Hello everyone again! IM SO SORRY FOR NOT GETTING THIS CHAPTER OUT TO YOU SOONER! My friends have been coming over to my house during the summer, and they make fun of me and my fandoms (especially Doctor Who) so I'm not really able to write that much. This chapter is not as long as the last, and for that I'm sorry. But the next chapter is going to come in a day or two, and it is much longer than this one. I would like to answer one of the reviews- Yes, I am actually working on the explanation on how the Doctor got there, and the mystery of Captain Jack Harkness leaving the Doctor in the prison, but this wont come until after the next two chapters. Anyway enjoy the story :)

Chapter 10.

*Cough cough*

His backs lurches forward, trying to rid the searing hot water from his burning throat. Water spits from his mouth, splattering on the dirt floor in little dots. His head hangs defeated from his shoulders, unable to take on any more torture. His chest rises and falls as his lungs rid the water, and replace it with sweet oxygen. The water dribbles from the corners of his longing mouth and down his face, down his aching body, and onto the floor beneath,"S-stop. P-please." The Doctor tried his best to pronounce his words of speech clearly and efficiently, but his voice failed him.

He hears, but does not see the bucket being thrown against the wall in back of him, making the entire room echo in great vibrations.

The knuckles of Killer is the only reply that he got. The bones dug into his solar plexus, hitting his windpipe with it. The Doctor gasped, curling his back away from the pain, trying to cover his injury, but the chains withheld him from such actions. Air failed to reach his burning lungs, leaving him in an uncontrollable cough session. The shackles ripped through his tender nerves as his body searched for air. His toes gripped the dirt under his feet in nervousness.

"I've already told you," Killer screams, putting his face in front of the Doctor's,"Just sign the damn contract!"

Just do it. The Doctor told himself. It will be alright, how bad could it be? All of this will be over, all of it. I just have to put my name right there... But how could he? It was murder, and he knew it. It wouldn't be alright if he just put his name right there. He would be their slave practically, doing their bidding,"N-no..."

"Well then...You know what that means." Killer turns to someone, reaching for an unknown object that will bring pain to him no matter what most likey. The Doctor just stays where he is; held captive by the chains on his arms and neck that rubbed it's rusted metal against his soft skin, rashing and burning his flesh. His eyes were only able to be fixed on a certain point on the floor, which he welcomed. He did not want to see the faces of the laughing creatures that lay in the shadows stare and mimic his tortured mind. He did not want to feel the embarrassment that he so desperately deserved. He did not want to have any of it.

"Ya know," Killer booms, walking over to the Doctor. The Doctor just stays there in his place like he was supposed to. He could see the glossy black combat boots come closer and closer to his exposed body. His hearts raced, beating harder and harder against his chest. He knew what was coming, what always came after he said no.

Killer approached the Doctor, holding the syringe up to his mangled face,"Doctor, it could all be over. You don't have to do this anymore. I know you're not a stupid guy, so just sign the contract. It's simple. And if ya don't..." Killer said, putting some slight pressure from his thumb onto the small knob, automatically making the tip of the needle spit out the neon yellow liquid from its contents. The Doctor's entire body flinched in fear from the motion, kicking his feet back in order to put as much distance from him and Killer. Killer only smiled in delight and said,"I think you know exactly what happens if you don't do what say. Trust me Doc, you will say yes at one point or another. It's only a matter of time...But, if you refuse again, then I guess I'll have to just-"

The pressure was on. The decision swirled inside the Doctor's head and mind, tainting everything that he was for and against. It was this decision that changed his future forever. It was this exact moment that made him what he was in the future. I have to. Just do it. Come on. Killer stretched his hand with the needle and wavered it next to his neck. He could feel the cool tip touch his warm body, sending spikes of cold run down his back. Do it.

"W-wait." The Doctor stuttered.

Killer's hand stopped and froze in its place. Killer withdrew his hand from the Doctor's trembling skin, but only slightly, while his eyes were still fixed on the unmoving form at his mercy. The Doctor avoided his gaze of self pity and instead focused on the spot on the floor, like he had any choice anyway. He let the stare sink in, and let the guilt that was about to come penetrate his soul. It was the wrong thing to do, but he had to. Killer was right, he was going to give in at some point, so might was well give into it right then and there.

"I mean, hold on a second, please?" the Doctor said, straining his eyes to see the needle pull back from his skin. His body relaxed from the tension that was so great when he saw the person next to Killer withdraw into the shadows that engulfed everything in its path.

"Then you agree? You agree to my terms, to everything? Do you, Doctor, agree to do whatever I say?"

A lump formed in the back of the Doctor's throat. A lump that contained every piece of dignity and humanity within himself. A lump that he swallowed, and with it, everything that mattered to him. It was gone. It was done. He was gone. He was done,"Yes."

"In that case," Killer spoke, pulling a folded piece of paper from his inside uniform pockets. He undid it, carefully making sure nothing got out of place. Everything that Killer did was perfectly precise. He did not want to ruin what was going to happen,"Just sign here."

Someone came around from the Doctor's right, unlocking the shackle around his right wrist. The Doctor pulled his hand to his chest, rotating the bones and flesh from its numbness that lingered there for over four days. Killer gently placed the clean edged contract on the dirt floor in front of the Doctor's face, which he then laid a blue inked pen right beside it.

The Doctor stared at both, wondering if his choice would change the future. His future. And it did, but he never knew that. He stretched his arm and strained to reach the pen and paper. The pads of the Doctor's fingers brushed against the tip of the pen, but was not able to reach. The shackles around his neck dug even more and more as he lengthened his arm to reach his freedom. His fingers curled around the pen and paper, relieved that he was finally one step closer to being saved. The plastic in his hands felt of chrome and shine, smooth to the touch. His hands shook as he brought the pen down on the paper. The paper sunk from the touch of the tip, making the paper sink into the dirt floor that stained the back of the contract. His hand moved in mechanical movements, getting a feel for his old signature. But he completed it.

He pulled back his arm, admiring his writing, but then feeling a sudden loss. He felt the future guilt slowly fall onto his shoulders. I hope I didn't make the wrong decision. This is bad. That was the very first time the Doctor felt the true horror of that promise on paper. But the future was worse. MUCH worse.

"Everything is in order now." Killer said, smiling at the ink entwining itself in the fibers of the paper. He looked down upon the paper in greed and satisfaction, as if everything that he had ever hoped and dreamed of finally was falling into place,"You know, Doctor, the way that you fight is very interesting. The way that you beat one of my own personal guards to death, just because of your lady friend is amazing. I think that that advantage is one that should not go to waste, don't you think?" He looked up from his trance at the beaten Doctor, greed spread fully in his features. The Doctor just stayed where he was, in the shackles grasp.

Behind him, he could feel the heavy breaths of men puff against his bare neck as they fitted the numerous amounts of keys into the ingenious locks of the shackles. The clicks of each echoed throughout the cell, burning into the Doctor's memory and mind. The Doctor moved in slow motion, so as not to change the minds of his superior. He couldn't live like that anymore. It has to change. The Doctor stayed in his place, as Killer and the unknown retreated through the door of the cell. He admired the calmness of it fact that everything was so quiet and settle, instead of it being tainted by torture. He was free, and April was too, but at a cost. And the cost wasn't anything good either. The lives of so many creatures now rested on the Doctor's conscious. The lives that he would have to take away settled on his shaken mind.

Does that mean I'm a murderer now?

6 years and 11 months later...

I know I know, this chapter left off on a crappy ending, but I just had to. When I wanted to make a real cliff hanger for this chapter, 6 years and 11 months really made me think of what might there be to come for the Doctor and April. Anyway, please review. Leave me any suggestions and/or questions that you might have.