Chapter 3

For weeks the only contact Jack had with anyone, was the meal he was given through a small hatch twice a day. For most people, the food given would have been practically inedible, and also too insubstantial. But, Jack had been half starved on the Valiant, and he found it a step up from what the Master had allowed him. Being given water twice a day was also what he considered a luxury. It wasn't as good as the treatment he had received at the holding facility, but, if UNIT were trying to soften him up, they wouldn't succeed like this.

It was boring in the cell, but on the Valiant Jack had learned to welcome boredom, as all the prisoners did. When the alternative was pain and humiliation, or hate and vicious verbal attacks from those he loved, boredom was a boon. The only snag was the thinking time it gave him.

In an effort to avoid thinking, Jack exercised. He had been chained most of the time on the Valiant, and he was incredibly unfit. He paced around the cell, whose dimensions he had down perfectly, so that he never banged into a wall. His feet, bare on the rough concrete, toughened up gradually as he did so. He did press ups, crunchies, and other general exercises to build up his fitness. The lack of food did limit him, however. If he was well fed, he could have exercised non-stop. As it was his physical weakness meant that he had to think too much.

While awake, Jack tormented himself trying to think of ways that he could have done things differently, avoided becoming a monster. Perhaps Torchwood and UNIT were right, there was no excuse, and he did truly deserve to be here. Even Tish had abandoned him in the end. He was now truly alone.

Sleeping gave no respite. His nightmares were constant. Dreams of dying over and over, alternated with those of brutally murdering others. In his dreams it was Ianto that he killed, or friends and lovers that he had known. He felt that he was slowly going insane from the memories and the dreams. Perhaps he already was insane. Who wouldn't be, after nine months of the Master's tender mercies.

As a man who had been unable to sleep for more than a couple of hours per night, for over one hundred years, he had read a lot. One of Shakespeare's sonnets kept running through his head.

When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least, Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

And he remembered the night when Ianto loved him.

b_b_b_b_b

After several weeks, Jack was finally taken out of his cell and taken to an interrogation room. He was barely able to open his eyes in the strong light, trying to adjust after so long in the dark. Colonel Oduya was present, along with four guards armed with tasers and truncheons. They shoved him into a chair, on the opposite side of the desk from the Colonel.

"So, Harkness, you've had the easy life long enough, now it's time to get down to business."

"What business?" Jack asked dully.

"You must be aware that UNIT has been keen to get its hands on you for years. It was only the protection that Torchwood, and the Queen, afforded you, that prevented them pulling you in before."

Jack was well aware of this. UNIT and Torchwood had been bitter rivals for decades. He was amazed that it had taken so long for UNIT to start their interrogation. Of course, they probably considered being locked in the dark for weeks, with barely enough food and water to live on, as part of it.

"Now you belong to us," Oduya continued. "You have no legal rights. We require you to tell us everything we want to know."

"And what do you want to know?"

"We want information on the artifacts in Torchwood's secure archives, the security codes for the archives and the Hub, and any information you have on the Doctor."

"Oh, not much then," Jack murmured.

"Save the sarcasm, Harkness. You betrayed Torchwood and the Doctor, to the Master. You shouldn't have a problem doing it again for us. And don't expect us to take no for an answer. You are murdering scum, and a traitor to the human race. The men here know what you did,. and we will have no qualms about hurting you to get what we want."

Inwardly, Jack cried out. Was there never going to be an end to it ? Was nine months of agony not enough? He could be in UNIT hands for years, or decades. And there would be no help. There would be no rescue. He was under no illusions. There was no one who gave a damn what happened to him. The Doctor had abandoned him once, and tried to a second time. He had presumably left him in UNIT custody, without a qualm. And Torchwood; they all hated him. They'd be pleased to have him locked away here. Except maybe Tosh. Perhaps she would worry about him, despite her antipathy.

Bitterness rolled over him, and the wall he had been building around his heart for months on the Valiant got stronger. If only he had let them all die, he would be happy now, with them back at Torchwood. One death each, would that have been so bad ?