Not being able to sense his location either spatially or temporally was maddening for the Doctor, in a very real and literal way. He felt as if he was spread across a thousand galaxies and condensed down into a single grain of sand slipping into a black hole. His mind rebelled at the impossibility of it, but it felt real none the less. The creature was concentrating on toying with the organ that allowed Time Lords to sense time and space, making him feel stretched and folded in ways no mere human mind could imagine. Mixed in with this were incoherent flashes of light and pain that made no sense. But then it was the time that mattered anyway. It could not have been eons he told himself. The earth had not turned to dust. It was just his broken time sense. He had to believe he was still in Torchwood, on the floor of the cell. He had to continue to hold the creature to him, not let it escape. So he doggedly sent the signals for his lungs to expand and contract, drawing in the air he couldn't feel, trusting it was still there. He willed his hearts to beat slowly, steadily, to send life sustaining blood to the rest of his body, unable to feel them respond, but knowing they must be responding because he still had thought. Unless he was wrong and there really was a hell, and he was in it.

Suddenly he felt the cold of the hard floor against his back, the beads of sweat that stung when they rolled across the scrapes and cuts on his body. His body shivered as nerves that had been under the command of the monster were freed and real world sensations rushed in. But most importantly, he could again sense that wonderful dent the mass of the earth made in the fabric of space, he felt its movement and the necessity of it. He delighted in the sensation of knowing when and where he was. Then felt an internal yank as the creature put all its effort into trying to escape his grasp. Someone was dangerously near, a target the creature dearly wanted. A target the Doctor could sense anytime it was near, Jack. In desperation the Doctor made his grip even tighter. Letting the creature know he would hang on till death. Then death came.

The cell was flooded with fire. He felt his skin blister and crisp as it charred in the intense heat. He continued to hold on to the creature's energy, not letting it escape, hoping he could at the critical moment, stop the regeneration and force the creature to die with him. His lungs filled with searing hot air as he started to scream. Then he realized he shouldn't be able to scream. He'd be dead before his first breath was complete. This was all sensory input the creature was driving into his nerves, effective, but not real. The lack of reality didn't stop his screams however. The pain was real even if the cause was not. But he could spare no thought to it. He had to continue to hang on, concentrate only on the creature and let his body react as instinct demanded.

Something new was added to his burden. Something he couldn't identify was making it harder to maintain his concentration. Like a buzzing throughout his body on top of the pain. His hearts were skipping, out of rhythm. He tried to regain control, but he had too much to do. The creature was now trying to merge totally with him. He was tempted to give up his grip but feared it was a feint. Panic struck when a small part of his energy was pulled away from him. Then it stopped, the energy returned, wounded but whole. The buzzing ceased. He could block the pain again and stop the screams. He couldn't see, but at least, he could feel cool air fill his lungs with every ragged breath he took. A small reprieve. There was a taste of iron and salt in his mouth, consistent with blood. He didn't care. He was breathing and the creature hadn't escaped. His energy was still firmly entwined with its. He'd won.

Then too quickly the battle was rejoined. The creature was sending new pain into his body as if his back was being racked by fiery claws. Putting rends in his flesh down to his ribs and spine. He knew it wasn't real, it was a distraction designed to get him to let go. It was after Jack again, he was sure of it. He tried to yell a warning, but could form no words through his screams. Then the pain stopped and he was plunged back into that world without sensation or time. He suspected the creature was recovering from its latest efforts, feeding off the mental pain and confusion caused by the impossible sensations. He made a feeble attempt to try to control his emotions, starve the creature. He failed. Keeping his lungs breathing and his hearts beating, holding the creature to him, that was all he had strength for. A strength that was fading as the creature became stronger.

Jack had the extractor tucked firmly under his arm as he approached the cell block egress. The door handle moved away from him as he reached for it.

"It didn't work?" asked Ianto as he held the door open.

"No, it didn't," barked Jack, irritated at being asked such an obvious question.

"Jack," snapped Gwen, the reprimand clear in her voice as Ianto looked away.

The captain held up his hand to stop her from continuing. He got her message, it was clear. This wasn't the time to alienate the team with his frustration. He took a deep breath, as he walked over to Tosh's old desk and gingerly set the energy extractor down on it, wishing she were still alive to help. He stared at the frustratingly meaningless symbols on the device, as he gathered his thoughts and considered his next words carefully.

They needed to concentrate on the problem, not on the failure. Who was he kidding he needed to concentrate on the problem. He was the one with the distracting emotions from this last failure, not his team. He turned away from the desk and faced them. Both were eyeing him warily. Ianto trying to keep his face a professional mask of neutrality but the worry behind his eyes was plainly visible. Gwen was not so subtle, her jaw was set firm, almost defying him to speak out of line again.

"The display makes no judgment as to which is host and which is invader," Jack explained with far more calmness than he felt. "What I saw was two equal sized, totally intertwined life forces. I couldn't even tell which was attacking which. I could have killed the Doctor while trying to save him. Let that thing have his body. We need to find a way to determine which energy signature is the creature's and which is the Doctor's."

He gestured towards the recalcitrant device. "Gwen, take a scan of the markings on this thing, see if you can find anything similar in our files. Gallifreyean is a rare language but a few symbols are common enough. We might get lucky."

He watched Gwen pull out her camera and carefully take pictures of the device. She was thorough, checking it on all sides for any markings, before taking the camera to her desk. He could tell from the worry on her face that she doubted she was up to the task. It didn't matter, he doubted any of them would be able to make sense of the markings. It was most likely a futile act. Just as what he was about to do was. But it was all he had. It was either this or go back with a fifty-fifty chance he would kill the Doctor. No, he pushed that thought aside. There had to be a way.

Jack sat down and turned on the device, and started searching through the instructions for any clue as to how to solve the problem of getting the creature out and leaving the Doctor intact. There had to be a catalog of energy signatures. Surely if it was a Gallifreyan device, it would at least have a typical Time Lord's energy signal on file somewhere, possibly hidden by a broken link.

He felt a presence behind his shoulder and turned to see Ianto hovering over him. A sudden thought stuck him. "Where's Martha?" he asked. "Shouldn't she be here by now?"

His aid frowned. "A rookie stopped her. Insisted on searching her car. I had to make a couple of calls or he would have taken her in for speeding and tampering with the traffic system."

Jack shook his head, most of the local constabulary knew their place, but there was a definite training problem with new hires. No time for that now though. "So how much longer till she is here?"

"She's almost at the car park now."

"Good, we're going to need her. I'm pretty sure his arm was broken in that last fit and I doubt that is all that is wrong with him." Jack ran his hand through his hair and started to turn away, but stopped when he realized Ianto wasn't leaving.

"Is there something else?"

Ianto looked down, hesitating before he responded. "I think I know something we might try."

Doubt warred with desperation in Jack's mind. The last thing he needed was another false lead, but he had to admit his current plan was grasping at straws. "I'm open to suggestions."

"The Doctor thought the ambassador might be infected. You could try the device on him. It might at least give us the creature's energy signature."

Dumbstruck that he hadn't thought of that himself, Jack snatched up the golden device and dashed back towards the cell block.

"Jack, No!" yelled Gwen as she ran after him.

He ignored her as he unlocked the cell block door. She grabbed his arm causing the energy extractor to slip from his grasp.

"What are you doing?" he yelled, barely managing to catch the device before it hit the floor.

"I could ask the same of you?" Gwen countered, the force in her voice more than matching his as she stepped in front of the open cell block doorway.

Jack, shifted his weight, preparing to push past her, then hesitated. The near accident with the energy converter made him more cautious. Best he try reason first, though he was going to be in for a fight. Her face was firm and stubborn, with a fire in her eyes that told him this stubbornness was born of compassion, and she had no intention of giving in.

"He's not a lab rat, Jack, he's a human being," Gwen reasoned. "You can't just turn that thing on him and hope it works. You saw what it did to the Doctor. It might kill a human for all you know."

"And if I don't do this, the Doctor might die," retorted Jack trying to keep his voice calm and rational. "I'm out of ideas Gwen and he's almost out of time."

"We don't even know if the ambassador's infected. You could be risking his life for nothing. Would the Doctor want that?"

Jack looked past Gwen at the cell that held the Doctor. "Would he?" he asked himself. "Did it matter?" came the reply. People had risked their lives and died for the Doctor many times before, whether he wanted them to or not. He really didn't get a vote in this. But it was time to try a different tack with Gwen.

"Gwen, if that thing is in the ambassador it won't be long before he finds himself in the same predicament the Doctor is in. Right now it should be small and easy to remove. Later it might be too late. This is as much for the ambassador's own good as it is for the Doctor's." He saw Gwen bite her lip as her resolve started to falter and he knew he had his lever.

"He should still be the one to make the decision, Jack."

"And how is that going to happen?" he replied with a calculated hint of sadness in his voice. "Gwen, you've seen him. He's in no condition to make any decisions. He's just been staring at the wall for the past three hours. I'm not even sure if we can get him to talk, the state he's in."

"Let me try. We owe him that much, at least. If it's obvious he can't decide for himself, then yes. But if he says no, you have to find another way, agreed?"

The old man was out of it, thought Jack. He doubted she would get any reaction from him, which would be just as good as a yes. "Agreed, you have five minutes to get a response from him, then we do it my way."

Gwen frowned, but nodded her agreement before entering the cellblock. Jack followed her to the cell, stopping in the doorway to observe. The former policewoman did have a touch when it came to connecting with people, though he felt her efforts would be futile in this situation.

"Hello Nigel," she said softly as she approached the old man, pulling up a chair so she could sit across from him. As Jack expected the ambassador showed no sign of noticing her presence, his gaze was over her shoulder, staring at nothing, she persisted however. "I know this all must seem horribly confusing to you, it certainly was for me when I first came here, but I need to talk to you about what happened. We know you weren't the one who killed Celeste. It wasn't your fault what happened."

To Jack's amazement and disappointment, the ambassador blinked and turned to face Gwen, Calm and soothing, her voice continued. "I know you remember doing it, but it wasn't you, not really. There's this creature, made of energy. It was inside you when Celeste died. It used your body to kill her."

"Wh… Why?" the ambassador stammered as a faint light of intelligence showed in his eyes. "Why kill Celeste?"

"We don't know." Gwen shook her head. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you we'll find out, but we may never know why."

At that news the old man turned away from Gwen. His shoulders sank and his gaze became unfocused again. She was losing him.

"Nigel," Gwen called sympathetically, her hand reaching out to his, "I need you to stay with me. This is important. We think the creature may have left a piece of itself inside you."

His head turned quickly back to face her, his eyes wide. "Inside me?" he whispered.

"Yes, and we need to get it out before it grows any stronger."

"But, it's not the creature that killed Celeste?" he asked. There was a slight tremble in his voice, but it was obvious to Jack he was quickly regaining the use of his faculties.

"No, we think what is in you is like its child, but removing it from you will give us information on the creature that killed Celeste and prevent it from taking over anyone else."

"Will you kill it?"

"Yes, we'll kill it, if we can. So, will you let us try to take it out? We'll move you to the infirmary and there will be a doctor there to look after you."

The ambassador stared at Jack and the device he had tucked under his arm. "Infirmary? Not here?"

"Yes, the infirmary," assured Gwen with a smile. "It will be safer for you and we can get more information about the creature there than we can here, can't we Jack?" She looked Jack in the eye, defying him to contradict her.

"Yes, we can," Jack replied impatiently. "Is he able to get there under his own power or should I call Ianto to help him?"

"I can walk," stated the ambassador as he stood up rather shakily. The steps were small and slow but Jack could tell from the expression on the old man's face he thought he was striding determinedly to the door. The sluggishness of the pace was frustrating. He was about to call for Ianto to help, but Gwen caught his eye and shook her head. Jack sighed and stepped out of the way as the pair exited the cell. Gwen was next to the ambassador, her arm was behind him, not touching, but ready catch him should his pride cease to hold him upright.

Jack stared at the pair as they walked down the corridor. This wasn't working out quite how he planned, but Gwen was right, the infirmary would be better. And not injuring the old man's pride was probably a good idea. He just hoped that pride was strong enough for the old man to make it to the infirmary. Cracking his head on the floor and dying before they got to use the energy extractor on him could ruin everything.