Jack lunged forward and took a swing with all the strength he could muster. His fist landed square and solid on the Doctor's face with enough force to turn the Time Lord's head.
Slowly, the Doctor turned his head back with a dark smile, leveling an even gaze on Jack.
Was he immune to pain too, Jack wondered and braced for the coming attack. He expected a punch or a kick, but instead the Doctor grabbed his wrist lightening fast and yanked hard. Thrown off balance by the sudden and unexpected maneuver, Jack staggered forward and that was when the Doctor landed a blow to his chest that turned into a push slamming him onto the console.
"Aren't you going to be fun," the Doctor said with a dark laugh.
"Not in the least." Jack lifted his leg and planted his foot in the Doctor's stomach. He pushed hard and forced the Time Lord to take a couple of steps back. Just what Jack needed. He leaped off the console and charged.
The Doctor easily deflected the charge and used Jack's lumbering momentum to send him off to the side.
Fortunately for Jack, he landed on the thick padded chair. Not so fortunate he landed stomach first. With the wind knocked out of him, Jack slumped down to his knees and groaned in pain and fatigue. He felt defeated. Even though he couldn't die, he still lived like a human being and right now, he hurt like one too.
He was helpless as the homicidal Time Lord wrapped both hands around his neck and lifted him to his feet. He was swung around and shoved face first into the console. He felt his head break some of the dials and maybe a lever or two. He also felt his own warm blood slowly ooze out a gaping wound on his forehead.
The Doctor released Jack's neck and for a moment, Jack thought the losing battle was over. Then he felt a soft rope slither around his throat and Jack was confused at how the rope seemed to be moving on its own. He turned his head to see more of the strange rope, but was instead met with a fist cracking down on his head just above the eye.
The sudden and new pain shocked through Jack's skull. He moaned, dazed from the blow, but was somehow acutely aware of the tears streaming down his face. So, this was it, he thought as he was struck in the same place again and again. Beaten and strangled to death by his friend, the Doctor. No. He had to stop this.
Somehow, his mind earned some clarity through the haze of physical pain and emotional hurt. He tried once more to move, to fight, to somehow stop the Doctor. His attempts were feeble at best and he found he couldn't even begin to work free from the Time Lord's hold.
"Still some fight in you, I see," the Doctor said. "I think it's time I put an end to that."
Jack opened his eyes and blinked away the tears and blood seeping in. He stopped short at the sight of his own eyes reflected in the highly polished blade of a carving knife.
"How many times can you be stabbed before you die?" the Doctor said in a disturbingly evil tone as he slowly lifted the knife up and out of Jack's view.
He knew it was coming and gritted his teeth in anticipation. He knew what to expect. The feel of the knife sliding in was like an old friend conjuring up painful memories out of spite. Jack had been stabbed numerous times before in his immortal life, but this time hurt more than any other.
The Doctor quickly pulled the blade out letting the blood splatter across the console and stabbed again. He repeated the merciless attack until Jack's body finally fell limp. "You didn't even beg, you son of a bitch," he said in genuine disappointment and dropped the bloodied knife to the floor.
He grabbed Jack by the collar of the military coat, pulling him off the console, and heard a faint moan. "Oh, you are still alive," the Doctor said sounding rather amused in a vicious way.
Suddenly, the rope around Jack's throat stiffened like a steel cable and once again, he gasped for breath. He was lifted off his feet by the rope that seemed to have a life of its own and through his blurring vision, he stared at the strange rope. Was it coming out of the Doctor's back? Then, he was thrown at a standing mirror propped up between the two cushioned chairs.
Jack expected to crash into the mirror, but the sound of breaking glass and the expected pain did not happen. Instead, he went through the mirror as if it were liquid and landed on the floor of a dark room on the other side. His foggy, barely conscious mind couldn't comprehend what just happened as he lay on the cool smooth surface.
Sharp pain throbbed in his ribs and back, and blood flowed much too freely from the countless stab wounds. He was dying; he knew it better then anyone. As he lay on his back staring up at nothing, all he could think about was that terrible expression of pure glee on the Doctor's face as he died.
.
.
Gwen settled into a chair at the conference table next to Toshiko. "That was a really good idea," she said to her co-coworker. "Testing the sweat from the Doctor's hand for a DNA match…" She nodded her head and smiled.
"Thanks," Tosh said and smiled sheepishly.
Owen finally sauntered in with Ianto following behind him. As Ianto took a seat, Owen walked up and tossed a manila folder across the table toward Gwen. She caught it and opened it revealing the papers clipped inside. While she read the top paper, Owen looked at the rest of his teammates. "The DNA from the Doctor's hand matches the DNA found on the victims," he said with a slight hesitation as if there were more to say.
"But according to this," Gwen looked up from the paper, "that DNA isn't the Doctor's."
"So what you're saying is…" Tosh started to say.
"That man, whoever he is, might have looked like the Doctor, but he isn't a Time Lord. He's some other kind of alien." Owen finished.
"I'm sure Jack would be relieved to know that," Gwen said. "Whenever he is by now."
"Heaven help him," Ianto said.
.
.
Jack opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath as he resurrected yet again. Once the realization that he was alive set in, he sat up and looked at his surroundings.
The small room, roughly twenty feet wide, had marble smooth black walls, black floor and a presumably black ceiling since it was impossible to tell through the darkness. The only source of light came from the thin rectangular window set in the wall near where he lay.
Jack focused on that window and jumped to his feet. Through it, he could see the console room from between the two chairs, where the mirror sat. The Doctor was nowhere to be seen. The captain pounded on the glass with all his strength hoping it would break and when that didn't work, he felt around the edges for anything he could pry loose. There was nothing. The window made a smooth and seamless transition from glass to wall.
He moved along the wall, running his hand across its smooth surface looking for anything that would help, but whatever that place was, it was the perfect prison. As he approached the back wall, something on the floor in the shadowed corner caught his eye.
Cautiously, Jack made his way toward what appeared to be a pile of clothes, but as he came closer he determined the pile was actually a humanoid figure lying on his or her side. "Hello?" Jack called out in a calm voice so as not to startle the person. When there was no response, he crouched down next to the figure and gently laid his hand on the person's shoulder. "Hey there," he said softly, but quickly lifted his hand when the person flinched under his touch.
Slowly, the figure stirred and turned his head.
Jack could see the face of a young man underneath the stubble of a beard and the mop of brown hair. His eyes were red and sunken, and there were a series of long, healing scratches across his right cheek. He wore a tattered tan tweed jacket and black pants and boots. A red bow tie hung loose and undone around his neck. The man blinked tears and sleep out his eyes as he looked up at Jack, and he sniffed. "Chocolate…" he said in a cracked voice.
"Chocolate?" Jack asked and realized that the man seemed thin, a bit too thin perhaps. The tell-tale signs of starvation.
"Hmm, and peanuts," the young man said turning over and weakly propped himself up on an elbow as he sniffed again, this time toward a pocket on Jack's coat.
Then Jack remembered the chocolate bar and pulled it out. "You have a pretty good nose, friend." He smiled as he removed the wrapping off the chocolate and handed it to the man.
The young man took the candy and eagerly bit off quite a large bite. "Oh, mmm," he said through his full mouth. "Thank you, Jack! This is just what I needed." He smiled wide and took another bite.
"Yes, I'm Jack. Captain Jack Harkness." Jack tried to hide his confusion as he regarded the young man because he was sure he'd never met this man before. He would have remembered the bowtie. "Have we met?"
The man swallowed the last of the chocolate, and with a renewed sense of energy, he sat up and grabbed Jack by the shoulders. "Jack, my old friend," he said with a grin. "I am so glad to see you here," his grin changed to worry, "no, not here. Oh no. Why are you here?"
Jack stared at the strangely familiar face looking back at him trying to figure just who this man is. But somehow, deep down, he already knew the answer. "Doctor?"
.
.
To be continued.