Chapter 59 - The God Complex, Part 2

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Lyssa staggered back from the room, hand clasped over her mouth. Surely that couldn't be - she wouldn't - that couldn't be her, could it? Cold and hateful, casting off all loyalties and falling so far down that the Doctor had to destroy Gallifrey to save the universe from the Daleks - and her.

It couldn't be her.

Could it?

But the woman had looked so similar to her, just with blonder hair and perhaps minor changes that could occur over time, that she didn't see how it could be anyone but her. Hadn't the Doctor mentioned that there would be physical changes from the Time Vortex running through her body? 

If enough of them happened over time... could it be possible that enough of her changed that there was nothing left of the original her? To the point that she no longer cared about lost lives, that she tried to take them instead? 

No. That couldn't be her. She wouldn't let it happen. The Doctor wouldn't let it happen to her. He'd stop her, save her from herself if that's what needed to happen. He would save her, she knew he would, he -

Praise him.

The words flashed, unbidden, into her mind, wiping all her fears away for a single second before they returned again, worse than before. 

No. No

It had begun. She'd been infected, and it would slowly take over her to the point that she would willingly accept her death, even welcome it.

Except, if that woman was her, wouldn't it be better for her to die before she reached that point? To never become whatever it was she was? Maybe it was better this way. Maybe she should just wait for the creature to find her. Maybe he was doing her a kindness.

She shook herself free of that particular trail of thought. If there was anything she'd learned from the Doctor, it was that there was always hope, and that you should never give up, never give in. Even - or especially - if you had an alien entity trying to rewrite your brain.

Maybe there was some way out of this she just hadn't thought of yet. If she just focused on that instead, she wouldn't be able to think about her fears or give into them. Maybe that was the way to stop the creature? Not to think about her fears?

She needed to find the Doctor. He would know how to fix this. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes, smoothed down her wrinkled pantsuit as best as she could, and shut the door to her room, feeling the eyes of the War Doctor on her as she did so. 

Something seemed to unclench inside of her once the door was shut, and she relaxed minutely. Now that she could no longer see inside the room, it didn't seem as overwhelming. She could focus now. She could find the Doctor, and he would be able to help her.

Pushing her loose hair behind her ears, she set off for the dining room, hoping it would be in the same place as last time. The others would eventually regroup there, she knew, so sooner or later she should meet up with them.

She stopped abruptly. 

She knew the others would return to the room eventually. None of them had mentioned returning when they left, so why did she know so assuredly? Biting her lip, her gaze fell down to the ground. 

Everything was still so foggy she felt like she needed a fan in her head to clear away the mist shrouding everything. But this whole setup seemed so familiar, if she could just remember why.

Her hand brushed against her pocket and bumped something hard. Frowning down at it, she dipped her hand inside experimentally. Pulling out her journal, she stared at it in consternation. It hadn't been there during the trip to the bank, she knew that for sure, because she'd searched for it several times, hoping for any sort of tip on figuring out what was going on. And she knew she hadn't put it in her pocket before she fell asleep, either. So how did it get in there?

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