All my loyal readers, thanks for sticking along with me despite the massive delays in posting chapters. There are a ton of reasons for the delays. It's high season at work and I've been very busy with that along with home life, leaving me little time to write. There are only three chapters left in this story but I am working on the next story of the saga. Unfortunately, because life is getting in the way and the story isn't cooperating with me (I've found that I have to rewrite a couple of chapters as things are happening too unrealistically quickly in it). I don't want to post the last three chapters and then leave all of you hanging for months until there is a sequel. I've already done that with another story (Dreams and Nightmares ended with the intent of a sequel but I've been having a hard time working on that. I'm having more fun and better luck writing this one). So, I've decided that I will post the next three chapters but not quickly. Hopefully, I will have a good four chapters of the next story in the saga ready for posting within the next two months (I'm being very cautious about my time table on this). Keep in mind though that life is hectic for me and please be patient.

As always, I love reviews! They keep my spirit up.

Chapter 19

Late July 2015

The Doctor was almost free of his addiction. He could feel it with every second that passed when he didn't even think of taking a dose of antipsychotic. After two months of struggling, he'd reduced his intake of the drug to truly recreational levels. In fact, the only time he used the drug was when he felt the need for some mild stress relief, much like a full-blooded human would use alcohol after a long hard day at work. As a result, when he went in for the prescheduled scan that Harry and Laurel wanted, the two doctors could find absolutely no sign of any defects and officially declared him bipolar-free and having a completely clean bill of mental health.

Even better, in his opinion, his relationship with Rose had grown stronger now that he wasn't a regular user. In fact, he frequently stayed overnight at the condo. He still hadn't moved back in with her – he didn't want to do that until he was completely free of the drug – but she was remarkably understanding with the decision in spite of not completely knowing the reasons. His three month lease on the studio apartment had ended but he renewed it on a month to month basis rather than going for another three month lease; he was certain that he would be returning to the condo within the next two months.

Thanks to Pete's and Rose's recommendations, Alex was hired as a History teacher at the University of London. He found his job to be instantly challenging. It wasn't that he hadn't become completely well-versed in this universe's history. It was the simple fact that half of his students barely paid attention in class while the other half were deeply engrossed in the lessons. Apparently, the motivations of why people did things that affected the course of the world just weren't in everyone's interest, while Alex found it all fascinating. It only made him more determined to engage his students. As such he made things far more personal for them, requiring them to get interviews for their papers. He also started to dress for the subject whenever he could. Before the end of his first month there, he'd already become renown for being the most eccentric and most liked professor on campus while also being acknowledged as being the toughest. He may dress in a toga and speak in fluent Latin when teaching the fall of the Roman Empire and he may be friendly, sometimes to a fault, but all his students knew that didn't mean his classes were easy. In addition, a couple of students discovered that it was impossible to cheat in his class; he always seemed to know. Alex never bothered to tell them that it was because he could feel their unease when they were trying to be deceptive.

Today he was teaching the Roaring Twenties of the United States and, as such, decided to dress in his black pinstriped suit and a fedora. The impression he gave with his attire was that of a Chicago mobster of that era. Not that he objected too much to the look. He had to admit he looked smashing in a fedora.

As he walked through the main building towards his classroom, he could feel a quiver of strong anxiety running through him, feelings that were not his own. It was definitely stronger than the usual discomfort he felt from students nervous about making it to class on time or whether or not they would get a good grade on the homework assignments. Someone who had just passed him was angry, dangerously so. Looking around, he tried to locate the person but was unable to find him – he was sure that the person was male – in the melee. The feelings he'd caught from him were so strong that Alex knew in his gut that something bad was going to happen. Unfortunately, without knowing who it was he felt those emotions from, he had no idea how he would be able to prevent it or even that he should.

Shaking off the feelings, he refocused on the day ahead. "Okay, class," he called out as he walked into his classroom, putting his briefcase on his desk. "Who did their homework and read chapter fifteen in your textbook?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was nearly noon and Rose's mind was elsewhere. She normally paid close attention during departmental meetings. After all, important information necessary for Torchwood's smooth running was relayed during these meetings, information that could make a difference in how agents reacted during alien encounters. But she hadn't been getting much sleep lately, tormented by nightmares she couldn't really remember. She'd also been hearing a particularly frightening sound over and again, that of gunshots and terrified screaming. She'd asked several times before when she'd heard the sound if anyone else had heard it only to get confused stares in return. The only people who didn't seem to think that Rose was completely losing her mind were her Dad, her Mum, and the Doctor. And Tony, but then he was only four years and four months old. Even Rose was starting to doubt her own sanity the more she heard the sounds.

She decided that, after the meeting, she'd go see Dr. Sullivan and see if he had anything to help quiet the sounds. At the very least, she needed something to help her sleep. She couldn't keep avoiding it for fear of waking up frightened and confused.

"Rose, what's the news concerning the negotiations with the Argelians for those minerals?" Pete's voice broke her peace, drawing her into the meeting.

"Sorry?" she questioned. Seeing him raise his eyebrows, she realized what he was asking of her. "Oh. The negotiations are going well. We should have a resolution before the end of the week."

He looked at her for a moment before nodding slightly. "Good. Any other items anyone wants to bring up?" Not getting a response, he ended the meeting, reminding everyone to keep him apprised of any new changes.

As the meeting room emptied out slowly, Pete went up to Rose. "Stay a while," he told her quietly, though he couldn't avoid his words being overheard by at least one of the exiting department heads. Once they were alone, he sat beside her at the conference table. "You weren't at the meeting." Seeing her frown, he gave her a fatherly smile. "You know what I mean. Hearing those sounds again?"

She nodded slowly, her head dropping to look to the floor. "Yeah. They're coming more often now. I'm going to see Harry about them. Maybe he can give me something to help quiet them so I can get some sleep at night."

"Have you figured out what they mean?"

"You think they mean something?"

"Don't you? This gift you have… Bad Wolf? It's shown itself in all sorts of ways in the past."

"I wouldn't call dreams and waking visions 'all sorts of ways'," she murmured.

"Still what you keep hearing is pretty specific. Unless it's changed," Pete wondered aloud, knowing that Rose would correct him if he was off-track.

"No, it's still the same. Gunshots and screaming. The only thing that's changed is me. I'm getting more and more anxious, like I'm heading somewhere and I don't know where exactly I'm going but I know that I won't like it when I get there. Like the sounds are just the beginning. Does that make sense?" Seeing that her father was trying to find a response to her words, she shook her head. "If this is some sort of premonition, it's telling me something horrible is going to happen and there's nothing I can do to stop it because I have no idea what exactly is going to happen or even where."

Pete placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze. "I'm sure that, whatever and whenever it is, you'll be up for it."

"I hope so, Dad," she murmured back. Standing up, she gave him a none-too-reassuring smile. "I'll be okay. Gonna go see Harry like I said."

"Okay," he responded, though he couldn't keep his concern from his voice.

Rose left the conference room and headed towards the lift, intent on going to the infirmary. As she walked, her mobile rang, the ringtone telling her that it was Alex on the other end. "Hey," she greeted as she answered the call.

"Hey," he returned, his tone cheerful. "I was wondering if you were available for lunch. We could meet around one o'clock maybe?"

She glanced at her watch as she approached the lift. "Sure. Gives me time to see Harry."

"Still not getting any sleep because of those sounds, huh."

"They're louder today. I could barely concentrate on the department meeting."

Alex gave a sympathetic groan. "Well, hopefully Harry can help you out there. Shall we meet in the park? There's a Thai restaurant nearby that just opened. I want to see what it's like."

"Sounds good." Even as she spoke, screams and gunshots could be heard echoing into Alex's phone. "Were those gunshots?" she questioned frantically, ignoring the lift as it opened.

Alex's response was firm but quiet. "Get the authorities here. Now," he ordered. "We have an armed gunman. Damn it! I saw this coming! Why didn't I do something?"

"What do you mean you saw it coming?" Rose demanded, hurrying back the way she came.

"Someone passed me earlier today. I could feel he was very very angry and I got this feeling that he was going to do something bad. I should have stopped him but I couldn't figure out who it was. I should have looked for him."

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have known he'd do this," she told him bluntly as she burst into Pete's office without knocking. She quickly put her phone on speaker so that her father could hear the other side of the conversation. "You're on speaker. Dad's here. Where are you now? Can you tell how many shooters there are?"

"Shooters?" Pete questioned with concern. He picked up his phone and dialed the London Metropolitan Police while the Doctor responded.

"I'm in the Student Hall. I'm pretty sure there's only one shooter," he said over screams of fear. "I can't see him but, from what I'm hearing, he's coming closer." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I see him now. He's about average height, brown hair… I'd guess early to mid…"

A shot, screaming, and a shouting voice Rose couldn't understand interrupted his words, silencing him. "Alex?" Not getting an immediate response, her voice raised with panic. "Doctor?"

A couple of seconds passed before he answered her plea in a forcefully calm voice. "I have to go now. I love you." A moment later, the line was dead.

"Oh, my god. Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!" Rose repeated, her body quaking. Desperation grew in her eyes as she stared at her mobile, listening to the dial tone that replaced her beloved's voice.

Pete, torn between going to his daughter to comfort and reassure her or to stay on the phone waiting for police assistance, decided that getting Alex immediate help was far more important. The moment he reached the appropriate officer, he quickly relayed what little information he had. Once he was sure that police were on their way to the scene, he hung up and dialed another number. "Williams, gather a team and go to the Student Hall at the University of London. There's a hostage situation there. Yes, I know that's normally strictly police business but Alex Smith is there. Yes, our Alex Smith. Coordinate with DCI Helms when you get there. Take Simmonds with you."

His instructions given, he finally went over to Rose. Pulling her into his arms, he rubbed her back. "I'm sure he'll be fine," he told her, trying to keep his own concern out of his voice. While the Doctor was probably exactly where he needed to be at a time like this, he also could be completely unpredictable. And while Pete knew in his heart that the hybrid would do everything he could to ensure that everyone inside would get out alive, he tended not to consider his own life and might do something rash which would cause his own death. That was something Pete knew would shatter his daughter's heart and he didn't want her to even think of the possibility.

His hopes for that were dashed the minute Rose pushed him away roughly. "How can you say that? You know Alex. He always walks headlong into trouble! He never thinks about his own safety! And he just can't do that anymore! He can't! He can't regenerate anymore, not now that he's part human. He'll get himself killed!"

"Rose, stop it!" Pete ordered, grabbing her shoulders. "Right now, I need you to have a clear head and so does he. I know you're worried about him but so am I. The situation is bad enough as it is without us going into a panic."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Once he released her shoulders, she tucked her phone into her pocket and wiped her face with her hands, forcing her breathing to slow down. "What are we going to do?"

Understanding that her emotional state prevented her from overhearing his phone conversations, he explained, "Metro has agreed to coordinate the situation with Torchwood. I'm sending a team down there and assigning Jake to it. He's our best marksman if we have to take this guy down."

"Right," she agreed, starting for the door, determination on her face.

"Rose, you're not on the team. I've put Williams in charge."

She stopped, turning around as her determination changed into surprise. "What?!"

"Right now, in your current mental state, you're a liability. It's a conflict of interest that may cause the situation to escalate and I can't ignore that. You're forbidden from going anywhere near the university until this is resolved."

"You can't do that," she protested. "Alex is in there. I have to help him."

"It's because Alex is there that you're prohibited," he countered. "I want him safe too but taking this guy down is our number one priority. And we can't afford to allow our emotions to dictate our actions."

"You're sending Jake and he's our best friend."

"Emotional objectivity. Jake has proven time and again that he can look at situations far more objectively than you when people he cares about are involved."

"You're saying I can't be objective?"

"Not when it comes to Alex, you can't. And don't tell me that I'm being unfair. If it were Mark in there, I certainly wouldn't let Jake on the team, no matter how objective he can be, and you know it," he emphasized, referring to Jake's domestic partner. He exhaled with frustrated concern. "Rose, please, stay out of this. Your mother and Alex would never forgive me if anything happened to you. And I would never forgive myself."

Rose crossed her arms, clearly upset by Pete's decision. "You can't stop me from going."

"That may be so but you're still not on the team." He sighed, conceding strictly because he knew her sheer stubbornness wouldn't keep her away. "Okay. If you want to be there, fine. But if you interfere in any way, Williams has full authority to restrain you by any means necessary. Do you understand?" Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he pressed, "Unless you want to be restricted here. I can put a guard on you if necessary."

She exhaled with reluctant agreement to his conditions, knowing that it was better than being stuck in Torchwood Tower, completely helpless. "I won't interfere. I'll just be there to advise and support. I promise."

"Good. You do that. Bring Alex home."

She nodded her understanding and hurried out the room while Pete once again contacted Williams with further instructions.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The bullet had embedded itself just left of the Doctor's shoulder into the wall behind him, silencing him in mid-sentence.

"Put down the phone, Dr. Smith! Now!" the shooter demanded over screams of terror. He was an average looking young man, between the ages of twenty and twenty-five. His hands shook as he held the semi-automatic handgun, telling Alex just how much of an itchy trigger finger he had.

"I have to go now. I love you," the Doctor told Rose as calmly as he could before he ended the call.

"Put it on the floor and kick it away from you!"

He obeyed slowly, making sure that his hands could easily be seen. When the mobile was far enough away from him to satisfy the assailant, he took a breath, deciding that someone had to get control of the situation. "I know that you're in charge here. And I know you know the police are coming. When they arrive, it will be up to you how all this turns out. My suggestion – and it's just a suggestion – my suggestion is that you surrender."

"You called the police?!"

"No. No," Alex replied quickly, seeing the man growing more agitated. "I was making a lunch date with my girlfriend. But she heard those shots you fired. She heard the screaming. She has connections and I have no doubt that she is using those connections right now to bring a whole lot of trouble down on you, namely the police and Torchwood. Now this can go very smoothly or very poorly. Which would you rather it be?"

The young man seemed confused for a moment before renewed determination came to his eyes. He aimed his gun more firmly at the Doctor. "Shut up! Get over here and sit down! Now!"

Alex carefully made his way to the gunman and sat down where indicated. Given how antsy the shooter was, the hybrid decided that keeping silent was the best course of action for the time being. Taking off his fedora so that it didn't interfere with his observations, he looked around the hall to assess the situation more closely, searching for a way to get everyone one out alive. Fortunately, being the summer semester and a Friday, the Student Hall wasn't nearly as full as it had been when he first toured the campus, around the same time of day, after being hired. The hall currently had about twenty people in it, all of them either sitting or laying on the floor. He couldn't tell if any of the ones lying down had been shot or injured but he knew the whole room was tense with fear of the man with the gun. They had every right to be afraid of him, Alex concluded when he noted that there were at least three more bullet clips in the man's pockets. The shooter had come prepared for the long haul.

Turning his attention back to his fellow captives, Alex identified as many people as he could. He saw a fellow teacher lying on the floor. Again, from where he was seated, he couldn't tell if he had been killed or was injured. A couple of his own students were in the room, one of them a particularly bright young woman named Shelley Bancroft. She was excelling in his History class and, if her choice of classes was any indication, would probably graduate summa cum laude. He certainly always looked forward to reading and grading her papers. She always had a unique insight into what important figures from the past had thought and why they did what they did.

The sound of sirens grew louder, telling all that the police were arriving on the scene. The Doctor looked on the assailant, trying to figure out who he was and why he was doing this rash deed. He guessed that, based on the man's age, he was a student but he never recalled seeing him before. The man obviously knew who he was; he addressed Alex by name. But then a lot of people knew his face thanks to the tabloids. He needed more information and he wasn't going to be able to get it keeping silent. Neither was he willing to get himself shot by speaking out of turn.

Raising his hand, he waited until the man saw him.

"What's with the raised hand?" the shooter demanded.

"You didn't want me to speak before so I figured I should ask for permission. May I ask one question?"

The man gazed at him, his expression indicating annoyance, anxiety, and surprise. "All right."

Alex lowered his hand with the permission given. "Why?" Seeing the confusion look on the assailant's face, he clarified, "Why are you doing this? Why did you shoot people? Why are you holding us hostage? What is it that you want?"

"That's five questions."

"Your expression indicated that you wanted clarification on the first one."

The man glared at him. "None of your business."

"Actually, given that you're holding all of us hostage, it is our business. I think we deserve to know why our lives are at your mercy. So, what is it that you want?" He paused, watching the man carefully. "The police are going to find a way to negotiate with you, to find out what it is that you want. I can help."

"Can you?" the shooter demanded sarcastically. "Can you bring her back from the dead? My fiancée died because people like you convinced her that she could make a difference in the world and she went on that university sanctioned mission and now she's dead because of it! So, can you bring her back? Can you?!"

The Doctor remembered the mission the man was referring to. Three weeks before, a group of students had gone with their Archeology professor with the intention of exploring some newly uncovered ruins in Turkey and to assist in the recovery there after the country was hit by a massive earthquake. Their plane had crashed on approach into Istanbul. There were no survivors. The crash was still being investigated but there was already talk that it was a terrorist attack. The hybrid gazed on the man, saddened by the revelation of his heart. "No. No, I can't. I'm sorry."

"Then shut the hell up."

Alex obeyed, once again deciding that he needed to spend his time observing the assailant in order to try to determine his intent.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had taken the police ten minutes to get to the university and to cordon off the area. Ten minutes after that, Torchwood arrived and Williams took control of the situation, working with the most senior officer, DCI Helms, on the scene to determine exactly what the situation was inside the Student Hall while coordinating an evacuation of the rest of the campus. Jake Simmonds immediately went to coordinate a joint group of Torchwood and police officers, positioning themselves in key positions in case they needed to infiltrate the building.

Together, Torchwood and Metro accessed CCTV inside the building and found images of the assailant shooting students. From the footage, it was clear that there were at least ten people dead. On the plus side, the video helped them to identify the assailant. His name was Kyle Martin and he was a student at the university, working on his Bachelor's in Business Management. However, despite repeated attempts to talk to the assailant, it appeared that Kyle wasn't interested in negotiations. It was only after Kyle's brother Adam showed at the scene that they found out Kyle's fiancée Tamara Parrish had been killed in the tragic plane crash in Turkey. Adam informed them that Kyle had been in a deep depression since the crash and had talked about getting back at the university for letting Tamara and her friends go on the trip. Of course, Adam hadn't thought that Kyle would actually go through with his talk, especially since he seemed to be coping with the accident only a few days before.

Rose found herself sitting at the far end of the command center, drinking coffee and generally wishing that she could help in some way. She was starting to think maybe her father was right in wanting her to stay at Torchwood Tower. At least there she could attempt to distract herself. The only thing she could do was listen in on the discussions between Helms and Williams. And from the way that Williams continued to make sure that she was within eyesight, it was clear that Pete had given him instructions to keep her safe.

"He's not going to let those people in there go," DCI Helms said as he and Williams reviewed their options. "He as good as said so when we tried to negotiate with him and he refused."

"Well, he's got to want something other than revenge or he would've done something by now," he replied, pushing down the growing fear in his gut that this situation would end badly with even more people dead.

"Some people just want to be noticed, want to feel as if they have some kind of control over the uncontrollable," came the DCI's counterargument. "He lost his fiancée so he wants the rest of the world to feel his pain."

Rose gained a look of realization as they spoke and abruptly interrupted. "No, that's not it. He wants to be released from his own pain. He's had his revenge and now he's waiting for us to do what we have to do to stop him. And if we don't act soon, he'll start shooting again just to force us."

"So, he's suicidal," Helms agreed reluctantly. "Damn. Looks like the only way we're going to end this is if we do it his way and send in our men." He lifted his radio and gave the order to move in with instructions to avoid killing Martin unless it was absolutely necessary. "If this gets as ugly as we think it will, I hope your man is as good a shot as you say he is," he told Williams.

"He is," he responded, his tone somber with the awareness that there would be more bloodshed in only a few minutes time. He glanced at Rose and noted how her hands tightened slightly around the cup she was holding. There was no doubt that she knew things were going to get bad quickly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At the same time as Torchwood and the police were realizing Kyle Martin's purpose in holding the hostages in the Student Hall, Alex was coming to the same conclusion. He'd listened to Kyle's rejections towards negotiations, learning the man's name in the process. However, the more the man refused to talk, the tighter Alex's stomach got. It was the only thing that made sense with the evidence. Apparently, in Kyle's view, living another day without her just wasn't an option. But then why not just commit suicide at home? Why drag innocent people into it? Again, the reason was clear when he thought about it. He blamed the school for his fiancée's death so he was making the school pay first.

Alex again looked around the room. He noted that a student had covered the prone teacher's head, telling him that his colleague had died. One female student continually burst into tears, causing her friend to shush her into silence regularly. People coughed nervously as they awaited their fate. A small group of five students decided that nothing was going to happen so they might as well play a card game until they could get on with their day. And Shelley Bancroft did her best to support the people around her while keeping a wary eye on Martin. The hybrid gave her a gentle smile of approval when he was sure that she could see him but Martin could not.

After yet another attempt by the police to contact Martin, Alex knew he needed to do something to end the situation as peacefully as possible. The police would only try negotiations so many times before they started to send in men with guns. And when that happened, there was going to be more people dead.

"You know, I think the police would be more willing to listen to you if you let people go," he told Martin. Not getting a response, he pressed gently, "Kyle, I don't think she would want you to do this." A moment later, the gun was pressed into his forehead, causing students to scream in fear. The card game was instantly forgotten.

Alex swallowed tightly, fear of his own death flying through his mind as he forced himself to be calm. "You want to kill me, Kyle? Okay, fine. Just let the rest go. You obviously see me as representing the school and you hate the school for what happened to your fiancée. If killing me will stop this, then do it. Just let the others go." He looked up into the man's eyes, praying that he would finally see sense and stop the madness in order to avoid taking another life.

The look in Martin's eyes, however, showed serious intent. He looked away from Alex for a moment before returning the intense glare. "You represent the university well, Dr. Smith. All that talk meaning nothing. So, no, I don't want to kill you. I want you to feel the pain I've been living with for the last three weeks." Without further word, he turned the gun onto the students and started firing.

"No!" Alex screamed, scrambling frantically to get to his feet and stop the bloodshed. Before he could get near him, he saw the back of Martin's head explode with blood just before the shooter collapsed to the floor, dead. Trying desperately to get air into his lungs – why wasn't his respiratory bypass system working? – he choked back sobs as he looked around.

Martin had succeeded in killing three people before being killed himself with a single bullet to his head.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The mixed team of SWAT officers and Torchwood agents entered the building quietly as the command center sent one more request for negotiation into the building, gaining nothing but an emphatic negative from Kyle Martin. Receiving permission to proceed from command, the team quickly positioned themselves to enter the Student Hall from various locations, thus maximizing their chances of taking down their objective before more lives could be lost.

However, when Jake saw Martin force his gun into Alex's forehead, he knew things were about to get very ugly. Martin had obviously been waiting for the police to storm the building so that he could finish what he started. Without waiting for yet another okay to move in, he ordered the team into the building, quickly picking a spot on the second floor walkway to make his shot. When shooter saw the team enter, he said something to Alex and then proceeded to shoot students. Jake had no choice but to shoot Martin dead, his precision marksmanship finishing the job quickly. On a personal level, Jake was glad that Martin hadn't shot Alex the minute the team entered.

"Suspect down," he informed the command center on his radio. "We're assessing the condition of the hostages. At least three were shot when we moved in. Let Agent Tyler know Dr. Smith is safe." Making his way down with the rest of his team, he joined the ones that had entered on ground level to check the frightened people there. He immediately went to Alex, who was standing over the body of a young woman.

The older man shook from pent up emotion, as he gazed on the woman. "Shelley was twenty years old," he said quietly as Jake put a hand on his shoulder. "She was so brave. Didn't once scream. Swallowed the fear she was feeling to help others cope. She was brilliant too. She had… a unique view of the world. And I killed her." His voice tightened as he finished.

"You didn't kill her, Alex," Jake told him softly. "That bastard did."

"I talked too much. Kept trying to get him to open up, to negotiate through me. All I did was make him want to hurt me and he could see how much I cared about these people, especially for Shelley. If I'd just kept my mouth shut, she'd still be alive."

Seeing that he wasn't going to convince the hybrid otherwise and knowing that he had other people to attend to, Jake squeezed his shoulder, showing his support in the action. Then, leaving Alex to his mourning, he went to ensure the calm and organized evacuation of the building.

It was fifteen minutes before Alex found himself sitting in a folding chair, a cup of tea growing cold in his hands as a police officer questioned him at length but with great patience on what had happened in the building. He could see through the entrance to the tent where he was sitting that Rose was just outside, waiting impatiently for permission to come in to see him. Once the officer had gotten as much information from the hybrid as he could and had moved onto the next survivor, and once the nurse there had cleared Alex of any medical problems, Rose was finally allowed in.

"Hey," she said quietly, sitting near him. He hummed an acknowledgement of her greeting. "Jake found your mobile," she told him, offering the piece of technology to him. Silently, he accepted it and slipped it into his jacket pocket. The tension in his body worried her, though she wasn't surprised by it. She knew he'd been through an ordeal that she doubted she would completely understand. Nevertheless, it hurt to see him so withdrawn. "You okay?" she questioned, immediately wishing she hadn't asked because the answer was obvious.

"Oh, I'm peachy," he responded sarcastically. "I only spent the last three hours being held captive by a man determined to get himself killed and to take several people with him in the process." Saying his thoughts aloud acted like a sledgehammer to the wall he'd been building around his psyche. He wrapped an arm around his torso and hid his head with his other arm, taking in a shaky breath. "Oh, gawd. I… I…" He sniffed as tears welled up.

Rose, knowing the Doctor so well, reached over and gently took his hand from his head. "It's not your fault," she told him gently. Seeing him begin to negate her statement, she reaffirmed, "It's not. He still would have killed people. And maybe a lot more people would have died if you hadn't been there to keep him calm."

"I didn't keep him calm. I aggravated him," he countered in a shaky voice.

"That's not what the others say and I believe them. You saved lives back there."

It was clear in his eyes, however, that he didn't believe her. Pulling his hand from hers, he ran it through his hair and then down his face. He took several more shaky breaths before finally looking in her eyes. "I want to go home."

"Mine or yours?"

"Mine. I don't… I can't be around people for a while," he admitted.

She looked on him with growing concern before telling him that she would check if it was okay for him to leave. Gaining authorization for his departure from Williams, she escorted him to her SUV and drove him home.

"The Grand Dean says that he's going to close the campus next week in memory of the lives lost," she informed him on the way to the studio apartment. She glanced at him to confirm that he was listening to her. "He's also providing counselors in case anyone feels like they need to talk. I think maybe you should consider talking to Laurel." Although it was clear he had heard her, he didn't respond. She let the matter drop until they arrived at his home.

Making sure that he got up to the apartment safely, she hesitated as she started back towards the SUV. "You sure you don't want company?"

"I'm sure," he replied, his voice quiet and forlorn.

"Okay. Well, you give me a call. Let me know you're okay."

"I will."

"Love you."

He muttered a return of the affectionate statement before closing the door, effectively ending the conversation.

Rose stood just outside his door, torn between insisting on being with him and letting him handle his feelings on his own. Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was nearly dinner time. She decided that she would wait a few hours and then call. Once she was assured that he was safe, physically if not mentally, then she would be able to at least try to get some sleep. Reluctantly, she returned to her SUV and returned to her own home, glad that she lived close by.

At first, Alex merely sat on his couch, staring at nothing in particular. His mind was racing as it replayed the events of that afternoon over and again. He didn't understand why he'd survived and those three students hadn't. He was the one that wouldn't be quiet, who kept trying to get Kyle Martin to negotiate. Even after Martin had told him that he wanted Alex to suffer, it didn't make sense to the hybrid. Eventually, the memories became too much and Alex crawled into a corner and wept, wishing that he could somehow change what had happened. The knowledge that he couldn't only made the feelings of guilt grow, crowding his mind.

He tried to distract himself by ordering a pizza, knowing that he hadn't eaten since breakfast and hoping that the ordinary act would help him cope with his feelings. The only result of his endeavors was a cold untouched pizza sitting on the kitchen counter since the hybrid couldn't find the appetite to take even one slice. Finally, he decided that he needed more than a distraction; he needed relief.

Going into the kitchen, he located and pulled down the jar of antipsychotic powder that he kept in the back on a top shelf. Since reducing his intake to recreational levels, he preferred to take the drug a teaspoon at a time in a cup of hot tea no more than once a week. Now, he dished out three teaspoons and dissolved it in a tall glass of tap water. He nearly gagged drinking the concoction but nonetheless finished it, making sure that there was no residue left at the bottom of the glass. Then, ignoring that he left the drug out on the kitchen counter, he made his way to his bed and, kicking off his trainers, slumped down on it. Briefly, he realized that he was still dressed in his black pinstriped suit and that his fedora was likely still in the Student Hall. "Damn. I liked that fedora," he muttered to himself as he started to feel the effects of the drug.

He'd never take such a large dose without building up to it over several months so he was surprised with the result. He felt as if he were floating and the entire universe was whipping around him, exhilarating him. He could easily see how attractive the sensation was to those Time Lords who decided to use the drug. "Yes," he sighed with approval. "Oh, yes." He smiled, closing his eyes so that he could better experience the high he was obviously on. He was so enraptured by the sensations that he didn't hear the sound of his mobile ringing.