And I'm back. Sorry about the delay, but I've been working on another story for a while and I'm trying to get it all typed up so there's not a ton to do all at once and, you know, priorities. Anywho, here's your chapter, wherein things of interest occur. Go forth and read! Disclaimer- I dunno, you guys. At this point maybe I should own Doctor Who, if only to get it out of Moffat's hands.

In Which Jack is Reminiscent, the Mysterious Aliens Are Finally Named, and a Long Overdue and Potentially Dangerous Decision is Made

~oOo~

The Doctor was asleep.

Again.

Stopping in front of the cell that the Doctor was in, sitting, leaning into a corner and quite obviously sleeping, Jack paused a moment, watching the alien with something almost resembling fondness. Before, of course, the momentary illusion of the old Doctor was gone, replaced instead by the person he'd become. Shaking his head slightly, the Immortal pounded a fist on the clear plexiglass like wall that separated him from the cells interior. The Time Lord flinched at the noise and his eyes snapped open, quickly fixing his gaze on Jack.

"What is it?" He asked, seeming to be perfectly alert despite having been asleep just moments ago.

"We've figured it out." Said Jack,watching the Doctor with care. The Doctor arched a curious eyebrow.

"And what exactly is 'it'?" He questioned.

"The aliens," Jack clarified. "What they do."

It was almost funny how the Doctor was trying to appear distant and not interested, despite being clearly intrigued. Almost.

"Emotions." Jack said, leaving his train of thought and returning to the conversation at hand. "They interfere with emotions."

And at this point, the Doctor gave up his act. He pushed off the ground and stood up, walking over to the clear front of his cell, mere inches away from Jack.

"That's new." He said after a moment, watching Jack. "And interesting. Very interesting. What's your plan, then? They're going to come back and there are going to be more of them. Interfering with emotions? They'll have a right time here in Cardiff. Starting with Torchwood is what they're doing, I'd guess. They'll screw with you. Owen, Gwen, Toshiko. Ianto-"

"Shut up!" Jack shouted. The Doctor twitched, but quickly recovered, a smile working itself across his features.

"You don't know how to fight them. You don't know where they're from or what they want. You don't know what to do."

"I said, shut up!" Thundered Jack, hitting the wall between him and the Doctor with the side of his fist.

"You're helpless!" The Time Lord taunted, laughing. Jack's jaw stiffened.

"I don't have to keep you here, Doctor. You've already threatened my team and killed another person. I could have you killed, the universe would be better off, and my life would be a hell of a lot easier."

"You won't do that, though." The Doctor grinned.

"And how do you figure?" The Captain challenged.

"Because you need me." The Doctor said simply, his smile manic.

Jack was silent a moment.

"...Why do you think I need you?" He questioned, acutely aware that he was treading on very, very open ground.

"You don't know what the hell it is you're doing anymore, Harkness." The Doctor paused. "Besides, you're still too attached to kill me." He mentioned as an after thought.

Ignoring the last bit of what the Doctor said, Jack spoke again, chosing each word with care.

"My team doesn't always know what they're doing, but they make it work-" He started.

"Your team doesn't always have me." The Doctor retorted. "And stop trying to make this about your bloody team. We both know that you haven't so much as mentioned this to them. You know I could help, know I could speed everything up, know that you need me."

'Leave it to the Doctor to see tight through me', thought Jack.

"...You're right."

He did need the Doctor.

He needed the madman with a box and an eccentric taste in footwear and a haphazard plan held together with not nearly enough paste.

He needed the Doctor.

Not the twisted version of him, locked out of his own ship and wearing a bloodstained suit. Not the cold-blooded murderer who had turned his back on everything he'd ever believed in. Not the heartless Time Lord, more reckless than ever before, now that he had nothing to lose.

He needed the Doctor.

And to get the Doctor back, he was going to have to make him remember exactly who he was.

~oOo~

"You know," Ianto started. "I've been thinking-"

"That's dangerous." Interrupted Owen, not looking up from the pile of papers he had stacked upon the table he sat at. Ianto shot Owen a venemous glare.

"Anyways," He continued. "We still don't have a name for these things."

"And you've come up with one, have you?" Asked Martha from where she sat next to Tom.

"I think so, yeah." Ianto replied.

"Lets hear it, then." Said Gwen. "You are sort of the authority on this type of thing."

Ianto flashed a smile to her.

"Saphris."

The Welshman was met with blank stares all the way around, and Owen froze.

"Saphris?" He asked, amusement clear in his voice.

"Is that a problem?" Ianto challenged.

"No." Said Owen. "Not at all."

He paused.

"You get that name from experience?"

"Shut your bloody mouth, Harper." Ianto flared. He turned from the rest of the team, starting towards the opposite side of the Hub.

"...I'll be in the archives if you need me." He muttered before disappearing.

And although Tom Milligan didn't know what a Saphris implied, or what the usual relationship between Owen and Ianto was, he felt that he summed everything up quite nicely when he said,

"Nice going, asshole."

~oOo~

Jack ascended a final stair and stepped into the main level of the Hub. Hands stuck in coat pockets, chin sunken upon his chest, he worked his way across the room, stopping when he reached where the rest of his team was, minus Ianto, curiously enough.

"-what exactly is a Saphris?" Asked Gwen, addressing Owen who was penciling his way through a stack of papers. Presumably medical reports, Jack thought.

"It's a drug," Owen started before being cut off by Jack.

"That's great and all," The Captain interrupted. "But we have some other, slightly more pressing issues at hand right now."

Owen was silent as Martha arched an eyebrow at Jack's manner.

"First off," Jack continued. "Where's Ianto?"

"Archives." Grunted Owen.

"Right. Someone go give a shout to him. Get him up here."

Tom stood up, starting towards the archives.

"I'll grab him." He volunteered.

"Good man." Said Jack, turning his attention back to his team.

"So what is it that's so bloody important, hey, Jack?" Inquired Owen, putting the pencil in his hand down and leaning back in his chair easily.

Jack glanced around at his team: Owen, Gwen, Toshiko, Martha -

And was suddenly struck by the realization that they trusted him. They trusted him to make all the right decisions, to call all the right plays, to be the confident, unshakable, infallible Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three.

At the same time he realized this, he also realized that he was the only person in the room who did not hold absolute faith in himself, or in the decision he was about to make.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

"I-...I need to talk to Martha." He stammered out. "Alone."

~oOo~

Jack closed the door to his office, effectively cutting both he and Martha off from the rest of Torchwood.

"Spit it out, then." Prompted Martha, turning to face the Captain. "What did we need to talk about?"

There was a significant silence before Jack answered.

"...I- we-" He broke off, studying the floor. "I want the Doctor to help us on this."

Pause.

"And I want to have a relatively normal life one day, Jack. But there's no way in hell that's going to happen." Martha remarked. Jack screwed his eyes shut.

"Just hear me out on this." He said, voice closer to helplessness than Martha had heard in a very long while.

"Alright." Martha conceded. "Talk."

Jack glanced up to her, a visage of surprise quickly passing over his features.

"I was talking to him, down in the holding cells," He started, chosing each word with care. "Explaining what the aliens-"

"Saphris." Martha interjected.

"I'm sorry?" Questioned Jack.

"Saphris. They're called Saphris. Ianto came up with it."

The Immortal gave a curt nod.

"Alright. Either way, I was explaining what the Saphris did, and-"

"Why?"

Jack was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke he did so quickly, his voice low.

"I know I shouldn't trust him, Martha. I know we can't trust him. But I honestly think that right now he's our best chance of figuring out why the Saphris are here, what they're doing. Because right now, I'm jumping into this blind, and I don't know what to do."

Martha was silent, mulling over what Jack had said.

"Even so, it's not as if he'll help. He won't want to, and as much as I hate to say it, if that's the case, then there's really not too much we can do."

"Well," Said Jack. "Actually..."

"What is it?"

"...He seemed interested."

Beat.

"You're kidding." Said Martha.

"Do you actually think I would be fucking around at a time like this?" Jack snapped, blue eyes dangerously bright.

"No, of course not." Martha answered quickly. "It's just- really?"

Jack gave a slight nod.

"So what is there to talk about?" Asked Martha. "We go to the cells, we get the Doctor, we figure this out, fix it, and then we go from there."

"Right." Agreed Jack, relieved, grateful even that Martha was thinking along the same lines as him. "Let's go."

Martha rolled her eyes, starting for the office door.

"It's like you were waiting for my approval." She muttered, but loudly enough that she knew Jack could hear her. The silence Jack replied with was answer enough. She turned, glancing at Jack. He looked lost, and he looked hurt, and, God, she needed to find out why every man she hung around insisted on looking like a kicked puppy.

She didn't say any of that, though.

"...You can't start doubting yourself, Jack. Not here. Not now. We need to you to be here, all of you." Is what she said after a moment.

Jack gave a small sniff, then, eyes darting up to meet Martha's, he flashed a grin full of bright white teeth.

Martha couldn't help but feel that was all the grin was.

~oOo~

The Doctor, pacing around his three by four meter cell, felt the sudden need to stop his pacing and instead stand very, very still.

Not because he was tired (he wasn't), or because he was bored (he was), but because of the footsteps. They sounded sure and even as they came down the stairs. There were two different sets of footfalls, he could tell. Two different people. They didn't sound like Toshiko's or Owen's, though one pair was light like theirs. Martha? Likely.

The other footsteps by sharp contrast were heavy and purposeful, and the Doctor immediately recognized them as Jack's.

Jack and Martha both coming down here? This could get interesting.

Sure enough, the Captain stopped before his cell, coat trailing behind him. He stopped just as Martha did, the pair of them standing side by side.

"What's this then?" The Doctor asked, suspicious.

"We need your help." Jack stated, voice steely cold. The Doctor's gaze flashed to the Immortal, expression almost one of amusement.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." He said, lips drawing into a smirk.

"I know." Jack replied. "You were right. We're jumping into this blind and we're lost. We need your help, Doc."

The Doctor was quiet for a moment.

"...Alright."

Jack arched an eyebrow.

"...You're just...agreeing to this?" He asked, a bit more than skeptical.

"If it'll get me out of this bloody cell, which, by the way, isn't up to standards according to the Shadow Proclamation, then I'd do damn near anything." The Doctor responded. Jack gave a slight nod.

"Right. First off, the Shadow Proclamation barely acknowledges our existence. I'm not sure that they care too much about our cells. Second, what happened to not helping people?"

The Doctor shrugged.

"Seems interesting." He said easily. Jack snorted at this and Martha took a step towards the Doctor.

"So you'll help?"

"As I said."

Martha exchanged an uneasy glance with Jack. While this was, as far as they could tell, the best option they had at the moment, it still seemed fundamentally wrong. Like asking a Dalek to help with a brilliant scheme that would save a world inhabited by bunnies. Nonetheless, the Jack looked away after a short moment, thrusting a hand into his coat pocket and rummaging around. He removed his hand from his pocket, brandished the small key he now held in his hand, and handed it to Martha. Martha accepted the key to the cell, and stuck it in the lock, giving it a strong twist. And, after half a moment's hesitation, pulled the cell door open.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow ever so slightly and took a step forwards, standing just behind the cell wall, until just a second later a single converse clad foot passed the wall, bringing him instead out into the hallway.

Clasping his hands together, he started towards the staircase, waiting for neither Jack nor Martha.

"Well then. Let's get started."

So the first person to tell me what a Saphris actually is gets to have me write in a scene or plot point of their choice, providing only that it won't fundamentally change the direction if which the story is going. Or you get cybercookies. Your call. To the rest of you, I'm actually going to get around to answering some reviews.

10ant- Regarding the chapter nine review you left, there definitely will be back story on how the Doctor got to be the way he is. Think it happens sometime in chapter fourteen, which I'm in the process of writing.

Guest(s)- Thanks for leaving reviews, I really do appreciate them. Sort of squee a little bit when I see that there's a new review. Just sort of flattered that you guys actually take the time to leave reviews and they make my day.

As for the rest of you, thanks for reading and/or reviewing.

Um, I think that's about it. If any of you ever want to PM me for any reason, feel free to.

So thanks for reading, have a great day, and DFTBA!