Chapter Text
By the fifty-first century, humans had spread out across the universe claiming new planets of their own. They had built a massive empire that spanned many systems and caused the rest of the species to take notice. The human race was no longer just a few billion people living on a small blue planet in an insignificant part of the galaxy. The Doctor had known for awhile now that they would be at the end of the universe but now others were also taking notice that the human race was one not to be messed with. That they would survive and fight on no matter how many times they were pushed back. They now interacted, traded, and helped other species. For the most part, the humans learned to live peacefully with the others. Just like any other race though, there were a few who rebelled.
For those who were rebellious many prison colonies were set up. Some of them were small, taking up a portion of the moon or an island on the planet the humans had claimed. The men and women were often separated but on more than one occasion they were put into the same prison. Those prisons turned into colonies of their own, where the children on them grew up living a life of fear. Some of the worse killers the worlds had ever seen emerged from those colonies. Still all of them were better than the prison colony Hades. Named for the Greek god of the dead, Hades was where the worst male criminals were sent and forgotten. While in the other colonies it was possible to return to a normal life when your sentence was complete, no one ever left Hades.
The Doctor felt that it may have been a compliant when he was dropped off on the destitute planet after the Shadow Proclamation finally caught up with him. He had been on the run from them ever since he refused to take them into war against the Daleks when the Earth had gone missing. It was his own crimes against the universe and time though that landed him in Prison. He had become too cocky and felt that he was the Time Lord Victorious. He had ruined a woman's legacy, changed history and brought down kings just because he could. Now here he was on a small planet on the outskirts of a large solar system. The planet had an artificial atmosphere that kept its inhabitants alive but did little to sustain their lives. The sunlight did little to warm the planet and the simple prison clothes of brown slacks and a brown shirt did little to protect the prisoners. Most of them died within their first month on the planet, but the Doctor was determined not to be a statistic. He would get off this planet and back to his TARDIS. He just didn't know how.
Looking out over the dark planet he saw no one. There were no bushes, no trees, not even the cry of an animal to let him know that he wasn't alone on the planet. In the distance, there were small hills that stood out against the landscape. It was times like this that he wished he had his sonic, but that too had been taken from him. His sonic though could have told him whether or not there were people in the distance and if he needed to take shelter from a storm. He had to make a decision quickly though. Standing here at the drop site was not the best solution. Here he was out in the open and exposed, he couldn't stop someone from attacking him. If he was going to survive long enough to escape the first thing he needed to do was find shelter.
He didn't want to head towards the hills because he was sure that is where the other prisoners would have headed. He had to be weary of them as not everyone who was placed on this planet were just killers. Some of them had used their intelligence to build devices that destroyed entire cities. They too would know how to survive. He took a deep breath, regretting it immediately as the cold air filled his lungs. It was low in oxygen and made him feel dizzy for a moment. He was going to have to remember to breathe normally if he was going to live. Adding that to his list, he cautiously began to make his way towards the hills.
It seemed that he had walked for hours before he finally got close enough to see the hills clearly. He was right to be wary because as he got closer he could see that the hills were in fact inhabitated. The hills were filled with men, moving about living their lives in this bleak environment. He ducked down observing them, trying to get a count of just how many men were out there. He counted at least fifty of them moving around and going into caves that dotted the hills. Some of the caves had makeshift doors on them protecting its owner from the environment. What surprised him more though was that other caves had bars on them. The prisoners were keeping their own prisoners in those caves. They even had guards on the doors to stop them from escaping.
As he observed, he saw one of the men motion to the other. The man pointed to his eyes and then pointed to the landscape. The Doctor's eyes went wide as he realized that the man was staring right at him. Standing up quickly he raised his hands and moved closer to the camp.
"I mean you no harm," He called out as he approached. The men grabbed makeshift spears and came towards him. He stood his ground though. He had faced Daleks, cybermen and things people only saw in their dreams. He wasn't afraid of a few men with spears. He kept his hands raised as they encircled him. They spoke to each other in a language that he didn't understand and he didn't have the TARDIS to translate for him. He frowned at them. "I'm so.." Was all he got out before a fist hit him squarely in the jaw.
"Prisoners do not speak," The man stated. He hit the Doctor again and his world went black.
-DW-
The Doctor didn't know how long he was out before he woke with a start. His face was sore and he felt colder than before. He opened his eyes to find that he was lying in a dark cell. It was hard to see but putting his hand down revealed that he was lying in water. As his eyes adjust to the dark, he figured out that he was in one of the cells he had seen. He moved his body out of the water, trying to find a dry piece of ground that he could sit on. There wasn't one though. All of the ground was wet and muddy and the room stunk. Trying not to focus on the smell, he stood and moved to the front of the cell.
"Why have I been placed in your cells?" He asked a man standing guard. The man continued to stare forward ignoring the Doctor. In his hand, he held a large stick with a point on one side. "If I broke one of your laws, I demand to be told which one." He received no answer except for the man to hit him in the stomach with the dull of the stick. Moving back he held his stomach as he fought not to get sick. He snuck down in the far corner of the cell, sitting on his heels to keep out of the mud. He wanted away from this planet and back to the comfort of his TARDIS. He didn't know if he was ever going to see his home and his friend again, but he couldn't give up hope that he would. Giving up hope would mean dying and he wasn't ready to regenerate.
"He never answers." A small voice said. Turning in confusing he saw a gap in the wall that separated the cells. A young man, probably still in his teens, was looking through the hole at him. "I suggest if you don't want him to stab you next, that you remain quiet."
"I want to know why I am in the cells," The Doctor stated.
"Because you're new. If you're lucky they will decide to kill you quickly and that will be the end of it."
"And if they don't?" The Doctor asked. The man shuddered.
"Pray they do," He stated before moving away. The Doctor moved closer to the gap looking through it to try to see the young man. The darkness though made seeing anything hard.
"I'm not afraid," The Doctor told the man.
"Then you are foolish," The man answered. "Quiet now before they hear us." The Doctor sat back once more. He tried to keep his mind busy with equations to fix the TARDIS but he was bored. He wanted to leave the cell and run. Though this planet was his prison, it was also a new place to explore. He was eager to get out of the cell and learn what the planet had to offer. His thoughts were interrupted by screaming coming from the young man's cell. He looked through the gap as the screaming was abruptly cut off. He couldn't see anything in the cell but shadows moving towards the door. Standing up, he hurried to the cell door to see the young man hanging limply between two other men.
"Leave him alone," He called out. He was rewarded for his trying to protect the man, but a sharp point jabbing into his stomach. He grabbed his stomach, feeling the sticky warmness of blood. He pressed down hard on the wound, trying to keep from crying out as he tried to stop the bleeding. Exploring it carefully with his fingers, he found that it wasn't deep. He got the message though and moved to the back of the cell again.
Time was hard to keep with no light and no days to tell him how long he had been on the planet. The young man was never returned to his cell and the Doctor was positive that the man had been killed. It was only a matter of time before they came for him and he had no way to protect himself when they did. He tried to observe the changing of the guards and counted to himself how often they changed out. The times kept changing though and there was never a moment where someone wasn't guarding his door. Though he watched and prepared, he never saw an opportunity to escape. He was stuck in the cell on a planet called Hades and he was sure he was going to die here. In the short time since he arrived on the planet, he couldn't remember one time that He wasn't cold, hungry and alone. He knew that he was feeling sorry for himself, but he couldn't help it. He missed his companions and wanted more than anything to travel with Donna once more. Donna had been right from the start, he needed someone to stop him and without a companion he had let his anger get the worse of him. Donna would be ashamed if she knew what trouble he had wrecked without her.
He looked up as a plate was pushed into his cell. On the plate was a small portion of what looked like gruel. He was too hungry to worry long about the choice of food and used his fingers to scoop a little into his mouth. He immediately spat it out again as the food tasted terrible. No matter how hungry he was, he couldn't bring himself to swallow the vile stuff. Pushing the plate away he continued to sit in the cell and wait.