Author's note: Many thanks to GuessWho, Brownbug and Just Me who kindly left reviews for the last few chapters. I hope the last one wasn't too harrowing for you, 'cause I'm afraid this one may be even more so (please see warning below)... I make no apology though, because one of my aims when I originally wrote this was to try and get a handle on just how bad the Master is; and that he may not be as fully in control of his actions as he believes! There is an explanation, of course; but for now, on with the story!

Chapter Ten : Rescue.'

Warning - this chapter contains scenes of violent, non-consensual sex. Please do not read further if this is likely to offend you.

Martha dials Jack's number as she hurries to her car, the memory of her mother's haunted expression tightening her throat. All she's told Francine is that she has urgent business in Cardiff – but Francine is no fool. Somehow she knows it's much more than that – she knows her daughter only too well. Equally, Francine knows that once Martha has made up her mind, she might just as well shout at the moon. So all Francine had said to her daughter on parting was, 'Be safe. Come back to us, Martha – please.' She hadn't wanted to know what was so urgent that Martha had to drop everything so soon after promising to stay with them after the terrible events of the Year That Never Was. As they'd hugged in farewell, Martha had thought of all the things she wanted to say but dare not. It was too soon after everything that had happened – she doesn't want to tell her family that Saxon is on the loose again, doesn't want to see their naked fear. Its better they don't know...

'Jack? Martha. No, I haven't been able to get hold of him yet. How should Iknow? You know what he's like! What? He – how? Look - I'll be with you in a couple of hours, I hope. I'll try ringing the Doctor again now. See you soon.'

Martha tries again to reach the Doctor. Again it goes through to voicemail. If he doesn't pick up soon, the voicemail folder will be full. Come on, Doctor – where are you?

'Doctor? It's Martha – where are you? We need you – the Master has escaped from Torchwood – long story - and he's taken Gwen hostage! I'm on my way to Cardiff now, so when you get this message, please, please get here as fast as you can!'

The Doctor has been ignoring Martha's mobile – it's been buzzing away in his pocket for ages; and although he feels bad about it, in all honesty he's not in a position to act on whatever problem Martha might have right now. So best not to even listen to her message, because it'll just distract him from the problem he's already dealing with – which could mean the difference between life and death for a rather large number of people. So he sends a silent apology to Martha and continues up the ruined stairwell.

Gwen wakes with a start as a hand clamps itself over her mouth, and gives a muffled shout of surprise.

'Shit! Oh – it's you! I thought you were a flippin' rapist or something – I didn't recognise you!' She pushes Saxon's hand away, heart hammering in her chest as she twists head to blink blearily at him. Beside her, the Master leans back and grins wolfishly.

'That can be arranged...' His eyes glitter as he looks her up and down, reaches out to stroke a breast.

Gwen scowls, suddenly perturbed. 'That's not remotely funny. Don't even joke about it.'

She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she takes in Saxon's new appearance. With white blond hair gelled into spikes and wearing the fashionably scruffy blue jeans, trainers and a black hooded sweatshirt she'd bought the night before, he looks ridiculously young - it seems impossible that he could ever have been Prime Minister of Great Britain. Gwen is impressed.

'You look so different– gave me a fright, you did.' She swings her legs out of bed.'What time is it?' With her back to him, Gwen doesn't see Saxon's expression harden. He grabs her shoulders and violently pushes her back down onto the bed.

'It's time for some more of this, Gwen...' His hand dives between her legs and she gasps, half laughing.

'You're insatiable, you are! Pack it in, I need the-'

Saxon's mouth crushes hers and her eyes widen first in surprise, then annoyance. She struggles, irritation turning suddenly to real annoyance as he growls, holding her arms above her head and grinding his body against hers, his arousal obvious.

'Stop it - don't!' she gasps, the first tendrils of fear creeping into her voice as he ignores her, the strength of his grip starting to really hurt.

He whips one hand from her wrist and slaps her face, hard. 'Don't evertell me what to do!'

Gwen gapes at him in shock.

He fumbles one-handed with his jeans, frees himself and brutally thrusts into her. She gasps in pain. Then anger kicks in, and she bucks wildly beneath him, trying to throw him off.

'That's it, Gwen – that's good!' He laughs, excited by her struggles, and thrusts harder, his eyes dark pools of lust and madness as he pounds into her.

'You – mad - bastard – how dareyou!' Gwen cries angrily, and spits in his face.

He stills, then groans and renews his frantic thrusting, his eyes wild.

'I dare, Gwen, because –' he draws a shuddering breath, speaks in time with his thrusts. 'I - am - your - Master! Say - it!'

'What? Oh my God, get off me, you –' He's mad, totally insane!

His moves one hand and grips it hand tightly around her throat and Gwen begins to choke, desperate for air. Her free hand grabs at his hair and pulls, which she realises in despair only seems to excite him more.

'Say it! Go on! Say it - you – are - my - Master...' he's mad and desperate and as her vision begins to darken Gwen knows she'll die if she doesn't do as he wants. What are words, after all...?

'You-' she can barely speak and Saxon suddenly seems to realise this, releasing the pressure on her throat. She coughs, drawing in a huge lungful of air.

'Say it, Gwen!' and his hand tightens, relaxes.

Gwen sobs. 'You –are –'

'SAY IT!' He snarls, and continues to thrust, sweat running down his face. His expression is contorted – his eyes slits of dark malice and lust, teeth gritted as his climax approaches.

'My – Master –'

Saxon shudders against her, groaning softly as Gwen sobs in humiliation. Finally spent, he gasps and sags momentarily against her and Gwen sees her chance. She twists and kicks. Wrenching one hand free, she rakes her nails across his face, aiming for his eyes. She misses, but draws blood across his cheek. He's surprised and she manages to wriggle out from under him. She falls off the bed, gasping in fear and anger and dives for the bathroom. Flinging herself back against the door and flicking the lock with shaking hands, she collapses against it, gasping in fright. She braces herself, expecting the door to come crashing in on her, but it doesn't happen.

'Oh – my - God...' She wants to throw up. The Bastard had raped her. He'd raped her! Why – when she'd been glad enough to... Gwen swallows as she recalls in vivid detail exactly what they had done just a few hours before, and how much she'd enjoyed it. How could she have done this? Not that Saxon wasn't fit – that much hadn't ever been in dispute. It was the ease with which she had betrayed everything dear to her – Torchwood, Jack – and Rhys. Rhys – how could she ever look him in the eye, after this? This was one secret, one betrayal too far. Gwen chokes back a sob. She's got to stay focussed, in case he comes in after her. Calm down, Gwen. Think. If he comes in now, I'll... Gwen has visions of running naked into the street and knows that if that's what it takes...but the door stays closed, and slowly her panicked breathing eases, although she continues to shake like a leaf.

How had Saxon persuaded her to break him out of the Hub? Had he hypnotised her? Gwen struggles to remember exactly how she could ever have thought that it was a good idea – it goes totally against her character. How had Saxon managed it? She doesn't know; but she can't deny that it did happen, however surreal it now seems to her. She wants to shower every last trace of him off her, she wants to go wants to run far away from Harold Saxon - as far away as she possibly can. She ignores the sick feeling that accompanies recollections of each time he'd touched her - and suddenly wonders if his close physical proximity had amplified some sort of hypnotic power. She recalls Jack warning them all that Saxon is dangerous, and suddenly begins to understand. Suddenly remembering how Saxon had entered her mind, a terrifying thought occurs to Gwen – does it mean that he can read her thoughts? She stares at the door, wonders what is happening beyond it...

Perhaps she can bluff it out; go back in there, get dressed and make her escape once they leave the building. But surely it's gone too far for that; she'd attacked him. Will he let that go unpunished? What if he decides he can't take the risk that she'll talk? She gulps. And if Saxon did murder his Ministers – and somehow that now seems all too possible - will he have any hesitation in killing her? Somehow she doesn't think so, not after this. But why didn't he dump her the minute she got him out of the Hub? Probably because he was sick and weak and needed her help, Gwen realises, and curses herself for a gullible fool. But he'd seemed fine only moments ago; quite chipper in fact. Either it had all been a very convincing act, or he's made a remarkable recovery. She thinks of Jack, and his inability to die, and another thought strikes her – what if Jack and the Master are from the same planet? She has never asked Jack outright if he is human – what if he isn't? But Jack, although he can be hard, has never behaved like that...lord knows she'd given him ample opportunity to make a move on her, but although he'd looked long and hard, he had never acted on the attraction Gwen feels sure is there...

Gwen wraps herself in a towel and sits miserably on the side of the bath, unable to decide what she should do next and waiting for Saxon to kick the door down and finish her off. For fifteen long minutes she waits and curses her own stupidity. Talk about men thinking with their balls.. well,.she'd been a right push over, hadn't she? She tries to slow her heartbeat, listens for any sound from the other room, expecting the door to explode inwards at any second. Nothing happens, and still there is no sound from the other room. Is he simply waiting on the other side of the door for her to come out? She shivers and waits some more.

A suspicion grows in her mind and the tension of not knowing builds until she wants to scream. She can't sit here like this all day, waiting for him to come in and ... better to get it over with than this unbearable suspense! What she will say or do if he isstill here, Gwen has no idea. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door.

But the room is deserted. Fighting the urge to laugh hysterically, Gwen heaves a shaky sigh of relief. She knows even before she's looked that her mobile and car keys have gone. Additionally, the hotel phone has been ripped out of its socket. He's probably taken the last of her cash too, the bastard! How could she have been so completely taken in by him? He must have hypnotised her somehow, he must have. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about.

What Gwen hadn't anticipated is that Saxon would take her clothes; they're nowhere in sight, and after two circuits of the room she realises that he's stranded her to buy him getaway time. With no mobile and nothing to wear, Gwen is going to have to brave reception. As she opens the door she sighs with relief as a maid walks by.

'Excuse me?'

The maid looks at her, taking in her distressed state. 'Are you alright, Miss?'

'No, no – I'm not. It's a bit embarrassing, actually...' Gwen swallows, hating the lie. 'My boyfriend and I had a big argument and he's buggered- sorry, he's cleared off , but he's taken my purse and my clothes... and the phone in our room isn't working. I wonder – would you mind letting me into one of the other rooms so that I can make a quick call? A friend of mine will bring me some clothes and some cash to pay for the room...'

'But of course, my lovely. Are you quite sure you're all right? You seem a bit...'

'Yes, yes, I'm fine, thanks, I'm just a bit upset... you know... thanks so much. I really appreciate it.' Gwen slips into the empty room which the maid opens for her, and makes for the phone.

'Jack – it's Gwen.' Her calm finally deserts her as she hears Jack's concerned tones.

Several miles away, Jack's expression shows alarm. 'Gwen? Are you okay? Where are you? Hey – calm down, calm down. Just tell me where you are. No – it's alright. Don't – Gwen, take a deep breath. Come on now – that's it. Don't go all hysterical on me... attagirl. Look – whatever you did, it's not your fault, okay? What's the name of the place? Okay, I got it. Just sit tight. I'll be right there. What? You need what? Ok – I'll get Tosh to get them from your locker and I'll be with you as soon as I can. Gwen – stay calm for me, okay?'

Jack puts the phone down, slams a fist on the table. 'Dammit!'

Taking a couple of very deep breaths, he opens his office door. Tosh looks up blearily, her eyes bloodshot from reviewing hour after hour of grainy CCTV footage.

'Jack?' Her tone is concerned.

Jack nods grimly. 'Gwen's safe.' At Tosh's expression of delight, Jack holds up a hand. 'But the bastard raped her - took her clothes, car and mobile. So I need some clothes for her, if you have them.'

'I'll come with you –' Tosh gets to her feet.

Jack shakes his head. 'I need you to stay on the CCTV, Tosh. Only now you're just looking for Saxon. Last known location is the M4 Travelodge at Pontyclun.'

Tosh opens her mouth to argue, but seeing Jack's thunderous expressions just nods wordlessly and hurries away to find some clothes for Gwen.

Thirty-five minutes later (he'd floored it) Jack knocks on the door of Gwen's room; he can see it's on the latch but thinks better of barging in; he'd stopped at reception and improvised, explaining that Mrs Jones had asked him to bring her business suit as she'd been called to a meeting and it was quicker than going home to change. He doesn't like the glint in the clerks' eye but can't be bothered to explain further; let them think what they will.

'Gwen?' he calls softly and slowly pushes the door open.

'Jack!' Gwen is sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a duvet. She's shivering and her face is the very picture of misery. In a few strides, Jack is beside her, gathering her into a comforting embrace as she bursts into tears.

'Hey, easy, Gwen. You're safe now.' Jack is worried – Gwen is a strong woman but with a sensitive heart - which is both her strength and her weakness. The desire to pound seven kinds of shit out of the Master all but overwhelms him and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. Gwen doesn't need to deal with his emotions; she has enough trauma of her own to cope with.

'Jack – I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking! Why the bloody hell did I do it? I can't believe what I – and he –'she chokes back heaving sobs, tears streaming down her face.

'Sshhh... you don't have to explain anything to me Gwen. ' Jack strokes the hair from her face tenderly. 'As I said before, I know what Saxon is capable of. Did he – hurt you in any other way?' Stupid question, Jack, he reproaches himself the minute the words leave his lips and he hears Gwen's choked sob.

'Oh my God, Jack – he – I was so sure he was right and you were wrong and I helped him and he...' Gwen burns with the shame of it. 'And I bloody lethim, Jack! In fact I even enjoyed it! What kind of a person does that make me, tell me that?'

She pounds her fists against Jack's chest in despair. Jack draws her back to him in a fierce hug and speaks firmly over the top of her head.

'What it makes you, Gwen, is a normal human being who fell foul of a sociopathic bastard who will use anymeans to get what he wants, when he wants it, without any thought for the people he uses. Believe me, you weren't the first, and you probably won't be the last. I need to find him and stop him. Permanently.'

Gwen pulls away from him. 'Oh no – Jack, no – let the law take care of him, please!'

Jack's expression is grim. 'They wouldn't stand a chance against him, Gwen. Even without weapons, he's extremely dangerous. I know another guy from the same planet - they're like chalk and cheese, but believe me, you wouldn't want to mess with him, either. He's the only person I know who might outwit Saxon; but if he doesn't show up soon, I'm going to have to do the best I can. If I have to take Saxon out myself, I will.' He pauses. 'I'm probably the only person who is safe from him.'

Gwen sniffs, wipes her face and her nose with a corner of the duvet. 'Don't become a monster like him, Jack, please. Let the authorities deal with it, I'm begging you...'

'I can't do that Gwen. We can't let the truth get out – can you imagine the result if it becomes common knowledge that the last Prime Minister was an alien?' He gently lets go of her and stands, picking up and handing to Gwen the bag of clothes which Tosh had given him earlier. 'I'll wait outside.'

'No – stay here, Jack, please. I'll use the bathroom.' Gwen takes the bag, wraps the duvet tightly around herself and goes into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Jack hears her renewed sobs once she's alone and wishes there was something he could say. He's let her down badly and doesn't quite know how he'll ever forgive himself for what happened.

He paces around the room, noting the discarded garment labels, the empty box which once contained a hair colorant kit. So, Mr Saxon has a new image, does he? What the hell is he up to now?

The Master is experiencing a moment of indecision. Having purchased and eaten some rather appalling sandwiches from the filling station's small shop, he realises that he has no clear idea about what to do or where to go next. He's parked up in the farthest reaches of Cardiff Gate Car Park while he considers the options open to him; with only the cash he'd stolen from Gwen, her car – which he will have to ditch very soon before its recognised – and the clothes he's wearing, those options suddenly begin to seem very limited indeed.

He knows that he has to find the Doctor – not only is he (or to be more precise, his TARDIS) the only way off this wretched planet, but he needs the Doctor's input on something rather more serious... Absently, he touches the ring finger of his right hand and feels a mild surprise that there is no ring. When did he lose that?

The Master knows that this body is not behaving as it should. For one thing, there's still a huge gap in his memory between being shot by Lucy and waking up in the alleyway outside the pub. For another, he still feels like death warmed up. He'd felt great earlier; full of energy and life after waking up with Gwen beside him, as evidenced by his interest in matters sexual. He'd supposed that his DNA must have somehow overridden his desire not to regenerate and had still done so after being shot; but if that was the case, why did he still have the same body as before? That shouldn'thave happened. Was it an incomplete regeneration? He'd heard of this – it could happen if a Time Lord was taken by surprise and didn't have time to prepare mentally for the change. Such regenerations were said to be unstable and careful monitoring by a medical team was usually needed to avoid total degeneration and ensure a subsequent and successful regeneration. That must be it, mustn't it?

His hearts aren't working at full capacity, either – he's pretty sure that one of them is working only intermittently. and for much of the period between waking up in the alleyway and now it hasn't been working at all; the other had also failed momentarily after his first little interaction with Gwen. It had probably not been the wisest thing to do, in hindsight, but for some reason this body seems rather virile; and the idea that it would annoy the Doctor had also been rather pleasing... most importantly he had learned from his time as Lucy's 'husband' that sex is a useful tool with which to bind a human female to his will. But it seems that he may have underestimated Gwen Cooper. A shame – she's a feisty character and would have been a welcome diversion from the tedium of waiting for the Doctor to reappear...

His chest still aches where the cracked ribs are slowly healing (faster than humans but still too slowly for a Time Lord) and where Gwen had thumped him to kick-start his heart; he suddenly worries that if it fails again whilst he is alone, and if his regenerative capabilities havesomehow been compromised, he could be in big trouble. He begins to regret his treatment of Gwen. His self control had deserted him, which is another worry. The other worry is the drums – they're still present, but after his collapse in MI5 custody, they've been unusually muffled. Its not that he misses them, exactly – Rassilon knows, he's been desperate to get rid of them for longer than he can remember – but he doesn't know why this should be so, and it worries him that he doesn't know.

But perhaps the most frightening thing of all is that he can no longer seem to think clearly, or to make coherent plans to better his situation. His mind, normally razor sharp, feels as though it is being smothered; he feels almost permanently confused and the unfamiliar sensations frighten him. Is this Lucy's DNA over-riding his? Is this what it's like to be human? No wonder they seek distraction with such single minded intensity...

He also feels permanently exhausted, which is another new and very unwelcome symptom. Normally he can operate on very little sleep and is able to extract the maximum nutritional value from any food source available. Now – well, he feels weak and hungry all the time; and always the damn headache with its accompanying –if muffled - drumbeat, is never far below the surface of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him should he let his guard down. If only he could get a good night's sleep and wake refreshed... his eyes slide shut.

Gwen emerges from the bathroom, still feeling as if she's living a waking nightmare. What is she to say to Rhys? Omigod, Rhys- 'Jack! Saxon's got my mobile! It's got all my numbers, everything, in it. If he gets into that...' Gwen has a sudden fear that Saxon might get his revenge on Gwen by attacking Rhys.

'Oh he will, you can bet on it. I'll have Tosh put a lock on it. Whether that will work, I don't know, but if he does use it then at least we should be able to track him down.'

'Jack, what if he gets to Rhys...?' How Saxon would know who Rhys is Gwen isn't sure, but she's sure he could take an educated guess.

'I hear what you're saying and we'll keep an eye on him. But I don't think Saxon would be that stupid. He'd guess we'd think of that.' In fact Jack isn't sure of anything where Saxon is concerned, but he doesn't tell Gwen this.

They leave the Travelodge via a rear fire exit.

'Gwen, I want Owen to check you over when we get back to the Hub.' Jack tells her as they speed back towards central Cardiff. Once in the familiar surroundings of the SUV, Gwen seems to perk up a little.

'I'm okay now, Jack, really – it was just the shock. The worst part is that while he was close, I fancied him something rotten. I can't believe it... how am I ever going to face Rhys?'
'Gwen, listen to me - Saxon raped you, pure and simple. He may not have used physical violence to start with, but he violated your mind to get what he wanted; it still counts as assault. Just because you thought you wanted it doesn't mean you were a willing participant. Just remember that. Want me to speak to Rhys?'

The thought of Jack telling Rhys that another man has raped his fiancée is mortifying. 'I don't think so Jack, but thanks.' Now Gwen understands exactly how rape victims really feel. The sense of violation is overwhelming, and so is the feeling that you should have been able to stop it, somehow. She shakes her head. No point dwelling on' if only'.

'Okay. But if you change your mind...'

Gwen gulps and nods. She doesn't trust herself to say anything else.