Maisie screamed as she saw the approaching mummy—the oncoming omen of death shrouded in layered, beige, rotting bandages.

She couldn't breathe properly, and her panic came up and clenched her heart, fear gripping her insides.

Clara was beyond enraged. How dare the Doctor bring her into this? Into his games? Make her lie and give hope to an innocent girl whose death was inevitable. She couldn't even look at the man.

Maisie felt a presence behind her, but was too terrified to look at anything other than the mummy.

But suddenly there was another person in her view, blocking the fearsome creature.

It was the Doctor.

The Doctor tried not to ignore Clara's eyerolls at him, and instead brought the energy instrument up and in front of Maisie's face.

"Focus!" he told her, realizing he needed to listen as well, try to ignore Clara's incessant lack of understanding, her refusal to admit that what he did was save people—no matter the cost or the processes it took.

Maisie was still distracted, terrified. The Doctor said again,"Focus! focus!"

Her eyes moved with extreme effort to face him instead of the creature.

"What's that?" she said uncertainly.

The instrument was blinking blue.

"All of that," the Doctor explained hurriedly, "is your grief, your trauma, your resentment."

Maisie still didn't understand. The Doctor clicked the remote.

"And now, it's mine!" and held it to his head, pressing the button. He gave a little gasp as the energy transfer began. He flinched and screwed his eyes shut, pressing his hand to his temple and stumbling back. Bright, clear beams moved their way up and down his face and his skin, transferring the energy from Maisie into him.

"Doctor!" Clara shouted. "What've you done?"

He waved her off, his other hand still clenched to his head, leaning against the counter.

He gave a short, gruff groan.

"Just gimme a minute."

"It's gone!" Maisie said, relieved.

The Doctor snorted. "No it's not. Because now it thinks I'm you."

Clara shook her head. "Now what are you gonna do? You can't stop it!"

The Doctor snorted again, still hunched over as the light beams left his skin, the transference complete, the pain still there. Of course now Clara would be worried about him.

It's all selfish selfish selfish doctor until something happens, isn't it? He thought. His head pulsed, his entire brain feeling squished and pummeled.

The Doctor stood up straight again, eyes strained, face paler than usual. His fierce eyebrows were raised, and he glanced at Clara. "Thanks for the confidence."

Suddenly the lights blinked and the Doctor looked up.

It was beginning again.

"Start the clock!" he said to Perkins, grinning at the engineer. The Doctor, suddenly excited for what was about to happen, tried his best to keep the oncoming sharp stabs of pain in his head at bay. He knew taking that girl's mental state wasn't going to be fun.

He grimaced and his hand flew to his forehead again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Doctor," Clara started uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

"I can do this," he said quietly, not really to anyone else in the room but to himself, it seemed.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he turned.

There it was.

He squinted his eyes again, the bushy mad eyebrows coming to a point and making him look vicious. He was in pain, though.

He stepped forward, ignoring the distractions as best he could, ready to meet his match.

Stay tuned for chapter 2! Thanks for reading.