XXXXX

"Strange," Brooke said as she looked into the microscope. The cells were red, like blood cells, but they had black spikes all around it. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"Rory, you're a nurse," Amy said, "What are they?"

"A nurse, not a scientist," Rory said, "But they might be bacteria, and not the good kind."

"So it's a type of sickness." the Doctor said.

"Maybe."

"If it is, there's a cure," Brooke said, "I don't know of one, though, because I've never heard of it."

"Can't you develop one?" the Doctor said, "You have the materials, right?"

"I think so, and I'll try," Brooke said as she carefully removed the thin glass slide, "I'll head to the lab."

"Hang on," Amy said, "Can you tell us what the hole's for?"

"We got curious about what happened after the Silurians got extinct, so we decided to see."

"The disease might've killed them off," Rory said with a shrug, "Just a thought."

"A good one, though."

Brooke exited the room with the slide, leaving the trio inside the room. Amy folded her arms and said, "I don't trust her."

"Why?" the Doctor said, "She's developing a cure for the disease."

"I know."

"So why don't you trust her?" Rory asked.

Amy walked to the calander hanging on the wall and pointed at the previous day. "Look, 'Successfully drilled to center of Earth.' She said that her crew was killed, right? It can't be on the same day."

"It could," Rory said, "It might've been an epidemic."

"Hold on," the Doctor said, "Amy might be up to something." He reached for a file cabinet and opened it, revealing folders arranged to look like a closed accordian. He took the folder labeled "Fatalities" and opened it. All there was inside was a seemingly endless onslaught of papers and records. There must have been many workers before the disease. He observed the first paper he saw and read it aloud, "'Jacob Arnold; Died of mysterious disease 26 January, 2665.' That's last year."

"What about this?" Rory said as he pulled out another paper from the folder, "'Allison Merriam; Died of mysterious disease 5 March, 2651."

"I don't understand," the Doctor said, "If they drilled to the centre of the Earth yesterday, how did the disease kill them more than ten years ago?"

"Time travel, maybe?" Rory suggested.

"Not far enough into the future. What could it be?"

All of their thoughts were abruptly stopped by a bloodcurdling scream. They hurried to the hall to see who it was. Another crew member, possibly. They entered the room that the screams came from. They were right.

A man, at least in his twenties, was against the wall with his knees to his chest, quivering like a child who witnessed the death of a parent. Gesturing for the two to stay, the Doctor raced to the shaking man and got down on one knee. According to the nametag sewn onto his shirt, he was Jake.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked, concern in his voice.

Jake looked at him with wide bloodshot eyes. "The. . .the disease. . ." he said, close to hyperventalating, "I. . .I have. . .the disease!"

"It's okay, you'll be okay. Brooke's trying to make the vaccine."

Jake flinched and looked away when he said "vaccine." His shivering never ceased. Maybe he had a fear of needles.

"I got it!" they heard Brooke say, the thumps of her shoes growing louder. Jake stood and bolted to God knows where. Brooke entered the hall the trio was in, holding a syringe in her hand. "I got the cure to Inferno!"

"In-who-what?" Amy said.

"Inferno, meaning 'Hell,' since that's where we found it. Anyway, we need to get you three vaccinated."

"Can it work on, say, non-humans?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah," Brooke said, "I've tested it on myself first, being a human. Non-humans, I've tested it on a dog, a 'tree' and a Raxowhowhatsit. Why?"

"Just asking."

"So," she said, "Anyone who wants to be immune to the disease should follow me to the infirmary."

XXXXX

Amy and Rory stood beside the closed infirmary door, waiting for Brooke and the Doctor. She chose not to have the vaccine, for she still didn't trust her, and dragged Rory with her. After what seemed like hours, the door opened. The Doctor and Brooke exited the room, with the Doctor rubbing his upper arm.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Brooke asked, "Did it really hurt that bad?"

"Like a Dalek beam," the Doctor mumbled. He looked at her as he spoke up, "At least I won't get the disease. . .Inferno, right?"

"Right." she said with a nod.

"Quick question: Where's the washroom?"

Brooke pointed towards the hallway beside them and said, "Go over there, head to the hall on your right. Should be the second door to your left."

"Thanks," he said before darting off.

"Washroom break?" Amy asked.

"Probably to handle the side effects," Brooke said, "He might be a bit nauseous."

"Is that why you two took so long in there?"

"Not really," she said as she went back into the infirmary, Amy and Rory following, "He kept interviewing me about the vaccine, like what the side effects are and if it'll work." She closed and locked the door. "A bit supersticious, if you ask me."

"Why'd you lock the door?" Amy asked.

"The moon's gonna turn red any minute," Brooke said, "I thought I'd protect ourselves."

"Without the Doctor?"

"Oh, right. The bathroom stalls don't really lock." She walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it. "I'll go get him. Lock this door, alright?"

She exited the room and closed the door behind her. Rory locked the door as Amy said, "What're you doing?"

"Do you plan on dying tonight?" Rory asked.

"What about. . ."

Their arguement stopped when they heard a soft knock on the door. "Is anyone in there?" a sadistic voice said. It sounded like that panicked man from earlier.

Amy was close to screaming before Rory covered her mouth and dragged her to the corner of the room. Jake continued, "Come on. I'm never fond of hide and seek."

"Stay quiet." Rory whispered as quietly as he could. Amy nodded. He moved his hand away from her mouth. A previously frightened man that sounded too sinister to recognize. That could mean that the moon turned red.

And the Doctor, Brooke, and Joel are in serious danger.

All of her thoughts went blank as rapid thumping grew further from the door and someone too familiar screamed. Her eyes grew moist as more thumping pounded on her eardrums. She kept herself from screaming his name.

After a series of thumps, a loud bang cut through the smallest bit of silence there was left, then a thud, then footsteps.

A gunshot.

Someone was shot.

The Doctor might've been shot.

He might be regenerating.

He might not be himself anymore.

He might not be the Doctor anymore.

No.

No no no no no.

"Amy?" Rory said quietly, "Are you. . .are you crying?"

Amy reached up to touch her cheeks. They were moist with an endless stream of tears. With a sniffle, she said, "Rory. . .Doctor. . .he. . .he's. . ."

Rory softly hushed her as he held her in his arms. "It's okay." he said in a comforting tone, "It's okay."

Her eyelids grew heavy, the warmth of his comfort a lullaby. She refused to succumb to drowsiness and sleep until she knew for sure that he was alive.

But it was so warm, so calming. . .