It took a moment for Martina's brain cells to put two and two together. Thankfully, after the initial shock and confusion died down, she was finally able to articulate herself.

Though she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"So, uh, let me get this straight. You're gonna put yourself out there, let it get in your head, make some monster or something out of whatever's in there, and pray to God that somehow you don't get yourself killed?"

"That's about the short of it." The Doctor didn't bat an eye. He didn't even seem scared. But it wasn't reckless bravado or stupidity that was egging him on. Particularly with how calmly he carried himself. And how almost apathetic he occasionally seemed to be. Part of it may have been necessity. Maybe he thought this was the only way. Or maybe he didn't want to risk scaring her by letting himself get scared as well.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

"But, but you saw what happened back there! It turned into something out of a Cronenburg movie or Friday the 13th! It pulled it straight out of my mind and then tried to kill us! What makes you think it won't do the same thing to you?!"

"Oh, I expect it to. In fact, I imagine whatever it conjures up will be a thousand times worse."

God, was he even listening to himself?! And what was this crap about a thousand times worse? Was he the Prince of Darkness or something? "So not only do you know you have issues - which, by the way, I'm totally starting to see — and not only are they so bad they could, I don't know, destroy the city maybe?"

"That about sums it up, yes."

Oh, good. At least he was honest. "Okay, sure, glad we got that out of the way. So not only is it all of that, but you're deliberately trying to get that thing to bring them out?"

"What I'm trying to do is save your life and everyone else's in this city. Maybe everyone on this Godforsaken planet. And the only way to do that is by giving it what it wants. So far I've kept my own thoughts protected, kept anyone from just looking in, but if I open them up just a titch..."

"...then it'll come right over and kill us. Real genius material right there. Top of the class for sure."

But as much as Martina may have been bemused, the Doctor wasn't laughing. He took a step towards her. A slow, forceful step, his foot pounding down on the pavement like a gavel. "Do you think this is funny? Do you think I wouldn't have done anything else if I could?"

Okay, starting to get a bit in-your-face there. She took a step back, holding out as her hands as she tried to back away. Something was telling her she was pushing buttons that maybe she shouldn't have pushed. "Hey, look, didn't mean to upset you, okay? Just, I don't see why you need to go putting yourself out there, you know?"

The Doctor seemed about to take another step, but he pulled himself back. He breathed deep, muttering the same mantra or whatever from earlier. "Be kind, be kind, be kind…" Like he had to constantly remind himself to be a decent human being.

Just what was his deal?

"Sorry. Again. But as I said, we need to draw it out. And then we need to overpower it into submission. This is the only way to do either of those things."

To be fair, he had a point. She didn't like it, but he had a point. Maybe it was dangerous, perhaps reckless. Maybe it bordered on suicide. But they didn't have a lot of options. Well, probably. "I mean, can't we just shoot it?"

His eye started twitching like he was having a spasm. Was it something she said? "We will not 'just shoot it!' The first response to dealing with another life form is never 'just shoot it!" Do I make myself perfectly clear?!"

"Okay, yeah, clear! Crystal!" Jeezus! She guessed he had a real grudge against guns. Or perhaps it was deeper than that. Maybe he just didn't like wounding or maiming anyone out of principal?

He calmed down a bit, adjusting the trim of his coat. Though he was still a tad miffed. "Thank you. Though even then, it's not like it would work. Send it five rounds rapid and it'll pass right through. Maybe if I had more time, more resources, I could think of something better. Maybe if I was the one with the umbrella and the spoons. He would've thought of something. But I don't and I'm not. So this will have to do."

There had to be another way. Something that didn't put him at risk. That put everyone at risk. But what if he was right? What if there wasn't another way? What if this was the only chance they had?

Regardless, their hands were soon forced. The screams from around the corner reached a fever pitch, like pure chaos and pandemonium. "No time! Come on!" They rushed around the bend, hoping that whatever was awaiting them, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as they thought.

They were wrong. In spectacular fashion.

All down the street they could see a throng of civilian's running about screaming like chickens with their heads cut off, all rushing from one surreal horror or another. htZombiehoug nazis were gunning people down left and right. Shadows resembling men in dark coats were smothering people, until they became shadows in turn. Floating mirrors flew about and forced themselves down on unsuspecting victims, trapping them within their confines until they were the reflection looking back. Dinosaurs, apes on grapes and more ran and flew down the blocs like something from a David Lynch movie. As such, Martina wasn't sure whether she should have gotten a drink or if she were drunk off her ass already.

It was horrific. Absolutely amazing and fantastic in a morbid sort of way, but horrific all the same. Like a trainwreck you couldn't watch, but couldn't look away from.

She didn't know what to do. How were you supposed to fight something like that? She wanted to help. Wanted to do anything to save all those people. But it was too much. Just too much. At least for her.

But the Doctor was a different story.

He observed the mayhem, calmly and rationally. If there was a hint of fear or concern, he didn't let it show. He walked up to Martina, making sure he had her attention. "Listen to me, Martina. If this goes wrong, I need you to make me a promise. Don't let me give in."

Uh, what now? Was he expecting to fail? She knew this plan was bad, but she didn't think it was that bad. "I thought you said—"

He raised a finger to his lips, hushing her like she were a petulant child. "Please."

And that was when she knew. It was like he said. He knew this was a bad plan. That there wasn't a guarantee it would work. That it might make things worse.

But it was all they had.

"Okay."

And with that, the promise was made. "Thank you." With few options remaining, the Doctor made his choice. Or whatever choice was left to make. He strode forward, walking past the fleeing civilians until he was a good distance away from Martina. He put his hands to his temples like he was projecting some sort of tremendous force. Or concentrating really really hard. Whatever it was, she couldn't feel it. Nor did she know if whatever he was doing did a damn.

But the creature certainly knew.

Suddenly, all the nazis, the mirrors, and everything disappeared. In their place was a massive black hole. It opened up over the city, sucking everything towards it like a giant vacuum. Of course, she knew what a black hole was. And she also knew that a real black hole would make this pale imitation wet its crib. Not that it was anything to sneeze at it. It was drawing in everything not nailed to the ground. Receipts, plastic bags, water bottles and more were flying up towards it like being pulled into a tornado. She had to pull down her shirt to keep it from being lifted up by the wind. Even her hair was floating towards it. But so far, that was the extent of it.

Though she didn't want to see what would happen if it got worse.

More importantly, this was it, wasn't it? This was the Doctor's darkest thoughts. A black hole swallowing everything in its' path. She couldn't fathom what it would take for someone to have something of that magnitude lurking within their subconscious. An existential sense of dread, perhaps? A crushing sense of depression? Following in the shoes of Nietzsche and believing everything was utterly meaningless?

But as always, the truth was far stranger than fiction.

Whatever the case, the Doctor needed to put his money where his mouth was. He loosened his collar, cricking his neck like getting ready for a beatdown. He lifted up his arms before letting them fall limp. Almost as giving up. But any thoughts as to whether or not that was his intention were shattered the moment he glared back at the black hole with a gaze that could burn through time and space itself.

"Look at you. A great big lump of mass, all set to murder anyone in your path because you want a meal. You don't even want to kill anyone, do you? Not that you care. They're just in your way. Like gnats on a windshield. You do what you do because it's the only thing you know. Reach into someone's subconsciouses, bring out their fears, let it run amok, then feed on it. Like an object in motion."

The black hole didn't show any signs of slowing, but neither was it speeding up. For the moment, the Doctor had its attention. "I'm the same way, you know. Obviously, I'm not a creature of imagination bringing chaos and death. Though I've certainly had my fair share. Which is ironic when you think about it. For most of my life, I've tried to do one thing and one thing only. Actually a lot of things, but that's one of the few that stand out. 'Be kind'. That itself is a loaded statement, but I've strived to upload it as best I've could. Or I did. Back when it meant something."

Slowly, the black hole began picking up steam. Tables and stools inched towards it. Papers, wrappers, and numerous other small objects were soaring towards the hole like being blown away in reverse. And all the while, the Doctor just kept talking to it like he was having a friendly chat.

Or until he wasn't. His voice trembled and shooked. His fists clenched tight. And his once empty eyes were filled with a sheer sense of sorrow that she had only seen in bad soaps. And perhaps with just a small hint of fury.

"Of course, now it doesn't seem to matter. Every time I save someone, every time I try to help, I lose someone instead. Perhaps it's someone I tried to save. Other times, it's someone who helped me. Sometimes it's a friend. A companion. But I lose them all the same. Funny thing is, it's the only thing that feels real. Particularly when everything else bounces back and forth like a yoyo."

Suddenly he raised his voice, shouting at the black hole regardless of whether or not it cared. Not that it did. "It's like checking off a calendar. Monday, my world is sitting high in the sky. Tuesday, it's blown to pieces. Wednesday, it's back again. Thursday, it's once more blown sky high! And Friday, as if putting the cherry on top, my planet may not even be my planet! Since then, it's only gotten worse. One day it's there, the next it's not, the next it's a giant diamond and then a giant cheeseburger or a toaster or whatever else, and then they tell me I'm part Silurian! Not that I am, but I wouldn't be surprised."

Despite the Doctor's flippant remarks, the frustration and consternation in his voice were palpable. And slightly unnerving.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is, it just doesn't matter anymore. None of it. I'm not even sure I remember most of it. Oh, I remember the gist. The general idea of it. Those photos you see in a scrapbook. But the little things? Like the smell of a rose. How it felt seeing the wonders of the Bersusa Cascade for the first time. Or just sharing a drink with a friend. I've been at this so long, everything going back and forth so many times that most of it blends together like a smoothie. And it's gotten to the point where I'm not sure why I'm doing this anymore. I know what it is I do. And I know it's what I've always done. But God help me if I can't see why."

The blackhole further picked up intensity. Martina could feel herself being pulled towards it, her feet starting to lift off the ground as her hair floated in mid-air. Almost like being underwater. And it wasn't showing any signs of stopping. She grabbed hold of the nearest streetlamp, desperate not to be sucked away. She wasn't sure what the Doctor was doing anymore, but she did know that he had to stop! Or else they'd all be swirling around inside that thing like being flushed down a toilet.

"Doc! Snap out of it! Or see a therapist or something, I don't know! But you've gotta stop or we're all gonna be cosmic spaghetti! You can't just give in! Cause if you do, I'll come back and haunt your dreams like Freddy Krueger! Complete with exploding bed! You got that?!"

Something in the Doctor's eyes began to stir. Perhaps it was something she said. Perhaps seeing her in mortal peril convinced him to get his act together. Or perhaps he was having a case of diarrhoea.

Wouldn't be too out of left field.

"But I do know one thing." His voice deepened. His stance straightened and his legs bent forward. As though he remembered something he had long forgotten. 'Never give up. Never give in.' I almost forgot that one. I'm still not sure what it means. Not exactly. Or at least why I came up with it. But I think it's self-explanatory."

The black hole's strength began to lessen. The suctioning slowed, bringing Martina and everyone else back down to Earth. She wasn't sure if what she said had meant a damn, but obviously something was working.

"Even if I don't know why, there are still three things - not just one, but three - that I have always done. Never give up. Never give in! And always be kind. Maybe I'm not sure why I do them anymore, but I still do them! Because it's all I've got! And because I don't want to lose anyone else! Because the loss? That's what I remember. That's what sticks. And it hurts. It hurts so much. So I never want to lose anyone again! And maybe, if I can at least save someone here today, then I'll have something to be happy about."

The black hole continued to lose momentum. The papers and envelopes floated to the ground, even as the hole quivered and quaked. "So don't you dare mess with me or anyone else, because I! Will! End you!"

As the Doctor pushed forward, the black hole was pushed back. It bent backwards and forwards, to and fro, swishing about and twisting inwards until at last, it ruptured. And in a flash of white light, it was over. It melted to the ground like black vomit, fading away like drying out in the sun until all that was left was a small white ball at the centre. It sat on the ground, white particles floating upwards as it sagged. Almost deflated. Despite everything it had done, it was almost pitiable.

Or at least it would be if it hadn't slaughtered or tortured God knows how many people because it was hungry.

Whipping out his screwdriver, the Doctor slammed down the button with his thumb, sucking in the creature like a vacuum. The screwdriver was filled to bursting with a bright white light, glowing like a nightlight. She wasn't sure how it worked. In fact, she wasn't sure how any of this worked. But, barring any sort of Godforsaken catastrophe, it was over.

Oh please oh please oh PLEASE let it be over, she thought.

She walked over to the Doctor. Part of her wondered if he'd rather be left alone. After all that baggage he unloaded, she wouldn't blame him. Probably didn't want anyone else to hear it. But for some reason, she couldn't let him be alone. Or maybe, after all this, she was the one who couldn't bear to be alone.

They were both gonna need some serious therapy, obviously.