Hi everyone! This chapter was... well, interesting to write you could say. Very interesting. It's definitely changed a lot since the original, hasn't it? This is a big twist on the story chapter, which I actually am pretty excited about writing in future chapters. *rubs hands together* This is going to be so much fun...

Anyways, I'm pushing the T rating again. *chuckles nervously* This chapter has... mentions? No, not the right word... Ah, well, this chapter had SELF HARM sort of thing, so if you don't like that kind of stuff I recommend you read until you see something about blood, okay?

Haha, anyways, I hope you enjoy and all of that!

(Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. I only own my OC, Phoenix, who I am torturing endlessly right now.)

Phoenix awoke to the sound of screams, leaving her bolting upright in a flash. Her head rapidly looked around for the source, but she couldn't find anything. Actually, she really couldn't find anything. She was in a blank white room, on the ground, with nothing around her. Absolute nothingness. She really didn't like the sound of that.

She backed into the corner of the room, which was surprisingly small, and went into fetal position.

Everything that had happened… It had broken her, you could say. She was in a state of paranoia, scared of everything. Even the dust collecting in the corner. Everything was dangerous to her. Everything was a threat, a monster, an imposter. Nothing was safe around her anymore.

Phoenix's head jerked up as she heard a popping noise. It sounded like someone had apparated, the teleporting thing from Harry Potter. What she saw was no person though. It was… chocolate, fish custard, and a fez? What the hell?

She slowly crawled over toward it, scooping up the items and grabbing the note attached to the bowtie.

Hi Phoenix!

I sent you a bowtie, fish custard, and chocolate because I feel sorry for you in the last chapter, and you deserve something nice.

I'm sorry you think the Doctor is dead, but truth is, he isn't. You were hallucinating! Wow! It was probably because of all the heat of becoming… well, I shouldn't tell you. You shouldn't remember of course.

Anyways, he's really depressed and you should probably say sorry.

I really have no idea when this will arrive, or if it will arrive at all. I'm probably a really stupid whovian attempting to do this.

Anyways, wear the bowtie please, and eat the chocolate. It's sweet, I swear. Oh, and the fish custard is surprisingly good. I didn't think it was as good as it was.

Oh, and hugs. Very, very tight hugs from me to you and all of the other characters.

From, 10th Squad 3rd Seat

Phoenix stared at the note in confusion. Chapter? Hallucinating? What the hell? It looked like a note from a fangirl or a fanboy… but how was that possible? Was she in a story? Well, that would be extremely depressing, considering that would mean she wasn't exactly real. But it felt real! Well, the room she was in at the moment didn't feel real, but all of the previous things did! Was she actually in a story? Depressing, yes, but also very very cool?

"Hello all the people reading this?" Phoenix said softly, feeling slightly embarrassed as she did. It was official, she had finally gone insane.

Phoenix munched on the chocolate as she looked around the room, feeling much better than she did before. It actually was surprisingly sweet, just like the note had said. She absolutely loved chocolate, how the person had known that was something she had no idea of, which was something that wasn't common, which made Phoenix kind of cheerful. Any other time it would make someone annoyed, but she often knew how things turned out, meaning hardly any surprises ever. And quite a few consequences along the way. Which then reminded her of Doomsday, the one day no one ever wanted to talk about.

How was the Doctor going to react? She would assume not very well, but still. She would always, until the day it happened, be worried that the Doctor would throw her out of the Tardis or something. She had read it in fanfictions before, and frankly, it scared the shit out of her. She had the same fear for Angels take Manhattan, or almost any point a companion was taken from them actually. But what could she do about it? Doomsday, fixed point, Angels Take Manhattan, fixed point, DoctorDonna, fixed point. What the hell wasn't a fixed point? Suppose Martha's leave, but that was on her own free will, and that was the one thing she would never take away from anyone, even if it lead them to their own death. She would warn them, of course, but never force a choice upon them. Having been forced upon the task of jumping around the Doctor's timeline and taking care of the old lump, free choice was something she gave willingly. Not having it herself did that, she guessed.

Phoenix eyes the fish custard nervously, never actually having tried it herself before. Yes, kill her now, she had not tried the 11th Doctor's favorite food. Seriously, it was supposed to be a definition of your level of fangirlness and all that. Yet, if you could believe it, they didn't sell custard in the part of London she lived in. Outrage, she knew.

A creek of hinges echoed through the emptiness of the room, making Phoenix glance up. What the hell could it be? Another Dalek? Ha!

Instead, however, stepping through the door that had positively not been there before, was something that scared her beyond words. Standing in that doorway, was someone she had wished she wouldn't have to meet so soon. Yet, she wished it was sooner at the same time. Of course, she had known it would be unavoidable, but yet it was something she had locked deep in her mind, it now bursting back in full force, the lust overwhelming in her head.

Standing in the doorway, with all of his sexy glory, was the Master.

Phoenix slowly stood up, leaving the bowtie, fish custard, and chocolate on the ground. The Master looked, pleased, but behind his eyes was the tiny glimmer of guilt hidden. The one who made her hallucinate? Yeah, probably. Could it be something else? Yeah, probably. Did she want it to be something else? Yeah, probably. Did she want to snog him senseless? Definitely.

The Master and Phoenix stared each other down, neither deciding to speak first. Of course, she knew she would break eventually, while the Master could constantly hold his ground. It was probably a Timelord thing or something like that, but humans could not be serious for long enough. Phoenix was pretty sure she would either burst out laughing or just faint from fangirlness.

Turns out, it was the first one. She randomly just started laughing, backing up to the wall for support as her laughter shook her, hard. The poor Master just looked plain confused. "What are you laughing at?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"I….have…no…idea…." Phoenix choked out, still laughing really hard. Maybe it was him trying to be serious or something, she wasn't sure, all she knew was it was hilarious, whatever it was.

"Although," Phoenix said suddenly, cutting her laughter off abruptly. "Something funnier could take place. Something I've always wanted to do, although you'll probably be extremely mad, or disgusted. Take your pick."

"What?" He questioned, frowning slightly. Phoenix smirked lightly, turning so she was facing the Master directly.

Then, well, she filled her little fangirl heart's desire. She suddenly stood on her tiptoes and snogged him, hard. His lips molded perfectly with hers, and although he did not respond at all out of shock, his lips were sweet all the same. Sparks flew inside her, making her giddy like hell. Although this was not long lived. She abruptly stopped, backing up with wide eyes.

"What?" He questioned again, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't have been that bad at kissing, could he?

"I… I can heard the drums." Phoenix said, holding the sides of her head with wide eyes. That couldn't be possible. The drums. Anything but the drums. She could hear them though, not just in the kiss, constantly in her head. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4.

"I'm…. I'm not insane?" The Master stated, eyes growing wider at this new revelation. "Yes!" He exclaimed, throwing his head back in triumph.

Tears streamed down Phoenix's face, the drumming pumping against her skull, constant pain found with this new item. It was excruitiating, the drums. The never ending drums. "How the hell do you survive this?" Phoenix exclaimed, dropping to her knees.

"You get used to it." The Master replied, waving off her questioned. He was still extremely giddy over the fact he was not insane like so very many people had called him.

Suddenly, she started glowing a brilliant gold. Her eyes widened in fear. She couldn't leave yet! She hadn't gotten rid of the drums! No! This wasn't right! She didn't want them!

The light sucked her into a golden oblivion, taking her away from the only person who could remove the drums, taking her away from her delicious chocolate, bringing her to some unknown adventure where she would have to tackle some monster, taking her somewhere would she would have to just deal with the drums, the Doctor almost certainly unable to help. He couldn't help the Master, so how could he help her?

She appeared on a cold metal floor, sobbing hard as the drums pounded harder against her mind, covering all of her thoughts, distorting every detail of her memory. It was only the drums. Searing pain shot through her body, making her stifle screams too. Her fists clenched tightly, her resolve keeping her from completely screaming at the top of her lungs. It was not as bad as Utah, but again, this was constant.

She heard footsteps, but she didn't stand up. She didn't look up. Truly, she wasn't sure she could even move.

"Phoenix?" A Scottish accent questioned, shaking her shoulder lightly. Okay, so it was Amy. 11th Doctor. Shit, that was bad. He was too caring in situations like this. He would be to frantic, try too much. She wasn't important, who the bloody hell cared if she died of insanity? No one she could think of.

"Phoenix? Phoenix can you hear me? Phoenix?" Amy asked more frantically, worried her friend had gone into some sort of shock or was having a special kind of panic attack.

Phoenix didn't move though. She didn't want to move. The drums refused to let her move, and in turn made her not want to move. The drums and her were connected, any feeling were shared. Well, more like she did what the drums wanted.

"Doctor!" Phoenix heard her red-haired Scottish friend yell into the depths of the Tardis, panic evident in her voice. Amy was extremely worried for her time-jumping friend. She looked absolutely horrible, evidence shown she'd had a pretty bad time wherever she had been before.

She heard running, and glimpsed through her hair to see the Doctor's shoes and trousers standing next to Amy's black heels and rather skinny legs. She wanted to jump up, to hug them both and cry into both their shoulders and tell them everything. But at the same time, she didn't. The stupid drums.

Phoenix felt herself getting picked up like a little kid, which bothered her to no end, but the drums still refused her limbs movement. It was torture, having to watch all of this from scared little eyes as your body refuses to cooperate how you want it to.

She felt herself get laid on a soft bed, which she immediately guessed was in the sick bay. She groaned mentally. She really did hate sick bays.

Finally, the drums granted her movement. She slowly sat up, sliding over to the edge of the bed and watched the Doctor look for something inside a cupboard. When he turned around, he almost dropped everything at the sight of her. She probably looked horrendous, after all the nightmares and hallucinations.

"Phoenix? Are you alright? What happened? Where were you?" The Doctor questioned, quickly running over to her side. He started to frantically worry over her, checking her heartbeat and blood pressure and all of that, which bothered her to no end. She wasn't sure if it was her or the drums that made her do it, but she slapped the Doctor.

"What the hell was that for?" The Doctor exclaimed, moving his jaw around to get it back into place. Phoenix winced slightly, knowing she had hit him pretty hard. But she was really fed up.

"Stop freaking out over me like I'm the most fragile thing in the world! I won't break, I promise!" She exclaimed, a sudden burst of exhaustion flowing in waves going through her, making her lie down on the bed.

The Doctor stared at her sadly. She had no idea at all. He slowly backed away, guilt going through him even though he didn't really do anything wrong. It was probably something from her previous jump. Maybe Midnight, or… he swallowed the lump in his throat… Doomsday, as she had called it before.

Suddenly, Phoenix jerked up and grabbed a syringe next to the bed, holding it to her neck. The Doctor's eyes widened dramatically, panic taking over him, trying to get the syringe out of her hands. But it seemed to Phoenix that the drums made her significantly stronger, as she could hold the Doctor back with her shoe.

She shocked back a sob, tears streaming down her face. He didn't understand them, the drumming. She had it all of thirty minutes and she was already trying to kill herself. Oh, the irony.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor exclaimed, resolving that if he couldn't get the syringe, he was going to talk her out of it.

Sobs racked Phoenix's body, making it harder to explain. She was hardly sure of it herself. But words flowed out of her mouth steadily, shocking herself as well as the Doctor. "The drums, Doctor…. The…. Never ending…. Drums…. They don't stop, ever…. It's horrible…. Doctor…. The drumming….It hurts, it hurts….so…much…help….me…." Phoenix sobbed, holding the syringe closer to her throat, sending a little of the red liquid that was her blood sliding down her skin. The sad part was that it didn't even really hurt.

"Drums?" The Doctor questioned, eyes widening slowly as he remembered her complaining of drums with his 10th self. The never ending drums, just like the Master's. What had he done to her?

"What did he do to you?" The Doctor growled, eyes blazing with anger. He could stand many other things the Master dished out, but this was one step too far.

"Nothing…." Phoenix sob, her guilt sinking lower and lower into a pit of despair, sending the syringe slowly deeper into her throat. "He…didn't….do anything… It…was…me…I did….it…to…myself…."

She slowly dragged the syringe across her throat, the red liquid sliding down her neck and onto her shirt, a much more vibrant red. The needle only stung a little bit, not giving enough pain to satisfy Phoenix. The drums seemed to really enjoy this, pounding louder and harder, making her cry out in anguish. She ran the syringe across her arm, blood streaming onto the bed, staining the white sheets red.

"Stop! What are you doing?" The Doctor exclaimed, reaching for the syringe, trying to make her stop in any way possible. She just looked up at him with such sad eyes, it made him stop struggling abruptly. Those eyes, they hid pain beyond imaginable. Tears glittered in them, making her look even worse than she should be.

"It hurts Doctor." Phoenix said slowly, tearing the needle across the flesh on her other arm. His eyes glanced every few seconds to the syringe, tears building up in his own eyes. "The drumming hurts. This doesn't. The cuts don't hurt. No matter how much I dig into my flesh," She dug the needle harder into her skin as she scraped it across her arm again, making the Doctor cringe. "It just doesn't hurt. It's maddening. I can't feel it. My emotions feel gone. I can't feel any happiness left, the drums just removed everything. Help me, please. Help me."

Phoenix's eyes pleaded for help as she dragged the syringe yet again across her already stained red arms, making the Doctor's tears finally release.

"I can help. Trust me, I can help you. Please. Please, put the syringe down." The Doctor said slowly, scared he was going to set her over the edge again.

She glanced at the syringe, and then her arms, at the many marks she had made on her arms. She held the syringe in her palm, as if trying to decide on what to do. Truthfully, she felt extremely conflicted. The drums were pounding against her skull, calling her to continue, to even go as far as kill herself. But her survival instinct seemed too strong. Still, the drums were putting up a good fight.

"What if I were to kill myself. Would the drumming stop, Doctor?" Phoenix suddenly said softly, holding the syringe over the area her heart was. She obviously knew she really couldn't kill herself, the syringe wasn't long enough for that. But she could get close.

"No!" The Doctor exclaimed frantically, struggling yet again to get the syringe away from her body. He couldn't stand to see her like this, all… broken.

Phoenix slowly moved the syringe away from her heart, glancing at it one last time before throwing it hard across the room, not caring where it landed. She broke into sobs again, going into fetal position. Had she really just tried to kill herself? No! She liked her life, why did the drums have to come and mess everything the fuck up? It wasn't fair! She reminded herself that life wasn't fair. Screw life then.

She slowly peeked at her arms, a gasp emitting from her throat. She had basically torn the flesh up, red streaks where the syringe had scraped across her skin everywhere. Blood was leaking down off of the cuts and onto her clothes and the bed, staining them a bright red of the red liquid. She was horrified with herself, horrified that she had inflicted that onto herself. She was normally very against self harm, but she had just gone and done just that. What the hell was wrong with her?

She felt a pair of warm arms wrapped around her, and she immediately knew it was the Doctor. Only minutes before, she had hated him, but now she welcomed him, taking in all the warmth she could. Cold, so cold.

Soon, she passed out from blood loss, her face turning very pale as more and more blood gushed out of her arms. Suppose she actually did get close to kill herself. The Doctor was very close to hitting himself upside the head for forgetting about the blood. He quickly rushed over the cupboard, pulling out loads of wrap bandages. He quickly wrapped both her arms and her neck, soaking the blood up instead of having it gushing everywhere.

There really wasn't much else to do besides hope that she survived, and didn't die of blood loss. Truly, if she had stabbed right over her heart, she would have died of blood deficiency. The Doctor picked her up in his arms, not really caring that blood got all over his clothes.

Her carried Phoenix to her room, the Tardis being nice and moving it right next to the sick bay. He set her on her bed and tucked her in, staring sadly at her for a few minutes before turning off the light and walking out, a tear finally slipping down his face.

How could he let her do that? She wasn't normally like that, so what had brought that on? The drums? They couldn't be that bad, it was something else she was hiding. What else though?

He resolved to find out as soon as possible, before anything else happened to his precious Phoenix.

Well then. I feel slightly horrified with myself. This chapter... again, was written about 2 in the morning. I really need to stop writing my chapters in the middle of the night.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and all of that... Although, I'm pretty sure no one enjoyed seeing that, but it was a necessary part of the story, you'll see.