A/N: Ok, this is a total excuse for me writing ten!whump. I have this epic saga stuck in my head, which I have started. But I needed this outta my system in order to put full focus on "After the Fall". It has no connection with any other story I have published.
It's dark. That's the first thing he noticed. The sun of this world had long since set, allowing the shadows kept at bay by the light to emerge, creeping from every crevice, unseen and unheard, taking control of the streets around him.
The stench of his bleak surroundings next assaulted his senses, the reek of alcohol and sex, of urine and waste, filling his nostrils and overpowering him.
He found himself violently relieving his stomach of all its contents, followed rapidly by horrid bile, as his body continued to wretch despite of a lack of anything to expel.
The memories of the past few hours continue to haunt his mind, yet the images flashing behind his eyes seem somehow removed, as though the whole ordeal had been perpetrated against another, and he was naught but a spectator in the vicious acts.
He could feel his fragile body trembling without reprieve, and still could not connect the dots as to why. It made no sense, the fear and horror overwhelming him stood in stark contrast to all his logical thoughts.
He could hear the voices, seemingly so distant, yet knowing they originated from right by his side. He knew he understood the barbaric words, and yet comprehension failed him.
It didn't matter, not anymore. He found himself, for the first time in all his lives, simply not caring.
Somewhere within, he recognised the departure of the souls around him, a crushing sense of tranquillity enveloping his all. Not once had he ever felt elation at the departure of humans.
Humans. They were humans. This was Earth.
No, this could not be his Earth. This depravity, these heinous and atrocious travesties, they could never be borne of his beloved world.
It was a simple refuel, a short stop in Cardiff in order to allow the TARDIS her much needed recuperation following yet another near-miss, which The Doctor had walked away from, almost unscathed as per usual. He could feel the reproach of his one constant companion the moment he stumbled into range of his sentinel ship, furious at her Time Lord for, once again, landing himself in unimaginable trouble.
"Cardiff? Really?"
He had tried explaining the specifics of the Time Rift, and the energy produced, however found himself giving up before he had even started, when faced with his fiery red-headed companion, and her look at utter disgust at being anywhere in Wales.
"You do realise there are people on the other side of world who have never left their tiny towns of all of 27 humans and mud-brick huts, that point at laugh at Wales"
He'd ignored it at the time, instead entering a wild and manic explanation of the magnificence of the forgotten British Nation, choosing to disregard her expressions of unaltered boredom and ire.
He now found himself wishing he'd take her advice to leave the city, although perhaps not her chosen words.
He had found Jack, knowing he and Donna would enjoy a night out – as humans – to share stories, and complaints. He knew they'd hit it off straight away, playing off each other and undoubtedly form an unshakeable friendship.
He had listened to the exchange, quickly becoming lost in the slang of planet Earth. Attempting to keep up, he found himself annoyed – mostly at himself, for his inability to comprehend the words before him. He'd slipped away, unnoticed by his friends, as they continued gossiping and trading tales.
He didn't know why, however his mind flew to Pompeii.
Where Rose would have thrown a tantrum.
Where Martha would have rationalised.
Where Donna Understood. Where she allowed herself to share in his guilt, knowing he had no choice.
That is why he would always consider her his closet friend. She, for all her bravado and boisterous nature, she just knew.
Perhaps that's why he had slinked away in the first place, out of respect. Or maybe it was jealousy. Not that it even mattered now.
A trail of red liquid followed his every step, although its significance seemed to be missed. He just wanted to reach the light, florescent as it may be, it represented salvation in his eyes.
He could hear voices, different from those he'd been trapped with. These were caring, kind – and almost panicked.
Doctor? Doctor! Stop.
I need you to calm down.
Please. Just sit down.
DOCTOR
"Doctor", the voice resonated unlike any other he'd heard, "Just stop. Stop walking away…"
No longer removed from himself, he knew the words were directed at him, "Why?"
A simple enough question, he felt.
"You're hurt. Please…what happened?"
"Hurt? I' fine. .."
"You're bleeding…"
"…I must have tripped"
Nobody, it seemed, missed the terrified recoil when Jack moved to approach the Doctor, bar the Doctor himself.
"Jack, what is going on?" He questioned, confusion evident in his words.
Jack paused, unsure on how to approach the horrifying situation before him, "Doctor. You're injured. Do you remember what happened?" Jacks speech slowed, ensuring each word was understood.
"What do you mean?"
"You're bleeding, Doctor.."
"…Oh, so I am", his voice so evocatively distant and removed from the horror around them, his smile one of terrifying vacancy as he gazed in amazement at the growing pool of red liquid beneath him, "Wonder how that got there?"
Jack moved closer again, one hand reaching out toward the Doctors shoulder, aghast at his friends' violent reaction at the clearly unexpected contact, "Doctor…" he muttered, "What the hell happened to you..?"
The Doctor's gaze slowly moved upward, confusion and fear bleeding through. What dismayed Jack beyond all, was the crushing fractured innocence so evident within his eyes. For a being so ancient and knowing, for all his blinding brilliance, he remained so pure and naïve in so many ways – seeing his childlike exuberance fracture before him distressed Jack more than he ever imagined it could.
"Jack…?" his voice barely audible, as his eyes fixated on the Captain, before they glazed over in an attempt to block his own memories, "Jack. It….it hurts"
Within a flash, Jack was by his side, still avoiding physical contact, yet horribly uncertain on what he should do.
"I can still hear them, feel them." The Doctor spoke, although it appeared to be words uttered to naught but the wind, "I could see, Jack. I could see, and feel…. All the anger, and hatred." He paused, seemingly unaware of the silent droplets now falling past his cheeks, "…Why? What did I do? Why did they abhor me?"
Jack felt his own emotions fray and splinter, as the man he greatly respected and adored, trembled before him. Such emotion soon gave way to his own fury at whoever had instigated this dreadfulness. His fists clenched against his will, an action he tried to hide from the Doctor, guilt gripping him as he noticed the Doctor withdraw from his presence, flinching unconsciously at the simple act. Yet, while the Time Lord seemed to feel his rage and physically respond, it was though the synapses did not fire, that the networks that communicate between physicality, sensory perception and his mind had failed, for his verbal responses seemed so incongruent when placed in the context of their backdrop, and paralleled to every other reaction he displayed.
"Do you remember? Remember how you got here?"
Jack watched as the Doctor racked his mind, until finally declaring, "…. No. I just, I don't know. Woke up here" Jack had not, in all his time of knowing the Doctor – especially this incarnation – he'd never seen him so…lost, unable to articulate his thoughts.
He went to speak, yet found himself also lost for words, unable to conjure anything meaningful to help his friend.
"Jack?", The Doctor's voice, hideously broken, "I…I can't", he let his face crumble into his hands, "I just…I don't…I don't understand, Jack"
Jack searched for the assurances that all would be okay, yet could not bring himself to blatantly lie to the Doctor.
"What did they do, Jack? Why do I….Why am I so scared?"
"They were bad people, Doctor. Hateful monsters…They hurt you. And I am so sorry I wasn't here to stop it…" Jack finally found his tongue, as his anger suddenly dissipated in place of a tremendous need to help.
Silence overcame them, both unsure and lost in their own thoughts for a moment, with physical contact still evaded, until the Doctor finally broke the stillness, "It still hurts, Jack. I have disconnected from my tangible form, but I can still feel it", his hollowed voice echoed, resonating off the filthy walls around them, "Jack? How do I stop it? How do I stop feeling? It's growing, so strong. And I can't hold it at bay…and it hurts. It hurts so much…"
"Doctor, we need to get you out of here, we need to get you seen to…" His hand reached down, allowing the Doctor to complete the transaction rather than force the action on him.
"TARDIS. I need her…"
"I will take you to her, but please, let me take you to Torchwood first. See Owen, quick check over…"
"…TARDIS…."
"…You need medical attention, Doctor…"
"…TARDIS!", he screamed desperately, imploring Jack to take him to his save haven.
"…Jack? What the bloody hell are you doing down…", The new addition froze mid-sentence, sickened at the scene before her, "…oh my god… Doctor?"
Donna rushed to her best friends' side in a millisecond, taking in the revulsion encompassing him. The blood, the fear, the terrifying stare of abject dread within his eyes, trepidation filling her as she imagined the worst of any and every conceivable scenario.
"What the hell happened?", she demanded, not missing to obvious flinch of the Doctor as she attempted to wrap her arms around his shoulders.
"We need to get him out of here", Jack jumped into an impersonal 'soldier' mode, the addition of a third person seeming to jerk his ingrained reflexes into action, "Help me. We're going to Torchwood."
Typical fucking fag.
Hate these fuckers. Think they can do anything.
Fuckin wrong, I tell ya.
Reckon we wouldn't pick ya out, huh?
Bet you're a catcher. You look like a bitch.
Donna and Jack half carried, half dragged the Doctor to the Plass, placing him on the hidden platform that would descend into the Hub.
Normally, Donna would have demanded an explanation, refusing to move until her questions were answered. Now, she found herself blindly following Jack's orders, her trust in him gained in an instant she could not place.
"I've called Owen. Not impressed at being called, but he's never impressed" Jack spoke, to no one in particular, "He'll be here in a few minutes" slowly the perception filter clouded them as they descended underground, "Hopefully, he's not been drinking…"
What?
Hold on, I really don't understand what's going on here.
What do you mean, 'Pick me out'?'
Look, I have no idea what you mean…
…Whatever I've done, I'm sorry.
Whatever you want, I can help…
What?
I don't…I don't understand….
Please, don't.
I'm sorry, I really am. I don't… I never meant to hurt anyone…
NO!
"Don't start Owen. Just do your job"
He needed no second order. For all his arrogance, patients always came first.
He didn't even voice his objection to seeing to the man recognised only by name is Torchwood Enemy Number One.
He was hurt, unimaginably so. For all his time with the rouge agency, he found himself appalled at the state before him, his injuries so horrid, Owen found himself sickened before he had even begun an in-depth assessment, such a shape he had not faced since his short time spent as an intern in a large London Accident and Emergency.
"Do you know how this happened?" was the only query Owen could conjure, staring in horror at the bloodied mess before him.
"I…" at any other time, Owen would have responded with a very sarcastic and witty retort at Jack and his failure to find his tongue, yet her found himself lacking the conviction to deliver the words.
"Doesn't matter" and he entered an impersonal and professional tone, "Anything important I should know?"
Jack could not answer the pain and anguish so clearly evident across his features with his eyes locked upon the man tremblingly in unconsciousness in their presence.
Owen moved back to his patient, immediately turning the wide array of drugs available, searching for anything available to calm the shaking body, terrified and bleeding.
"NO!" The sudden terrified scream shocked both Owen and Jack, with both men intentionally launching backwards.
Jack recovered a second before Owen, seeing the soul crushing image of the man he respected and adored quivering in abject fear before him. Without even realising his own movements, Jack found himself rushing to the side of his companion, beaten only by the fiery red-head who reached the Doctor's side seconds before him.
"What. The hell. Happened.", Donna knew the answer, she knew what travesty had occurred.
She just couldn't look at him, at Her Doctor, and see a broken fractured soul replace the infallible, manic genius she had come to see as her brilliant albeit awkward younger – and so unimaginably older - sibling.
Fragmented, Donna could see the damaged pieces of her Spaceman, scattering around him.
And those who caused it.
They would pay.
Whoever had hurt him, whoever had shattered her brilliant alien, to chase all words from his lips and stun him into silence…
She would hunt them down, hunt them and demand reparations….