A/N So…you've been stuck with me for, what, twenty-one chapters now?…You aren't really expecting everything to be all happy and cheerful in this chapter, right? Come on, you should know me better than that by now ;)

Chapter 21:

"This is ridiculous, Bachir!"

The Doctor perked up as he heard the unfamiliar voice shouting at his keeper from the hallway. He was slouched against the wall of a new room they had dragged him to, resting his head on his knees and attempting to relax before the disturbance had interrupted him. He was still exhausted from all the running earlier that day, but they had fed him and given him water and he was already beginning to feel less fatigued. He longed to sleep again and restore his strength completely, but he was afraid of the consequences of falling asleep during training. He was sure they wouldn't be enjoyable. And no doubt he would never get this mysterious reward Bachir had mentioned…

The Doctor was, of course, nervous. Again he questioned why he would be receiving a reward at all. He was only doing the bare minimum to keep from being punished, and yet here he was, awaiting his prize. He shuddered slightly as he thought of the numerous different implications of the word 'reward'; it could be completely sincere or devastatingly sinister. He'd been too worn out after the treadmill incident to properly evaluate Bachir's mood and figure out what his own connotation was, but he didn't seem ominous about it. But the fact still remained that the Doctor knew he didn't deserve a proper reward.

He could hear footsteps coming down the hallway now, moving towards the room he was being kept in. The room was not unlike the 'training' room he had become accustom to during his first conscious week here, but there was a definite lack of red stains on the floor, which helped to settle the Doctor's initial anxiety. As the footsteps grew closer – he counted three pairs all together – he could hear the unfamiliar voice speak up again.

"I'm in the middle of a dosage trial with 258, you can't just interrupt this process because you're feeling sentimental."

Bachir's commanding voice answered back and the Doctor resisted the urge to curl up further against the wall. "Your little girl's training can wait ten minutes. 258 is no where near as valuable as this one could possibly be. I need it compliant."

"It's human!" The first voice shouted in frustration. "Do you know how rare it is to find a human of her appeal this far out? And you think it's not valuable?"

The Doctor used the wall behind him to help push himself up. His breath hitched, but not from the throbbing pain coming from his injured ankle as he set weight on it. The three pairs of footsteps stopped before his door, two heavy sets and one smaller, lighter, inconsistent one, as if the owner was stumbling. Even despite that, he knew he recognized those footsteps, like he'd heard them every day padding down the halls of the TARDIS or racing with him away from some sort of danger right at his heels. Did he really dare to believe what he was hearing?

The other man was speaking again, his annoyed voice sounding slightly muffled coming through the door. "I've already administered the injection, I have to observe its reaction."

"It takes ten minutes for the effects to completely develop, and unless you want me to inform Vadim that you're exceeding his dosage recommendation, I suggest you shut the hell up and stop complaining." Bachir snapped back as he suddenly threw the door open. The Doctor shifted slightly backwards in surprise, his back pressed up against and supported by the wall. He hardly even had time to register the aggravated scowl on the Drephesh standing behind his keeper when someone was shoved through the doorway, stumbling backwards as the door was slammed shut in her face, blonde hair splaying out behind her.

The universe froze. The air had been sucked completely from the room. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but for once no words came out. He was too stunned. His mind whirled as she stood there, still facing the door, her back to him, unmoving. The Doctor found he couldn't move either, for some reason, held stuck in place by the immensity of his 'reward'. Finally he managed to reach into the reserves of air trapped within his lungs and breathed out in one desperate gasp.

"Rose?"

Her head twitched to the side slightly, following the direction of his voice. She went to turn and the Doctor saw what was about to happen almost too late. Her movements were uncharacteristically choppy, disjointed, and when she went to turn her left leg moved but her right did not. Her toes caught on her other ankle and she couldn't balance it out. She staggered, trying to right herself, but that movement seemed to only throw her off more as she tripped, not even bothering to throw out her hands to break the fall.

The Doctor moved faster than he thought possible in his current condition. One moment his Rose was falling towards the ground on the other side of the room, and the next he was catching her under the arm, falling to his own knees in order to keep her from striking the ground. He held her against his chest as she began to struggle weakly, a faint whimper escaping her lips as she tried feebly to wiggle out of his grasp.

He just held her closer, not willing to let her go, not after all of this. "Shh…." He breathed comfortingly into her ear, "It's alright, Rose, It's me. I've got you. I've got you…"

She slowly stopped her weak attempts to get away and just fell limply in the Doctor's arms. He hugged her closer for a split second before helping her to sit up, running a hand alone her cheek and into her blonde hair as she sat there unresponsively. It was as if she hadn't entirely registered he was there.

Her eyes were closed lightly, like she wasn't bothered enough to open them, and the Doctor suddenly realized how desperate he was to see those kind brown orbs once more, to remind him that there is still good and kindness in the universe. "Rose, please, look at me."

After a moment she finally responded, blinking her eyes open slowly. She frowned, eyes zooming in and out of focus as they tried to zero-in on the Doctor's face. It felt like an eternity before she finally opened her mouth and whispered a soft and slurred, "Docta?"

The Doctor felt as though he could do twelve back flips in a row, resisting the urge to punch the air as Rose showed some king of awareness, some kind of recognition. He fought back the tears of joy threatening to blur the sight of his human companion as he pulled her into another embrace. This time she responded, clumsily wrapping her arms around his torso and leaning her head against his chest, breathing in deeply. The Doctor honestly didn't know if he'd be able to release her from their embrace ever again. Two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks he'd been worried sick about her, imagining the worst, fighting to find her, submitting to find her, and here she was, back in his arms.

He heard a sniff and a gasp and realized Rose was beginning to sob lightly into his shirt. "Hey, shh," He pushed her softly from his chest so they could see each other's faces again, and that was when he noticed it. Her eyes. Yes, they were still brown and kind and everything that was beautiful in the universe, but now they were dulled, a thin layer of mist hanging over them and they didn't seem capable of focusing on any one thing. They kept sliding in and out of clarity as if she were grasping for reality and slipping from its slick handlebars. He leaned in close to her neck and sniffed her skin, smelling for the blood running in the main arteries along her throat. He cringed as he smelt the foreign substance in her veins. She was drugged.

He pulled away sharply so he could look her over, search for any other signs of abuse, but she quickly grabbed his wrist, dragging him back to her. "P-please. Don't l-l-leave me." She begged in a broken whisper.

"Oh, Rose," He leaned his forehead against hers, his right hand wrapped around the back of her neck. "I'm never going to leave you. I never could."

She dragged in a sobbing breath. "Then w-where have you b-been? You l-l-left me here. You – al-lone – I…" Her words became disjointed as she hung her head. The Doctor couldn't breathe. His hearts were jammed up in his throat, cutting off all his air and words. He pulled Rose close, kissing her on the top of the head with more force then he intended, but he couldn't help it. He had to assert he was there. She was there. They were together again and – Rassilon, why did his hearts hurt so much?

"Listen to me," He demanded softly, speaking into her hair. "I wouldn't leave you, I could never leave you. I found you again, I'm right here, we're together, and I'm never going to let you go again."

She hiccupped adorably into his shoulder. "I t-th-thought you were…I s-saw you on the f-floor of the sh-ship… I thought….and th-then I didn't see you…and they w-wouldn't t-t-tell me anything…"

"Shhhhh, Rose, please. I'm fine. I'm right here." He kept repeating because he wasn't sure how much she was able to believe it. He could smell the drug on her but was unable to pinpoint exactly what the concoction was or what it was for. But he could feel her slipping away from him and he had to ground her back to reality. "I'm going to get us out of here. I don't know how yet, but I will. We've been in worse pickles, eh? You and me. We can do this, right Rose?"

"We can…we can use…" Her words were almost inaudible. And then suddenly she giggled, the corners of her lips pulling up into a distracted smile. "…h-horses…" She giggled again before her face instantly fell into a frown. Her eyes screwed shut once again as she muttered, "No…no, please. I don't want to…"

"Rose?"

She began struggling again, trying to wiggle her way out of the Doctor's arms, her face contorted in fear. "No. Please. Please."

"Rose, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to."

"I know, I know." The Doctor didn't know, but he was at a loss of whatever else he could do. Tears were stinging across Rose's cheeks as she shook her head. "Don't worry, you don't have to." Whatever it was. "You don't have to."

"Please…" He thought she whispered, but it sounded more like a gust of air falling from her lips. Her body felt like it was turning to dough in his arms, his embrace becoming the only thing holding her up anymore.

"Rose?" The Doctor begged, but she was drifting further away, slipping from him.

"Doc….tor? I –" She sighed sadly before her head lolled backwards on her neck, her whole body going completely limp.

The Doctor panicked, his hearts racing and threatening to choke him. "Rose!" He shouted as he senselessly shook her shoulders, desperate for her to come back to him. He had just found her, just got her back. She couldn't leave him so soon, not like this. He barely noticed the geyser of tears finally falling down his face as he pulled her unresponsive body closer to his, begging for her to come back to him. She didn't, but the Doctor stammered in relief as he felt her heart beating steadily within her chest. He pulled her mouth close to his ear and heard her weak, irregular breathing, but it was there, steady enough. He lowered her carefully back to the ground, laying her down on her back and tilting her head up to open her airways further.

He shuddered then as he saw for the first time the dark purple bruising around her throat, clearly finger-shaped bruises forming against her pale skin. He simmered with anger and disgust as he noticed similarly horrible bruises around her wrists and upper arms. He stood, no longer feeling the pain in his ankle, and ran a hand through his matted hair, ruffling it like a cat sticking up the fur on its back, turned, paced, paused, looked down at Rose's unconscious form, and then stormed towards the door.

He slammed his fist against it, hard, rattling the metal. He pounded against it repeatedly, the sound echoing through their small room. He snarled, feeling the storm building up inside him, unable and unwilling to be contained. "What did you do to her?!" He shouted through the door desperately.

Suddenly the door was thrown open and before the Doctor could adjust to the change a fist was slammed into his abdomen. He doubled over, winded and shocked, as a guard grabbed him by the shoulders and instantly threw him against a wall, pinning him to it with an arm to his throat. He froze as two more men swarmed through the door, one being his keeper and the other was a man he was unfamiliar with but who he instantly loathed upon sight. He began to struggle against the guard as the strange keeper went to Rose's side and pressed a finger to her throat, feeling for a pulse. Even unconscious Rose still flinched away from his touch.

"Get away from her!" The Doctor yelled, earning him another blow to his side. He staggered as his inured ribs screaming in discomfort but was held in place by the guard's unyielding hand.

The two keepers ignored him, kneeling beside the unconscious human. "This is exactly why I needed to keep an eye on it." The stranger snapped at Bachir. "Do you understand the damage your damn reunion may have caused to it?"

"Oh, calm yourself, Malex, it'll be fine. It hardly needs a mind to do what you're going to be selling it for, anyways."

Malex growled. "Even a sex-slave needs to be able to think, Bachir. Brain-dead, how will it be able to perform up to standard?"

The Doctor felt his blood run cold. He stood against the wall, anger and hatred at such a level he felt a bizarre serenity wash over him, like the calm before the storm. His chest rose and fell from the immense effort of holding it all in as he glared at the stranger. The room cackled with the electricity of his hatred, enough to finally draw the attention of the two keepers. "You touch her one more time," The Doctor growled threateningly, his voice low as it came through his clenched teeth. "I will rip your head off your shoulders and feed it to a Sarlacc."

Malex glanced up at him for a moment before laughing and turning back to Rose. "Perhaps you should try training your creature some manners." He suggested condescendingly to Bachir, who rolled his eyes and glared with his fiery orange eyes at his trainee.

"Oh, don't worry," He replied sinisterly. "It'll get its lesson."

The Doctor lifted his chin defiantly, meeting his keeper's eye. He knew he'd regret it later, but he couldn't help it. Something about Rose kindled the fire within him, and now it was roaring, raging, consuming his self-control and burning it to ashes. Instinct was all that survived the flames.

Malex seemed satisfied with the pulse he found and instead let his fingers drift over the skin on Rose's delicate neck, tracing down her collar bone and brushing across one of her breasts over the fabric of her shirt. "Yes…everything is still good." He moaned happily.

And that was it for the Doctor. The fire became lightning as he struck out at the guard, grabbing the arm pinning him to the wall and twisting it, hearing the satisfying snap of the bone rupturing. The guard howled in pain as he retracted his broken arm and the Doctor quickly brought his knee up into his stomach before taking hold of the guard's head and slamming it, hard, into the wall. The guard crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

It had all happened so fast the two keepers hadn't even had time to register what was happening before the Doctor launched himself at them. He ignored Bachir, just as the keeper had always ignored him as if he were nothing, and slammed into Malex. The force of it sent them flying into the opposite wall, the keeper gasping in surprise. That would be his last breath as the Doctor wound his fingers around the keeper's throat, tightening his hold until Malex gurgled desperately for air. "I told you not to touch her." The Doctor growled into the man's ear as his grip tightened even more. He was going to strangle the man, tear his head off like he had promised. He was a warrior, a soldier, a killer, a murderer…

No.

The Doctor stumbled backwards, releasing his hold on Malex's throat. The keeper slid to the ground, gasping and clutching at his bruise windpipe as the Doctor stared down at him, eyes wide with disbelief at what he had been about to do. He couldn't. He couldn't do it, not anymore. He was already guilty enough, the pressure of it threatening to implode his soul with every breath, he could not afford to add more blood to the mix.

He wasn't given a chance to consider it any longer as agonizing pain laced up and down his body. He crashed to his knees, then to his side, as the prod was held against his skin, sending wave after wave of misery through the Time Lord. He writhed on the floor, his already overly-abused body wanting to give up, as he shouted and screamed through the pain. How long were they going to hold it against him? It had already been a century, he was sure of it, but the pain kept coming, unrelenting. Darkness edged closer. The pain stopped but he was only minutely aware of it. More pain exploded for a mere second in his head as something – a boot? – collided with it, sending him down that final stretch into darkness.

Bachir scowled down at the pathetic form of the slave, curled up around itself as electricity continued to course through its body. He dropped the prod where it clattered against the tiled floor and turned back to Malex. The other keeper had managed to pull himself to his feet, still breathless with a hand still massaging the skin on his throat. "Are you okay?" Bachir asked.

Malex snarled savagely. "That thing nearly killed me! How dare it touch me like that."

"It's alright, I've handled it." Bachir tried to reassure him, but Malex just glowered at him before sending his boot flying into the side of the limp slave. It didn't even respond, but somehow it made the keeper feel better.

"Handle it!?" Malex nearly shouted. "I know how you can handle it! Put the damn thing down. It's dangerous, volatile, not worth your damn time to train and you know it. Just dispose of it, Bachir, or I will."

"Control yourself, Malex!" Bachir barked back, kneeling down to check his own ward's pulse. He frowned before remembering the thing had two hearts, and therefore the quickened, double-beating of its pulse was normal. What are you? He asked himself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He stood and faced the fuming keeper again. "Look passed your own training biases and think about what you just saw." Malex scoffed and so Bachir pushed on. "Those lightning quick reflexes, the way it made that guard look like a toddler going up against a bear, someone will pay good money for that. A war lord, a gambler in the fighting rings. I'm not going to eliminate that possibility by wasting this thing."

Malex laughed harshly. "And I'll be saying 'I told you so' to your grave when the thing finally turns on you. Until then, keep it away from my trainee. This one, at least, will pull in something more than a meat-packers wallet." He looked down one more time at the male's body with disgust and sneered. "Or maybe it needs a trainer who is actually able to break it, run it into the ground. You're losing your touch, Bachir."

Bachir turned away, eyeing his ward with a similar look of antipathy as the other keeper had, considering his words and accepting it as a challenge. "Don't worry, Malex. I'll make sure the thing regrets it even looked at your shoes today."

TBC

A/N By the way, you guys are truly amazing! Thank you so much to all the reviews and PMs showing me some support, and to all you readers still sticking with me. It really, really means a lot to me. Keep it up!