Peter was running towards the fire before he even realised that he was doing it.

It might have been the soldier inside of him that now meant he was automatically conditioned to charge headlong into danger, regardless of whatever form it took. The only thought that was crossing through his mind as his feet flew over the cobbled ground was that someone was in need of help. He wasn't a firefighter and had neither the training nor experience to do much about the blaze, but that did not mean that he couldn't try and assist the situation in any way that he could. If that meant doing something as menial as crowd control or handing out bottles of water and blankets, then he would do it.

Already, however, the pungent smell of smoke was enough to make getting any closer to the inferno difficult. But Peter pushed on through the nauseating urge to choke on the toxic air. He was simply going to have to adapt to this scenario when he reached it.

The Doctor and Rose were right behind him.

The great plumage of smoke that was rising high above the historical skyline of Algero guided them towards the source of the unfolding disaster, and it did not take them long to reach the street where the fire had taken hold. Fighting against scores of Nimarians who were fleeing from the stench clouds of burning material, an underlining fear seemed to have gripped this part of the city that the blaze could quickly spread against the dry weather and abundant spring breeze.

It had happened before, in other places where the majority of the buildings were stood too close to one another.

Peter found himself cursing his own luck that his first day on Valerus might yet coincide with the planet's capital city burning to the ground. Lingering memories from school lessons on Pudding Lane and the Great Fire of London in sixteen sixty-six were not helping to reassure him that disaster could be avoided as he began to struggle to catch his breath against the hazy and smoke-tinged air that was wafting away from the building that had caught alight.

It was one of the multi-storey tenement blocks.

Made of stone with a rooftop made from terracotta tiles that were in keeping with the majority of Algero's architecture, the three-floored structure was a lot more solidly built than the wooden homes which had once turned London into a tinderbox. But that did not mean that the roof could not collapse in on itself, and the two identical structures attached on either side of it made the possibility of the fire spreading very real.

The small crowd of Nimarians that had gathered to watch the inferno were right in the path of any destruction that might unfold.

Rooted to the spot through a combination of fixated terror and morbid fascination, the small gathering of wolves seemed unable to remove themselves from watching as the roaring flames were left unchecked to gut the interior of the building's topmost floor and reduce whatever was inside to charred remnants and ash. Already two of the four windows had been blown out, leaving shards of shattered glass strewn all across the cobbled street some thirty meters below as billows of black smoke poured out of the rectangular-shaped openings.

This blaze certainly wasn't going to burn itself out any time soon, and it was only going to get much worse should it be left unchallenged.

Pushing his way through to the front of the crowd, Peter had begun to notice that that nearly all of the Nimarians who had remained behind to watch the fire were not passersby caught up in the drama of wanting to find out what might happen next. The black smudges of soot on their faces and grim expressions made it obvious that these people lived in the building and it was their home and all that they owned that was being destroyed before their very eyes.

But was there anyone still inside?

"Please, just keep back. The Guardsman will be here very soon."

The tone of the woman's voice was the exact right mixture of showing understanding and sympathy towards the plight of the displaced residents and being commanding enough to ensure that none of them endangered themselves by trying to do anything reckless in their desperation of watching their home burn down.

Peter felt his heart skip a beat as he laid his eyes on her for the first time.

She was as tall as he was in her high heels and had a graceful, slender figure which her burgundy dress beautifully complemented. Her silky black hair had been pulled up into a side-swept bun, leaving her elegant neckline on display. But it was her bewitchingly dark eyes that had really captured Peter's attention, and he could begin to feel himself getting lost in their abyss as she momentarily looked his way…

BANG!

A great explosive wave of flash fire soared out of the window as it came into contact with something inside that had given the blaze a sudden renewal of fuel. It could have been a kitchen appliance or even the gas mains… Did Nimarians even have gas? No, the Doctor had said they got their power from the plasma they extracted from deep underground.

But that didn't mean the electromagnetic source of energy could not yet still blow up and take out the whole street.

Panic had taken hold of the crowd now and those towards the front were just a few meters away from the doorway as black smoke continued to spew out like the great lumbering snorts of a dragon. Someone was going to end up getting hurt soon if people couldn't back away and a sense of order quickly established.

"Right, you heard her! Everyone step away as much as you can." Peter announced. "Those at the back, unless you can put the fire out, you need to leave."

There was a collective mumbling which ran through the crowd, followed a moment later by a conscientious shuffling back of a few paces as some of the less curious bystanders did indeed turn around and leave the area. But the effort wasn't enough and there were still an awful amount of people here, and it was clear to Rose that the emergency services might struggle to get through the huddled mass once they arrived.

"Come on!" She shouted. "All of you! That's it, on your way."

One man was so transfixed by the orange flames dancing in flickering swathes far above him that he almost fell over as Rose physically pushed him back. Losing sight of the Doctor as he dove into the crowd to escort some of the more reluctantly moving Nimarians out of harm's way, she made sure that several other men and women at least backed away enough so that they were now stood at a somewhat safe distance.

"Is there anyone else still inside?" Peter asked. "Is anyone missing?"

The niggling sensation that someone was in trouble hadn't yet gone away.

When they had first arrived at Torchwood House, and long before realising what a terrifying visit it would turn out to be, he had known that the werewolf was there without even understanding what it was he was sensing. Peter had been driven towards finding him by gut instinct alone, and it was that same pull in the pit of his stomach that was guiding him once again.

The raven-haired woman shook her attractive head at him.

"I'm not sure. The fire started so quickly… Most of them barely got out as it is."

Peter growled with frustration at the uncertainty. They were running out of time to figure out if a rescue needed to be mounted.

Although so far no one had spoken up to say that anyone they cared about or lived next to was indeed unaccounted for, the harried evacuation meant that someone could have very easily bee left behind. It was also the middle of the day and people might have gone out to work or to the shops without telling anyone, only to return to a burnt-out shell that had once been their home.

If anyone was still trapped inside the building, the smoke would kill them long before the flames would.

"Where the hell is the fire brigade?"

The woman looked at Peter with some confusion over his choice of words.

She had said something about Guardsman, and the Doctor had mentioned finding one of their stations. They were the figures of authority around here, it seemed, and perhaps they did everything from policing Algero's streets to being sent to tackle this fire. They might arrive on some Victorian-esque fire engine that was pulled along by a team of horses given a lacking of any motorised vehicles.

But right now, all Peter cared about them was seeing that they arrive here within the next thirty seconds as he continued to look out for a glimpse of a uniform or hear the wailing drone of sirens.

"Please! My wife and child… They're in there!"

Several more cries of distress and desperation escaped the man as he came charging down the street and through the crowd of remaining bystanders. He didn't let them slow him down, however, and nor did it look as though he was going to be content with waiting for the Guardsman to turn up either.

Recognising the man as one of their neighbours, some of the gathered residents managed to catch hold of him before he ran straight into the burning building.

"No, Nicholas!" One woman shouted. "Wait for the Guardsman! They'll be here soon."

Nicholas ignored her and continued to struggle against the grip of the three men who now had their arms wrapped tightly around him.

Dressed in an immaculate charcoal grey suit that had a silver sash of silk running across the jacket's righthand breast, it could have been something worn to the office in this highly fashionable society. Given how out of breath he was, Nicholas could have just as easily run all the way home from his place of work upon learning of about the fire.

Tears were streaming down his face now, and he could no longer hold back the despair of not being able to do anything to help his family.

"Whoa, that's not a good idea!"

Nicholas had broken free of the men holding him back and once more tried to run into the building. Catching him and almost being knocked off his feet in the process, Peter was aided by Rose and the raven-haired woman in stopping him from doing so.

With this final attempt thwarted, Nicholas collapsed to his knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

Feeling her heart break at every shaken breath he took, Rose crouched down next to him and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. He was so sure that his wife and child were trapped inside the horrific fire, even though he had only just arrived and hadn't even checked for them once amongst the scores of gathered people. Even now, Nicholas was continuing to look up towards the third floor of the building, where the fire was at its very worst.

"Are you sure they're inside?" She asked him gently. "They might have gone out, or maybe -"

"He knows, Rose. He can feel it." Peter quietly told her. "They're in there."

Looking up and see the tension in his face as the woman stood next to him nodded in confirmation of what he was saying, Rose was about to argue back against their lacking optimism when she remembered just how intuitive wolves could be. Regardless of species, they seemed to possess the ability to sense one another and could easily seek out their own kind with nothing but a whiff of a scent or even on instinct alone.

Stepping forward and crouching down next to Rose rather impressively in her four-inch heels, the raven-haired woman tried her best to reassure him.

"The Guardsman will be here soon. They'll get them out."

"They won't get here in time," Peter remarked bitterly. "What's taking them so long?"

The glare which the woman shot over her shoulder at him was enough to remind Peter that the reality of the situation didn't need to be expressed aloud, especially in the presence of Nichols. But doing nothing in the meantime was simply becoming infuriatingly unbearable.

It wasn't something he was willing to tolerate any longer.

Looking at the building itself rather than the fire that was consuming it, Peter figured that the layout of it looked simple enough and the way up to the third floor should still be possible even as it continued to burn. The main doorway was unblocked and the roof was still standing for the moment. As long as there were no more flash fires then it should structurally be sound enough to go inside.

He just needed some kind of protection against the smoke. An oxygen mask would have been ideal, but there was no chance of finding one of those in time. But without anything to guard his nose and mouth, it would almost be impossible to breathe and…

The woman's dress.

It was a much more formfitting garment that most of the other ladies sleek outfits. The short sleeves and bodice were made out of a crushed velvet material that was a shade darker than the rouge pencil skirt that came to just above her knees. But it was the billowing decorative piece of fabric stitched across the right shoulder that hung over her arm like a cape that had caught Peter's attention.

It was certainly long enough to wrap around his nose and mouth. But he still needed to douse it in something that would…

The stone trough at the foot of the building must have been installed for the benefit of Algero's horses, and it was filled to the brim with water. Combine this with the cape of the woman's dress and quite suddenly, Peter had a primitive but marginally effective form of protection against the smoke.

"What do you think you're doing!?"

"Someone's got to go in there now," Peter told her. "Sorry, I need to borrow this."

If the woman was mad about him tearing a piece of her expensive-looking dress clean off, then it was quickly replaced with complete and utter astonishment as she stood back up and turned around just in time to see him running off towards the building and the water trough.

Dunking the piece of material under the water, Peter didn't bother to wring it out. The heat of the fire would quickly evaporate any moisture trapped within the maroon piece of velvet, and he was going to have to be quick to utilise its usefulness. The moment it dried up he would have nothing to stop the smoke from overwhelming his lungs.

Tying it over his nose and mouth announced to everyone what he was about to do.

"Peter, don't do it!" Rose shouted. "Doctor, tell him!"

But as Rose turned around with the expectation of seeing the Time Lord stood behind her, looking just as aghast as she felt towards Peter's recklessness, she discovered that he had vanished without a trace. The last she'd seen of him, the Doctor had been helping guide people away from the fire. But that would only take him a few meters away from her and he should have come straight back even if it was any further.

So where could he possibly have gone that could be any more important than being right here?

By the time Rose looked back towards the building, she already knew that it was too late to stop Peter. Watching powerlessly as the Nimarian ran into a blackened wall of thick black smog, she could only hope that he knew what he was doing.

Peter's eyes were already streaming from the toxic air before he'd even gotten halfway across the entrance hall.

It was a communal space with half a dozen doors leading into separate dwellings, the floor was marble and it had a large table with a vase of flowers placed in the middle of it. Barely able to see his own hand in front of his face, he winced as his hip collided with the wooden edge and sent the ceramic piece crashing to the floor. Feeling a few of the shards crunch underfoot and hoping that none of them had pierced the sole of his boot, Peter managed to grab onto one of the iron bannisters of the staircase and use it to navigate his way up toward the first floor.

"Hello!" He shouted. "Can anyone hear me!?"

The damp mask was muffling his voice but he knew that another Nimarian wouldn't have any issue in being able to hear him, even above the crackling flames of the fire.

Reaching the first floor and seeing three more doors identical to those in the lobby below him, Peter knew from the way they'd been left ajar that they were empty. Besides, Nicholas had been gazing up at the topmost level where the blown-out windows were. That where he would find the man's wife and child, and hopefully still alive too.

As he climbed up to the second floor, he could really feel the heat of the fire against his skin now. Looking up the final staircase and up towards the third floor, he could see glimpses of an amber glow against the grey smog of the smoke. But Peter didn't dare to linger or think twice about going up there.

Velvet wasn't very water-absorbent and most of the moisture trapped within his makeshift mask had either dried up or run down towards the collar of his shirt, quickly drenching it and the water mixed in with his own sweat. To make matters worse, the sheer amount of smoke here was almost unbearable and his ability to breath even with his mask was quickly reduced to what felt like sucking in air through a very thin straw.

Whatever water did remain also tasted like it had sat out in the sun too long and it was starting to making Peter feel sick.

The topmost floor only had two apartments and the front door of the righthand one had been left wide open just like all the others. But against what sliver of luck Peter might have been hoping for, this empty dwelling was not the side which had caught fire and had the blown-out windows. Bright flickering of orange light could be seen coming from underneath the closed door of the home he needed to search. For all he knew, the flames could already be right on the other side of it and would punch upon him the moment he tried to open it.

Ever so tentatively, Peter reached out with the tips of his fingers and placed them against the metal doorknob.

It was warm but didn't burn his skin. That was a good sign and meant that the fire was not yet close enough to endanger him. Twisting it, however, he found that the door was locked and the lock simply would not budge an inch even as he tried to use sheer force to break it off. It was something he'd done before, on Earth and…

But this was Valerus. Everyone on this planet had the strength Peter possessed, and it wouldn't be very secure if every home could be broken into so easily.

He would have to kick it down instead and hope that the wooden part of the door was much more susceptible to breaking than the handle was. But even taking down a regular door wasn't an easy task and every action film always made it seem much more simple than it actually was. You had to be precise with your aim and strike that wood surrounding the keyhole whilst avoiding the lock itself.

Get it wrong and you'd end up with a broken ankle, and it never broke open on the first attempt.

Crack!

The glossy green painted coat of the door splintered and a darker spiderweb of the underlying wood was exposed before Peter lash out with his foot again to kick it in the exact same spot. He was rewarded on his third attempt as the still locked door handle and a scrap of wood surrounding it remained in place, but the rest of the door broke away and flew open as it bounced noisily against the hallway wall behind it.

Stepping through and wincing as the heat suddenly intensified tenfold that was making the back of his eyes burn, Peter was confronted by the sight of a solid tsunami of fire less than a dozen meters away from him. It was howling at him like a fierce animal, angry and terrifyingly wicked. Determined to consume everything in its path, there didn't seem anything in the world capable of stopping it.

The hypnotic dancing of the flames was producing an ugly black wastage of smoke as it left only silhouetted remains of the furnishings that it had already consumed. What looked to have once been the open planned lounge and kitchen of this small loft apartment was now nothing more a charred shadow of itself. Peter could just make out the long rectangular impression of a sofa frame directly ahead of him.

But it was an oven which had started the fire.

He could tell from the enraged intensity of the flames that were still surrounding the unmistakable shape. Had a gas ring been left on and caught alight? No… There was no gas here, Peter! Okay, the plasma or whatever powered it had caught alight and the explosion they'd all seen before from down on street level had only worsened the blaze.

Yet if Nicholas' wife was here, why hadn't she stopped it?

The door had been locked from the inside and there was no chance of her or the child also trapped here being able to climb out of the window to safety. They both were still here and Peter knew that he was running out of time to find them and still get out of this alive.

Ignoring the ablaze lounge and kitchen at the other end of the narrow hallway, there were three other rooms that needed to be searched.

The door to Peter's immediate left had been left open and he could see a large double bed in the middle of it. This was were Nicolas and his wife must sleep, but there was no-one in there right now and he quickly moved on towards the middle door that was almost opposite it.

The tentative creaks coming from the roof above him suddenly turned into a splintering gunshot as an entire section of moulded plaster broke away.

Dropping to the ground and expecting to be buried at any moment, Peter looked back up and saw that the tiniest of fractions of underlying timber had prevented the large lump of material from actually falling. Instead, it had swung as though on a hinge and struck the wall just inches away from him, spraying dust everywhere and making the already almost unbreathable air even worse.

Coughing and spluttering under his mask as the last of the moisturised coating dried up, he reached up towards the doorknob right above him and yelled as the hot metal burnt his skin.

The difference of being a few meters closer to the fire was enough to inflict damage and Peter had wrapped his whole hand around it too. But the pain of it at least served to spur him back up and onto his feet. Now he just had to get the door open without actually using the handle. It wasn't locked as the front door had been, but neither did Peter want to accidentally hit anyone on the other side of it either.

With nothing else available to him, and with his right hand painfully throbbing against every moment it made, Peter took in a deep breath and removed the piece of cloth covering his nose and mouth. It was like sucking on a car exhaust pipe and he almost passed out the moment the first a whiff of smoke passed into his lungs. Fighting against the urge to throw up, he wrapped the fabric around his uninjured hand and opened up the door.

Nicolas' unconscious wife was slumped up against the wall right next to the bathroom sink.

It was a tiny space, with barely enough room for her to fit between it, the shower cubical and toilet. But the dried blood covering most of her forehead and one discarded high heeled shoe right next tot he door told Peter exactly what had happened. She had slipped or stumbled in the ridiculously tall shoes on the tiled surface and hit her head against the sink. Though the wound had healed itself, she had not yet come around and whatever she had been cooking on the stove had been left unattended too long.

Stepping over to her as he put his mask back on, Peter was relieved to see that her chest was still rising and falling despite the toxic air. "Okay… You're going to be…" He tried to tell her. "Come on…"

Talking and trying to rouse her hurt too much and was sapping away what few remaining reserves of strength that he would need to get her out of here. There was still the child to find, of course, but he simply couldn't carry both of them out even if he knew where she was. Besides, lingering might cost everyone their lives and part of the roof had already almost taken him out.

Making a silent promise to come back for the child, Peter wrapped his arms under the woman's shoulders and pulled her up.

Her limbs dangled awkwardly like those of a rag doll as he leaned her against his chest before managing to drape her across the back of his neck and lift her off the ground. Called a fireman's carry because it was such a perfect method of carrying someone out of a blazing fire, Peter remembered to wrap one arm around the woman's legs as he grabbed hold of her right hand so that her slender frame could not slide off him.

Leaving the apartment and leaning tentatively against the bannister for support with his burnt hand, he slowly began his difficult descent back down the three flights of stairs.