This story is part one of a trilogy. Part 1 (Hidden Behind Our Appearances) is a Valiant story with Torchwood. Part 2 follows Jack after the Valiant, and Torchwood play a small part. In part three Jack is reunited with Torchwood.

This is a very dark fic. Warnings: Explicit violence, non-con in later chapters.

PART 1 OF TRILOGY: Hidden Behind Our Appearances

Né en 17 a Leidenstadt - Freddericks, Goldman, Jones

No one ever knows what is in our guts
Hidden behind our appearances
The soul of someone brave, of an accomplice or an executioner,
Or the worst or the most beautiful?
Will we be those who resist or just sheep in the flock,
If more than words were needed?

Chapter 1

Day 14-30

It had been two weeks since Martha had escaped from the Valiant, with Jack's vortex manipulator. The aged Doctor had spent most of that time in his wheelchair, being ignored by the Master. He turned up every now and then, to gloat and taunt the Doctor, but his attention was obviously elsewhere. The Doctor supposed there must be a lot to organise for world domination.

He was very worried about Jack. No one the Doctor had spoken to in those two weeks had seen, or heard, anything about Jack. The Doctor was ashamed to remember how he had tried to run from him again, and how he had treated him when they were reunited. His shame was compounded by Jack's actions in helping Martha escape, rather than escaping himself, which he could easily have done. Knowing how fascinated the Master would be in Jack, touched as he was by the time vortex, increased the Doctor's worry tenfold. The Doctor knew that the Master was capable of terrible acts, and desperately hoped that he wouldn't unleash that aspect of his personality on the immortal, who would be incredibly vulnerable to the Master's sadistic side.

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As the days went on, the Master's interaction with the Doctor began to increase. He delighted in dragging in men and women, who had been captured by the Toclafane. They had been attempting to put up some sort of resistance, however futile. Most of these unfortunate people had seen their friends and relatives hacked to death in front of them.

Each time, he would call the Doctor out of his tent, and show him the captive. He would offer to de-age the Doctor by 10 years if he would kill them. Each time, the Doctor would refuse, and the captive would be taken down to the cells, never to be seen again. Every time, the Master would taunt the Doctor, pointing out that he would soon have been back to his normal age if he had cooperated.

The Doctor let the taunts wash over him. He would never join in the Master's sadistic games. And he knew that the Master, though he undoubtedly would have kept his word about the de-aging, would equally surely have found reasons to age him again.

Frustrated by the game, and the lack of reaction from the Doctor, the Master became angry and withdrew food from the Doctor for days at a time. His actions on the ground became ever more brutal, with whole communities being wiped out by the Toclafane.

The Doctor was sickened by the Master's actions, and brutality, but his determination to bring the last member of his race back from his obvious madness never flagged. This became the most important focus of the Doctor's existence. Despite this focus, the Doctor did not forget Jack. He frequently asked the Master if he could see Jack, and what had happened to him.

The Master was always pleased when the Doctor asked about Jack. He would never give any information, or let the Doctor see Jack, but he would inwardly smirk with glee.

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Events took a turn for the worse thirty days after the Toclafane descended, when the Master danced onto the flight deck beaming.

"Doctor, Doctor, can you guess who I've managed to capture?"

The Doctor did not answer.

"No? I've been after them since day one, but I'm amazed they were this easy to capture. It's Handsome Jack's little playmates. His Torchwood team, all four of them."

The Doctor did not react, but inwardly his heart sank. Jack would be heartbroken if anything happened to his friends. And the Master would use them to hurt him.

"Well, I just thought I'd let you know the good news, gramps. I'd better go and get them settled in now. Their helicopter will be arriving any moment. I do like the personal touch."

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The Master was waiting at the helipad, when the helicopter landed. The wind from the rotors whipped through his hair, and pulled at his clothes. As the motor died, three guards jumped out and a further three guards shoved four bound figures out of the door, to fall heavily onto the pad. An escort of Toclafane swirled around gleefully chattering. "We found them for you Mister Master, we found them but we didn't slice and dice."

The Master approached the bound figures and, grabbing the nearest, yanked her head upwards viciously. "So Gwen Cooper, welcome to the Valiant. I hope you have an interesting stay." He leered malevolently at her on the word interesting."

Gwen tried to yank her head away from him, earning a kick in the ribs from a guard in the process.

The Master dropped her back to the floor, and moved on to the others, yanking their heads up to see who they were. He stopped at Ianto. "So, Ianto Jones, Handsome Jack's part time shag. And you're not wearing a suit. I'm really disappointed."

He dropped Ianto roughly back down to the ground, and ordered the guards to take them down to the cells.

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The Torchwood team were manhandled down to the cells, and locked in. Ianto and Owen were in one cell, and Gwen and Tosh in another. They could talk to each other, but not see the occupants of the neighbouring cell. All four were in pain from the injuries they had received when being captured. Fortunately, all the injuries were minor and would heal well on their own, without medical treatment.

Ianto's priority was not his health, but what the Master had said.

"Did you hear what Saxon said?" he asked the others. "He must know Jack. Perhaps he's here!"

"I thought you said Jack had run off with the Doctor," queried Gwen.

"He did, but Saxon must know him from somewhere. He knew that Jack and I were …, involved. He even knows that I usually wear suits, for god's sake. How on Earth would he know that? I've never met him before."

"I think we have more to worry about here than whether Saxon knows Jack or not," growled Owen. In case you've forgotten, we've been captured by the psychotic maniac who unleashed the Toclafane on the Earth, and had the US president killed. Jack ran out on us, he's irrelevant now."

Tosh looked shocked at Owen's harsh statement, disagreeing with his sentiments.

And to Ianto, Jack would never be irrelevant. He had known that his feelings for Jack were deeper than those Jack had for him, but, even so, he had been deeply hurt when Jack left without a word. Things would probably never be healed between them, even if that's what Jack wanted. But that didn't mean that he didn't want to know what happened to him, or get an explanation of why he left.