A/N Okay, working 65 hours a week is officially the worst thing ever. Creativity has been replaced with exhaustion and writing time has been replaced with very rare and revered sleeping time. Today was my first day off since June 20-something, so I made sure I spent it the best way possible…writing about the Doctor's pain and suffering!

Do I have issues? Do we have issues? Will I be seeing you all in therapy? It's probably a resounding 'yes' to all the above!

Chapter 37:

By some small mercy, the Doctor managed to not make a single sound to give away how much pain he was really in. True, he had been through worse just in the last seven days – no, wait, make that five days, he forgot about that one incident when he accidentally said Jancon instead of Master – but there really was no feeling that could compare to a shining, sharp blade slicing through your own sensitive skin and muscle tissue.

The incision was only about two inches square, set into the delicate skin on the inside of his left arm. He had tried to make it himself, but with no anesthesia or drugs to help numb the pain, his fingers began to shake no long after the first slit, making it increasingly difficult to make the precise cuts he needed. Too shallow and the trigger would cause the skin to bulge, making it too obvious. Too deep and the Doctor wouldn't be able to even reach the trigger, not to mention the metal plating on the chip could get too close to the more important veins and nerves set deep in the arm and cause unknowable damage. If the cuts were too jagged he could accidentally nick an artery or vein, causing internal bleeding, or the chip might not be able to fit if the lines cut in too close.

It was a far finer art then Rose had expected, still thinking the Doctor was insane as he turned to her, holding the bleeding scalpel in the palm of his hand, and asked her to finish it for him. She could see his pain in the way his fingers shook, but he didn't tell her that was the reason he needed her help, only announcing he that couldn't reach his own arm from that angle.

She let him have that one. They weren't allowing him to keep much dignity here, so even though she had only just been scolding him for lying, she let this one slide. Besides, deep down Rose always knew the Doctor lies. It's in his natural. She had just hoped he wouldn't still be lying to her. After all they'd been through.

The chip was planted and the final stitch was being done. The Doctor made a face as the thread pulled annoyingly on his skin as Rose tightened the stitch, tying it off with shaking fingers. "Sorry…" She muttered as she caught sight of his locked jaw and squinted eyes.

"S'okay. Just – be gentle."

"I thought I was being gentle."

"Well, then, be gentler." The Doctor hissed slightly as Rose twisted the thread around to finish off the last knot.

Using a pair of scissors, Rose cut the final thread and put the tools back on the counter. "There you go, you big baby." Her playful tone earned her a small laugh from the Time Lord, who twisted his arm around to see the results of their disobedience. Eight stitches now crisscrossed over the white skin of his lower arm in a neat square, framing the chip. There was a little raise where the trigger pressed against his skin, sticking out like a spider bite might. There, but not too noticeable.

The stitches, on the other hand, were very noticeable, and the square they were in far too exact to be written off as an accidental cut. Orange blood still trickled idly from between the stitches.

"Beautiful." The Doctor murmured in a voice that said the exact opposite. He flexed his arm up and down and made a grabbing motion with his hand. The Doctor gave a nod of approval. Everything seemed to still be working fine – a bit tender and painful, but working.

"How is it?" Rose asked.

"I'll definitely survive." He replied distantly. "The question is…will anyone else?"

With only a little hobble, the Doctor was able to make it over to the counter with the microscope again. As predicted, the swelling in his knee was already going down and the main in his leg was negligible compared to that in his arm. Another good night's sleep and he would be as good as new. Or…at least mobile again.

The slide holding the raw virus/anti-virus mix had been removed from under the microscope and was replaced with one of the sample chips the Doctor had been given to work with. It sat inside a Petri dish beneath a layer of orange substance. The Doctor's on blood he'd taken to act as a test environment. Beside it was a capsule shell holding the mix together. It was still eerily green and bubbling slightly like a carbonated drink, even inside the tiny container. The Doctor explained to Rose that the bubbling was actually the anti-virus rebelling against the chemical separating it from the virus, but it still looked freaky and weird.

"Shell's solidified." The Doctor accounted as he poked the capsule with his finger childishly. "Let's test this bad boy out."

The Doctor raised his left arm, subconsciously tracing the square of stitches before hovering his finger over the raised center. Rose winced as she saw the blood still oozing from between the thread and torn skin. "Isn't that going to hurt? Why didn't you test it out before putting it in your arm?" She questioned.

The Doctor looked up at her through his heavy eyelids. He was thoroughly exhausted. "Naw, I would've had to test it subdurmally anyway, and I can only make so many shells with what I've got right now. Besides, what's a little more pain?"

Rose made a strange sort of huffing noise that the Doctor chose to ignore. With surprisingly steady fingers, the Time Lord picked up the tiny, delicate capsule and placed it carefully on the tag, securing it down with minuscule metal arms Rose hadn't even been able to see before. Now in place, the Doctor activated the tag using the silver remote designed for Jancon to use. A little light turned on in the top right hand corner or the remote. It had found the chip and recognized its signature, ready to give the command.

The Doctor pressed a button on the side and a new panel slid down. Rose raised her eyebrows, impressed. The remote appeared too small and slim at first to hold the hidden screen it now sported. The symbols ST001 A N110 W407 were lit up on the screen. Using the main button, the Doctor scrolled much like Rose used to on her old iPod until the numbers were highlighted. A basic ? appeared beside the numbers and letters. The Doctor hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

Rose answered back "Are you?"

The Doctor shook his head minutely. "Here goes."

One eye on the screen, one eye on the tag, The Doctor carefully moved his finger back to the center of the stitches and, biting his lower lip, pressed down.

"Arg!" The Doctor groaned, clutching at his left arm as the word ACTIVATED flashed over the numbers on the screen.

"What is it?" Rose asked frantically, leaping forward in a desperate need to help him. The Doctor just shook his head again, wincing as he swung his arm around experimentally. The pain seemed to have left his eyes, but he was still a bit in shock.

"It's okay." He assured his companion. "I designed the tag in my arm to give off a small vibration whenever a virus is activated so I'll know when to send an anti-virus. But I guess the vibration wasn't as small as I was expecting."

"Yeah, and it being inside your arm couldn't have helped much either."

The Doctor gave a small chuckle. "No, it didn't help at all. Too late to change now. What was it I was saying earlier about more pain?"

"That you don't deserve it." Rose supplied with a meaningful glare.

"That, too. But what's more important is…this." The Doctor swooped down on the microscope, ending the conversation before Rose could get angry and protective again, and peered through at the tracker tag. A moment passed before a tiny grin swept across his face. "Well, that's the virus working." He stepped aside and motioned for Rose to take a look. Leaning down over the lens, Rose could see fumes hanging over the dish, fogging up the plastic container a bit, as small black specks formed and attached to the small red blood cells. The virus was taking over the blood supply. It looked…incredible, she had to admit. As horrible as it was and as horrible as it was going to be, it was still remarkable that all this was actually happening right before her eyes.

"The fumes settle and form the virus strains, which affect the blood cells when they come in contact." The Doctor explained behind her. "In a few minutes the blood will be completely infected, and the heart will be spreading it throughout the entire blood supply. Once it reaches the brain, the victim won't even be aware of what they're doing anymore. Animalistic anger and instinct will take over. Until this happens."

As the Doctor spoke, the fumes of the virus had settled into the blood, leaving it now a morbid maroon color the Time Lord's blood should never be. But then a new smoke appeared, lighter this time, and Rose watched as the fumes fused together into white particles and attacked the blackness taking over the blood. After a minute the blood was already returning back to normal. Rose gave a small gasp of amazement and before she could stop herself she breathed out, "You. Are. Incredible."

She straighten up in time to see the Doctor looking rather pleased with himself before schooling his expression into one of humble acceptance. "Please, it was nothing." He replied with fake modesty.

"No, seriously." Rose emphasized. "You never stop amazing me."

The Doctor just smiled at her with his 1000 watt grin before pushing her aside playfully so he could reach the microscope. He peered in for a few seconds before leaning back up, smile still in place. "I think," He said carefully in a quiet voice. "We might actually get away with this one…"

Rose couldn't help the excited giggle that escaped her as she clung to his uninjured are, wrapping her arms around it in a kind of energized hug. But then she stopped, a thought crossing her mind. "Alright, so we have the tag and virus situation taken care of. But what about the Trial itself?"

The Doctor glanced down at her with a questioning look. "I mean," Rose continued. "How are you going to get out of the Trial? Have you thought about that yet?"

The Doctor just frowned. "Rose, I'm not getting out of the Trial."

"What do you mean? Of course you are. You said it's like Hunger Games meets Fugitive, you're not actually going in there."

Yes, I am." The Doctor replied sorrowfully. "I have to."

Rose just stared at him for a moment before squinting at him. "Do you need another slap in the face? Because you actually sound serious."

"I am serious. Rose, I can't get out of the Trial. I'm under nearly constant supervision, and if you haven't noticed, you are, too. Not to mention this thing," The Doctor shook his right leg with the silver shock anklet. "Will go off if I cross outside it's range."

"Then find a way to deactivate it." Rose quickly countered. "Come on, if you can make a virus coexist with its own anti-virus the surely you can figure out a way to get that thing off."

The Doctor just shook his head sadly. "Rose, I can't. I have to compete. If I make it out, Jancon promised he'd set us free and take us back to the TARDIS immediately."

Rose felt her heart beat slow and then quicken, making her feel slightly nauseas as she asked, "And if you don't make it out…?"

The Doctor looked away before answering. "Then Jancon's word will still honored. He'll set you free and find you the first ship back to Earth. Or wherever you wish to go."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. So I'm just expected to accept that as a reasonable answer? Rose thought with a sneer of disbelief. "No." She found herself saying. The Doctor peered over at her questioningly. "No, that's not going to happen. I'm not just leaving you so I can go settle on Earth. What do I even have there, anyway?"

The Doctor looked at her worriedly. "What do you even have there? Your home? Your mother? Your friends?"

"I don't have any of that." She stated as simply as any other fact in the universe as she practically flew across the lab to where she'd dropped the pieces of paper she'd originally come in here to talk to him about. "We're getting out of here. Tonight, if we have to, tomorrow at the latest. I don't want to stick around any longer than necessary, it's doing things to your head, I can tell. Drugs or no drugs."

She slammed the papers down on the table next to the microscope and jabbed a finger at them. "This is our way out and were taking it. End of discussion."

The Doctor gave an exasperated sigh. "Rose, I already told you, we can't. It won't work, we're – "

"'Just slaves', yeah, I heard that part already. Did you hear the part where I'm going to slap you again if I have to?"

"Loud and clear, but you misunderstood what I meant. I wasn't saying we can't go because our 'Master' hasn't given us permission, I was saying we'll never make it off planet. It's illegal to offer passage to slaves without their master accompanying them, not to mention it's illegal for slaves to hold and exchange money or even enter a port without their master's presence and permission. And let's say by some miracle we do make it into a town with a ship port and into the building, they use DNA samples to access bank accounts and pull up ID and records, and when we were brought on planet our blood would have been taken and categorized as property of Prebassador Jancon Ligtech. Once they scanned us we would immediately be detained and sent back to him.

"I love how much work you've put into finding an escape route." The Doctor continued as he fingered the papers on the table, eyes staring longingly at the information they possessed. "But we can't risk attempting an escape that is destined to fail, especially when I already have your freedom guaranteed."

"But not your own." Rose concluded shortly. She was angry again. How had the Doctor solved this last time? Even though her arms were now crossed, the Doctor pulled her into another embrace, ignoring the pain in his arm as he held her close. It seemed to work again as she relaxed almost subconsciously, just like last time, resting her forehead against his collarbone.

"You forget, Rose Tyler, I'm not as easy to kill as most people think. And I've still got my regenerations, which they won't know about. I'm not going to leave you, not if I can help it."

Rose took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. Then suddenly she asked, "What time is it?"

The Doctor was startled by her sudden change of tone, but quickly replied. "About 6:08. Half an hour into the moon cycle." He added using the planet's own jargon.

Rose cursed with her own and pushed away. "Ilaria's taken to asking me to eat dinner with her and Jancon. It's really awkward, they're always asking me about Earth and having all these really intricate questions I have no idea how to answer." Rose grabbed the papers and shoved them into her pockets. "Like last night Jancon asked me about the status of our solar system's galactic law and I didn't know how to respond so I just told them the plot of Star Wars."

The Doctor chuckled at the idea of Rose trying to pawn off The Empire Strikes Back as a story about Neptune versus Mars. But he quickly stopped as she suddenly pointed harshly at him from the doorway. "This conversation isn't over, mister. We're getting out of here whether you like it or not. I'm just really, really late!"

With that she spun out the door and sprinted down the hallway. The Doctor waited until her footsteps were silenced by distance before crumbling to the floor with an anguished sigh. His entire left side hated him right then: His left knee still throbbed painfully, his ribs were bruised from training earlier, and his stitches were still pulling uncomfortable with each movement of his arm. Not to mention the pounding in his head and the aching in his hearts. This was all getting to be too much, and now Rose was angry with him, too.

But not only that. That he could handle. An angry Rose could be soothed with a hug, a cup of tea, and some greasy chips. But a forgetting Rose? He felt it both times he swallowed her in an embrace that night, resting his cheek against the top of her head. For the briefest of moments both times he allowed himself to slip into her mind, so shallowly and so carefully she didn't even notice, but enough to see the chaos and destruction within her.

He had fucked up. The Doctor never liked to use that bit of Earth slang, but there was really no other word strong enough to explain just how badly he'd messed with her mind. And the drugs Rose had been given in Eyal had only made it so much, much worse.

Rose was losing her mind. One memory, one thought at a time. She wouldn't be able to tell, she wouldn't even be able notice it was happening at all. But it was, right in front of their eyes. In the way her emotions jumped around, how she could go from angry and sad to energetic and smiling again in the blink of an eye with no real incentive, how she couldn't even think of a single reason to return to Earth. "I don't have any of that." She had responded when he mentioned her home, her friends, her mum. Was she forgetting about her own mother?

She may have just been caught in the moment, the Doctor tried to convince himself. After all, this wouldn't be the first time she'd said nothing else mattered to her except for him, but each time it had been more of a 'they take the back seat to you' rather than a 'they don't exist at all' kind of thing.

Was he overreacting? No, he had seen it himself inside her mind. It was like a black hole had formed and was sucking in one piece of Rose at a time. The Doctor shuddered violently and banged his head back against the counter behind him as he forced himself not to think about what happened when there was nothing left for the vacuum to consume. What would be left of Rose?

With an unsteady breath, the Doctor pulled himself back to his feet. There was nothing he could do about it tonight. He needed to clean up the lab and make it spotless before the guards came to take him back to the slave quarters. He felt useless and without options, but that was hardly a new feeling anymore. Tomorrow he would wake to another dose of the drugs and be back to his slave self again.

But for now his arm was still bleeding, and the stitches were far too visible and obvious.

He grabbed a bandage off the table and began wrapping the area, placing a strip of gauze directly over the wound to protect it until the incisions healed enough to remove the stitches. Then he set about scrubbing the lab down as he did each night, hiding his redemption in the form of a chemical away inside a bottom drawer and hoping, despite knowing it was futile, that his guilt would get locked in there with it as well.

TBC

A/N Please review! I only have two weeks left of work before a fourteen hour plane flight and lots and lots of time on long trains rides, so I plan to crank out a bunch of chapters in August and would really appreciate the support. See you next time!