Chapter 2: Desperate Measures
Opening their minds, the Doctor and Clara faced the ghosts. Their images became clearer, no longer transparent. The Ergellian closest to them extended a scaly yellow talon in their direction like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. Despair was evident on his face. "Please," he spoke in a trembling voice. "Doctor, save us. We were told you could help us."
The Doctor stood his ground, unsure if the spirits were friendly. "What happened?" he asked, pointing back into the direction of the cleanroom with his thumb.
"A virus escaped from a lab and wiped out our entire planet in a matter of days," the Ergellian mulled solemnly. "All evacuations failed. There was just no time."
"My comrades and I," he motioned to the others behind him, "unable to find a cure, attempted to save our lives, and our race, by freezing ourselves in these experimental cryotubes. Extreme temperatures kill the virus."
"It worked, the virus is extinct," the shimmering apparition said with no joy in his voice. "But so is everyone else. We are the last of our species."
"But something went wrong," the Doctor held out his sonic screwdriver. "I scanned you. Your cells–"
"We know," the Ergellian remorsed. "If we thaw, we die." Reaching out to the side, he stroked the sealed pod where his body stood frozen. "We can never leave these tubes."
"What's your name?" Clara asked softly. She felt bad for the feathered beings. They were so desperate to survive that they had accidentally doomed themselves to an eternity of icy imprisonment. Nobody deserved a fate like that.
"My name is Axious Kaj," he placed a clawed hand over his plumaged chest, "lead scientist of this facility."
He pointed back towards the lineup of chambers. "These cryotubes were never meant to house people, only to store frozen specimens. We tried to retrofit them, but obviously we were unsuccessful." Meeting the Doctor's gaze, the feathery man pleaded for his life. "Please help us. We are the last of our kind."
The Doctor squeezed Clara's hand, silently asking for guidance. He had no flashcards for this situation. There was no good way to tell them that they were doomed. He dropped his head in shame. He knew something about being the last of a species. He had never felt so helpless.
Raising his head with a long sigh, he looked the Ergellians in the eyes, the hopeful look on their faces cutting him to the core. "I'm sorry," he shifted uncomfortably. "There's nothing I can do. The damage has already been done."
"Legend says you can travel in time," Axious pressed, undeterred. His voice took on an anguished note. "I beg you, go back in time. Prevent this from happening. Save my people."
Every now and then, the Doctor could save somebody, so long as their death was not a fixed point in time, but an entire planet was out of the question. The ramifications of meddling with fate in such a major way could shatter the web of time itself. As much as he wanted to help, his hands were tied.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, frowning sympathetically. "But I can't."
"Then you can help us in another way," the scientist resolved. A dark look flashed across the psychic projection of his face.
Before either of them had a chance to react, the ghosts vanished. A blinding white light seared into the Doctor's brain. Hot and brilliant, it burned everything it touched, forcing its way into his mind.
The Doctor screamed, clutching his temples. He collapsed to his knees, grimacing against the mental onslaught. Caught off-guard, the invaders were quickly overpowering him. He breathed hard in barely-controlled panic. The ghosts were trying to take over his body, and winning.
Their angry red tendrils swirled and grasped around the golden stream of his consciousness, choking it like a vice. Losing control of his own body, the Doctor found himself unable to stand up. His legs buzzed like they were full of static, not listening to his commands. A chill stabbed through his bones, sharp and freezing like a knife.
He scrunched his eyes shut, focusing hard on locating the intruders. Rage blazed in his hearts like a wildfire. He had answered their call for help and this is how they repaid him. He honed in, identifying four spirits against the dark.
Conjuring up every ounce of psychic power he had, he grit his teeth. With a shout loud enough to echo, he flooded his mind with pure fury. Golden light exploded vividly in his mind, drowning out the white. The emotion scorched through the tendrils, hot and overpowering. They recoiled as if in pain, jerking away.
One by one, the intruders backed off, slinking out like cowardly snakes. The Doctor panted harshly, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. The Ergellians were far more powerful than he had realized. Slowly, feeling returned to his body, nerves buzzing as if they had been electrocuted.
Squinting cautiously, he discovered himself crumpled on the hard concrete floor. The rough surface bit into his skin painfully. Bracing himself with a hand, he managed to sit up.
Lifting his gaze blearily, he saw no sign of the psychic figures. The room was silent except for the constant droning of the cryotubes. There was nothing else to see other than the fog his breath created in the chilly air.
Clara. Where was Clara?
In a panic, the Doctor whirled around. To his horror, Clara Oswald's body laid next to him, motionless. His eyebrows shot up in alarm. If the ghosts were not in the room, there was only one other place they could be.
His stomach dropped to his feet. As a human, Clara had no psychic defenses like he did. He knew she would not be able to handle a mental hijacking of this magnitude. It would kill her.
"Clara!" he cried, terrified. He couldn't lose her. Diving to her side, he gently turned her head towards him. Warm red blood dribbled from her nose and the corner of her eyes. Her skin was cold, like ice. All the color had vanished from her face, leaving her looking almost as ghostly as her attackers.
He jammed his fingers into the side of her sweaty neck, nearly sobbing in relief when he found that a pulse was still there, rapid and thready. She was still alive.
Pressing his fingers to her temples, he closed his eyes and dove into her mind. Normally he would never do such a thing without permission, but desperate measures called for it. The scene inside was chaos. The red tendrils streamed over her spirit like ribbons, tying themselves in knots. Like greedy vampires, they leeched life from her very soul. With every new ligature, the light dimmed from her spirit.
"Let her go!" the Doctor yelled, frantic with worry. He knew he had to reason with them or she wouldn't stand a chance. "You can't use her anyway, she'll die before you gain control!"
The ghosts ignored him, doubling down on their offense. Clara only had minutes left, at best, if this attack did not stop.
Charging forwards with a roar, the Doctor latched onto the coils, ripping them away with his bare hands. They climbed up his arms like vines, stabbing into him. The pain only enraged him further. Adrenaline kicked him into high gear, intensifying his attack.
With every thread he tore away, a new one replaced it. Dread set into his bones like a cancer. He could slow them down, but with no mental shields, Clara was completely defenseless. Despite his efforts, he quickly realized that fighting back was futile.
"Please!" he shouted into the void. There was only one way to save her. A choice he made instantly. "Take me instead!" he cried. "I'm the one you want!"
The scarlet wraiths halted, twisting into his direction. The Doctor's hearts leapt, he had gotten their attention.
"I'll let you in," he offered himself up, determination on his face. "I can handle it. I won't fight back," he raised his hands in surrender, "if you just let her go. She's useless to you anyway, look at her!" He pointed to her weakly glowing spirit, "she's dying!"
One of the ghosts approached him. In a flash of vermillion light, it took the form of Axious to communicate with him. "You would willingly sacrifice yourself for this pathetic human?"
The Doctor growled, rising to his full height. "A billion times over," he seethed, meaning every word. A universe without Clara Oswald was not one worth living in. His hearts ached for her. They beat solely for her, because of her. She had sacrificed herself for him so many times. He owed it to her.
"Whatever you plan to use my body for," he snarled through bared teeth, "I won't fight it. Just let her go."
"Yes," Axious mused, fingers drumming against his beaked chin. "I saw into your mind. You love this human."
"I–" the Doctor stammered, cheeks flushing furiously. "Yes," he conceded. "Then you know my word is my bond. You know I would do anything to ensure her safety." He had never admitted his feelings to himself before, but it was true. He would die for her.
"Very well," the Ergellian nodded. "We accept your offer. No resistance, or she dies."
With that, the spirits released her, swirling around her unconscious mind but no longer constricting. They darted towards the Doctor hungrily.
The Doctor set his jaw, preparing himself for the pain to come. He did not take what he had just agreed to lightly. He was about to go through hell, but he didn't care. None of that mattered.
Now free, Clara's spirit grew brighter by the moment. He slumped his shoulders, relieved. She should be alright, given some time to recover. Closing his eyes, the Doctor outstretched his arms, welcoming his new captors in.
The ghosts reared back like a cobra, ready to strike. Lunging forwards, they pierced the Doctor's chest. Gasping, he doubled over like he'd been punched in the stomach. He fought for breath, the wind knocked from his lungs.
The blinding white light from before returned, starting as a pinprick and intensifying until it took up his entire field of vision. Fire crackled through his veins, causing every muscle it touched to spasm. He arched his back, his face contorted in a silent scream.
Losing all feeling in his limbs, his knees buckled beneath him. He dropped to the ground in a heap, unable to break his fall. Hitting his head on the cement, stars exploded behind his eyes. His vision doubled, then quadrupled. Vertigo and nausea gripped him like a vice, bile rising in his throat. Colors and irregular shapes swirled around him.
And then there was darkness, enveloping him in its merciful embrace. With a final shudder, the Doctor passed out.
A/N: Oh they're in trouble now. Don't forget to review!