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'The cave!' the Doctor said, waving his arms expansively. "The yellow light, the glittering rocks...'

Austen looked as though he was about to cry. 'He took me here. Did things to me. Years ago.'

The Doctor took a cautious step towards him, his hooded eyes narrowed in thought. 'Hundreds of years ago, Mr Austen?'

Austen grabbed the Doctor's hair and yanked him closer. Austen's dead in hell. I chewed him up and made him gristle like I did his old mam.' Austen's voice was barely recognisable as he shrieked, 'That's why I'm Old Nobodaddy!'

The Doctor pulled on the man's arm but couldn't loosen his grip. 'Look at your hands,' he gasped. 'You're an artist, man, an accomplished one!'

Austen tugged harder on the Doctor's hair, threatening to rip it out. 'It was your wish to capture the world on paper that brought you back outside into it, wasn't it? Don't throw that away!'

Austen wasn't listening. The Doctor tried to stare him down, hoping to hypnotise him in some way, but the man's eyes were glassy, rolling.

Austen's free hand was beating him across the shoulders, heavy blows that practically pummelled the Time Lord into the floor.

Austen spoke breathlessly, grinding out the words as he released the Doctor's hair in order to hit him with both fists. "They love you... They suckle on you... When you're with us in hell, Old Nobodaddy'll open your veins and bleed you dry... Alien filth!'

In desperation, the Doctor pushed through Austen's legs on his hands and knees. With an angry shout, the man toppled over on to the floor.

The Doctor turned and slumped back against the wall. 'Don't stop there,' he panted, rubbing blood from his split lip. "That was just getting interesting.'

He scrutinised the fallen man, who was almost sobbing with emotion -

whether rage or sorrow the Doctor couldn't tell. 'Filth such as myself always appreciates the correct designation. What do you mean, alien?'

Austen shook his head, bellowed incoherently and scrambled towards the Doctor again, grabbing for his throat.

***

Sam felt the world pitch and spin around her though the car must’ve stopped. The driver was angry, staring at her, telling her if she was going to be sick to do it outside the cab. She couldn't say anything.

***

Before Austen could reach the Doctor - who had curled himself into a ball for protection - the door swung open. It caught Austen heavily in the ribs and knocked him aside.

The Doctor watched as Nurse Bulwell hurried through the door and plunged a large hypodermic into the man's rump. Austen screamed, and pounded his fists against the floor like a child in a tantrum, swearing to kill them all, until his anger subsided into whimperings and at last he lay still.

The Doctor heaved himself up and went to inspect Austen's prone body.

'What was that? More paraldehyde?'

Nurse Bulwell looked at the Doctor, grimly. 'A lot more. And what do you think you're doing, then?'

'Checking something.' He prodded around the scar on Austen's shoulder.

'Well, well...'

'What? What are you doing here, anyway?'

The Doctor got up and shrugged, and winced at the pain the movement caused him. 'Couldn't sleep. Decided to make myself a cup of tea and thought he might want one.'

'Had you not noticed how dangerous he can be?'

The Doctor looked at her suspiciously. 'I'd not noticed how that door could lock itself from the outside.'

'It wasn't,' said Bulwell. 'I was passing, heard the disturbance, and locked the door while I went to fetch this.' She tapped the glass syringe.

The Doctor cocked his head as he looked at her. 'This room is soundproofed. You must've been right outside when...'

She looked at him, untroubled. 'Couldn't sleep myself. Wondered what you were up to, traipsing round the house at this hour.'

The Doctor's stare was as hard as his voice was soft. 'I could've been killed.'

'Would you rather I'd risked him roaming all over the house?' Bulwell said, lightly.

'Of course,' agreed the Doctor. 'He could've damaged some ornaments.

Made a terrible mess.'

Lifting