Hymn to the Fallen

Mal started her struggle the second the Doctor touched her. The cursing never stopped and, in fact, turned up on the vulgar scale. He was right in one aspect and that was that Vincent didn't attack. Instead, the purple abomination hovered beside the two intermingled being as he waited for an opportunity to assist. It wasn't that he wouldn't touch them and separate them, but he was unsure as to if Mal would appreciate that or not considering his unfortunate ability.

The syringe. All Mal needed was that blissful syringe and everything would be better. Her fighting could go on with less pain in her body. The Doctor's words were coming in loud and clear but she hated them, hated him even, and hardly hesitated to tell him just that, "Are you really naive enough to believe I'm not doing this because I want to? Doctor, get your little fantasy in check because the truth is I enjoy this all! Screw you! I'm hardly weak, hardly useless, and if you let me go I'll show you just how squishy I am. Shut up about that stupid fish. Do you honestly think I care? Doctor, you fool, you absolute fool. I said let. me. go!"

There were a handful of things Mal could do in this situation but the majority of them would result in her harm. Well, there was nothing she felt she couldn't handle but it would be best if she left those to the end. So she turned her head and did the one thing she wasn't sure what the outcome would be.. she bit the Doctor in the neck.

"She's gone, Doctor, I was stupid in the past, unwise and uneducated on what I am truly capable of." Mal had finally released his neck but she was still fuming. "You aren't here, you can't be helping me... you're killing me! Now let me go, let me go and I'll be alright. Stop your pointless words and unhand me! No amount of pleas, repetition, and reminiscing will bring back the past! It's gone, lost, out of the way for the future of my throne! Now let go! "

She bit her bottom lip fairly hard, her body was shaking and aching, it was jittery. Well fine, if he didn't want to cooperate... Mal let the power start to form in the front of her mind, her body crying out in protest to the prepping discharge. But she kept going, gritting her teeth to increase teh magnitude. "Weak, hardly." With a cry, she released the bottled energy and split the two part from each other, sending each flying to opposite ends of the street.

Mal landed with a grunt and could barely move, her muscles were having multiple, uncontrolled spasms that ceased and clenched and caused her to stifle sobs. Damn, that wasn't cool. The purple in her veins had darkened and spread through the rest of her body, becoming visible in her face. Despite the spasms, she tried to reach into her jacket for that damned needle. Fingers barely able to grasp it, she dragged it out only to have to drop to the ground. Her swears became desperate pleas for her bloody body to cooperate as her fingers worked to retrieve the fluid filled tube. All she needed was one damn injection.

"No! No, I need that! I need it, you fool! Give that back, give it back!" Mal's cries weren't as loud or demanding as they had been just moments before. They were more desperate, cries rather than commands. Her body tensed when she was tensed, nerves screaming in protest as the Doctor slung her over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes. She felt useless, helpless, like nothing and that only fuelled her rage.

Vincent was following, disturbed and unsure of what to do so he simply followed. Even when the two entered the TARDIS he simply stood by the blue box and waited.

Mal was dropped like a dead weight and she choked on a cry when the sharp pain shot through her body and lingered for a terribly long time. She twitched and rolled, groaning and coughing as she tried to breathe and calm herself. The vial, she needed it and he had it. Mal glared at the Doctor's motionless body as she began to claw her way over to him, determined. "You, you're killing me by denying me what's mine, you know that? That makes you a murderer... "

Robin paced back and forth, practically ripping her hair out of her skull. She was freaking locked in here while the Doctor was out there trying to help. And Mal was out there! And she wasn't allowed to do a single bloody thing! Why in the universe did the Doctor think deadlocking the door was a good idea?! Even if she did have to go for help, she couldn't get out because it was bloody locked!

Rushing back into the console room, she was about ready to push the button anyway when her eyes fell on the frankly terrifying sight before her. It only took a moment to register that she needed to do something, and of course, she dashed over to try and help as much as she could. Mal was reaching for something. The Doctor was unconscious. And that was bad. Her first instinct was to find the thing Mal was trying to get, not exactly spotting the thing but thinking that getting in her way was good enough. Crouching down in front of her, she gripped her wrists and glared at her face, trying to think of something she could even say to this woman. This filthy, rotten woman who had ruined oh so many things. Yet all she could manage was a simple, 'Stop.'

You think this is going to help? You think this is going to change anything? It changed nothing! This is only a small obstic- gah!" Mal had been walking since, well, what choice did she have? Her people were locked outside and wouldn't be able to call them even if she wanted to. Well, the walking had just become a problem the moment her body ceased. She dropped again, back arched rigidly and jaw clenched as pain shot through her. It slowly eased off enough for her to breathe and continue the trek to the med bay. Her breath was already laboured, sweat drenching her face and Mal simply quit when the second round of pain hit. She cried out, knees giving out so she hung off the Doctor.

"Do something, do something you stupid wrench. The syringe.. you need it." She muttered to herself but simply couldn't find the fight in her to go for it. Damn it, was this how she was going to let this end? Both the Doctor's hearts were beating, her people were currently in London winning a battle she should be bearing witness too, and Robin was here, that poor sweet girl Mal should have shocked into a nice crisp when she had the chance. A low groan escaped her until it cut off into a strangled cry. Oh, this was going to be fun, wasn't it?

"No! No... no.. no, you can't do this... "

Robin let go as soon as the Doctor mentioned her ability to shock her. When did that happen? Seriously, she knew she had gotten 'stronger' in the future but that was a bit ridiculous. Then again, so was his sudden, gasping-to-life revival. And just about everything on the TARDIS. Shaking her head, she got to her feet and followed along, nodding as the Doctor requested cloth and a bucket. Whatever he needed that for... Not one to argue at the moment, she dashed off towards the kitchen, seeing no cloths on the way since they were in the bloody hallway, the one place she needed to go without cloth. The second she burst in the doors, she spotted the bucket and quickly retrieved it, grabbing all the dish towels she could find and shoving them inside before running back with it tucked under her arm, eyes searching for any bit of fabric she may have missed. Goody for her, she returned just in time to see Mal's breakdown, nearly dropping the heavy tub. 'D-Doctor, what's going on?' Her eyes flickered from the Time Lord to the Overlord, a tad bit nervous of what was happening, and more importantly, why.

Mal was laying on the cot, rolling around and gasping as she tried to concentrate on suppressing the pain. "Robin.. Robin I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry I shot you. But look, i-it would be v-very sweet if you just.. got that damn syringe, okay? I-I'm dying and you're allowing it by just standing there. You don't want to swing to my level, d-do you? You don't want to have blood on your hands. My blood on your hands. I need. that. syringe!"

She coughed, groaning and choking back a sob as her muscles clenched again. This round was worse, causing her to snatch her head in her hands and blubber incoherently. Oh, bloody hell, this was an ungraceful way to go, that was for sure.

Robin rushed over to the sink to fill the tub, already having had given the cloths to the Doctor, but stopped to look up at Mal. Her words. The first bit, that didn't matter. She wasn't sorry for shooting her and she knew that, she just wanted to live. But having her blood on her hands. Her dying because she wouldn't help. It send a pang of guilt through her heart and she eyed the Doctor's pocket nervously trying to decide which was right and which was wrong. But when was the Doctor ever wrong? He told her not to listen, so that's what she had to do, no matter how upset it made her. Ducking her head down, she turned to fill the container. A few seconds later and she was by the Time Lord's side, eyes flickering from the dying Mal to his pocket, her heart absolutely sinking. So what if the woman was practically her worst enemy? She didn't want to let her die, and it bloody hurt. She ducked her head down once more, trying to distract herself by whatever she could because she knew she could not just let her die.

"Ahhhh!" Mal kicked out and cringed, swore and finally went silent, her body tense and quivering as she simply laid there. The moment of ragged, but calm breathing was short lived as she began to cough. The sound was hacking, wet, painful, and she convulsed as the spasms continued. Each cough won over a desperate gasp to catch her breath though the struggle was difficult. Soon enough, the woman had blood trickling from her mouth. Talking was a pointless task that would just throw away much needed energy, so she kept her mouth shut as she fought the feeling of utter sickness and foreboding outcomes. This wasn't good, or fun, and the painful tightening of her legs wasn't helping change her opinion on the matter either.

Robin bit her lip, cringing as she heard the struggling noises of Mal while the Doctor explained the situation. It didn't matter that there was something inside her. She was still dying. Then Mal's noises stopped, followed by the clinking of glass behind her. What happened? Glancing up, she had to cover her mouth with one hand to avoid gasping at the sight! She was choking up blood! Hadn't she heard somewhere that once blood was coming out of their mouth, they were done for? No! No way, Mal was not going to die here. Not like this. Taking the rags off of Mal, she decided to try to help by dunking them back in the tub with fresher, colder water before laying them back across her skin. 'M-Mal, we aren't gonna let you die okay? We won't let you die..' That was a lie if there ever was one, because to be honest, she had no clue if she'd make it or not.

Nodding her head, Robin finished setting a rag down gently before rushing off towards the console room, desperately searching for the box the Doctor was talking about. Much easier to just take the whole box, wasn't it? Once she spotted the rather large wooden crate under the console, she realized she was meant to open it for a reason. Rolling her eyes, she crouched down next to it and lifted an end up - finding it to be surprisingly light - and reading off the code to try and memorize it so she wouldn't have to keep looking back and forth. Nodding to herself, her shaky, nervous hands tried to put in the combination, messing up more than a few times before finally getting it open to see nothing but a small glass bottle in the bottom. Well that was a bit elaborate for such a small thing, wasn't it? Then again, with all the logic going on in this ship, it was probably like the most valuable substance in the universe or something.

Snatching the vile from the crate, she got to her feet - hitting her head on the console first - before rushing back towards the Med Bay, setting it on the counter near the Doctor and catching her breath.

Robin gulped, not liking the Doctor's explanation one bit. Poor woman, the thing was bloody killing her and what was he even doing about it? This, she guessed, but it didn't sound like it would be helpful at all, much less pleasant. Moving back over to Mal, she realized she wasn't going to be able to hold her down with only two hands to force 4 limbs down. Hands would probably be most helpful out of the way, though, so she went for her wrists with a nervous sigh, glancing over at the Doctor and waiting for him to administer the drug.

((This is why i wanted you to go first -.-))

Mal groaned as she tried to find a word of protest to give to either of them to stop and simply give her the syringe she had wanted and needed since the start. But, of course, she remained verbally inept and could only cough and grunt. As Robin held down her wrists, Mal hissed at the girl in a form of intimidation. It was hard to admit even contact like this sent her skin aflame.

She could feel the needle slide into her arm, felt the fluid creep into her system like a maelstorm of fire and ice, unsure of which temperature extremity to be. The scream that forced itself out of the woman now writhing beneath the redhead was no less than frightening. It reflected the sound of someone who was bearing more than she was capable of bearing and she only felt this way because of the Doctor. That cursed man and his stupid helping had done no good for her. Scorching, dying, invasive agony had spread throughout her limbs and all she was left to do was sob.

The blood from her mouth was still flowing over, straining her clothes and the cot, and Mal hissed again before hacking away. She hacked and hacked, jerking against her restraints but found her body far too weak to get anywhere. Mal laid back against the cot for what she thought was the last time in her life when a clump, assumingly a clot, was spat out. It landed on the floor with a splat and, much to everyone's surprise, started to move. Her body went limp, eyes rolled to the back of her head as the moving cluster of darkened blood uncurled itself. The thing that had exited Mal's body resembled that of a centipede though it had two long appendages coming from it's rear and a hammer-like head. The beast was hissing, large enough to see but small enough to crush (that only being a plausible thing if the creature hadn't had a superb exoskeleton), as it scurried across the floor in an attempt to escape. A pressured hissing sounded from the slits of its armoured skin and the scent of various hormones could be picked up by anyone with a keen sense of smell.

Robin yelped, staring in shock at the bloodied mess the poor woman had hacked up. Oh god what was that? For once, when the Doctor ushered her out of the room, she was happy to oblige. Was that what was in Mal all that time? Was that what made her act so strange? And more importantly to her, was that the thing that completely ruined one of her best friends' life? That little bug... She wanted to just rush in and crush it under her foot. Kill it for good. Lucky for her, only a moment later, the Doctor was calling her back inside. Too bad, though, he had already scooped it up for examination. '.. What is that thing...' She murmured, scowling at the little creature in the tube. For a moment, she glanced back at Mal, her face adopting a look of worry before being replaced with anger at what that thing did to her.

Swimming, floating, what did they call it when you could fly and fall all at once?  Her body was so light but she was without direction and so resulted to moving at random.  Where was her destination?  A sign to point her to a place? There was nothing but black and nothingness and a heavy set of confusion set on her shoulders.  Is that what was weighing her down?  No, it couldn't be, because Mal felt as if she were floating up to the surface.

A distant light, warm and welcoming and tempting to reach out to, to touch was floating about her.  Mal's hand was visible in her sight, caressing the white light and receiving quiet whispers of reassurance in response.  They were inviting her to join them, to simply will her arrival and she would surly go.  The brunette was prepared to agree, to tell them to take her away to the freedom, but the darkness sitting on her shoulder had taken shape.  

The beast was ugly, a black shadow outlined by white like one may view as a sketch on a blackboard.  It's clawed hands grabbed onto Mal's shoulders and shook her until the light fluttered off her hand and upwards, out of reach.  The reason of her distance between the glorious white was evident when that awful feeling in her stomach arrived.  She was falling.

It wasn't fair, what she saw, the sketch was showing her the fire and blood and tears and death.  All of it was you. No, that was impossible, it couldn't be.  But it was.  Mal knew what she was doing, of course she did, the only difference was she had no filter, had no care or compassion when she put a bullet in someone's head or set a planet ablaze.  Your punishment.  Your punishment.  Your punishment...

It was waking up.  Mal's eyes fluttered open and she felt like she was no longer floating, she was trapped in this body, on this cot, in this moment, but the paralysis hadn't been due to a crippled body.  No, the nano bots had fixed everything they needed to and her body was fully functional and then some.  But her mind, oh god her mind...

"No..."  She whispered, distraught and everything but okay.  This wasn't her, she needed to go back, where was her choice, the proper choice?  She wanted that light and the whiteness and reassurance and hope and freedom to escape everything she had done, all the blood on her hands and darkness in her mind.  "No!"  It was a shout now, forceful and terrified and Mal shot from the cot, all the equipment nearest to her clattered to the ground as she ripped out the IVs and put distance between herself and the occupants in the room.

Hazel eyes travelled to the cot and to the floor only to see it painted scarlet... her doing, no doubt.  She began to cry, not quite sobs but pointless blubbering.  "It was me, it was all me, oh god... oh god I didn't- it couldn't- No!  There's so much gone... so much done.. I can't fix it.. I can't go back!  Don't make me go back to them!  Oh, My Doctor, I'm sorry.. so sorry.. Luci... Vincent... no... no!  Don't come near me!"  Her body was out of her control, shaking and trembling and taunting her.  So were the people in the room, she couldn't have them looking at her, she was a disgrace and just as much as an abomination as the monsters she created.  "I need it, the cowards way out!  I can't fix it... i can't.. I- no, no, no, I wasn't ever.. I tried so hard!  So hard to prevent- I failed.. again.. always..a failure."

That quivering hand reached into her jacket and pulled out a gun.  Nothing fancy, just a revolver from the older times of Earth.  Funny that she carried this around since it didn't fry her enemies to a crisp.  At first, Mal pointed the end towards the Doctor and Robin, wild eyed and obviously desperate as she told them, again, not to take a single step forward.  This wasn't okay and it never would be.  She had to end it before anything else could happen, before she killed or hurt and suffered once more.  "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry.  I can't... Good-bye!"

Turning that point into her own mouth Mal thought of the whiteness and begged them to accept her as those milliseconds ticked on into what felt like hours.  She didn't want to be dragged down with the shadow-y man again, she just wanted something freer and better and wanted people who could not be harmed by all the scars of her being.  And, with that resolve met, her finger squeezed the trigger.

No bang.  Nothing.  Just a click and instead of the scent of gun powder Mal smelled blood and leather and hopelessness.  She pulled the revolver away from her slowly, dumbly, unsure of what happened until she popped it open and realized there were no bullets.  No, why would there be, this was a relic from a museum, something she picked up upon slaughtering a tourist planet off the coast of Sayshu.  Crumbled, Mal absolutely crumbled as she realized she had to live and think and regret.  Her legs gave out and she thudded to the ground with a horrific scream of agony, her hands cradling her head as she sobbed and rocked herself though no comfort came form it.

((Thanks Mal. I sincerely thank you for making me sob and it's not even 7am yet.))

Robin immediately looked over at Mal, eyes wide and nervous. Everything that just happened, everything she'd done, how could a person even react to that? Her eyes stretched even wider, causing her to take a step back at the sight. Well, that was one way. But she despised death, didn't she? She despised killing. So what was she planning on doing with that thing? Then the gun was pointed at herself. 'N-No, Mal!' Her voice cracked, and she wanted to rush over so badly. She wanted to hug her and tell her it was okay but she couldn't. Because it wasn't. If this was how it ended, right here, right now, it wouldn't ever be okay. The empty click of the chamber was like angelic singing, but the immediate moment in which it happened was not. She was fully prepared to have her heart shattered into a million pieces and to witness the death of a friend so very dear and oh so very lost. Tears began to stream down her cheeks as she stared in silence, unable to drag her body over there to do a bloody thing. Not a single command, no matter how forceful, would let her even take a step.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked her muscles and forced them to comply, sluggishly dragging herself closer to the pair on the floor in front of her. Still, she could do nothing. She could not find the words to comfort this woman, the ruler of the universe, and the crippled shell of a best friend. All she could do was sit and watch, hot tears creating new paths over the old ones as Mal could not bring herself to do.

((I feel like this should be longer after you lot and your evilness))