A/N: Wow! Another chapter done! My postings are going to slow again, unfortunately, as I have gotten busy with real life once again. But don't fret. I am determined to finish this book before New Year's.

Okay, it's going to be a bit confusing in this chapter. I hope I did a good job in making everything clear. There are three distinct voices going on in this upcoming conversation. I'm going to separate them by making one regular (no italics), one italicized, and one bold. Please remember that it is all being spoken aloud and out of one body. You'll see what I mean. If you have difficulty reading it, please let me know and I will rearrange the conversation.

Chapter 22

The Doctor's face blanched and his tirade of abusive language halted as he saw where the three interns were escorting him: straight into a padded cell. "No! No, don't! Please!" The medical staff ignored his pleas, opening the door and dragging him into the cell before closing the door as they left him alone. "No!" he screamed once again, ramming himself bodily into the closed door in a vain attempt to break it down. "Let me out!"

His attempts to get through the door via physical force failed miserably and only resulted in a sore arm, even though the door was just as padded as the rest of the cell. Yet in spite of this failure, he continued to slam into the door, ignoring the voice coming over the speakers that begged him to stop. Finally, nearly ten minutes after he'd been put in the room, he stopped, leaning against the far wall for support. Exhausted from his actions, he slid to the floor and remained motionless, panting from exertion.

"Well, isn't this just wizard," he grumbled, a glare on his face. "Leave it to you to get us locked up in a padded cell."

A second later, his entire expression changed, reflecting intense intelligence. "Don't blame him. It's not his fault you've got a stubborn streak a mile wide."

The glare returned, albeit with a hint of hurt feelings. "If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is. So, how are we going to get out of this?" His voice sounded as if he were trying to imitate Donna Noble.

The intelligent visage returned and his tone changed to his own voice, only more authoritative. "Well, you did put us in a bit of a bind. I don't think Laurel and Harry are going to be quite as accommodating as before."

"Alex was barely holding on as it was and they wanted to take his meds down further. I had to do something!"

"You could have handled it better."

"Oh, really? And how would you have handled it, alien boy?"

"I wouldn't have lost my temper and insulted them, that's for certain."

"Like you never lost your temper or got upset. What about the first time we were in Harry's examination room, the way you reacted to that scanner?"

"If you'd been under one of those scanners before, I seriously doubt you wouldn't have reacted the same way. Besides, my little outbursts are far outweighed by your big ones."

"When have I ever had a big outburst? I've never had a big outburst!"

"Oh, please, Donna. You're practically the outburst queen in this body. Like when Aderyn died, you insulted Rose, blamed her for Aderyn's death, and broke Alex and her apart. If I hadn't taken over when Rose asked us to do that translation, they never would have been reunited."

"How many times do I have to apologize for that? You'd think I didn't want them together."

"Stop it!" The tone of his voice had changed once again, this time taking on qualities that seemed a mixture of the other two. "Just stop it! You've been bickering with each other since the moment I was born."

"You weren't born. You were grown."

"Well, technically Alex is right. Biological metacrisis is a viable form of reproduction. So, if you really think about it, that means Alex is our son."

"I know that. Why do you think I didn't want Laurel to reduce his meds? You think I like him being in pain? He's as much me as he is you, you know."

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!" Alex screamed aloud. He closed his eyes tightly, trying desperately to force the two extra voices in his mind to obey him. "I can't take it anymore! Hearing both of you in my head… remembering your memories… being unable to distinguish which memories belonged to whom… having both of your personalities… Why can't you two just shut up and leave me alone? Go away, damn it! Let me be!"

"We can't leave. We're part of you, part of your psyche. We couldn't leave any more than you can suddenly and voluntarily stop your heart."

"But we don't want to hurt you either. We only want what is best for you but sometimes we just can't agree on what that is."

"Most of the time, you mean," Alex countered. "You want to help me? Let me be with my own memories and thoughts for a change! Your constant bickering is what made me bipolar in the first place! I tried shutting you up by taking more antipsychotics than I should but that didn't work! It only lasts for so long and the only thing it really did was make me an addict! Even when I tried to wean myself the first time, although you had quieted, you were still there. And when the massacre happened, you two were so loud that I went back on the drug stronger than before and now it's so much a part of me it hurts! You just won't go away and I just can't take it anymore! How do I make you shut up?!" A second later, his eyes suddenly widened with realization.

Silence descended on the cell for a moment, broken by the Doctor. "He finally got it. Took him almost an entire year but he finally got it. Haven't you?"

Alex nodded. "You can't shut up because you're a part of me and I haven't made you shut up."

"Taking an antipsychotic was never the solution to the conflict in your brain. Most of the time, when you take the drug, you're silencing your own voice and letting us take over. Much like covering your head with a pillow when the noise becomes too much."

"So you're saying that I can silence you both if I want to?"

"The antipsychotic only works for a short time," Donna stated. "If you want to be in control all the time… if you don't want us to take over… you need to find a more permanent solution."

The hybrid frowned. "But… if I silence you completely, I won't be able to gain information or insight from you. I don't want that. I don't want to lose you both completely. As the Doctor said, you're my parents. Okay, so I have a hard time thinking of you two in that manner sometimes because having you two as my parents is more than a little weird but… you both have memories and insights that I want to keep. I just don't want all of it pressing for my attention all the time."

"Then don't silence us forever. Use us to help you be yourself."

"But how do I do that?"

"You've done it before as a Time Lord. How did you cope with the memories of all those incarnations?"

Alex considered those words, knowing they were from his own subconscious and manifested as the voices of the Time Lord Doctor and Donna Noble in his mind, verbalized through his own lips. "I pushed them back, hid them behind mental doors until I needed them. But the anti-psychotic affects my ability to think, to use my mind to its full potential. I should never have started taking it in the first place. I should have let my brain heal itself from the bipolar disorder on its own. It didn't need to be taught what was normal for me. It just needed more time than I was willing to give it."

"You can't blame yourself for that. You were frightened. With three distinct personalities, TARDIS withdrawal, and physically adapting to a whole different environment, who wouldn't be frightened?"

"You did what you had to do to cope with it at the time. But we all know it just isn't working. The antipsychotic has confused the adaptation process in your brain, allowing us to become more vocal. If you want to be your own person, you need to finish the adaptation process properly."

"But how do I do that?"

"It would help if we had a telepathic healer. But since we don't, you're just going to have to heal yourself. You need to take that last step and let your brain finish what it started almost a year ago. Unless you do that, we will always be fighting for supremacy. Unfortunately, your brain is starting to think that your current mental state is how you should normally be, just as it was taught how to heal the bipolar disorder when you started taking the antipsychotic."

"And you can't heal yourself if you are addicted to the antipsychotic. But does he really have to do it so quickly? It hurts him so terribly."

"He doesn't have time to do this gradually, like Laurel and Harry would prefer. This level of addiction is already altering his brain chemistry, which is why we've become more vocal. He's put this off for far too long and, if he doesn't fix this problem immediately, his current mental state will become permanent. "

"You're saying I have to go cold turkey or be insane for the rest of my life?" Alex questioned.

"You could do this gradually but, by the time you've weaned off of the drug, your brain will have finished adapting to the way you are right now. The only way you can silence us and gain yourself is if your brain receives a shock."

"I think he's had enough of a shock as it is!" Donna protested. "Remember how much that first reduction hurt? What will happen if he goes cold turkey?"

"The quicker he is free from this addiction, the sooner he can not only repair the damage he has done to himself but also compartmentalize all of these conflicting memories and allow his true personality to develop."

There was a pause. "I hate it when you're right. Are you sure that there isn't another way?"

"Not if he is to be his own person once and for all."

Alex raised his knees closer to his chest and wishing he could wrap his arms around them. "But… what you are telling me to do… it could kill me."

"Would you rather be insane for the rest of your life? Because that's what will happen and you will never become the man Rose needs you to be."

Alex closed his eyes. "I don't want to be insane." The sound of the door being unlocked shifted his focus to the world outside his own mind.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Rose and Laurel walked at a brisk pace into the corridor that held the padded cells. Normally, a psychiatric patient would never be placed in a cell as Laurel preferred medication to calm violent patients. But, given that not all species handled human medicines, Torchwood continued to keep the cells available and updated. They were especially useful with the more violent aliens who needed to be detained, regardless of mental state. Each cell had an audio/visual system (AVS) that allowed anyone on the outside to observe the detainee or patient and to communicate with them without danger.

As they came closer to the Doctor's cell, they could easily hear the sound of pounding which indicated that the intern was correct. Alex was still ramming himself bodily against the door, screaming obscenities and demanding release. The sound of his voice pierced through the solid door without the aide of the AVS.

"I can calm him," Rose stated confidently. While it was tempting to go directly to the door and open it, prudence and training forced her to go to the AVS panel beside the door and activate the system. "Alex, it's Rose. Listen. You have to calm down." Not getting any results from her words, she reiterated them. "Alex, calm down." Again, no results. "Doctor, you're hurting yourself! Calm down!" She bit her lip, her worry manifesting itself in her facial expression. "Stop. Please." She repeated her plea several times before, as if in response to her words, the pounding suddenly stopped.

"Well, isn't this just wizard," Alex finally broke the silence, his voice coming through the speakers. "Leave it to you to get us locked up in a padded cell." He paused and, in a different tone, continued, "Don't blame him. It's not his fault you've got a stubborn streak a mile wide." Again, another pause. "If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is. So, how are we going to get out of this?"

Rose covered her mouth, her eyes filled with fright and worry. "He's holding a conversation with himself." She turned to Laurel to see a reflection of her own expression. "He's talking in two different voices. What's going on with him?"

The psychiatrist shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. Hearing Alex's self-conversing still coming through the speakers, she quickly turned the volume down, not wanting to hear the evidence of her friend's madness. "It's clear that his mental state is far worse than we originally thought."

"But how?" Rose demanded, raising her voice as her emotions started to take over her rational. "He was fine this morning! He was fine! How do you explain him going from being a little edgy due to substance withdrawal to… this?!" she gestured towards the door helplessly.

"I don't know," Laurel repeated quietly.

"I'm losing him, aren't I?" Rose could no longer hold back the tears that had been threatening to escape. "I'm losing him…"

The older woman took her shoulders gently. "I'm not giving up on him just yet. There has to be a reason for this dramatic change and I will do everything in my power to help him." Seeing that Rose was having trouble coping with the situation, she guided her away from the cell door. "Go tell Harry what's going on. I'm going to stay and watch after Alex."

"But he needs me," Rose protested.

"The best thing you can do for him is to let me take care of him," Laurel told her gently. "I'll keep you updated. I promise."

Reluctantly, Rose walked away from the scene, glancing towards the closed cell as she went.

Once Rose was out of sight, Laurel returned to the AVS and raised the volume, listening in on Alex's conversation.

"…it, that means Alex is our son. I know that. Why do you think I didn't want Laurel to reduce his meds? You think I like him being in pain? He's as much me as he is you, you know. SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP! I can't take it anymore! Hearing both of you in my head… remembering your memories… being unable to distinguish which memories belonged to whom… having both of your personalities… Why can't you two just shut up and leave me alone? Go away, damn it! Let me be!"

It became instantly clear to Laurel that her patient was suffering from a form of Displaced Personality Disorder with three distinct personalities. What amazed her was that he seemed to understand his mental state far more than anyone with DPD ever could, even to the point of figuring out the reasons for his now-cured bipolar disorder, his current mental state, and his addiction. He seemed to believe that his brain hadn't finished adapting as they had previously thought. He also came up with a treatment that he believed would cure him, a treatment that sounded completely insane and extremely dangerous.

Deciding to confront his self-diagnosis, Laurel turned off the AVS before insert her passkey into the card reader there. Typing in the necessary pass code, she then opened the door and stepped in, ensuring that the passkey was safely secured on her person.

"Hello, Alex," she greeted gently while still staying on guard. He did, after all, react violently the last time they had spoken.

"Laurel," he returned the greeting. "Just the person I needed to see. Sorry about what happened earlier. I honestly didn't mean to attack you. Everything just sort of happened at the same time and the screaming in my head overwhelmed me and…" His eyes widened with realization. "Harry! I didn't hurt him, did I? Please tell me he's okay."

"He's okay," she assured. "Nothing a bit of cleaning and some rest won't cure. Same with the intern you bit."

He sighed in self-deprecation. "Yeah, that was Donna. She… she didn't like him. Tell him sorry from me."

"So, Donna bit the intern?"

Alex paused at her question, an uncomfortable expression on his features. "That sounds a bit crazy, doesn't it?"

"A little. I heard your conversation. I'm assuming Donna's one of the people you were talking to?"

"Her and the Doctor." Noting the clinical observation she was making of him, he grimaced slightly. "I know what that sounds like but I'm not talking to imaginary people, even if they are in my head. I was having a conversation with the mental manifestations of the memories and personalities I inherited from my Time Lord father and Human mother. Yes, they are still there but they've decided to be verbally silent as to not confuse you, though Donna is nudging me to get on with telling you want I need to. And, yes, I'm well-aware that having two other personalities in my head telling me what to do makes me technically insane. But they're a part of me and they can't just go away any more than I can stop my heart from beating."

"So I heard. I also heard that you want to silence them and you three have come up with a frighteningly dangerous solution."

"It's the only way," he told her emphatically. He winced strongly as he moved his knees closer to his chest, an indication that he was enduring some withdrawal symptoms. "I'm running out of time. With the reduction of the antipsychotic, my brain's starting to finish adapting and, right now, it's deciding that me being insane is normal."

"You seem very coherent for being an insane person," she pointed out.

"Yeah. Well… that's what you get with a biological metacrisis who never really finished cooking because he was too busy fighting against multiple personalities and three different sets of memories. I should never have let you talk me into taking medication for bipolar disorder. Should have stuck with meditations only no matter how long it took."

Laurel wasn't ready to accept his explanations easily. "All the tests that we've run on you indicated that your brain had finished developing."

"Oh, Laurel, don't be so dense! You heard most of my conversation and you know what the antipsychotic is doing to my neural pathways! It's messing me up completely and, if I don't get off the substance as quickly as possible, I'm going to remain insane!"

"I'm not sure that you are insane, Alex," she countered.

"Oh, sure! It's perfectly sane to have a three-way conversation with yourself and be completely aware that you are having the conversation while also knowing that you will likely continue having such conversations and be completely unable to prevent them from happening unless you do something that could possibly kill you and will definitely cause severe harm! Do you honestly think that I'm faking this just so I can put myself through hell for my own entertainment?!"

She considered his words for a moment. "Going cold turkey wouldn't be an instant fix," she warned gently. "There would still be a chance that you'd relapse into dependence as you'd still have cravings for several months."

He shook his head. "You're thinking Human biology only. I have a mostly Time Lord brain and therefore my addiction stems from my Time Lord half. Yes, it will be rough going for a while but I should be completely free of cravings after a month or so." Seeing that she was still hesitant to relent on his plan, he bit his lip and closed his eyes tightly, blatantly upset with the situation. "Please, Laurel. You have to help me. I can't… I can't do this alone. I'm not strong enough. I know it goes against every instinct you have on the matter but I can't be me until my body finishes what I should have let it do almost a year ago. Please!"

She looked on Alex with uncertainty. He certainly seemed to know what he was talking about yet she couldn't get the sounds of him arguing in three different tones from her mind. How did she know for sure that he really understood what he was asking of her? How could she allow such a drastic regimen without some kind of proof that it was needed other than Alex's word?

On the other hand, what he was saying made odd sense. If his brain hadn't finished adapting to being half-Human and in a universe ruled by a different set of physics laws, it certainly would explain his fluctuating behavior over the last year. There were many times when she had thought that perhaps his bipolar disorder had reasserted itself. Yet, when she and Harry had reviewed his semi-annual physical exam, there had been no sign of the disease.

"Shit," she murmured, rubbing her hand across her forehead. Looking on Alex's desperate features, she sighed in frustration. "I can't risk your life on something that might be all in your head."

"It's not." He frowned. "Well, technically it is but that doesn't mean that I'm just imagining it. It's real, Laurel. And I don't want to be insane for the rest of my life. Please," he finished, his fear clear in his voice.

She was silent as she once again weighed all that had been said between them and what she heard over the AVS. "I need to consult Harry on this. When we have made a decision, we'll let you know. In the meantime, we'll continue with your treatment as we have been. Given your reaction this afternoon, I think that we'll continue with three pills every dose for the time being."

He straightened noticeably, giving her a glare. "I won't take them. If I have to do this on my own, I will."

"You said you couldn't do it on your own."

"I can try," he asserted.

She gave him a small overly patient smile. "Of course." With that, she exited the cell, ensuring the door was locked, before heading back towards the examination room.