A/N: Another chapter, woot! I am not really happy with the first half of this chapter but it gets better if you stick with it. This is the end of the stuff I have to write, now I just have to edit things, so I can post faster. The only thing is I really don't like editing…but anyway Thank You Thank You for the wonderful reviews and reader alerts for the last chapters. Rose is appearing in exactly ONE chapter, finally. She is the character I like to write best, though she is not exactly herself…read on to find out :). The poor Doctor gets even more beat up in this chapter, I just can't resist. As Always any suggestions/corrections/comments or if you just want to tell me what color the sky was today is welcome. Anyway, Enjoy!

Chapter Four:

Hours passed and this time it was Jack pacing up and down his cell, muttering obscenities under his breath. For all his resources, he was trapped in these damn cells without out hope or rescue. The team back at the hub believed him on vacation, they thought he was one some sandy tropic isle ogling the scantily clad men and women, how wrong they were. Speaking of engaging women, his eyes flicked over to Martha. She lay on her cot, a dejected look on her face.

"You couldn't have done anything to prevent it. Try and get some sleep, Martha, we've been going all night. I can keep watch for anything going on," Jack tried to reassure her. His conversation earned him a warning glare from the sergeant posted at the foot of the stairs.

Martha turned her head to look at him. "Thanks, but I'd rather not sleep right now. I can't stop thinking about what they're doing to him–," Her voice broke and a single tear tracked its way down her cheek.

"Martha, he will be fine, he's bounced back from worst things than this. Trust me," Jack reached through the bars to lay a comforting hand on Martha's shoulder. "Trust me," he repeated.

"I do," she said with a small smile.

Their muttered conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a youthful guard, out of breath. He motioned for the sergeant to lean close and whispered something into his ear. Martha leaned forward and caught the tail end of the guard's message, "…is a figure out in the wood, we're not sure who it is but it took out one of the sentries…" The man nodded grimly and then departed with the young soldier in tow.

Both Jack and Martha breathed a sigh of relief at the dour man's departure. His presence would no longer hinder their attempt to formulate an escape plan.

"I wish we had his sonic screwdriver," Martha voiced their shared thought.

"You're sure that your door is too rusted to pick?" Jack asked with a note of hope in his voice.

"Pretty sure. The mechanism was stuck last time, but I can try again. Can you watch for anyone coming?" She waited as Jack took up position by his door, watching for any approaching guards, and then bent to her door. With a grimace of distaste she embraced the damp rusty bars, feeling for the lock.

Martha bit her lip in concentration, "This would be a lot easier if I could actually see the lock. Can you tell from where you're standing if the pick is in the lock?"

"Just a little bit to your right," Jack muttered, "No, other right."

Martha moved the pick and it sank into the key hole, she wiggled the tumblers. Nearly fifteen minutes passed as Martha wiggled and turned the small picks. Finally with a satisfying click the door groaned open a few inches. She looked up at Jack with an expression of exhilaration on her face. "I did it," she uttered, sounding disbelieving.

"Indeed you did. Now get me out of mine, and hurry. I don't think we'll remain alone for much longer," Jack spoke, his tone dropping to an urgent whisper.

Martha nodded in response and knelt in front of his door. This time the lock yielded without major resistance, it swung open almost as soon as Martha started turning the tumblers. Jack didn't wait for the door to swing open but wrenched it wide. He motioned for a still kneeling Martha to follow and raced towards the stairs.

They both stood in the stair well, motionless, the sound of marching feet echoed from behind the unbolted door at the top of the flight. They waited breathlessly as the sound of feet receded into the distance; as soon as silence descended the pair sprinted to the top.

"How will we find the Doctor? This complex is huge, and he could be anywhere by now," Martha murmured to Jack.

As way of answer the ex-Time Agent held up his left wrist, which a large leather device adorned. "This. I should be able to track his life sign with its sensors." He flipped over the cover and brought up the necessary screen, green dots moved like dancing fireflies over the surface. "This man had quite the installation. I count maybe forty, maybe fifty people all told. Hmm…let me just recalibrate this for Time Lord life signs." He fiddled with the dials until the multitude of green lights faded, to be replaced with one constant blue light.

Martha looked over his shoulder, her brow furrowed in concentration, "I can't make heads or tails of this. Which way?"

"That general direction," Jack pointed to the eastern end of the building, "It'll be difficult to follow that exact root since we don't have an overlay of the building."

Jack peered around the corner, checking to make sure the coast was clear. It was. Jack then Martha slid out from the protective cover of the door. With soft footfalls they followed the small blue light. Several times false ends made it necessary to reverse course and try another path. Martha was soon quivering with apprehension, so far they had been lucky and had avoided any patrols, but it was only a matter of time. Jack held up his hand, voices were issuing out of an open door farther down the corridor.

"…incredible, the subject has secondary organs for all of the major ones. I wonder if that's a hereditary trait or whether they engineered themselves that way. I mean, a species of this level must be capable of something like that."

"I know, the subject is simply amazing, and to think that we have it at our disposal."

"Hey Edward, get over here. I think the subject might be waking up…"

The voices faded as they moved away from the door. Jack growled underneath his breath, "Calling the Doctor it, they don't realize that he is worth a dozen – no a hundred of them."

"Doctor – in – there?" Martha mouthed.

Jack nodded and spoke into her ear, "Go get the Doctor, I'll take care of the scientists."

They looked at each other and then stepped around the corner and into the room. It was a laboratory, the most state-of-the-art equipment hummed and purred along the outer wall. Harsh florescent lighting shone off of white tile floors. Two scientists stood in the far corner, their backs to the door talking over a series of x-rays. In the center of the room stood a stainless steel table, and on it the Doctor lay. He was held down by wide leather straps bucked around his chest and extremities. Martha's heart rose to her throat at the sight of the Doctor, he made a pitiful figure. Sweat had soaked his thin shirt and he fought the restraining bands, moaning.

Jack took one look at the Doctor and his eyes narrowed in anger, and then fell on the scientists. He left Martha standing by the door and silently approached the two men, who were deep in discussion, oblivious all around them.

Martha gave Jack one cursory look before going about her own task, in six strides she stood by the Doctor's side. "Hold on, I'm going to get you out of here Doctor," she muttered softly. With trembling fingers she tore at the straps that bound his wrists. How could they do this to the man who had saved this world and so many others countless times?

"M-martha? Is t-hat you?" the Doctor mumbled. His lids were half open, the eyes beneath were bloodshot and unfocused.

"Yes Doctor, it's me. Just stay still and I'll get you out of these straps," Martha said, a note of desperation in her voice. Her fingers scrabbled at the bands on his ankles. "Do you know what they did to you? Did they give you anything?"

"Yes, t-they gave me–," A muted tone came from deep with in the Doctor's throat. His face twisted weakly in frustration, he tried again but failed to produce an English word, "I c-can't…d-don't know word…fuzzy in head. Promise me…get back to T-TARDIS, she can 'elp."

"I promise Doctor, I'll get you back to the TARDIS. Can you stand? I need to get you out of here." Martha finished with the last strap around the Doctor's chest and supported his weak attempts to sit up. Jack appeared at her side to take the Doctor's other arm. She noticed the sonic screwdriver resting on a tray near the table and stuffed it into her pocket. Martha glanced briefly back to see the bodies of the scientists lying prone were they had once stood. In response to her questioning glace he said simply, "Unconscious."

Between them they lifted the Doctor to his feet. He attempted to aid them but fell limply back into their support as soon as they moved away from the table. Together the three maneuvered through the door. Martha looked at Jack, "Which way do we go now?"

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor said softly startling both of them, "Give me the sonic screwdriv-ah!" A grimace of pain shot across the Doctor's face. He paused, closing his eyes, when he opened them again he was steadier on his feet and his eyes were clearer.

Martha pulled it out of her pocket and closed it in one of the Doctor's hands. He glanced briefly at the settings and fumbled with the dials. Satisfied he disengaged one of his arms from Martha's shoulders and held up the sonic screwdriver. "Left, we need to go left."

They followed his instructions, the Doctor supported by Jack, followed by Martha. As they progressed the Doctor seemed to grow stronger. Periodically, his face twisted in pain and he would close his eyes. After one such occurrence he spoke, "I can only suppress the –," again the muted tone, "-for so long. Martha, you need to get me to the TARDIS as quickly as possible."

"I know, I pro–," she paused, startled by the sound of oncoming people. They were halfway down a short corridor, and the sound came from around the next corner. Jack slid out from underneath the Doctor. Martha quickly moved to support the swaying Time Lord. Jack opened a nearby door, a janitor's closet, and shoved them both inside, "I'll lead them off, get out as quick as you can." He then shut the door with a snap, hiding the two occupants. By this time the voices were upon them. Martha heard the muffled cries of "intruder".

They waited in the closet for what seemed an eternity after the running footsteps had faded from hearing. Martha gingerly opened the door and stuck her head out into the hallway. "All clear."

She helped the Doctor get to his feet. The brief rest seem to have done him some good, he stood almost unsupported. Martha knew that it was only a stopgap measure, what they had given him would eventually erode whatever attempts the Doctor had made to boost his flagging systems.

They emerged from the closet, the Doctor leaning lightly on Martha's arm. He motioned in the direction in which they needed to go. He seemed to be reserving all his energy simply for motion. The two of them headed off in the direction, after a few more hallways and pauses to consult the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor indicated a nondescript door.

"Through there…outside," the Doctor was panting with the effort to stay upright. With a strangled cry the doubled over, clutching his abdomen. Martha kneeled, "What's wrong?"

"Stand up and put your hands on your head," Martha sprang to her feet, turning on the spot. Behind her the youthful guard from the cell stood, holding a shaking gun pointed directly at her heart. "Do it now or I'll shoot."

Martha raised her hands above her head and moved slowly back to stand near the Doctor. "It's okay, just don't shoot. I'll come with you," she spoke in a soothing voice, hoping to calm the clearly nervous youth.

She bent to help the Doctor to his feet. Time seemed to slow. The guard, spooked by her movement, pulled the trigger. Martha saw the faint smoke rise from the gun, but before she could register what was happening a shape leaped in front of her.

"No!," Martha cried, catching the falling body of the Doctor. A rust colored stain blossomed on his shirt. The guard took in the scene before him and his eyes widened in horror. Before the echo of the gun rapport faded he turned tail and fled.

"Doctor, can you hear me?" Martha searched franticly for a pulse. With relief she found it, a strong but slow. The Time Lord opened his eyes; they were glassy, but he blinked and his gaze focused on Martha.

"I couldn't let them hurt you…they've hurt too many…," He stiffened and closed his eyes, "TARDIS…quickly!" With a strangled cry his eyes slipped closed, and his head dropped to the floor as he sank into unconsciousness.

Martha hastily tore strips of cloth from the bottom of her jacket. Besides the initial alarming spreading stain, the blood had slowed. Must be a virtue of alien biology Martha thought as she applied the makeshift bandage about the Doctor's mid-abdomen. Now it was ever more crucial to get the Doctor to the TARDIS, but Martha wasn't sure she would be able to so, not without help anyway.

"Now or never. I promised you Doctor that I'd get you to the TARDIS, and so I will," Martha told the unconscious figure at her feet. As Martha looked out the door she could see the setting sun highlighting the tops of the trees golden. She couldn't help but think, Will the Doctor ever see another sunrise?

F/N: If you feel inclined I would love to hear from you! Thank you!