Hello everyone! Yeah, yeah, I'm a bitch for leaving you like that, but I've got the next chapter for you! And, just an update, we are now at 98 reviews. And the story's not over yet...I guess I'm gonna have to do a sequel after all ;)

Big thanks to lenie954, Clemences-are-so-sexy (I definitely thought that said "clementines" at first and was like "whaaa?"), MyNameIsAwesome, and Skylar Kitten for favoriting and to Rylia and Shadows of Silver for stalking!

neva-chanluvsmonsters101- lmao *plays "Eye of the Tiger" to pump Cora up*

Xandora- thanks :) I love them dearly :)

TheGirlWhoImagined- Hi! How are you feeling? Better I suppose? Thanks very much for the review :) Keep drinking that soup!

holljos- Well, let me answer that question with another question. Is it weird that I enjoy that you enjoy stalking me? Thanks :)

Alyksandra Howling- ...my Doctor...MINE! *runs away with him*

MarlyHarkness- Thanks :) Is this soon enough?

lenie954- Thanks a lot :)

TheSpellweaver- Bwahahahaha! *tents fingers evily*

Fun fact: Did you know that originally I wasn't going to have Cora collapse in the first place? She was simply going to tell the Doctor...something...and then...something else would happen that I can't spoil :P But yeah, the whole Silent DNA never happened until the day I was at work and the bunnies nibbled on my ear. So there's that...

Chapter 21 – Inner Demons

Cora was weakening extremely quickly. It wasn't simply her mind that was pressing down on her; it was all of her fears, regrets, guilt, and pain crushing her. She knew she was fighting death, and she couldn't get away from it. She couldn't push the weight off, nor could she allow it to gain a single inch—if she did, it would crush her in an instant. So, Cora stayed frozen, sweating with the straining task of simply staying alive. Grunting in pain, she looked up to see Meg standing in front of her; her arms were crossed as she frowned angrily at her younger sister. "It's all your fault," she accused.

"What?" Cora gasped. "I don't understand."

"Everything! Everything that has ever happened was your fault." Meg sneered at Cora, imitating her in a high-pitched, whiny voice, "Oh, poor me. Mom's dead. Dad hits me. No one understands me! Wah, wah, wah. Give it a rest! Mom's dead because of you. Dad's in jail because of you. And now I have to work two jobs to take care of my stupid, self-centered little sister." She cocked her head to the side, pretending to think for a moment, "I'm sensing a pattern here, aren't you?"

Tears pricked in the corners of Cora's eyes; she couldn't mean that. "Meg, I—"

"Shut up. You don't care about anyone but yourself, you know that?!" Meg shouted, throwing her arms into the air in frustration. "All you do is take!"

"Cora."

Cora's eyes widened at the new voice. Shaking—both from weakness and fear—she turned her head from Meg and towards the voice. "Dad?" she choked out. She couldn't believe it; there, standing to her left, was her father, exactly like the last time she saw him. Wearing an old tee-shirt and sweatpants, the stocky man glared at his youngest child. His hair was thinning, beer-belly protruding, and he held a knife in his hand. The scar on her arm stung as she recognized it as the one he'd used.

"You did this to me," her father growled.

Cora shook her head frantically. "No, no I didn't! It wasn't my fault!"

Barking out a gruff laugh, her father rolled his eyes. "Of course it wasn't. Nothing ever was." Narrowing his eyes at her, he lowered his voice. "You made me this. You turned me to drinking after your mom died! All I did was try to beat the selfish little bitch out of you!" Cora kept shaking her head. 'Don't listen to him, it's not true.' But he wasn't finished. "And if you hadn't screamed the last time, I wouldn't be in jail right now! You would be dead, and everything would be right again!" He glowered at Cora, "You know I'm not lying."

Looking away from her father, away from her sister—she couldn't stand to face either of them—she found herself face to face with her mother; broken and bloody, fresh from their car accident. A sob caught in Cora's throat as she moaned in grief, her tears now falling freely. "You did this to me," her mom whispered, "I wouldn't be dead now if it wasn't for you." That was all she said, but the pain and accusation in her expression spoke louder than she ever could have. Cora wished her mom would have yelled at her, screamed, lashed-out in some way—it would have been easier to take.

Then, a fourth voice joined her family. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was; she would have recognized his voice anywhere. "I'm going to die because of you, Cora," the Doctor murmured. "You've sentenced me to death, just like everyone else you meet. All because you appeared on my ship, because you tried to find me again, because you didn't tell me what I needed to know right away. And for what…your own amusement? Pathetic, that's what you are."

Cora fell to her knees as the people she had, at one time, been close to surrounded her, blaming her for every bad thing in her life. And she started to believe them. After all, she was in her own mind—everything they said, she had to be thinking. She couldn't take the pain and the guilt any longer. Her feeble grip on life was beginning to slip.

It was all her fault.

All her fault.

And she would be better off dead.

Cora shut her eyes and hung her head, about to let the weight of it all crush her.

"Wait!" No more, please, she shook her head. She couldn't take anyone else. "Wait, please, just wait!" Looking up slowly, Cora was shocked to see a little girl. She was completely gob-smacked when she realized it was her three-year-old self. The little Cora's lip jutted out, her eyes pleading. "Don't listen to 'em! They're liars! Listen to me!"

"I can't," Cora gasped for air, her chest on fire, "I can't do it!"

Determination flooded young Cora's expression. "Yeah, you can. 'Cause nothing they're sayin's true! It's the bad-thing. It's making you think your mean thoughts so's it can win!"

Cora furrowed her brow. "The Silent?" Young Cora nodded vigorously. "How do you know?"

"You gots-ta trust me!" Seeing her older self's tears, young Cora thought hard for a moment. "Think about the good stuff," she decided. "The bad stuff's makin' it heavy, right? So think 'bout the good stuff and it'll get lighter! 'Sides, they all need ya out there!" Young Cora pointed off into the distance, "Meggy and the Doctor-man and Mr. Jack and the man with the needles and all them other people! You gotta do it for them!" Young Cora took a deep breath, seeing that her older self needed a bit of help. "Here, like this!"

Suddenly, an image of Cora and her mother, sitting outside drinking lemonade, flashed in front of her. They were laughing and talking about boys and school and anything else that came to their minds. Overall, it was one of her favorite memories she had of her mom. When the two of them embraced, Cora felt a moment of hope.

And that was all she needed.

Using up the last of her energy and concentration, Cora dug up the best and brightest of her memories. Meg and her playing "Cop and Robber" in the backyard, giggling like mad when they caught each other. All the times Meg told Cora that their mother's accident wasn't her fault. The moment when Cora finally believed her. The feeling of freedom she had when her father was taken away with flashing red and blue lights. Christening her and Meg's new apartment with a tub of cookie-dough ice cream and a couple of spoons. Slowly, the images of her angry family members faded away.

Cora thought harder. The Doctor's face when she first saw the stars. Owen's expression when she'd nearly taken his masculinity from him. Meg slapping Jack. Meg's blush when Cora teased her about the pizza boy. The Doctor ducking from the airborne fruit.

The weight of her guilt and suffering reduced and she made it back onto her feet. Still fighting, she thought of everything she still had to do. She needed to tell the Doctor about the Silence. She had to warn Owen about her wrath, were he to ever hurt Meg. She couldn't leave Meg on her own—she didn't have anyone else! Watching her three-year-old self cheer her on, she paused, noticed something else; a sound in the back of her mind that she hadn't noticed before. A voice.

"Come on, Cora; fight it."

And Cora opened her eyes.

Alright, so that ending was pretty cheesey...but I mean, come on. Who doesn't like a bit of cheese? ;) Reviews today will get you an adorable three-year-old you saving you from impending doom!