrible roar at the Doctor and Dr Thomson who stood astounded in the doorway. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the enormous monster.

“Let her go, leave her be and I’ll take you somewhere you can live peacefully. Just let her go”

The Fear-own roared again and then laughed.

“I have everything I want here” the cold deep voice of the creature reverberated around the room, mingled with the cries of the terrified Miranda “Go or become my next prey!” 

The Doctor stood firm.

“Let her go” he said menacingly. The monster laughed uproariously and let Miranda go; with a terrifying screech the parasite that Miranda had sheltered for so long ran up the Fear-owns arm and into its mouth. Miranda rolled onto her back, dazed and spent, her eyes rolling around in her head. 

“I do not need her” laughed the Fear-own, its face flushed and red. It threw back its head and stretched before suddenly leaping over the two doctors and running on all fours down the battered corridor.

“Clara!” The Doctor yelled and made off after the creature, leaving Dr Thomson to tend to a weakened Miranda. The Fear-own was fast, much faster than the Doctor but still he pounded down the corridors, jumping over the janitor’s abandoned bucket and mop and sliding around corners until he came to the TARDIS. The Fear-own prowled around the top of the TARDIS threateningly, humming and singing. The Doctor watched the door creak open slowly and Clara’s ashen face appeared in the doorway, as if in a trance “Noooo!!!” yelled the Doctor, throwing himself towards the TARDIS and colliding with Clara as he leapt inside, slamming the door. 

The thoughts again, the searing flesh of bodies and the screams of the burning living, surging through the Doctor’s mind and he grasped at his hair, imploring the thoughts to cease. In moments he was back to the TARDIS and Clara was again moving slowly towards the door. The Doctor grabbed her, swung her around and pinned her to the ground. 

Bodies of Time Lords ablaze, smouldering remains of a long gone planet. The thoughts came thick and fast but the Doctor pushed them away as best he could.

Clara was still weeping and crying out for her mum. The Doctor chose the only option available to him. He whispered softly to himself “I’m sorry Clara, I need to do this. Please forgive me”

“You did it Clara” he said coldly “You murdered her in cold blood. You hurt her so badly that you caused her death!” his voice rose in volume as a terrified Clara stared wide eyed at him “You did it Clara” his voice increased in volume “You are a murderer! You will go to jail as you are the one who killed your own mother!”

“No...no” stammered Clara, the thoughts surging through her own mind “No”

“Yes Clara” said the Doctor pressing his face uncomfortably close to hers “You did it. You are a murderer! You killed her. You are evil Clara! Evil!!!!!!” Clara screamed like a wounded animal, her back arched and she wriggled away from the Doctor and at the top of her lungs she yelled: 

“Nooooooooo!!!!!!!” then suddenly she sat bolt upright “No! I didn’t do it!” she said with purpose “No, no, no” she didn’t seem scared anymore, just determined.

“You did Clara, you killed your own mother!”

“No, I didn’t!” she screamed back “I DID NOT!!!! I’m not afraid of you!!! I didn’t do what you said!!!” then suddenly her body juddered and she fell back, her back arched unnaturally again and she juddered as if seizing. The Doctor rushed to her side and she opened her mouth for one last roaring cry when the huge parasite crawled from her mouth straight into the container that the Doctor shoved hastily onto Clara’s face. He captured the parasite and Clara was silent, unmoving on the floor of the TARDIS. The Doctor checked her pulse, examined her eyes beneath closed lids and reassured himself that she was out of danger. He placed the second container next to the first and the two parasites, large and small, seemed to stare at each other through the glass.

“Gotcha” said the Doctor before rushing to the TARDIS door. The Fear-own was nowhere to be seen, the Doctor checked the top of the TARDIS and ran around the room looking for the creature but to no avail. He dashed back through the hospital to room 101 where Dr Thomson was cradling Miranda, she had been scared rigid so many times but still survived.

“You’re a plucky little soul Miranda” said the Doctor with a slight smile. Miranda smiled weakly back “You’re going to be alright y’know. Dr Thomson will look after you, he’ll take you to the new hospital until you are stabilised then hopefully you’ll walk right out of there. I’ll come back and help you find your family” Miranda looked grateful though she said nothing. The Doctor stooped to stroke her face “You’ve been so brave Miranda. It will take you a while to get back to normal; I presume you had an anxiety disorder before this?” Miranda nodded and he brushed strands of hair from her eyes “It may be scant consolation but the fear caused by the parasite may have made you strong enough to fight your anxiety”

“My...husband...you’ll...find him? I thought I had harmed him. I know now that I didn’t. Please...find him” the Doctor smiled kindly.

“Dr Thomson will help you back to good health. The Fear-own won’t come back, humans can only take one primary parasite, any others and they become immune to the hallucinogen. He won’t come back for you”

Dr Thomson lifted Miranda onto the bed and tucked her in before leading the Doctor to the doorway.

“Will she really be ok?” he whispered concernedly.

“She will be fearful for a while but now she knows the truth she can build on that and recover. She may even be stronger than ever. Few people survive the Fear-owns attack”

“Those...creatures” said Dr Thomson urgently “Where did they come from?”

“They come from a planet far from here, there are few on Earth mercifully. That one was a particularly nasty one”

“You mean there are more?”

“Oh yes, they tend to be in areas where they can get access to adrenaline so some work in the medical positions, quick glug of the old adrenaline and heart rate goes back to normal. The others simply prey on humans; some die, some suffer. The Fear-owns, as you can see, can mimic humans pretty well so you never know where you’ll find them next. I’ll round up this one and take it somewhere it can’t harm anyone”

“Parasites. Feeding on the population. I can’t believe it. Well...I can, after y’know”

“Humans can be pretty parasitic at times Dr Thomson” said the Doctor “Purging things in order to survive, you’re not far off as a species” 

“One question, you’re an alien? Really?”

The Doctor smiled impishly and reached into Dr Thomson’s pocket for his stethoscope; placing it into Dr Thomson’s ears he said simply “Listen” while placing the stethoscope against his chest, first one side then the other. Dr Thomson gasped and stared into the Doctor’s ice blue eyes with astonishment. The Doctor removed the stethoscope from Dr Thomson’s ears and grinned.

“It’s been a pleasure. What is your first name by the way?”

“Bob” spluttered Dr Thomson in surprise.

“Bob! A fine outstanding name Dr. Bob....just trips off the tongue, Bob. You’ve been amazing Dr. May we meet again” and with that the Doctor strode down the corridor leaving Dr Thomson clutching his stethoscope. After a few moments he finally regained some movement after the shock and he placed his stethoscope back in his ears and listened to his own chest – one heart. 

“Two hearts! Two...hearts” said Dr Thomson and shook his head, smiling a secret smile and gazing down the now empty corridor in the wake of his new friend.

The Doctor walked confidently down the corridor until he came to a door that read ‘Janitor’. He breathed deeply and opened the door. Light flooded into the room and the Doctor saw the Fear-own lying on the floor of the room, on seeing the Doctor it backed quickly into the corner.

“I could have travelled silently, you would never have known, I could have infested the entire universe without you knowing” said the Fear-own pathetically “but humans are weak! They cry and snivel with fear, useless vessels!”

“I happen to rather like the human race” said the Doctor, his voice low and threatening “I will defend them to the hilt, so always know that you can never do anything ‘silently’. It was your beacon that brought me here and I will always come when called. I like a good challenge”

The Fear-own scowled and writhed, the body of the janitor slowly deflated and bubbled until all that was left was a tiny creature wriggling on the floor. The Doctor leaned over for a metal box on the janitor’s desk and successfully trapped the creature, pocketing the box and opening the door. 

When he returned to the TARDIS Clara was seated at the console, rubbing her head and mopping her recent tears with a tissue. The Doctor ran across the room and held her tightly to him, stroking her hair.

“Those things I said” he said, his voice filled with emotion for the first time in a long time “You know I didn’t mean them don’t you? I was trying to push you to the highest level of fear so that your fear would drop when it found nowhere else to go”

“I know Doctor, I know” said Clara, pushing her face into the warmth of his jacket. Their embrace came to a conclusion and the Doctor took the two parasites in the glass boxes and the metal box containing the Fear-own into a safe within the TARDIS. He closed the safe and dusted his hands together.

“Well, that’s that. We’ll drop them off on the way!”

“On the way where?”

“Home Clara. I think you need some rest after today. We’ll decide other exciting places to go then”

“You’re going to abandon me aren’t you?” said Clara fearfully. The Doctor looked at her seriously.

“Of course not Clara. I just don’t want any more harm coming to you. You need some rest after today” he fidgeted with the controls of the TARDIS and it buzzed into life, humming and thrumming happily as they made their journey homeward bound.

“What was your greatest fear Doctor? You touched me and I felt your pain but I don’t understand why the parasite didn’t affect you in the same way as me or Miranda. You’re not going to tell me that it’s because we are girls are you?” Clara joked. The Doctor looked long and hard into Clara’s deep brown eyes and said:

“I don’t really feel fear anymore; my worst fears have already come true so the parasite couldn’t make me frightened of something I already know I’m responsible for. Something that has already happened” he turned away, the usual cheeky glint in his eye unusually absent and his face took on a faraway look “Come on, let’s take you home”

As Clara looked on, concerned about her friend, the Doctor busied himself around the TARDIS, avoiding her gaze. One day, she may find out his greatest fear...but today was not that day.

The Doctor and Clara are copyright of the BBC and the TARDIS is trademarked by the BBC and the Daleks are copyright of Terry Nation. Bernice Summerfield and copyright Paul Cornell. These characters and items remain the property of the owners.  The Fear-owns are a figment of my imagination and a product of my OCD.