"And in your heart, you know it to be true, you know what you gotta do. They all depend on you"

My heart's pounding in my ears, keeping time with my feet as they slam against the metal floor. Running away.

Probably loads slower than I actually thought I was going. The fever had fled my body, so I wasn't actively dying, that's in the plus column. But my whole body was still just a step above useless and I was sucking in wind like a chain smoker by the time I turned the second corner. And why weren't there any rooms when I freaking needed one? Where the hell were all the rooms? Even the one with the wishy-washy furniture would do right now.

Despite the growing stitch in my side, I couldn't slow down. I had to keep going. I had seen something in Koschei's eyes that had freaked me right the hell out. He was scared. Not just 'creepy clown jumping out at you' scared. No, this was real fear. The palpable stuff that made your guts clench up and you skin break out in a nervous sweat. The kind that had me up and running thirty seconds after I had been on the brink of death. And I was not a runner.

It hadn't just been the look in his eyes that had me flying down the halls. Or, maybe more accurately, jogging slightly slower than I could walk. It was Rassilon. I had recognized him easily, even in Koschei's skin, thought I hadn't really wanted to admit it. And the way he had said 'what shall we do with you' was going to give me nightmares for weeks. Even thinking about it made my skin crawl. I thought I had been fed up with being afraid all the time, but this kind of fear was in a league all its own. It had me wanting to run and scream and close my eyes forever.

But I didn't really have the spare lung capacity for screaming right now. And if I closed my eyes, I just knew I was going to run smack into a wall. And Koschei was trapped in there with him.

Koschei.

I should have stayed. I should have helped him. What kind of shitbag leaves someone behind? Me. My kind of shitbag. He would have helped me. In fact, we were in this exact situation because the jerk had helped me. Right after I had specifically told him not to. It was the single bravest thing I had ever done, and he had ruined it. With his god damn need to save the day. If I ever got him back I was going to kill him.

And now there was the problem of Rassilon being in full control of a body. Of a time lord body. This wasn't going to go badly at all.

Now didn't really seem like the time to turn around and give Koschei an 'I told you so', no matter how tempting. It was probably poor taste. Also, I might end up dead.

My legs are jelly. Like, lime flavored jelly, packed into tubes around my bones. And they're going to collapse under me any second. I almost burst into tears when I saw the door, thank freaking Jesus somewhere to hide. And breathe. And not be running for two damn seconds. It opened and I slapped the button frantically on the other side until the metal wall finally slid shut behind me.

I let out a shaky breath and collapsed against it, my legs folding under me so suddenly I didn't realize it until my ass hit the ground. With some effort I drew them up and rested my elbows on my knees, sucking wind so loudly I could have been mistaken for a turbine engine. A sort of wheezy one. I should really start working out. Or at least jogging. Once.

Hell, who was I kidding? If I lived through this I was going to get the best damn couch money could buy and I was going to live on that sucker for the rest of my miserable life. Safely in front of the TV where no villains could get me. Except an early onset of heart disease. I should be so lucky to die of a heart attack. Not right now mind you…later. With the couch.

That wasn't a particularly comforting thought when I finally looked around me. Instantly recognizing the room. It was still gray and empty, like the last time I had seen it. But decidedly less filled with rotting corpses like the last time I had seen it…before the last time. The Doctor had encouraged me to face my fear, after they decided it was harmless. He had shut down the program entirely, promised me nothing would appear. I still only made it two steps inside before I broke out in a cold sweat.

And now I was stuck here. In the god damn nightmare room.

"Oh come on." I still didn't have the strength to stand, much less leave. Besides, I didn't think that was really an option. Spooky nightmare room, which sometimes reanimated the dead, who also happened to sometimes have physical form. Okay, that was bad, really bad. But compared to spooky nightmare man? He was most definitely planning all sorts of unpleasant things right now, which may or may not include reanimating the dead. Still, it was almost tempting to face him instead of this rather plain looking room. Instead I just closed my eyes and ran my hands through my sweaty hair.

"Christ I need help…" I said to break the oppressive quiet. It didn't help much, since I sounded weak and afraid. Not the stirring consolation I was looking for. Now that I was still, I realized that everything hurt. My joints bitched and moaned. My muscles felt like I had run a god damn marathon instead of just down the hallway. Apparently another thoughtful gift from Rassilon. Ass.

"Voice interface online. How can I help you?"

If I had been standing, you probably would have had to peel me off the ceiling. As it was, I was still crumpled on the ground, not really capable of getting any air. Instead, I jerked my head back in surprise, having forgotten I was against the door. Until, you know, my skull reminded me it was there. Suddenly. And pretty painfully.

I yelped.

And swore. And then swore a few more times for good measure. Scowling, I finally looked up.

"Doctor?" The voice had come from somewhere, and it appeared to be the Doctor. My annoyance quickly gave way to relief. I mean, the annoyance was still there, but the fact that there was someone, a real proper grown-up, who could fix this, was probably the best news I'd had all week. This was time lord alien bullshit anyway. Let him come up with a solution. I'll just hang out over here, trying my best not to lose my freaking mind. And possibly make a run for it. If my legs are up to the challenge. Which…they probably won't be. He better have a real good plan.

"I am not the Doctor." He corrected me, in an oddly emotionless tone. He was still wearing that stupid bow tie, and that enormous forehead. If he wasn't the Doctor, than I was god damn MacGyver. And I was terrible with paper clips. And duct tape for that matter. "I am a voice interface."

"I'm sorry, what?" Interface sounded clinical, all computery and such. He didn't look high tech, he looked like a nerd, an annoying nerd who was wasting my damn time. Though, he wasn't a walking corpse, so already my visit to the nightmare room was an improvement. Maybe my luck was finally turning around.

"I am a voice interface." He repeated in that same bland tone. "How can I help you?"

Well that was just peachy. The Doctor has gone off his rails. Maybe my luck had buried its head in the sand, never to be heard from again. "Listen, we don't really have time for this. Rassilon has taken over. He's in Ko- the Professor's head. This is bad." I clarified, in case he needed reminding. "Where's Donna?" She didn't seem to be the type to lose it, she would be able to help. The Doctor blinked once and gave a sharp nod.

"Donna Noble is with the Doctor."

I looked around the room, still just as empty as before. Actually, that was strange, how had he gotten here? I was very careful to check for zombies before I had risked closing my eyes. The room had been devoid of anything other than myself. "Where?" I asked irritably.

"They are in Cardiff, Great Britain. Europe. Earth. The Solar System. Milky Way galax-"

"Yeah, thanks." I stopped him. "You can just say 'I'm off my rocker' Doctor. It's easier." What the hell was I going to do? Apparently Donna had left the ship. Did I believe that? Maybe. Didn't really matter, because she wasn't here and that was really the only place she could be that would be useful to me.

"I am not the Doctor. I am the voice interface." His response was less clinical than before. In fact, he sounded irritated. "And, honestly, it's getting rather tedious to have to repeat myself every time-" He paused, his carefully blank face suddenly melted into one of confusion. Great, so now we were both on the same page. If I could just get him looking frightened too, we'd be perfectly aligned. "Well that's new…" He blinked a few times and then looked at me, as if finally recognizing I was in the room. "How…" He stretched his lips wide then, like his face had fallen asleep and he was trying to revive it.

He was starting to worry me.

"Oh, this is very odd." He finished stretching his mouth and then started to probe at his face with his fingers. He changed to making random noises, and then puckered his lips and attempted to whistle. He wasn't very good at it. I really wasn't in the mood for a trip to crazy town, not with passengers anyway. Actually, I wasn't in the mood for anything other than slipping into a coma. But this was the Doctor, and he was kind of my last hope. He needed to get his shit together right now, or I was going to go skipping off to join him on the crazy express. That would be bad.

I guess I wouldn't be freaking out so much. Plus I bet there's gotta to be some frequent flight miles that I'm racking up.

No. Still bad.

"Hey," I said, pushing myself up from the floor. God that hurt. I snapped my fingers to get his attention, he seemed to have just mastered whistling, in a halting sort of pathetic way. "Did you hear what I said? The part with Rassilon? Scary time lord? Kind of a big deal. Is there a plan for what to do about him? Because I'd really love to hear one."

"Plan?" He frowned, distracted from his whistling. "Don't be silly, he never plans things."

Okay, that sounded pretty accurate, but the whole third person? That smacked of crazy. The 'non-recoverable in time to save the day' kind. Crap. I stepped toward him, thinking maybe proximity to a mostly sane person might help him. My limbs didn't thank me for the movement, but they were cooperating, for now.

"Are you feeling alright?" I didn't sound very sympathetic, it probably related to the fact that I wasn't feeling that way. It took every ounce of my self control not to scream at him. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' or 'Get your shit together!' or maybe 'AUUUUUGHHHHH!'. That last one probably wasn't going to help things, so it's good that I managed not to use it.

"Oh I'm feeling quite excellent." He said, suddenly grinning. "This is exciting. I've never been male before. I wonder…" His eyes snapped to mine and suddenly he had a firm grip on the back of my head. And then he puckered up and pressed his lips against mine.

In the second grade me and a boy were dared to kiss each other. This was a lot like that. Sloppy. Confusing. Weird. So incredibly awkward.

"What the hell!?" I jerked away from him but he didn't seem intent on holding me still.

"That was rather disappointing." He frowned. "It wasn't different at all…" I wasn't sure if I should be offended more because he had tried to put the moves on me, or because of the 'disappointing' comment. Either way. What the hell? "Oh! It's you!" He suddenly snapped. "You're the girl who's leaking all that radiation! Oh, brilliant! It should have killed you ages ago, but here you are!"

"Yeah. Me. Only my name is Fitz." I growled at him, trying to wipe the remnants of crazy time lord off my face. This whole rescue mission was taking a very disappointing turn for the hopeless. And doomed.

"Right. Right." He nodded seriously, and then ruined the effect by saying my name over and over again, in varying tones of voice. "How did you though? Survive? Doesn't make sense…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Oh. Of course! Hah!" He clapped his hands together and turned back to me. "It was a gradual biological redistribution! He thought he could make it work. What a silly man." He shook his head. "This body's not real though…ah. But you've been feeding into the psychic interface vacillator. Now it's not just projecting the psionic waves, it's actually giving them form. The particles are reacting-"

"Oh my god. You have to shut up. Right now." I took another step back from him. "Donna already told me about the holodeck. I don't care how it works." I shook my hands at him, begging him to stop. His frantic energy made his words blend together in a techno babble mush. Not that it would have made any more sense if he had slowed down any.

"Holodeck?" He frowned at me indignantly. "This isn't a holodeck! This is a state of the art piece of time lord technology that's been perfected over billions of years-"

"I know I just mentioned the part where I don't care." I glared at him. "You know what I do care about? Rassilon. Him and his crazy little plans. That's on my 'big deal' right now. Maybe you could join me, we've got buttons."

"Oh, right." He nodded slowly, not looking particularly pleased with my tone. "The time lord." His hands went to his throat. "What a strange low voice…" He trailed off. "You said something about buttons?"

He was having a serious problem with his focus. I reared back and swung my palm at his face, connecting with a satisfying smack. He was going to start making sense dammit. And he was going to do it now.

"Ow!" He balked at me like I had just struck him. Oh. Wait. Yeah, I just did that. Good. At least I had his attention now. "You slapped me!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't start coming up with a damn plan!" Actually, if I were being honest, it felt pretty awesome. I had never slapped someone before, it was totally all it was cracked up to be. From the pink finger marks on his cheek, I'd say I was born for this. "We're in big trouble, and I am starting to lose my calm." Unfortunately, the last part came out a bit desperate and pleading. Probably because I was desperate. Sort of ruined the effect of me being a total slapping bad ass, but what were you going to do? "Please, Doctor."

"I already told you." He rolled his eyes. "I am not the Doctor. I am the voice interface. Although…not really. I mean, not this time anyway. I should be. But I'm not. I'm actually the…wait. No, I remember…" His hand slowly slid down from his face where he had been cradling his cheek. "Ah! Yes. I'm the TARDIS. Time and relative dimension in space." He smiled quite proudly.

"If you use words like that again," I said very carefully, my fingers itching to fly at him again. "I will slap you. Again. Several times." Actually, I was having a hard time not letting loose. I kind of just wanted to shake him senseless. It was a great stress reliever. And knowing I had absolutely no control over anything right then, well, it was giving me a lot of stress. And that was putting me in a semi violent kind of mood. Except replace semi with extremely, and you'd have a more accurate description.

"Alright! Alright!" He put up his hands defensively and took a step back. "I'll try and explain it better for your thick dull-" My arm was starting to rear back, almost unbeknownst to me. "Sorry, sorry. Poor choice of words. Your inferior brain…still not good?" He eyed my arm warily.

"No. Not even close."

"The ship. I'm the ship. The TARDIS." He said hastily.

"But…" Okay, maybe I did have an inferior brain, but I was pretty sure we were inside the ship. Which made me less inclined to believe him. "You look like the Doctor."

"Yes, that is the default setting." He looked down at himself as though disappointed. "The last time I took actual physical form I looked like this…" I watched as he shrunk a few inches, his hair grew out long and curly, darker too. And he became…a she. His pants ballooned out into a large shirt and his jacket shrunk into a tight fitting bodice. He was definitely a woman. This was just like those rooms. Except they didn't add a couch, they added breasts. And subtracted…er. Other things. I assumed.

"So…you're the ship." I said slowly, hoping that if I said it out loud maybe I would believe it, or maybe the Doctor would appear again and shout 'just kidding!' and things could go back to normal.

"Yes," the strange woman smiled. "That's me. Somehow your mutation has effected this room so that projections have become…well. Real. No, that's wrong. Not real. Artificially real. Substantial. Anyway." She stretched her neck and her form rippled again. The hair shrunk away and the Doctor's image appeared once more. In a dress. Briefly.

I snorted. Loudly. And then started to giggle. By the time I had stopped, tears were flowing freely down my cheeks and the Doctor was glowering at me, looking rather annoyed. He was also, mercifully, in his tweed jacket again. I guess 'he' was an 'it'. And not the Doctor, but the TARDIS.

No. That's too insane to think about.

"I don't see what's so funny." He humphed.

"It's an inferior mind thing. You wouldn't get it." I wish I had a camera. Koschei would have probably died to see the Doctor wearing a dress, and a rack. Oh, thinking about that stung a little. A lot actually. That killed whatever amusement I had been feeling. Killed it proper dead. Thanks reality, I wouldn't want to forget all the misery you seem intent on hammering down on me. "So what do we do then?"

"Well, I suppose we need to hunt ourselves a time lord." The Doctor said, shrugging. "I think I can pull out all the oxygen, though he'll only regenerate, but that should give us time to kill him permanently."

"Wait, what?" I felt like he had pulled all the air out of this room. "Kill him? No. That's the Professor out there, you can't just kill him." My voice was rising as I spoke. "He's a person!"

"Yes, but I'm afraid he's a person who's absorbed another, and rather dangerous, time lord. One who's in control and is planning on ripping all of space and time apart as we speak. He will literally unravel the universe." The Doctor said with his eyebrow raised.

"But…" Unravel the universe? Jesus. This was a big deal. What's your big argument now slick? 'Please don't kill him, I like him lots'? I had the feeling that wasn't going to fly with Doctor McShippy here. "There's got to be another way." There was that wimpy sad voice again. Filled with defeat even before anyone had said 'no, you can't have ice cream for breakfast'. Ice cream was a dairy product. Lots of people had milk for breakfast, why was this any different?

Way off topic. Because I was deflecting. I didn't want to think about the real problem.

Why did Koschei have to die?

"Oh," The Doctor said thoughtfully. "Oh of course. You're the stray he picked up with the Professor. You-" He paused and looked uncomfortable. I flushed red, if I really was speaking to the ship, I wondered how familiar it was with our 'relationship'. Suddenly I was certain that this pervert TARDIS knew every sordid little detail, and I hated it.

"Yes." I said in confirmation. To being the stray, to traveling with the Professor. To whatever other things he was implying.

"Right. Well, unfortunately…" He trailed off, frowning with a passing thought. "Hah! Now I know what he was doing! That silly idiot." A grin spread across his face and he looked at me again. "You're absolutely right, there is another way. The Doctor was working on it just before Rassilon shot him."

"Shot him? You're-" No, stupid. Not the ship. "Er…the Doctor's been shot?"

He waved my concerns off. "Yes, but he's alright, not even enough damage to set off a regeneration. I think Rassilon wanted him alive, though I'm not sure why. Anyway." He spun away from me and started to walk the length of the room. He brought up his arms and suddenly more things were appearing, seemingly pulled from the air. They were hazy at first, less real. But when I blinked there was a silver helmet hanging from the ceiling, and a chair beneath it, looking a bit sinister with all the straps it appeared to have. "There we are then. All we need to do it get Rassilon into this room."

"That's it? You just need him in here and…you can help the Professor?" I tried not to sound too hopeful. I suspected whatever miserable son of a bitch gods were watching over me were likely to pounce on any kind of displayed optimism and tear it to pieces like a pack of wild dogs. And then urinate on it, purposefully.

"Most likely." The Doctor smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not as reassuring as you think." I glared at him. "So how do I get him in here?"

"Well I don't know." He frowned at me. "I'm just a voice interface!"

"And I'm an inferior minded human!" I could feel myself starting to panic. This whole plan hinged on me being able to get Rassilon into this room, where, in my mind, rainbows would come out and everything would suddenly be perfect.

If my reality check was trying to suggest otherwise, it could just shut the hell up.

But I had to make this happen. If I didn't, Koschei died. It would be my fault. Completely.

"Well, I don't know. He was in your head. I'm sure you've got some rapport with him now?" The Doctor said hopefully. "It's been my experience that everyone wants something." What did I know about Rassilon? He was crazy-go-nuts? And pretty evil? So…nothing then? Yeah. I felt like that summed it up. The Doctor saw the terribly blank look I was giving him and sighed. "If I know anything about time lords, I know they're lonely."

"Lonely?" The word didn't compute. Or not in any useful way anyway. Besides, didn't Rassilon have Koschei to keep him company now? You know, since he stole his body? I'm sure they had loads to talk about.

"Yes. You know, lonely." He raised his eyebrows like he was hinting at something. If there was something the Doctor and the TARDIS had in common, it was their inability to use English to communicate even the most basic thoughts.

"Just because you said it differently doesn't mean I have any idea-" But then I did. Lonely. Time lords were lonely, sure. But he had said lonely, like he was an adult trying to speak in code. My nose crinkled up in disgust. "I'm not going to seduce that psychopath so he'll follow me!" I was livid that he would have even suggested it. Also, I was probably a flaming pink color.

The Doctor just shrugged. "It was a long shot anyway, I doubt your 'womanly wiles' are capable of it. Oh well, opening the airlock works too." Suddenly there was a wall filled with controls and he was spinning dials like a man intent on sucking the atmosphere out of a spaceship.

"Wait! Just wait!" I yelled, running over to grab his arm to stop him. He gave me a dismissive look, but he stopped what he was doing. Was that really the only option? I was going to flirt my way out of trouble? Sure, wasn't that what all women do?

Most women are trying to get out of a speeding ticket, not entrap an alien mass murderer. My inner critic reminded me. 'Shut your gob' I responded.

No. It wasn't the only option. If I could sneak up on him, overpower him, and then maybe drag him back here, without him waking up again; well, that could work too.

I didn't even need negative Nancy to chime in on that one. That was a failed plan if I'd ever heard one.

"Fine." I had to try, didn't I? What's the worst that could happen? Oh, yeah, everyone dies.

"Excellent. Knew you had it in you." The Doctor smiled. "I can only give you five minutes, so you best work quickly."

"What happens in five minutes?" I frowned, I was good, that's what I told myself anyway. But was I five minutes good?

"Well, the effects of your radiation will fade after you've left the room, and I'll cease to exist. If I'm not here, there's no way to stop Rassilon permanently, and if you fail, we need a plan B. So I'll open the airlock before I defragment again."

"So I've got to get him back here by then or we'll both be sucked out into space?"

"Basically." The Doctor said with a mad grin. And they said people didn't look like their pets. Or ships like their…owners. Jesus Christ I hoped I was five minutes good.

"Let's do this."