STORIES

TEN

Wil fended off consciousness as long as she could, since that would lose her the consoling death-like world she'd found comfort in and propel her inextricably toward a place she did not want to go.

She slowly came to and floated there only half-sentient, waiting for something to happen.

Then she realized that she couldn't see and it frightened her half out of her wits.

It had felt like her eyelids were crusted over with something, but when she'd finally managed to pry them open, there was only darkness.

Her brain screamed as she sucked in air through her mouth and tried to struggle but couldn't. Somehow, and despite her terror, she came to understand that her head was enclosed in some sort of hood, perhaps a heavy cloth sack. That probably explained why she wasn't able to see anything and why it was so difficult to breathe…

Hyperventilating, she thought. I'm going to hyperventilate if I don't calm down.

But she was so incredibly scared. The side of her face felt itchy, sticky, wet. With a start she realized it was probably, almost certainly, blood. Her blood. She'd had bad things happen to her before, but nothing ever like this. This was like some of those crazy stories Rose Tyler had told her back at the Hub, like when she'd been held captive on that ship by the clockwork robots. Like that but only this time there was no Doctor to come roaring to the rescue… Once again she felt her breathing go frighteningly out of control. Her heart was pounding like a timpani drum in her chest. Wil squeezed her eyelids tightly together and the face she saw in her mind's eye was that of Jack Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness – with that wonderful, soothing voice of his – was instructing her on the finer points of what to do if she ever found herself in a situation just like this one. She reached out for the memory of him, the quality of his words, and the resonance of his voice.

"Take things step-by-step," he told her. "Stay calm. Be composed. Be observant. Stay positive. Conduct an inventory. Use all your senses. Do what you can to figure out where you are, what's going on, and then how to get out. Test the security. Test your restraints. If you get the chance to fight, do so as if your life depends on it, because it will. If you get the chance to escape, get out as quickly as you can and don't look back. Never look back. If you are unable to fight and you can't escape, cooperate if that's your only option."

She felt the fear rising up again. She felt sick. She felt cold. She felt alone. "Oh, Jack," she whispered to herself.

"Stay positive and keep track of time," the Captain's shade answered her.

Oh God! She had absolutely no idea what time it was. How long had she been unconscious? If it had been too long… she inhaled sharply, thinking of John waiting for her, wondering… worrying…

"Try to ascertain where you are and who has abducted you and why." Jack was still talking to her. "Don't beg, don't plead. Be strong and stay in control," he added. And then, "Stillness, quietness, serenity," he murmured softly, so softly.

Wil took a deep breath and listened, straining to make out the slightest noise. She heard nothing. Then slowly, tentatively, she started to investigate her situation and physical condition. She didn't think she was too badly injured. Her arms, which were bound down tightly at her sides, still felt fairly strong. It was hard to tell for sure, but it seemed that John's wristband was gone; at least she couldn't feel it. But then her hands and lower arms seemed numb, she suspected that gravity and inactivity had caused the blood to pool in them. She squelched an urge to fixate on the possibility that the precious wristband had been taken and reluctantly, but out of necessity, moved on. Her arms were bound to her torso, and her torso was bound, it seemed, to the back of the chair on which she was sitting. Her ankles were bound together but her knees, hips and thighs felt free to move. That was the good news. The bad news was that there seemed to be some sort of garrote around her neck. It wasn't uncomfortably tight, but if she moved her head a little too far to one side or the other she felt its pressure against her carotid artery. Wil concluded that while she could likely use her legs and feet to knock the chair over, she took the risk of strangling herself if she did.

So, she probably wasn't going to be able to break free.

As for who had abducted her, well… she had a pretty good idea. The Gnel, of course. But as for why she'd been abducted, she hadn't a clue. It made no sense. What could they hope to accomplish? What could they possibly want from her?

"Stillness, quietness, serenity," Jack whispered again.

Eventually she started to feel a little calmer, a little more peaceful, a little more centered, but she was also starting to feel very drowsy. Wil felt her eyelids droop and then close as she dropped off into a troubled sleep. A short time later – or was it? – she woke with a start, afraid that perhaps she had sustained a concussion and that sleep was the worst thing for her.

It was then that she heard the sound. She was no longer alone. It dawned on her that a concussion might be the least of her worries.