The trio entered the Hub, the Doctor carrying the Toclafane shell, examining it as he walked, while Jack and Ianto worked out some administrative details involving his custody.
"Jack, the agreement was that we have at least two people watching him at all times," Ianto explained. "I can just call Gwen in, it won't take too long."
"I don't want to wait," Jack protested. "It gives Frank too much time to figure out a way to stop the transfer. Besides, it wasn't clear that we had to follow the same rules in our own HQ. It's not like this is a public place, we can always claim he was in handcuffs here if they press the issue. Besides, we might need Gwen tonight to take a turn in the Doctor's suite."
The Doctor stopped in his tracks at the last sentence. "A turn in my what?" he asked incredulously.
Jack sighed. "I was hoping I could avoid it. But it looks like one of us is going to have to spend the night in your suite. It's part of the agreement."
"What, I'm supposed to have someone standing over me while I sleep?"
"No, not that. They'll be in the living area. Just until we get this straightened out," explained Jack. "But we have to have someone from Torchwood there in the suite or else MI5 is going to insist on having at least one of their people there, instead of two of them outside of your door."
The Doctor frowned, sensing Jack was holding something back. "Anything else you care to tell me?" he asked.
Jack looked down at the floor briefly. "They put their monitors back in. You're going to be on the MI5 hit parade tonight."
The Doctor rolled his eyes, pretending exasperation to cover up his frustration, and, if he was truly honest with himself, his fear. He had no idea what was going on when he slept, but he didn't want someone with the animosity that Frank had towards him finding out before he did. "Can't we just…"
"No, we can't. If they 'fail' MI5 is hardly going to believe it was an accident and they'll use it as evidence I can't control you."
"Is that what you're doing? Controlling me?" asked the Doctor, his irritation increasing.
Jack laughed. "You, hardly, but I do have to keep up appearances so MI5 doesn't realize that. I really need to go now and pick up the ambassador. If you need anything Ianto will get it for you."
"Uh, Jack?"asked the Doctor as he held out his hand. "My sonic screwdriver? I need it for my work."
Jack turned back to the Doctor and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I need to keep it with me." He subconsciously put his hand on the breast pocket that contained it as if assuring himself it was still there. "MI5 is sure to ask me to produce it. You'll have to make do with the tools we have here."
"It will slow me down, but I'll do what I can." Disappointed, the Doctor started across the footbridge over the reservoir for the water tower as Jack gave Ianto some final instructions. Too late the Doctor felt the rush of air as Myfanwy dove and knocked him to the deck, cracking his elbow on the grating. The sphere rolled free towards the open water. He scrambled after it as Ianto's and Jack's foot falls rang out on the walkway.
"Shoo, shoo, get away," Jack yelled, waving his arms at the pteranodon, who was hovering over the Doctor as if daring him to stand up. The Doctor, oblivious to Jack's rescue, reached for the sphere only to have it roll from under his finger tips as he touched it. Ianto stopped it with his foot, just as it was about to roll off the bridge into the water and picked it up.
"Thank you," said the Doctor as he sat himself cross legged on the bridge, catching his breath, wincing as he held his elbow. "I was afraid we were going to lose it there for a second. It's probably waterproof, but I'd prefer not to test it."
"Are you alright?" Jack asked.
"I'm fine. I'm fine. Bruised my elbow is all. It will be alright in a bit."
"I'm sorry, I really don't know what her problem is with you," replied Jack as he helped the Doctor to his feet. "She's due for a feeding soon. Maybe if you helped with that, let her associate you with food."
"I think she already associates me with food. I'd rather not reinforce that," replied the Doctor. He let his gaze go up the water tower where he saw Myfanwy circling lazily. His eye was drawn up even further to the lift platform. The TARDIS was just on the other side of that. Could she be affecting the pteranodon? Causing it to attack him?
"No, no," he thought. "She can't be that angry with me. There must be another explanation for the attacks." He continued to stare at the top of the water tower base, hoping he was right that the TARDIS wasn't angry enough to want to harm him. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?" Jack was asking.
"Yes, definitely, I was just making certain your pet wasn't coming for another run," replied the Doctor dismissively.
Jack looked up at Myfanwy who was placidly riding the air with only an occasional lazy flap of her wings. "I think she's done for now. You should be safe from any further assaults."
"Just the same, I'll remove myself from tempting her any further and get started on this," the Doctor stated as he took the Toclafane sphere from Ianto. "If you'll excuse me."
"It is going to be in one piece when you're done with it?"
"At least one," the Doctor replied cheekily, giving the sphere a little toss in the air before starting off towards the store room. He heard Jack giving instructions to Ianto to take care of him as he left.
The storeroom was as he had left it the night before. The energy extractor still on the table, untouched. He set the Toclafane shell down next to it and took off his coat, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. His hand was halfway in his pocket before he remembered he didn't have the sonic screwdriver. He shook his head and sighed as he made his way to a likely looking gun metal gray cabinet. A turn of the chrome handle on the cabinet door produced an unpleasant metal on metal screech but revealed a wealth of mundane tools.
He pulled out a tool box and filled it with some implements and supplies off the shelves. "Oh you are a beauty," he cooed when he saw a coil of high- energy conducting material. He'd been afraid he was going to be stuck with twenty first century wire and fiber optics. There were a few other surprises in the cabinet, a multi-probe that though primitive when compared with the sonic, was much better than the multi-meter he had originally thought he was going to be stuck with, a burnished metal box contained instruments that would allow him to have almost robotic precision when doing fine work.
Feeling much better about the implements he had to work with, he carried the toolbox back to the table. A tray of tea and biscuits was now on the table. Ianto had apparently slipped in while he was rummaging through the cabinet. It bothered him that he was so unaware of his surroundings as to not have noticed. He pushed the thoughts of self doubt aside and decided to enjoy what had been brought instead. A spot of tea before commencing to work was a good idea. Might clear his head a bit.
Surprise hit him as he took a sip of the hot liquid and found it to have a hint of bitterness. He smiled wryly. Willow bark. Ianto had put willow bark in the tea. The Doctor's attempts at camouflaging his pain had apparently been transparent. "Well, no matter," he thought, "the willow bark does help." This way he could avoid the humiliation of admitting he needed the analgesic. He continued to sip the tea, letting it ease the pain in his head as he started to work.
The Toclafane shell was now cold and lifeless. He turned it over in his hands looking for a release mechanism. His search proved unsuccessful, forcing him to pry it open manually. He winced at the squeal of the locking mechanism as he broke it and regretted the lack of his sonic screwdriver, which forced him to work in such an inelegant manner. Fortunately none of the internal components had been damaged by the forced entry.
The multi-probe proved adequate for his purposes. It allowed him to quickly locate several frangilizers, more than adequate for his needs. He also discovered several other components that were superior to the ones currently in the energy extractor. That wasn't surprising, the Master always did like to have the best technology possible. He wanted everything he had to be as superior as he felt himself to be.
The Doctor decided to start by removing the frangilizers. What should have been a simple task became complicated, not by the primitive tools he was forced to work with, but by his own body. His hands wouldn't remain steady while he worked. They seemed to jerk of their own accord at precisely the wrong moment. His frustration was building as he broke four of the needed parts in succession, before he finally successfully extracted one intact. And that extraction was more by sheer luck than any skill on his part. A twitch of his hand had caused the component to be flipped into the air as it came free. He had quickly caught it with his other hand.
He sat up and leaned against the back of the chair, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. The effort needed to remove the part had been far greater than it should have been. His neck and shoulders were cramped and painful, as if thin lines had been etched with acid in the very fibers of his muscles. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, breathing slowly and deeply as he stretched and kneaded the sore muscles.
Feeling better, he opened his eyes and surveyed the table. There was an odd tightness in the muscles over his collarbone. He rubbed it absentmindedly to no effect as he looked down in disgust at the four broken components. One was all he needed, but two would have been better. He had hoped to put in a redundant circuit as a protection from future failures. He briefly considered trying to extract the two that remained in the shell and decided against it for now. The other more advanced components he had at first thought to use to upgrade the energy extractor would also have to wait. He just wasn't up to the job at the moment. Best he just leave it and try working on something else.
From somewhere deep inside him came a feeling of terrible wrongness at that last thought. He tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go. For a reason he couldn't understand he felt it was essential to fix the energy extractor, to not put it off. But how? That was the problem. There was so much he wanted to do to make it robust, a device he could rely on, but in the condition he was in now, that just wasn't possible. He bit his lip as he considered what to do. He could, he reasoned, just install the frangilizer and tidy things up a bit. It would be functional but not as resilient as it needed to be. Operating it would be risky, the possibility of failure at a crucial time would be high, but… but… He shook his head there was no but, it was a recipe for disaster.
With a resigned sigh, he picked up the frangilizer, almost dropping it as he felt a stab of pain, as if something sharp and hot had pierced his left eye, accompanied by a flash of brilliant white light. He closed his eyes against the light and the pain and with great trepidation reached up to touch the cheek bone below his left eye. Feeling no moisture, he gingerly walked his finger tips under his glasses, up to the eyelid, and felt the intact eyeball beneath it. Sighing with relief, he slowly opened the painful eye. He could see out of it but it was agonizing to do so. He shut that one and opened the other.
Carefully he placed the frangilizer back on the table and reached out for the teapot. It was no longer warm but that didn't matter. He poured the remains of the tea into his cup, shaking it to make he got every last drop. He downed it quickly, grimacing at the bitter taste which came to the fore now that the tea was cold. He massaged his temples as the willow bark started to ease the pain. Thankfully it was soon down to a tolerable level. With a shaking hand he picked up the frangilizer. A war of emotions raged within him. He felt it was vital he repair the energy extractor and he felt that to do so was fraught with danger.
"I could fix it, put it aside somewhere," he reasoned. "Make it look as if I had given up on it. I could fetch it back when the TARDIS is willing to let me in again. It will be safe there." He chewed his lip as he thought about his compromise, wondering who he was compromising with. He shook his head, time to get on with the job.
Having a plan seemed to help. The feeling of dread was still there but diminished. His hand was steady as he started to install the part. There was one twitch, but he sensed it coming and quickly snatched his hand away from the device, narrowly avoiding destroying another component in the extractor. Except for that one close call, it proved to be a simple process, he'd done his prep well. Even without the sonic screwdriver he was quickly finished.
"Now, where to put it?" he thought. Looking around the room, he saw a shelf unit standing by itself in the back corner, its shelves almost over flowing with flotsam. Not alien devices from the rift, but typical Earth junk, broken power tools, junction boxes, coils of cable. Things people considered too good to throw out but in truth weren't of much use. It was the perfect hiding place. He picked the energy extractor up and started towards the corner.
Suddenly his whole body was shaking. He wanted to raise the device over his head and smash it on the floor, destroy it utterly. He found himself filled with irrational rage. "No, no, this is idiotic," he told himself. "This isn't evil, it's just a tool. The good or bad was in how it was used." He squeezed his eyes against the increasing pain in his head, took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. His eyes again open, he made his way to the back of the storeroom.
His hands were trembling as he stood in front of his goal. Quickly he jammed the energy extractor in amongst coils of wire, pushing it until he felt it hit against the wall behind the shelf. The tremors left his body. The device was well and truly buried now. Safe until he could transfer it to the TARDIS. His eye caught on a label on the front of the shelf. J-12. Above it was J -11. Strange there were only six shelves. The labeling made no sense at all. But that didn't matter, he knew where it was and no one else in Torchwood did.
He breathed a sigh of relief. That problem was tabled for now or shelved, more literally. Looking around the room, nothing really stood out as to what his next project should be. Taking off his glasses and putting them in his pocket he decided to check and see how much longer Jack would be.
Carefully he entered the office part of the hub, glancing upward to see where Myfanwy was. He smiled when he saw her slumbering on the platform of the lift. Most likely sleeping off the feeding Jack had mentioned. Not wanting to disturb the ancient reptile, the Doctor silently approached Ianto. The Welshman was concentrating on his screen, oblivious to the Doctor's presence. When the Doctor was close enough to read it, he could see why.
The TARDIS wasn't helping him with understanding what was on the screen, but it was obviously a translation program. Specialized symbols for linguistics and phonetics scrolled across the monitor. Intrigued, he stood quietly and studied them. He raised his eyebrows when he realized what the problem was and spoke up.
"It's time based," he explained. "Quite unusual, not many languages are time dependent. I can only think of two or three myself. Let me have a listen, maybe I can help."
Ianto whipped around in his chair, startled to see the Doctor, a brief look of horror on his blanched face before he regained his usual composure. "No, this really isn't important. Just a pet project of mine, I wouldn't want to waste your time with it."
"Nonsense," said the Doctor, his curiosity piqued as to what the Welshman might be hiding, "it would make for a nice change of pace for me." Before Ianto could protest, he reached for the keyboard and quickly punched in a few commands. He stopped in shock as his own voice filled the room.
The words were disjointed, fragments. He glanced sharply at Ianto whose face was now red with shame. This must be a recording of his utterances during the nightmares he'd been having. Apparently he'd missed a few of the monitoring devices. Jack was right, he was off his game.
When Ianto reached to turn off the sound, the Doctor put out his hand to stop him. "No, no, I want to hear this," he said. Ianto looked up at him out of the corner of his eye, almost cringing away from him.
"Yes, you should be concerned," thought the Doctor as he saw the Welshman's discomfort. "I'm going to be having some very strong words with Jack when he gets back." But he didn't want to deal with that problem right now. Now he was concerned with the words coming over the speaker. Whatever he'd been dreaming, it wasn't a normal nightmare.
The words were fragments of sentences, a fall from a radio telescope antenna, a bite of a spider, a call for help he didn't want to make. Death of a companion, of a wise old man, his own death, over and over, a lack of courage to touch the wires resulting in the destruction of the planet he loved. It was as if he was reliving in his dreams the worst parts of his life, one horrific moment right after the other, piling on top of each other, unable to make way for the next.
Then the rhythm changed. Humans were frightened, frightened of the sky. "The Sontarans?" he wondered silently. "Why would he fixate on that in his nightmare?" Then it changed again. They were now also frightened of him. No, this couldn't be his past. This was something his mind had created. Then he froze as he heard the words, spoken with his voice as they had been before. "Throw him out! Get rid of him! Cast him out! Into the sun!" The words that had been forced out his mouth, against his will, condemning him to death. It wasn't the sky the humans had been afraid of but Skye, the woman possessed by the creature on the planet Midnight. The creature that had also taken control of him, paralyzing him as the humans had dragged him to the door, to be thrown out into the toxic radiation that blanketed the planet.
A sharp, white hot pain in his stomach caused him to double over as the realization hit him. The creature may have been killed, but it had left a part of itself behind in him, like a seed. A seed which had been growing, getting stronger as it fed off his emotions. Now that he realized what it was, it was attacking him, trying to wrest control of his body, and indeed his mind, from him.
The creature inside him was a juvenile and wasn't as strong as the fully mature one on Midnight. But it had an advantage that creature didn't. On Midnight the Doctor had been new, unusual. It had to learn how to control both human and Time Lord and that control had been rudimentary at best. But this one had grown inside him. He was its native environment. An environment it had learned how to manipulate to meet his needs.
Not content to feed on the natural emotions of the Doctor, it had taken to producing them. It had snacked on his confusion when it played with his vision. The pain it sent the Doctor to distract him evoked emotions of worry and frustration it could dine on. And then the nightmares. The Doctor's mind was full of memories, guilt and fears. The creature had a wealth of raw material with which to create devastating nightmares that became a fabulous buffet of raw emotion that it could feast on. Growing ever stronger, preparing itself to take control of the body it occupied, while the Doctor became sicker and weaker. With the strength from the Doctor's nightmares, it had found it could control the ambassador and kill the Atterian who had somehow seen it behind the Time Lord's eyes.
That feat, however, had weakened the creature. Unfortunately not as weak as the Doctor needed it to be, as pain continued to wrack his body. He reached out and grabbed on to Ianto's shoulder for support. The Welshman was looking at him wide eyed, fear and concern battling for dominance on his face.
"Holding cells," gasped the Doctor. "You've got to put me in a holding cell." The Doctor cried out in pain as the creature changed its attack, making him feel as if his head was in a vice. A vice equipped with sharp jagged nails tearing at the flesh of his scalp, piecing his skull.
"No, we have an infirmary," Ianto insisted. "I'll take you there."
Frustrated beyond belief, the Doctor fought with the creature which was desperately trying to stop him from communicating. "No… no…" he managed to get out though the pain, "holding cell… Something's…" He struggled for the breath he needed to get out the next words. "inside… it's inside me… danger…" He screamed, feeling as if his spine had caught fire and dropped to the floor, on his hands and knees, wheezing as his throat closed up against the entry of air.
"I can't," Ianto protested. "Jack would be furious with me."
The Doctor squeezed his eyes against tears of both frustration and pain. It wasn't fair. He was having to both fight this creature and the denseness of this human's head. With considerable effort he forced his throat open. "A… cell… I'm not… sick… I'm invaded," he managed to get out in a series of gasps before rolling onto his side, whimpering in pain.
He felt Ianto start to pick him up and was horrified as he felt the creature prepare to leave him and enter easier prey. With a move he knew he would regret, he used his will to hold onto the creature and anchor it within him. The creature was struggling against his hold on it as he was struggling against its hold on him. As it fought to get free, it lessened its control of his body and with Ianto's help he could stand.
Panting from the battle, he let Ianto half carry him down the stairs to the cells, trying not to think about where they were going and tip the creature off. It didn't work. On the last step he howled in pain as his leg shattered, bone piercing the flesh of his calf, blood streaming down his leg soaking his sock. "No, no," he thought between desperate breaths, "that's not right. It's just an illusion. I can ignore it." Ianto's voice entered his awareness.
"Sir, are you alright?"
"Of all the stupid questions," he lamented silently, "of course he wasn't alright." But he couldn't afford to waste the energy a sarcastic response would have taken. It was more important he be secured.
"Just… get me… into a cell," he answered, taking a step forward, feeling bone grind against bone, accompanied by the wet feel of more blood gushing down his leg as the creature used illusion to try to keep him from his goal.
Ianto gently guided him to a cell. A transparent wall revealed a well made bed, sink and other facilities. No doubt prepared for the ambassador. But the Doctor saw another cell, its heavy metal door ajar. "No, here," he insisted as he lunged out from Ianto's supporting arm only to crash into the wall next to the door.
"No, Jack wouldn't want you in that one," Ianto insisted, again putting a supporting arm around the Doctor, trying to guide him to the first cell. "You'll be more comfortable here."
"No," the Doctor persisted as he again made a lunge for the heavy metal door, this time making it to the opening, leaning heavily against the jamb. He saw the water cooled nozzles on the walls and floor of the cell before his vision went black. "You can… flash… this cell…"
"Yes, but why?"
The Doctor continued to lean against the jamb for support, rolling his body around it so he was now in the cell. His breaths ragged and desperate from the effort. "If… if… you see me… change… glow… look different… flash it."
"but…"
"Just… do it!"
"Will Jack know what to do?" Ianto asked, worry and concern evident in his voice.
"Don't… don't let… Jack near… me. Not… till… it's gone… It might… might jump… I can't… can't… hold it… much longer… ambassador might be… might be infected…" the Doctor felt himself getting weaker, this conversation was taking too much out of him.
"But how do we get rid of it?"
"Device… J-12…" The creature realized what the Doctor was trying to say and redoubled its attack. He dropped to his knees as one of his hearts was stopped. Desperately he crawled on his elbows and knees, towards the center of the cell. He heard the door close behind him mere seconds before he collapsed on the cold floor.