NINE PAGES. MY POOR HANDS :(

Yeah, this chapter is a bit... Not quite so good. Please, if you don't want to read this chapter, then you don't have to.

Donna had been informed of the Doctor's painkiller allergy, so he just had to wait out the pain. He complained loudly whenever anyone came into view and looked like a kicked puppy when they didn't help him. It wasn't like they didn't want to, they just didn't know how. After about an hour he calmed down, sleeping restlessly on the couch until the afternoon, where Donna took him into her bedroom. He sat on his blow-up mattress and gazed at her with mild interest, half of his attention on her and the other half on his pillow, for which Donna had made a custom TARDIS cover. "You feeling better?" He nodded, and she smiled to herself. He was beginning to understand what they were saying almost all the time.

It was a big improvement, yet he didn't talk very much himself. Harry always said to just 'give him time' but it seemed he was running out of it. Neila had been working for someone, if only she'd said who they were, or given her some clue as to where they were hiding. "Doctor," he blinked and then tilted his head. "Doctor,"
"Good!" She felt like she was talking to a small child, not an alien. "Donna,"
"Yes?"
"Donna and Doctor," she smiled and he grinned. "Yes, Donna and the Doctor," he fell silent for a few seconds. "Donna?" She turned to him again. "Hm?"
"TARDIS," she tried to hide her surprise. "What about it?"
"See TARDIS,"
"Not right now," he frowned, but didn't press further.

Harry and Grace left not long after her Sylvia and Wilf returned and they spent the rest of the evening watching TV. The Doctor gazed around him anxiously and kept poking Donna's arm until it went numb and she swatted his hand away. She vaguely remembered that he had been feeling this anxiousness before entering the restaurant. After her mother and Wilf went to bed, she remained on the couch with the Doctor leaning into her side, half watching television and half daydreaming. "What are you thinking about?" Donna asked as some cop show came on. He shrugged and started staring at the lamp beside him as it flickered. "You don't know?" He shrugged again, a jerky, nervous movement.

She glanced at him as the lamp made a loud bang and they were plunged into darkness. The Doctor yelped and leapt to his feet, spinning around and gazing accusingly at the lamp. Wilf – clad in a nightgown and slippers – appeared in the doorway holding a torch. "What in the world was that?"
"The light bulb blew,"
"Oh, you should probably go to bed, it's almost midnight," he motioned with the torch at the clock on the wall before shuffling off. "Come on mate," Donna took the Doctor's hand and towed him to her bedroom, dropping him onto his bed and changing into pyjamas. The Doctor sat atop the blankets and watched her as she got into bed. "Night martian boy," he didn't respond, so she sat up. "Are you going to go to sleep or what?" He made a face and lay back, but still didn't close his eyes. Perhaps he just didn't feel like sleeping...

Donna awoke three times throughout the night, only to find the Doctor still awake each time. At half-past six she found she couldn't go back to sleep, so she got dressed nicely and put up her hair – she was going out for lunch with Vicki to make up for declining last time – and headed into the kitchen, the Doctor following her every step. She found a bunch of letters on the table, and discovered one addressed to her. It was a deep blue that reminded her greatly of the TARDIS, and written in silver ink was her name. "Hmm," the Doctor gazed over her shoulder impatiently as she slowly picked it up and turned it over, opening it and taking out the rich, thick parchment within. She opened the folded paper and, written in intricate handwriting was a set of seemingly random numbers and 'good luck'. She turned it over multiple times, but that was all that was written. "Well, that's informative," she stated sarcastically as she put it back on the table and prepared her breakfast.

The Doctor picked up the paper as soon as she was busy and tipped it sideways, then upside-down before making a triumphant yell and showing it to her eagerly. She sighed and took it from him, putting it back on the table and starting to eat. He pushed it towards her determinedly and she gazed at the numbers – ..14.20 .. She couldn't find a pattern, even though the Doctor seemed to be able to. She kept imagining that he had written it, although in his current state that was highly unlikely. "I'll figure it out later, right now I just want to eat breakfast," as she was talking, Sylvia trudged in and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Hello!" The Doctor exclaimed giddily, and she stared at him as if he'd just personally threatened her. "I thought you said he couldn't talk,"
"He couldn't," she frowned, and then noticed the message.

She picked it up and examined it much the way the Doctor had. "What's this?"
"I don't know, I just found it on the table. I've got no idea what it means,"
"It's a code,"
"I can see that," she put it back down and sat beside the Doctor, angling the chair away from him. Nevertheless he flung his arms around her and she made a disgusted noise, pushing him away. He started laughing hysterically, but once he calmed down every time he looked at her he started laughing all over again. "Do you know how to decode it? I've tried all sorts of things but it just ends up as gibberish," Donna asked after he finally managed to get himself under control, clutching his ribs and leaning on the table, taking deep breaths. "What about every number represents a letter?"
"I know-"
"No, I mean one is a, two is b and so on,"
"Oh, I haven't tried that," she took out a pen and started translating.

..14.20 ..
Wait for UNIT.
Donna tilted her head, gazing at the letter with a mix of curiousity and suspicion. "Wait for UNIT?" She read aloud, turning the Doctor. He shrugged and Sylvia did the same. "They must mean..." She quickly stopped herself before giving Sylvia too much information. "Mean what?" She asked after Donna mysteriously silenced. "Err, nothing. You know what, I need to make a phone call," she quickly dashed into the living room and dialled Grace. "What's up Donna?"
"I got this weird coded letter this morning, it translates to wait for UNIT,"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Maybe it's a message meaning UNIT's gonna get involved?"
"I should probably tell Harry,"
"Yeah, good idea," she hung up and returned to the kitchen to see the Doctor washing the dishes.

He turned and grinned when she entered. "He does know we have a dishwasher right?" Sylvia shrugged, hiding the smug smile. Obviously she'd told him to do so. "Doctor, you can stop now," he smiled and then simply dropped the plates into the sink, sloshing soapy water all over his suit. She sighed and was leading him away to get changed when everything went black. "Wha...?" She opened her eyes, feeling the cold damp concrete on her bare arms, and sat up to see she was in what appeared to be a cell; a large cube, six-by-six feet, with a high ceiling. It was grey and drab, except for a large wooden door opposite her and a light bulb dangling from the ceiling, barely illuminating the cell.

Her wrist was shackled to the wall by a heavy metal chain that clinked loudly when she moved. A headache and various other limb pains were starting to make themselves known, but she couldn't figure out what had happened, no matter how hard she thought. If she tried to think, her memories just went fuzzy and the headache got worse. She sat back against the cool concrete wall, trying to clear her mind and wake herself up further. After a few minutes of silence the realisation that she was alone dawned on her. Where was the Doctor? Was he alright? She yanked on the chain, but it was sturdy and held strong. It was when she was really about to panic when voices approached the door.

She decided her best chance was to pretend to be still unconscious, so she lay back down and closed her eyes as the door opened. "So, this is the human?" Asked a woman's voice with a heavy Irish accent. "Yes ma'am, this is Miss Noble, the human he takes with him in his Time Lord machine," deep breaths, she told herself, trying to remain calm. She decided to pretend her life wasn't in danger, so she thought about how she vaguely recognised the second voice. "She will do nicely," replied the first voice. Do nicely? Do nicely for what? She tried not the shudder at the images her mind showed her. "She will surely make him speak," continued the second voice. Make him speak? Who, the Doctor?

There was some more shuffling of feet and one of them mumbled something before they both left, closing the heavy wooden door behind them. Once she deemed it safe, she sat up and rubbed her cold arms, trying to come to terms with her current situation. The Doctor had always told her travelling with him was dangerous. She just didn't think she was in danger while at her own home. Well, she wasn't going to just sit around, so she took a hairpin from her hair and started to pick the lock of her shackle. She'd never done so before, and it took what felt like a long time, but eventually it popped open and fell to the ground, making a loud noise as it did so. She froze, expecting guards or something to burst in and blow her brains out, but nothing happened.

She headed over to the door and jiggled the handle. Also locked, so she took out the pin again and picked that lock too. Once she heard the click, she turned the handle and swung the door open to see a very familiar face. The man from the hospital – James Gorrd – the murderer. "Going somewhere?" He asked, as she realised it was his voice she recognised while pretending to be knocked out. "No?" He gave a harsh bark of a laugh and took her arm, dragging her down the corridor beyond, which was also cold grey concrete. He was gripping her arm hard enough to cause pain to shoot up all the way to her shoulder, but she dared not complain as she was lead to another large wooden door.

She tried not to concentrate on the fact that the doorknob had red stains on it. The door opened to reveal a very large room, but she couldn't see anything until she was dragged inside. It was at least forty feet wide, with a balcony stretching its length high up. There were a lot of strange pillars scattered around and in the centre was one with chains. The Doctor had similar shackles to the one she had on his wrists, nailed high up on the slab so he dangled, his feet barely touching the floor. He was no longer wearing a shirt and was slumped over, chest heaving, eyes trained on the grate beneath his feet.

Donna tried not to gasp in horror as she saw the ugly red gashes marring his chest and stomach, and the blood dripping down onto the grate. He had his eyes squeezed shut and was gritting his teeth as two men approached in all-black clothes. She made a hopeless attempt to struggle free, yanking her arm, but James only tightened his grip until her fingers started going numb. "She was trying to get away," James said as he pushed her to the ground at their feet. The two men scrutinized her as she lay on the damp, dirty ground. They looked almost identical – both in their late twenties – except one had short blonde hair and the other had long black hair. Their eyes were empty and emotionless, but they were both grinning wickedly at her. "This is Miss Noble?" The blonde asked, crouching in front of her and tilting his head.

He reached towards her, but pulled his hand back before touching her. "Yes," James replied, taking a few steps back. She glanced at the Doctor to see him watching her with sorrowful eyes, tear marks running down his dirty face. She was about to yell at him when she hauled to her feet by the black-haired man. "I am Kared," he said, motioning to himself as she gained her footing. He then pointed to the white-haired man. "And he is Lité. We were named after our great purpose; to bring light and dark to this world," she decided not to voice her thoughts aloud, but, personally, she thought they were both nut jobs.

She was lead to another of the pillars, opposite the Doctors, but the gap spanned almost the length of the room. She was also chained to a slab, but her arms hung at her sides as the chains were connected to the floor. "Why are the chains on the floor?" She asked as Kared and Lité put more shackles on her upper arms. "Because we do not need information from you," Kared said. "You are just here for motivational purposes," Lité finished. They stood back and examined their handiwork before turning as a woman approached. She, too, wore all black clothes, but she was carrying a thick rope whip.

She smiled sadistically at Donna as she approached, swinging the whip back and forth menacingly. "Hello again Miss Noble," she said, her Irish accent more prominent than before. "Hi," she replied, watching as she approached the Doctor. "Is does not matter if the Doctor holds his silence, Donna wasn't it? Will surely speak," Kared stated, leaning against the slab, arms crossed, a picture of calm. "Speak, speak about what?" No one answered, but James nodded at the Irish woman raised the whip and cracked it forward. The Doctor cried out and recoiled as a new gash opened on his stomach, trickling fresh blood. He had closed his eyes again and was still gritting his teeth. Donna was doing the same; she didn't know or want to know the information they wanted, but she couldn't stand there and watch them torture the Doctor.

Once the blood stopped flowing, the woman didn't whip him again, much to Donna's surprise. Instead, she curled it up and leaned closer to him. He tried to lean away, but hissed and quickly righted himself. The woman kissed him, running her hands down his chest, her sharp nails reopening healed wounds. "Can't I keep him, I promise to treat him nicely," she asked in a mocking tone, cracking the whip close enough to make him yelp again. "Now now, Delilah, you know that's not why you were employed," Lité scolded, examining his white-painted nails as if torture was a normal part of his routine. Perhaps it was. Kared pushed off the wall and walked over to Delilah, leaning close to her ear. "Sure you don't want to share him?" He whispered, running a hand trough the Doctor's hair. "Maybe I do," she replied, opening ever more gashes with her nails. "Bullshit, you just want him to yourself," she laughed, a high-pitched, shrill noise. The Doctor tried to shrink away from them, but failed. Hands going places Donna really thought they shouldn't.

Echoing footsteps started approaching from the door Donna had been taken in from, but it was behind the slab and she couldn't see the person. Delilah stepped away from the Doctor again and rolled up the whip, watching him bleed slowly as Kared returned to Donna's left and leaned back against the slab as he done earlier. The gunshot wound was visible near his the Doctor's shoulder, and Delilah started gazing at it with her head tilted. "How did he obtain this gunshot wound?" She asked, gently poking it. The Doctor tried to lean away again, but gave up halfway through. "Someone shot him," Donna replied harshly. She turned to her, nothing but curiousity on her face. "Who?"
"I don't know, someone told to by your boss," the curiousity turned to a sneer. "Whoever did so will be killed,"
"Why?"
"Because he was not meant to be harmed, he was meant to be taken in without injury. I will personally kill this traitor," she hissed, snapping the whip in her frustration.

Donna couldn't watch the Doctor in pain anymore, so she looked away, only to see Neila. She was the person who had been approaching. She stopped when she saw Donna and gazed back and forth between the Doctor and Donna for a few seconds "Hello Donna," she said almost cheerily. "Hey Neila, how's your day been?" Donna replied with the same tone. She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes as she approached further. "I am truly sorry you had to get involved Donna, I would have liked you not have to see this," she motioned for Delilah to continue, and she did so with relish, brining the whip back and then cracking it forward.

The Doctor screamed now, clearly giving up on hiding his pain. Delilah brought the whip back again. "Wait!" Donna yelled, struggling against her restraints. Everyone turned to her with expectant expressions. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, just please stop hurting him!" There were grins all around, except for Neila, who kept a straight face. Kared looked to Delilah, who nodded minutely. "Donna, would you care to tell us what his Time Lord machine is called?" They didn't know? "I'll only answer your questions if you answer mine," Delilah shrugged, nonchalant. "Sure, we only want to get answers from you, it is only fair if you get answers in return," Donna looked at the Doctor, but he only gazed back at her wordlessly, blinking rapidly to try and hide the tears. How long had he withstood this pain in silence? "It's called a TARDIS; it stands Time and Relative Dimensions in Space,"
"And your first question?" Kared replied. "Are you all aliens?"
"No," he replied. "Delilah and James are human, we are not," she nodded to herself.

"Where might we find this TARDIS?" He continued. Would they know if she lied to them? "Down the street from-"
"Please don't lie to us Donna," Lité interrupted, motioning for Delilah to whip the Doctor again. Donna tried to block out his anguish as she rearranged her thoughts. Well, at least now she knew she couldn't lie. "In my backyard," some nods here and there and more mumbling. "Who are you working for?" Delilah laughed. "I am sorry Donna, but that is the one question we cannot answer," she frowned. Of course, why would they answer that? Delilah gazed at the Doctor for what felt like a long while. "Is he the only one who can operate it?" She asked, picking bits of something off her whip. "I don't know, but he's the only one I've seen be able to work it properly... Why are you doing this?" She vaguely realised Lité was releasing her from the shackles.

The chains tumbled to the floor and she rubbed her numb wrists. "Because we wish to stop the Doctor from ever existing," he replied, twirling the key around his finger. "Or, well, the boss does anyway. So, how do we get into this TARDIS?"
"You just open the doors and walk in," Kared suddenly looked vicious. "We said not to lie," and then Delilah and her whip were suddenly in front of her and she braced for the pain as she prepared to whip her. She closed her eyes as the whip approached. "Stop!" She opened her eyes and stared at the Doctor, just as incredulous as everyone else.

The Doctor was still breathing deeply, but it was clearly him who had called out. "Leave her... Alone," he continued through gritted teeth. "Oh, so you're going to speak now?" Lité asked eagerly, although he got no response. "Fine then," and then there was white-hot pain running up her arm and she gasped with the force of it. "No, Donna!" She couldn't concentrate, his voice barely penetrating the sudden silence. No. He had gone through possibly hours of this. She was going to stay strong for him. She sucked in a deep breath and held it until her vision cleared of the unexpected tears. The Doctor was struggling weakly, only hurting himself further in his sudden attempt to escape.

Once he saw her watching him, he calmed down considerably and they gazed at each for a long time before someone broke the silence. "The boss wanted her unharmed," it was Neila. "I thought he wanted me dead," Donna replied. "He changed his mind," Kared huffed. "It's just a scratch, I'm sure the boss won't care," Neila frowned. "He specifically said unharmed," so it was a he? "Yeah, well she'll be fine by the time he sees her, if he sees her at all," she could feel the blood trickling down her arm and dripping from the tips of her fingers. The searing pain had become a dull throbbing as she listened to Kared and Neila bicker, and she wiped her arm on her shirt to get rid of the blood. All that did was make it worse again, so she gave up and just let her arm drip all over the floor. "I think I'm going to leave a stain," she stated as she noticed there was no grate by her feet, the blood was just pooling on the floor. Lité and James – who she'd completely forgotten about – laughed and Delilah smiled to herself. "See, Neila, Donna knows what we are trying to achieve, she is helping us, she does not care about the mark, Delilah was simply teaching her not to lie, it's incredibly rude," Kared said, taking a handkerchief from a pocket and wrapping around the gash on her arm. "There we go darlin', now you won't bleed everywhere," she didn't reply, she was no longer listening.

She had put her other hand in her jacket pocket, only to feel a piece of metal. She had definitely not put anything there earlier, so someone else had put it there. Perhaps she could take it out and examine it discreetly, so she drew her hand from her pocket slowly. It was a small metal disc that reminded her greatly of a cliché UFO, with a small, blinking red dot in the centre. Some kind of tracking device? Wait for UNIT... UNIT was tracking her! That meant they could walk in at any moment, guns-a-blazing. Or were they waiting for some kind of signal? Was she meant to do something? Was the Doctor meant to do something?

She blinked rapidly when she realised Lité was waving his hand in front of her face. "You alright?" He asked, no concern in his voice whatsoever. "Oh, yeah, sorry, zoned out for a minute,"
"Oi, what's that?" He asked, taking the tracker from her fingers. She decided to play dumb. "I don't know, I just found it in my pocket, I don't even know how it got there," he inspected it, then handed it to Kared, who also gazed at it. Why had he not known she was lying? Perhaps it was because she was still unsure of its purpose herself. "It's some kind of tracker!" He exclaimed, suddenly looking like it was a hot poker in his fingers. "Well why's someone tracking me?" She asked as he threw it down the drain underneath the Doctor, who had gone unnaturally, eerilystill and silent.

She was surprised none of them believed she brought it herself as they turned to her. "Could be someone else wanting the Time Lord's machine," Delilah suggested, waving the whip around in a very bored fashion. "Well they can't have it!" Lité shouted in a sudden rage. "We got him first!" He continued, waving at Donna for some reason. As if that was a cue, there was a loud bang and smoke began to rapidly fill the room. Donna dared not run, afraid to leave the Doctor alone and equally as afraid of being caught by her captives. "Shit, someone's found us!" One of them yelled, and then they disappeared into the smoke, only Kared and Lité's eyes remaining visible, four blank, emotionless orbs floating in the gas. She could hear them talking, and then their eyes too disappeared and she was alone.

What was she meant to do? Help the Doctor. Free the Doctor. That was what she was meant to do. She ran forward blindly through the smoke and found ugly shapes looming all around her out of the gloom. Keep running, she told herself, forcing her legs to keep moving even thought they wanted to just collapse. After what felt like an eternity she found the Doctor and fought back the urge to hug him, what with the gashes and all the blood. He was still bleeding, his eyes were closed and he wasn't moving, hanging limp in the shackles. "Doctor," no response. "Doctor!" Nothing. She yanked uselessly on the restraints holding him up, but they were solid iron and didn't budge.

People were all around her, shouting and shooting. She could see them morphing in and out of view all around her, just dark shapes approaching menacingly only to dart off in the opposite direction. It was getting harder to breathe. She started coughing. Was this place on fire or something?

She tried pulling on the restraints again, only to find the Doctor watching her with half-lidded eyes. "... Run," he whispered as he started coughing harshly. "I'm not leaving you," he either didn't hear or ignored the determination in her voice. "Run Donna!"
"No," he stared at her with a strange expression before ducking his head and gazing at the floor solemnly. "I don't... Want you to... Die here... Because... Of me," he got out through coughs. "I won't,"
"You will," she decided to just ignore anything he said from then on. Her vision was fading. She couldn't leave him. His eyes were closed again. Was he conscious? People were all around her now; she could hear them yelling back and forth. Something about backup. She saw someone, just a hazy blob now, approach her and they said something but she didn't hear them. She'd failed the Doctor. She'd done everything she could...

There was an annoying beeping close by. It was loud and repetitive and obnoxious, but she couldn't shut it out now that she was awake. Wait. She was awake! She quickly opened her eyes and sat up to see she was in a familiar hospital bed; the bed she'd chosen while the Doctor was in hospital. Her arm itched, and she glanced at it to see it wrapped in thick bandages and there was a gas mask on her face. She tried to reach for it, only to have her arms gently lowered again, and she turned to see Wilf beside her. "I don't think that's a good idea, Dr. Sullivan said to keep it on until he said so," she let her arms drop to her sides and he smiled. The beeping turned out to be a heart monitor. Now she understood why the Doctor disliked it so much.

Where was he? She glanced around frantically, only to find the room empty of anyone besides her and Wilf. Was he alright? She could hear the monitor speeding up, but she couldn't calm herself. Had those people been UNIT? They wouldn't hurt him would they? "Donna, Donna calm down!" She concentrated on Wilf's voice and slowly got herself under control. He gently lowered the mask. "I know he said to keep it on, but what's wrong?"
"Is he alright?" He swallowed and sat on a plastic chair he'd pulled up beside her bed. "He's..."
"Please tell me he's alright,"
"He's not dead, I know that'll be good news at least," she felt herself begin to panic. "What's wrong with him?"
"Well, he had a lot injuries Donna, some of them worse than others," she stared at the blanket.

Even though she was now the one in the hospital bed, she felt a strange sense of dè-ja-vu. This wasn't happening. "He's not in another...?" He'd know what she meant. "Err, no, he's not,"
"How long have I been out?"
"Almost a day, it's strong stuff whatever they used," she dreaded the next question, but felt it needed to be asked. "And the Doctor?"
"He hasn't woken up yet... They're keeping him heavily sedated until they can properly fix him up,"
"Properly?" Wilf sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. "I'm sorry Donna, I was told not to tell you,"
"Why not?"
"Because you'd panic," she didn't have a comeback for that.
She knew she would, even though she tried to deny it. "They said, they said you might have PTSD," she stared at him. "I might have what?"
"Um, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," her throat constricted and she started to feel numb. If she had that... What about the Doctor? He had to go through that for much longer than her. "Donna, you alright?"
"Yeah, sure. Where's mum?"
"Oh, she got booked for speeding,"
"She what?"
"She said she was seeing her daughter because she'd just discovered she was in hospital – doing 20 over mind you – but she still got taken in anyway," she almost laughed. That sounded like Sylvia.

She was about to keep talking when Harry walked in. "You're not meant to have that off yet," he scolded, motioning at the gas mask, which Donna quickly put back on. "You inhaled quite a lot of smoke," Wilf turned to watch Harry as he scribbled something on Donna's chart. "Has she got any bad injuries doc?"
"No, she had a minor laceration on her arm, caused by a whip of all things, but besides that and a minor concussion, she's fine," he nodded to himself. "Good, good," she couldn't take it any longer. She pulled the mask off, and Harry was about to rebuke her again but she interrupted. "When can I see him?" His face fell. "Donna-"
"Tell me," he glanced at Wilf. "Not for a while," she had to wait. How long did she have to wait before knowing if he was alright? If he was going to recover this time?

Umm, yeah. I hope you like it ^^;
Sorry about the length. I got carried away...