Worthy Cause

The crash came only seconds after Ace stumbled into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind her. Already on alert and less than confident about Ace's ability to walk after the exhausting trip back to the Tardis, Hex was up and at the door in a flash.

"Ace? Ace, you alright?"

Her injuries were superficial. Nothing broken, only bruised. But the exhaustion coupled with the psychological damage of torture and routine beating - even if it had only been skin deep - had certainly taken its toll. Drugged and deprived of food and sleep, she'd been handcuffed upright for days under bright light. Her wrists were raw, bleeding, and bruised under the bandages he'd carefully applied. She'd struggled to get out of the handcuffs. Ace always struggled.

Colony 34 had not been masqueraded as a vacation. They had known from the start (for once) what they were there to do. A bloodless revolution - the overthrow of a corrupt, tyrannical government. It had sounded so big, so impossible, Hex hadn't shared the Doctor's confidence in the plan. Nor had he really understood Ace's. She had been eager. So eager, in fact, that Hex could've sworn he'd heard, in the quiet undertones the Doctor used when he took her aside, a warning against "showing off." It had helped to ease Hex's mind, really. She wasn't afraid; maybe he shouldn't be either.

He found himself rethinking that logic now.

"Ace, I'm coming in."

She was on her knees on the smooth tile-like floor of the Tardis, clutching the edge of the sink, trying to pull herself up. "I'm fine," she protested as he came nearer. But she failed, and fell, weak and bruised arms giving out.

"Come on," Hex said quietly, in his best reassuring voice.

"Don't," Ace growled back at him. "Don't touch me."

"At least let me help you."

"I can do it myself!"

"No. No, you can't."

She looked up at him and glared. Her face was bruised, too - her right eye nearly swollen shut and her lower lip twice its normal size. She had been a punching bag for god knows how many interrogators until they'd finally resorted to drugs to get what they wanted from her - a false confession, a signature on her own death warrant. Hex wasn't entirely sure why they hadn't just drugged her from the very start, if that's what they were going to do in the end. Maybe it had been sadism, pure and simple. The thrill of pushing a harmless-looking woman to the brink of collapse.

"Ace," he said softly, crouching on bent knees beside her. "Have you seen yourself? You've been tortured. You're not okay. You're not supposed to be okay."

She flinched. Then she looked away.

"I'm a nurse, remember? And I'm supposed to be looking after you. So let me do my job, ey?"

She was quiet for a long moment, breathing slow. Then, finally, she lifted one bandaged hand and reached for him. He was there to take her hand, to support her weight as he helped her up and over to the wide edge of the bathtub. Once he was sure she was steady, he reached past her to turn on the water.

"Make it hot," she said weakly. "Really hot."

"Well, I don't want to scorch you."

"No, really," she answered, staring at the floor with her one good eye. "Scorching hot sounds nice."

He let the oversized tub fill, and managed to keep his horror to himself as he slowly, carefully helped her undress. She was bruised from head to toe - deep, dark, purple blotches, some of them as big as his fist. He couldn't help the anger that rose up inside of him. Who could do this to another human being? And who could allow it to happen...

He tried to stop that thought from going any further. When the Doctor had given them their roles to play, he couldn't have possibly known this was how it would end. Of course, he couldn't have known that it wouldn't, either. He would've been a fool not to recognize the possibility that she would be captured. And a fool was one thing that the Doctor was not. When he'd set up Ace as the "Rebel Queen," he'd known full well what would happen to her if the leaders of the corrupt government caught up with her. Just because she'd been willing - enthusiastic, even - didn't mean it was okay. Not really. And when the Doctor had told him, when he'd found out that Ace had been in custody for days while they sorted out their own stuff... It was all Hex could do to not abandon the plan and race to her rescue.

The Doctor seemed to have no such internal struggle.

"It's not your fault, you know."

Hex blinked as he glanced up, carefully setting her foot back down on the floor and putting her shoe aside before reaching for the other foot.

"Not yours, or the Doctor's. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, lowering his eyes. "Yeah, of course."

"Yeah, but you don't." Her voice was still weak, but there was strength buried underneath. It was a strength he'd come to expect from her in the few short weeks they'd been travelling together. "I can see it in your eyes. You're mad. Like you could've done something to prevent it."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I could've." Tossing her socks aside, he stood and offered her a steadying hand. He knew she wouldn't want more than that. "Maybe the Doctor could've. I mean... sending you in there like that..."

"I wanted to do it," she reminded him.

"I know. And that's what really makes it crazy."

Through her split, swollen lips, she actually managed a smile. "Part of the price you pay, I guess. The cost of travelling with the Doctor."

She held his shoulders. He helped her strip the rest of her clothing, then carefully guided her into the tub, steadying her as she sank down into the steaming hot water.

"I'll leave you alone, then," Hex said quietly. "Give us a shout when you're done. I'll come help you out."

"Hex?"

He had just turned toward the door. But he paused, and looked back.

"D'you really think it's crazy?"

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"What I did - what we did - back there..."

"Posing as the leader of an underground revolutionary movement? Setting yourself up to be public enemy number one? Yeah. I'd say that's a bit crazy."

"But what we did. We saved so many lives. That government was so corrupt, and we fixed it. Doesn't that mean something to you? Isn't it worth a few bruises and a couple of cracked ribs?"

"Maybe." He reconsidered, and his frown deepened. "Yeah, I mean, I guess. But still. They could've killed you."

"And if they had," she said quietly. "Wouldn't it still have been worth it?"

He was quiet for a moment. He couldn't say that the thought of her death hadn't crossed his mind. He'd hoped that she would be fine when they got to her. He'd hoped she would at least be alive, that the Doctor actually knew she was alive and wasn't just telling him that to keep him from freaking out. But she'd been in custody for days by the time he heard. And since he'd heard, he hadn't slept. What if she was dead? What if she was gone forever? What if she suffered brain damage, or internal bleeding, or some equally horrible trauma that would cause her so much pain and suffering?

It would cause them both pain and suffering...

Finally, he shook his head in answer to her question. "No. No, it wouldn't be worth it. Not really. Not if I'm honest."

She smiled faintly as she closed her eyes and rested her head back on the tub with a sigh. "Then you're the one who's crazy, Hex. Because if liberating a planet like that isn't worth dying for, you got your priorities a little messed up."

"I didn't say it wouldn't be worth dying for," he answered. "I said it wouldn't be worth you dying for."

Her smile fell, but she didn't open her eyes, didn't turn to look at him. She didn't say another word. And after a brief pause, he turned and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.