Jack looked up as activity on the monitor for the Doctor's cell showed the Time Lord writhing on the floor. The medical read outs were so chaotic, it appeared as if the sensors themselves were failing. Sending his chair crashing to the floor the captain sprinted out of his office towards the holding cells. He was almost at the entrance when a body blow from the side knocked him off his feet. Rolling with the force of the blow, he expertly landed in a crouch and was about to jump at his attacker, only to have a fist slam into his jaw, knocking him back down to the floor.

"Jack! Think!" Ianto pleaded, his voice sharp edged with desperation. "You can't help him. You'll only make it worse. He'll try to protect you from it. He can't afford to do that."

Sitting on the floor, Jack was stunned by the blow as the words sank in. Words that contained the truth he didn't want to accept. There was nothing he could do. His only thought had been to get to the cell, but then what? He had no idea. Jack's throat was tight, his fists clenching and unclenching as he stared at one of the screens showing the Doctor's cell. The Time Lord's pain was obvious as he twisted on the floor, but so was his concentration. A distraction, like an idiot friend entering the cell could prove fatal. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, the writhing stopped. The Doctor looked, well, not peaceful, but as least still. Eyes closed, breathing slow and measured. He'd won whatever skirmish he'd been in. Without saying a word, Jack pushed up from the floor and returned to his office, paying no attention to Ianto's profuse apologies.

Hours later Jack finished following yet another promising lead that turned out to be a dead end. The snap of the pencil he had forgotten he was holding startled him, as did the pain of the jagged edge piercing the palm of his hand. He stared at the injury, accessing the damage done. Just a minor cut, nothing more, but it did sting.

Leaning back in his chair he realized he had other damage that had set in during his fruitless search. His shoulders ached and his eyes felt like they had been rolled in sand, side effects from staring at the screen too long. He arched his back and rolled his shoulders, feeling them pop and snap as he stretched muscles and tendons that had been too long held in one position. Then he entwined his fingers and stretched his arms above his head, gasping with pain as his muscles protested. But it was a good pain and helped clear his head.

As he dropped his hands back down to the desk, the back of his right one brushed against a cold coffee cup. He looked down and frowned. Ianto was slipping or maybe after the altercation he just didn't want to risk entering the office. Jack sighed and picked the cup up, grateful that he took his coffee black, any milk or cream might have turned by now. Grimacing, he took a swig of the bitter liquid. Not the way he preferred his coffee but with all his time in the military he'd learned not to be picky about such things. That he even noticed it showed he was getting soft.

"J-12, J-12," he muttered, frustrated at the scant information the Doctor had left them with. When he had started searching the data in his vortex manipulator, his initial fear had been that he would find nothing referring to J-12. That turned out not to be the problem. Towns, planets, solar systems, quadrants, anything that could be mapped on a grid, had an area that was labeled J-12. Then there were the countless flats, office spaces and hotel rooms that had the number J-12. As a result, even though he had worked steadily throughout the night, he'd barely made a dent in all the innumerable references to J-12. But he had to keep working if he was going to find out what J-12 meant, and what the mysterious device was before the creature killed the Doctor or worse, Jack had to flash the cell and kill his friend himself.

That last thought startled him. Kill the Doctor? Could he? He glanced over to Ianto, visible through the glass wall of his office, hard at work at his station. No, it wasn't a responsibility he could delegate to someone else either. If it was to be done, he had to be the one to do it. He was about to turn back to work when he stopped himself. This wasn't the answer. There had to be a better way.

Jack rubbed his jaw as he studied his monitor, stubble rough against his hand as he thought about the problem. The pain he felt as his hand rubbed over the bruise reminded him of his earlier stupidity. The view of the cell showed that the Doctor was quiet for now, he hadn't moved for hours. His face was neither peaceful nor in distress, but instead exhibited signs of deep concentration, brow furrowed as if he was working on a problem he couldn't solve. An expression that was at odds with what the medical readout showed. He was obviously in pain but was either blocking it or was so overwhelmed by the agony his nervous system had gone into overload and no longer registered it.

"You stupid idiot," whispered Jack, still staring at the monitor, not knowing if he was referring to the Doctor with his stiff necked pride that wouldn't allow him to talk about whatever problems he was having, or himself, for not pressing his friend for the truth. Rashly he had trusted that the Doctor knew what he was doing, a big mistake on his part, possibly a fatal one for the Doctor.

Jack shook himself, his mind was wandering. He needed to get back to the problem of how to narrow his search. The Doctor had been acting strange ever since he had been deposited in the Plass by the TARDIS. That was important. It didn't start here. It had begun before the Doctor's arrival. He'd brought whatever it was with him. He needed to find out where the Doctor had been recently. There were no companions with him when he arrived. No one he could question. When the Doctor had dropped Jack off in the park, Rose, his double and that redhead were with him. He couldn't contact Rose or the double, but the redhead. Now that was a possibility. The Doctor had said she was back with her family. Donna that was her name, Donna Noble, best temp in Chiswick she had called herself. She would know.

"Ianto," he yelled as he ran out of his office, "get me Donna Noble's phone number."

"Donna Noble, sir?" Ianto asked, looking confused and concerned.

"Yes, try Chiswick. She may be able to give us a clue as to what is wrong with the Doctor."

Ianto gave a quick nod of his head and turned to his terminal. "Yes sir, right away."

Jack watched as Ianto's eyes narrowed on his monitor and listened to the soft rhythmic clicking his fingers made as they flew over the keyboard. Excited and barely able to contain his impatience Jack waited. This was the answer. He held his breath when the sound of typing suddenly stopped. Ianto looked up. "I have it sir, I texted it to your mobile."

"Great," Jack said with relief as he tapped the number in the text message and heard his phone dial it. He was on the right track now. No more dead ends. Not only would Donna know where the Doctor had been, she was part Time Lord now. She had the Doctor's intelligence, his knowledge. The DoctorDonna she'd called herself. She could solve this puzzle easily, all would be well.

"Hello?" said the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Donna, it's Jack. I need your help."

"Jack… Jack who? I don't know any Jack. Who gave you this number?" the voice was becoming high pitched with confusion and exasperation.

"Jack Harkness, you remember, Torchwood, the TARDIS."

"What's a…" the voice faltered and sounded pained, "TARDIS?"

"Donna, Donna honey…" said a new voice, older, male, distant, in the room with Donna, but not on the phone. "Give me the phone."

"Gramps?" asked Donna her voice weak and thready, "What's wrong, what's a…"

"Donna just give me the phone and go lie down," ordered Gramps gently.

"Okay Gramps," replied Donna feebly. Jack waited as his hopes for an easy solution faded with the sound of Donna's voice. He heard a door close and then "Gramps" was on the phone. His voice containing more anger and threat than Jack would have thought possible in an old man's whisper.

"Who are you? What do you want with my Donna?"

"I'm Captain Harkness," explained Jack hoping his rank would get the old man's respect and attention. A man his age should have had some military service.

"Well, beggin' your pardon Captain, but you need to leave my Donna alone. Don't you go calling this number again, you hear me?"

"Sir, I need to talk to her. She was traveling with a friend of mine…"

"If you're a friend of that Doctor, than you should know better. He erased her memory, he did. Said if she remembered, her mind would burn up. Now you leave her alone. Don't go calling here again." The line went dead. With a despondent sigh, Jack slowly sank into an empty office chair at the workstation next to Ianto, absentmindedly slipping his mobile back in his pocket.

"No luck?" Ianto asked. His eyes and voice both full of concern.

"No… no… another dead end," sighed Jack with a disappointed shake of his head. "The Doctor has apparently erased her memory."

"We could try to restore it." Ianto suggested hopefully.

"No," replied Jack. "It seems that would "burn up" her brain, whatever that means."

"Is there anyone else we can contact?"

"Not that I can think of." Jack sat heavily in the chair and tried to gather his thoughts. "Secrets, so many secrets surrounded the Doctor," he thought morosely. His stared at the base of the water tower as he tried to decide what his next course of action should be. Mesmerized by the flow of the water, his gaze naturally sought out the source of its flow.

Springing from his seat, he grabbed his coat and ran to the exit.

"Jack?" Ianto called after him.

"The TARDIS, there has to be some record of where he's been in there," answered Jack as he opened the door.

"But…" Ianto's next words remained unheard as Jack dashed out of the Hub. When he reached the edge of the Plass, his hopes sank. There was a break in the weather, many people were taking advantage of it. But the central attraction of the Plass, the water tower, was being ignored by all. A gaggle of children with their teacher headed in its direction, only to veer away, back to the road they had come from. The TARDIS' mood had not improved. Well, she had to change it now. She wouldn't let the Doctor die, that was inconceivable. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself for the mental assault he was sure to experience, focused his mind on getting to the ship and set off swiftly towards the TARDIS.

The next thing he knew he was studying the posters on the outside of the Millennium Centre. He turned and stared back across the Plass, his hands in his pockets, the wind off the bay playing with his hair. The coming storm matched his mood. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily girl," he declared through gritted teeth as he forced his eyes to remain on the ship. It was physically painful to keep them there as the TARDIS fought to push them away, make him forget her existence. But pain was merely an old friend for a man who had died as many times as he had. This time he tried a new tack, slow, steady, determined, keeping the TARDIS in his sight and the reason for going there, the desperate state of the Doctor, in his mind, hoping she could somehow understand that message.

The progress he made was slow as he crossed the Plass. Each time he lifted a foot it was only with extreme effort that he was able to put it down in front of him and not to one side or the other as he felt the TARDIS try to turn him. Finally, his head feeling as if it had been filled with sharp rocks, he was standing in front of the TARDIS door.

"Good girl," he whispered to the ship, feeling her cold surface beneath his hand. He stroked it as he had seen the Doctor do smearing the drops of rain that had started to fall, "now just let me get inside."

Slowly, he pulled out his key and put it in the lock and tried it. It wouldn't turn. There was a metallic rattle as he jiggled it to get it to work. Nothing. "Could the Doctor have changed the lock?" he wondered. No, that wasn't it. She wasn't going to let him in. Not without a fight. Well he did have the ultimate door opener and she wouldn't expect him to have it. He pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his coat pocket with a smirk on his face.

"That's alright," drawled Jack, "you're not the first to play hard to get." He set the sonic, crudely, not having the finesse the Doctor had with it, but he felt his skills were sufficient for the task at hand. He had done repairs and modifications to the ship before after all, including a rather effective force field. Hand resting on the door of the TARDIS, he started to work on the lock, the sonic screwdriver humming. He held his breath as the lock started to turn.

"Damm it!" he yelled when a shock hit his palm. He shook his hand and frowned with narrowed eyes at the TARDIS door. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself before continuing. He wanted her assistance, not a fight. "Come on now, whatever he's done to make you this angry, you can't want him dead. And that's what he is going to be if you don't cooperate. So, just let me in, will you?"

Hoping he'd made his case he tried the key again. He held his breath, hesitating for a moment as icy drops of rain formed on his hand. His hopes soared as he felt the cold metal turn in his hand. Then it stopped and would go no further. He tried turning it the other way and found it wouldn't do that either. Pulling it out was unsuccessful, it was stuck. "Great, now the TARDIS had confiscated my key," he thought.

"Alright, we'll do it the hard way," stated firmly Jack. He brought up the sonic holding it in both hands and aimed it at the lock, careful not to touch the TARDIS.

Air came rushing into his lungs in a gigantic painful gulp as he sat up, accompanied by the all too familiar feel of having been dragged naked over glass shards, his face covered with cold wet rain. The TARDIS had killed him. Not that he stayed dead, but it still wasn't an experience he enjoyed.

"Jack, are you all right?" asked a familiar voice with a strong Welsh accent. He turned to see Gwen crouched next to him her face showing concern mixed with bemusement. "What are you doing here in the rain?"

"I thought I was getting into the TARDIS," sighed Jack as he got up off the ground. "I wasn't very successful. She raised some very strong objections. I even lost my key."

"This key?" asked Gwen holding up a small nondescript brass key.

"Yes, that's the one," said Jack as he took the key from Gwen. "How did you get it out of the lock?"

"I didn't, it was on the ground next to you. I thought it might be important."

"It's very important. Good thing you happened by, I might have missed it." Jack glanced over at the TARDIS and found his gaze sharply directed away, almost as if he had been slapped. Gwen was studying him under hair that was dripping wet as the weather became almost as inhospitable as the Doctor's ship.

"You sure you're alright?" Gwen asked.

"Yes, come on we've got work to do," Jack said to Gwen as he started off towards the Hub.

"I know, I spent most of the morning checking out leads for Ianto."

"What leads?" asked Jack asked sharply, wondering what Ianto was on to and why he hadn't mentioned it to him.

"Nothing much, just having me visit apartments and offices around here. All with the designation J-12. Didn't find anything. It would have helped if he could have told me what to look for other than something that didn't belong."

"It would help us all if we knew more than that," replied Jack irritated that Gwen was pointing out the obvious. "There is a good chance whatever J-12 refers to isn't even on this planet. Ianto filled you in on the Doctor, didn't he?"

"He briefed me." Gwen hesitated before continuing, her voice soft, full of worry and sympathy. "It's bad isn't it?"

"It's worse than bad. We have no idea what we are dealing with and we can't even get close to the victim without making him worse. And…" Jack took a deep breath. "There's a chance whatever it is can jump into someone else. Even reproduce, though I'm not sure how."

"That's why he's in the sterilization cell isn't it?"

"Yes, he put himself there. I first thought… maybe…" Jack shook his head not wanting to discuss with Gwen accusations he had hurled at Ianto. "Never mind, I wish we had more to go on."

"I think you are going at this the wrong way."

Jack stopped himself from snapping that he had already figured that out and waited for Gwen to continue.

"If he's as smart as you've said, wouldn't he have given us an obvious clue? Why would he give us a clue about a place we can't even get to? It should at least be on this planet and nearby I would think. Something close by that he believes we are familiar with. Perhaps something in the Hub itself."

Jack was silent as he opened the door to the Hub. Gwen had a point. It made sense. The Hub, it had to be in the Hub. He raced ahead of Gwen. Ianto had been searching the Torchwood files, there might be something he might have missed.

"Ianto," called Jack as he entered the main work area. "Did you find anything with J-12 in the Torchwood files? Something associated with this branch?"

"Not much sir, a few apartments in Cardiff that had been under observation in the past, a couple of bin numbers in store rooms but we haven't used that system here for some time."

"Bin numbers, here?"

"Yes sir, the bins were just shelving units, the numbers were a way of identifying which one, but the store room that used that system was remodeled to make room for more holding cells and the lab. The back store room is used for larger items so they didn't use a bin number system, just a grid, but it didn't go up to J-12."

"There are some shelves in the store room the Doctor was working in aren't there?"

"Yes sir, but the inventory system…" Ianto stopped talking, a look of sudden enlightenment crossed his face, followed immediately by shame. "The labels are still on some of the shelves and cabinets," he continued quietly. "We didn't remove them. I'm sorry Jack. I should have…"

Jack ignored the apology. He didn't have time for such niceties or, more correctly, the Doctor didn't.

"Gwen, you come with me," Jack ordered. "Ianto you stay here and monitor the Doctor's condition. Let me know if it changes." He left for the storage room before Ianto could reply. Gwen gave him a sympathetic shrug before turning to follow the captain.

Ianto watched them both leave, feeling inadequate, unfit for his job. He'd let Jack down. The critical piece of information had been found by him and he failed to recognize it for what it was. The Doctor had no way of knowing that system wasn't in use any more, he would have thought that label meant something obvious.

Turning to his computer Ianto went back to what he did best, taking care of things for Jack. Those little details that were often lost in the rush. A quick check of the cameras showed that Frank was safely asleep in his cell. He appeared to have eaten all of the breakfast Ianto had brought him. It brought an unexpected smile to the aide's face. The MI5 agent should be out for the rest of the day.

Checking on the ambassador, Ianto saw a situation that was not as ideal. The ambassador hadn't touched his meal. He'd slept through the night and awoken when Ianto had entered the cell with his breakfast, but other than sitting up he hadn't moved or spoken. It was as if there was nothing behind the old man's eyes. Not much could be done about that now. The medical readings showed he wasn't in any danger. "Most likely it is just grief," Ianto thought.

Now for the Doctor's cell, prominent on Ianto's display. There had been no movement for hours, the Doctor's face was a study of pained concentration. The medical readouts appeared stable. Ianto studied them, feeling he was again missing something. On a hunch he pulled up the reading from 4 hours ago. At first glance they appeared the same. The beating of his hearts was steady, as were the respirations. Not being medically trained, there really wasn't much more he could tell from the various waveforms on the screen. He overlaid the older readout on the current one and froze at what he saw on the screen.

The wave forms were similar but the amplitudes had changed. Though his hearts were beating steadily, the strength of those beats was diminished. The same was true of the respirations. There were other readouts that had changed. Brainwaves were diminished in some areas and increased in others. What that meant, he didn't know.

He pulled up a reading from two hours ago and added it to the overlay. The change from four hours ago to two hours ago was less than half what the change was from two hours to now. Not only was the Doctor getting worse, the rate at which his health was failing was accelerating.
Even if Jack figured out how to get whatever it was out of the Doctor Ianto was sure he would need medical help if he was to survive. Not wanting to let Jack down again he checked the local UNIT roster to see who was available from their medical corps. The pickings were slim. There had been an outbreak of avian flu in the local command. Everyone was under quarantine. He would have to search farther afield.

The London roster showed a welcome surprise. A medical doctor well versed in alien physiology was on leave, but available for emergencies. Hopefully they hadn't strayed too far. He made the decision to call the person directly. He would work on getting permission from the UNIT commander in London once the doctor was on the way. Quickly he dialed the number on the roster.

Fifty klicks east northeast of the hub, in the county of Monmouthshire just north of Chepstow, a mobile phone started to ring.