Chapter seven, which I actually started writing immediately after I posted ch. 6. It's amazing how long I was writing on Saturday. Has anyone else noticed the chapters getting progressively shorter? It's starting to bug me, And after reading over previous chapters, I found a few minute mistakes that are very irksome. I really should read the entire chapter before posting, instead of just skimming. T.T

Oh well.

The game continues.

Jack stood there, waiting for everyone to be present before setting off down the middle hall. He focused his thoughts on a way to escape; this method diverted his attention from the swollen feeling on the right side of his head. Going down the middle hall seemed the most logical thing to do, but the way the other corridors had led into each other…. This one could go anywhere: it could go further into wherever they were, or it could be their escape. Only walking it would tell. He hoped it went outside.

But given the circumstances, they would have to decide between the lesser of a handful of evils. If fortune pitied them enough to allow choices.

The captain was getting annoyed with the persistent ache from his battered ribs, and his head had given a particularly painful throb when he stumbled earlier. The terrible, flickering lighting did nothing to help. Convincing himself that the gashes and skull fracture really did not exist helped abate the pain, and he was certain any expression of discomfort had left his face. The effort of blocking out his screaming nerves distracted him from the bleak setting around them. One thing he appreciated, though: they were all together now. As a whole team, their chances of living were far greater than if they had been scattered about.

Even now, Jack remained uncertain of their survival. If they failed to find a way of escape, who knew how long they would be down here, or what awaited them. Any manner of vile task or creature could be around the next corner. The floor could give out suddenly; walls could collapse or send lethal projectiles hurtling into their heads without the slightest puff of warning. The uncertainty the situation created kept Jack aware of his team, aware of just how much they meant to him. And that there was no coming back for them. Dead and gone for good. Jack made a silent promise he wouldn't allow that to happen. If anyone was going to die, it would he him. Again. What difference would one more death make?

Right now he wouldn't entirely mind dying, aside from the fact it would be an extreme hindrance to everyone else. It wasn't fair to make them wait, or drag him along, just so he could be spared some discomfort. His body would become an inconvenience they could not afford if they wanted to leave this dark place alive. So, biting the metaphorical bullet, Jack stood a little straighter and walked a bit faster.

Well, he intended to, he honestly did. But his body had other ideas: the right side of his skull pounded harder and his already poor vision became speckled. His swollen eye had hardly improved since Gwen saw it, and within another two heartbeats, one half of his vision went completely black. Not prepared in the least for this loss of sight, he fell sideways, crashing into someone soft. Gwen, most likely, from the feel of the waist he grabbed at. She squeaked in surprise but caught him by the arms, easing him to the ground.

"Easy, Jack."

He didn't respond: a migraine clamped around his head and began gnawing at the space behind his eyes. His heart rushed blood so furiously through his system it drowned out all other sounds. Why the hell was this happening?

"Jack?" Gwen cradled Jack against her chest. His eyes were closed and he drew unsteady breath through an open mouth. Gwen put the back of her hand to his forehead and gasped at the elevated temperature.

"Jack?!"

"I don't think he can hear us," Ianto said as he crouched next to Gwen, looking unsure of what to do.

Owen sighed and came forward, motioning for Ianto to get out of his way. He knelt at the captain's head, tilting it to the side to survey the damage Gwen's pipe had inflicted. When he pressed the darkest patch of bloodied hair, Jack groaned and turned away from the prodding. Gwen glared at Owen, but he ignored her and put two fingers to Jack's neck to feel his pulse. After a rough minute he frowned and prised Jack's good eye open and examined the pupil, sighing as he let the lid slide shut.

"He's got a concussion, for one. Although it's a hell of a lot more likely his skull's fractured. I don't suppose you know how long ago this happened?"

"I..." Gwen shook her head; Owen nodded, acknowledging her as much as his own thoughts.

"Well, his temperature's nearing dangerously high, and his heart's racing." Owen pulled back one side of the captain's coat and gaped, mouth flapping a few times before succeeding in articulation.

"He really meant it. Jesus, Jack, how have you been walking all this time?"

Jack took one of Gwen's hands and squeezed; it was the only indication he knew the slightest bit of what they were talking about.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but this is going to hurt."

Jack's grip on Gwen's hand tightened.

Owen fully exposed one side of Jack's upper torso to more closely examine the slashes. First he glanced at them, and then he prodded one particularly enflamed, pink-edged laceration. Jack gasped and tried to pull away, but Owen put a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright—"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that again." It sounded like Jack tried to come off as angered, but the words were said somewhat breathlessly.

Owen gave a small smile and closed Jack's coat. "The only thing that I can think of is poison."

"Poison?!" Gwen's widened eyes snapped to Owen, not wanting it to be true.

"There's no other explanation for it, Gwen. He should have died and healed ages ago, but it just looks like it's been getting progressively worse."

"Infected is what it looks like," Ianto put in, hovering a few feet behind Owen.

Owen nodded and plopped onto the ground, scratching idly at the back of his neck.

"With how disgusting it is down here, I'm not surprised," Owen passed a hand over the top of his head, "however, there's nothing I can do now, with no equipment. What do you want to do, Jack?"

He didn't answer at first; he took a few longer breaths and then whispered,

"We need to keep moving, get out of here somehow… Just let me rest a bit more and I'll be fine." Jack opened his eyes and smiled; the right one opened a fraction more than it had only a few minutes prior. "See? I can already open it further."

The doctor in Owen told him that Jack, despite defying death on a disturbingly frequent basis, needed rest, medication even. Owen Harper of Torchwood, however, knew that what the captain said went. He locked eyes with Jack for a moment and saw that he wasn't entirely there, but struggling against unconsciousness and pain, agony more like.

The toadman sighed. Conceding defeat, he sat back on his heels and stood.

"Help me up." Jack tacked a smile to the tail of the plea.

Ianto stepped in then, and Owen readily allowed him to hoist Jack onto unsteady feet. It was now Gwen and the tea boy's joint responsibility to support the captain, who had regained some composure.

Jack sighed and drew a few deep breaths. "Onward, team."

Gwen chuckled, Ianto smiled, Owen rolled his eyes, and Toshiko's lips twitched.

It's short, cleaned to sparkling, and I felt like updating early. But I may not update on Friday or Saturday, so savor this! When I started writing it, I said "it'll be longer than the last one" but I think I failed that...

Agua Mage: I fulfilled your "request" and still kept the story going! Wewt!

Does anyone else think that was a whole chapter of filler?

Well, they're on the move once again. What will they find next?

Random question: what do you think about OC's in fanfics? (not saying I'm going to do so, but just as a question)

Again, I thank all the reviewers , and readers, even though, if you don't review, I don't really know if you've read it because there's no hard proof….

- Willow