She's so tense and defensive that she doesn't take her eyes off the intruders even at Gabriel's nonsensical question and only hisses, "It is happening now," impatiently, because can't he see that? Before she can wonder why he would ask such a thing, the scavenger rips one of the circuits out of its socket and she is awash in sudden, searing pain. Her cries mix with the deafening shrill groan of the room as she staggers back against Gabriel and curls in on herself, too weak now to assert his believed insubstantiality against the very real presence of his mind.

While her distressed sounds abate like shuddering sobs, her hands close into fists and the humans are faced with a solid wall where the door used to be. The Doctor is still trying to warn them off - she won't relinquish it, her basic genetic material - but now the worse of the two is threatening her with a small explosive charge. She raises her head enough to glare at him, but trembles at his determination and reluctantly returns the door. For all her hatred of him, she is terrified of more pain.

What's the matter, TARDIS, scared to fight me? He taunts her and she barely refrains from lashing out after all, but there will be better ways of dealing with him. "He is going to die here," she states grimly as the group leaves, and there is satisfaction in that knowledge.