A vulgar thump bellowed over the faint sounds of the skyward storm. An outward dint was knocked into the door from the inside. Alarmed, the Doctor gyrated on the spot, his eyelids flaring with surprise.
Amy did almost the same, except panic hung off the end of her drooped jaw. Another thud and the Doctor decided to act. He used the sonic to bolt the door further then rushed to the closest satellite.
''What are you doing?'' Amy wondered aloud. ''Can I help?''
''Lucky we were teleported all the way up here,'' he replied, once again taking out the scanner and combining it with the force of the sonic screwdriver. ''I can recalibrate the destination of the transporters so that when the ship takes off, it'll be taken to the wrong dimension; one devoid of life. No lives to ruin but their own.''
''But he said those transporter things aren't working yet,'' Amy retorted, ''so what's the point? ''
Another powerful knock rapped on the door and another dint appeared. The hinges rattled slightly.
''You're not gonna let him kill someone else are you?'' Amy added, half joking. She promptly turned serious. ''Are you?''
The Doctor finished up messing around with the scanner and looked sombrely at Amy. He marched over to her and looked her dead in the eyes.
''No,'' he said, lecturing his companion, ''never. I'd put myself in that elevator before I'd let anyone else get thrown in.''
A moment of silence, interrupted by a thump, before Amy nodded her head. The Doctor scurried back to the satellite and fixed the scanner to the base of the dish. Amy straightened up and provoked him with another query.
''So how do you plan on fixing the transporter, then?''
The Doctor jammed the sonic into the satellite and rays of green radiated from the dish, before dissipating shortly after. He flipped the screwdriver in the air and faced Amy with a stern smile signalling he had a problematic plan.
''I don't let anyone else go in.''
''What's that supposed to mean?''
A switch flicked on in Amy's head. Her eyes thinned and her lips parted, not to meet again for a few long moments in which they tried to choreograph their movements into speech, but they both forgot how to dance.
''But…'' murmured Amy, after eventually regaining the ability to talk, ''you can't. How does that even work? You can't-you can't just throw yourself away like that.''
The Doctor saw Amy about to break down and immediately ambled to her until the tips of his shoes were pecking the tips of hers. He looked her up and down, sure that he'd done something wrong but not quite certain what that thing was.
''Hey,'' he said soothingly, resting his palms on Amy's shoulders, ''I'm not throwing myself away. Don't for a second think I'd leave you all alone in this nightmare resort. It only needs a bit of my hair.''
He pranced away to check back on the satellite, perusing every inch of it with the sonic.
''Time lord D.N.A,'' he continued. ''More energy than is necessary. Which does come in handy, though I would like to be able to lie down every once in a while.''
Amy's short-lived sadness reformed effortlessly into frustration.
''Are you always going to be like that?'' she snapped, stepping forward a little. The Doctor gawkily glanced up with worried confusion.
''Mysterious and elusive. Implying one thing and meaning another,'' Amy finished.
''Amy, shush,'' the Doctor retorted, his eyes darting around madly. Amy scoffed.
''Don't you shush me, mister. I have every right to know what's going on in that funny shaped head of yours.''
''Amy, just listen. Do you hear anything?''
Amy stopped fuming and listened intently.
''No,'' she said huffily, ''why?''
''Somebody was at the door… so what happened to the knocking?''
Expecting something to come bursting into sight from any direction, they were staggered to see smoke seep out through the edges of the door.
''Got a plan?'' asked Amy.
''Uhh, hide until it goes away?'' proposed the Doctor.
''Works for me,'' piped Amy.
They snuck around behind the block that contained the staircase back into the building. Falling silently to the floor on the other side, the eerie smoke slid forwards a few feet and began to rise vertically upwards, leaving behind it the creepily climbing body of Cole. The last of the smoke dispelled off the top of a mesh of black hair.
''No more games, Doctor,'' rumbled the voice of Soran. ''I did not think you would reduce yourself and your companion to such a mindless attempt at concealment. I know of where you are avoiding confrontation, but I will not act to controvert your evasion.''
''What's he on about?'' Amy whispered, but was shunned by the Doctor's hushing gesture.
''Attempts to catch you, I see, are futile,'' the Reaper went on. ''Your tricks are not of this Earth. I am here to offer an ultimatum. Leave, now, and I will shortly follow suit. Or stay, and condemn yourself to isolation from this dimension. Either way, my job is done. The energy I require is on its way up. Good morning, Doctor.''
In a poof, Cole vanished and all that remained was a cloud of smoke that retracted back through the cracks in the door. The Doctor jolted up and ran around to the door, Amy hot on his tail. He sonicked the bolted door back to normal and flung it open.
''How do I save them?'' he asked himself, his eyes looking through every nook of his brain for an answer that kept escaping them. Without a plan, his first instinct was to run, and so he did; through the door and down the stairs and onto the hallway, Amy automatically following close behind. They tore down a couple of storeys, not quite knowing what they were heading for.
The Doctor came to a sudden stop on floor two-hundred and nineteen. Amelia almost rammed into him. The Doctor looked left and right, through the crowd of curious patrons and landed his sight on the corner of the hallway. Rushing to the other side of the floor, he sonicked open the elevator doors and looked down half a mile into the steel abyss. The screwdriver started to stutter and whine, like an engine failing.
''Don't. You. Do. This. To. Me. Now,'' stammered the Doctor, hitting the back of the screwdriver with each syllable. From the bottom of the pit came a rumble and a roar. The elevator was starting up.
''No,'' whimpered the Doctor, ''no!''
He hit each side of the open doors with the sides of his two clenched fists.
''There's got to be another way,'' griped Amy, ''another way to stop it. We have to get down there somehow.''
The Doctor turned intimidatingly to her.
''How?'' he cried. ''There is no other way. It's too late.''
''So you're just gonna give up?'' rebutted Amy. ''You teleported us down there once, do it again!''
''It's not that simple,'' retorted the Doctor. ''All the teleporter energy is focussed on the elevators, I can't do a thing.''
''You said you wouldn't let anyone else get in that thing! Doctor you can't just-''
''I can't what? I can't save everyone, there's another rule of the universe. The universe won't let me!''
''But you can at least try!''
The Doctor looked defeated. He turned back to face the open elevator doors, pressed each hand to the sides and let the weight of the weight of the walls hold him as he struggled with the weight on his shoulders.
''For me,'' Amy snivelled, ''whether you save them or not. I just want to see you try.''
The Doctor conceded to Amy's plea. He knew that there was nothing he could do. If there was a solution, he would know it. For the first time knowing it wouldn't have a purpose, he brought out the sonic screwdriver and yielded it towards the top of the shaft like he knew it would work. The façade, at the very least, brought Amy back to life a little, but it wasn't enough to save whichever poor soul was trapped in the now skyrocketing elevator.
Closer and closer it got to their floor, as the Doctor and the sonic fought hopelessly against it. Just when it seemed like the screwdriver was going to wear out, a grinding screech sounded from above. A mechanism at the top of the shaft was strangling the cables in an effort to slow down the steel cage.
The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise as hope hit him hard. Still tightly clasping the screwdriver, he looked at Amy and managed to muster half a smile before the elevator flew past the open doors, putting the sonic out like a candle in the wind and shoving its carrier to the floor. The Doctor closed his eyes in despair.
The electric blue from the energy converters flooded the scene. Florid red hair waving in the remnants of a deathly gust, the light of the sonic screwdriver falling asleep and the ghosts of the past idly walking by with only a curious glance to give to the present; all lit up by the eerie light of a life just lived. Beauty in death, and still the Doctor refused to see it.