Laz stumbled through the city streets, barely aware of their own movements as their mind struggled to keep itself focused. Frigid night air scorched their lungs with each ragged breath, street lights all blurring together as they fought to stay upright. Their right hand was still clenched firmly around their dagger, the blood running down their fingers having long gone cold. Their left arm hung limply at their side, a stabbing pain radiating from their wrist. They had fallen, they thought, though they couldn't remember how. They had left the professor's home, and were running, running, to—where?

Keep moving. Keep moving. The Vastra can fix this—whatever this is—

You think running back to her is going to solve this?

Keep moving, keep running, don't stop, just—

She's going to kill you. Just like she kills everyone else who doesn't follow her orders.

I did what she asked! I killed the professor, I stopped him from-

From what? Living a happy life? He didn't know anything! That innocent man is dead for no reason, because of YOU! And his children too! What have you DONE?!

Laz fought desperately to push back the waves of visions that battered their mind and focus on the present. But no matter how focused they were, every few seconds the cobblestones, closed shops, and glaring lights of streetlamps were replaced by glimpses of sunshine, ocean waves, a feeling of safety and soft grass underfoot. Then the vision of their blood-covered hands, standing over the bodies of the children they had just killed.

Monster. Murderer. What in the world were you thinking?

I wasn't thinking, she said we don't need to think, just follow her orders-

Her orders were to kill 2 innocent children? You haven't even wiped their blood off your hands, and already you're coming up with excuses?! You sick bastard. What excuse could there possibly be for this?

Another flash. A woman's face. Warm. Smiling. Laz didn't know her. But they did. Somehow.

Then blood. So much blood.

Stop showing me this—!

A glimpse of the street around them, only briefly, before another vision. Someone tall, standing over them, grabbing their wrist and dragging them away. Their grip was painful, unrelenting, and though Laz knew they were no match for them, they struggled, kicking and screaming. Their free hand reached for something, anything to fight back with, and their hand found something metallic.

Impact. Laz jolted back to the present, their limp arm searing with pain as they collided with something, no, someone—another person on the street. At this hour? An anguished cry surged out of them, the sharp pain in their wrist flaring with heat as they grit their teeth and shouldered the obstacle out of their way.

"Woah, hey!"

Laz ignored them. The sound barely hit their ears. They had to keep running, keep going, get back to the Vastra, get back home—

"Hey, buddy! You—“

A weight pressed down on their shoulder. Someone was grabbing them from behind.

No. No. Don't touch me—Let go let go let GO—

Instinctively, Laz threw out their working arm, slicing the dagger behind them.

Clink!

Their blade met something hard, unyielding, stopping the arc of their swing like a brick wall. They whipped around, expecting to see an armored knight, or a member of the town watch, but instead, a normal man in casual clothes stood at the other end of their blade. They had managed to rip a hole in his shirt, skin visible beneath. Somehow, despite not wearing any armor or protection, his body had stopped the knife, and the blade drew none of his blood.

Laz froze in place, knife still jabbed into the man's side but refusing to cut through. He looked down at the dagger, mouth open in surprise.

"You... Did you just stab me?"

Laz stepped away, keeping the blade held out between them and the very durable stranger as he examined the spot where their knife had just hit.

"Ugh, seriously? You've gotta be kidding me, I just bought this!" he groaned, pulling the shirt taut and examining the hole. He looked up and glared at them. "What the hell is your problem, kid?! I was just trying to... Huh?"

The anger on his face flickered as his eyes met Laz's, shifting to something softer. Confusion? Concern? Laz barely processed it.

Who is this guy? Why isn't my knife working? Why didn't he die?

You want this random stranger to die?! He hasn't done anything to you- you want more innocent blood on your hands, now?!

No, I don't, I—

But you'll stab anyone who crosses your path for no reason! You could have easily killed him—wouldn't that be perfect, one more body for your pile of corpses! Bring him back to the Vastra, I'm sure she'll love more wanton, meaningless death for her crusade!

I didn't—I just—!

"Uh... Hey, kid, are you-"

"S-shut up!"

Laz stepped back as they shouted, barely conscious of the words coming from their own mouth. Every part of them was in pain- their head throbbed, stinging like it was full of razors, their wrist burned, and sharp tears pricked at the corner of their eyes. Their whole body shook as they breathed; shuddering breaths that lurched out of them at broken intervals, interspersed with sobs. Something inside them had broken. Everything felt wrong.

Maybe this was what dying felt like.

The man simply stared at them. "Woah. Hey, you're... um-"

Through tears, another flash, a vision. The woman from before, no longer smiling. Laying on the floor, a knife through her chest, a fog of golden light surrounding her. Laz had cried then, too. They remembered the warm tears on their face, their throat raw from screaming, the pull of the man dragging them away, the cold grip of metal in their palm. Surely they would die next. They had to get away. Get away. Get away—

They turned, and ran. The man called after them, but his words didn't reach. Laz was focused, staggering away with burning determination. They had to leave, had to go home, had to—

From behind them, the man's voice, shouting. Words, and a flash of light. Everything slowed. Their heart quieted to a dull, rhythmic thud, the pain throughout their body subsided, and a wave of overwhelming calm washed everything away. In spite of everything, it almost felt pleasant, and Laz barely felt their body hit the ground before everything faded away.