Trusting the Enemy

Chapter 8

            Owen was still exhausted when he woke up the next morning, and it didn't help when he woke up with a steak knife at his throat and Murdar staring down at him. He shoved her back and plucked the knife from her before standing up and putting it on a table.

"Where am I?" Her voice spoke up behind him.

He turned around to see her now crouched in the corner, still trembling from her wounds. "Not lying dead on the road somewhere like I could've left you."

"Why?" She pressed harder against the wall and glanced around. "Why save me?"

"I'm a doctor." He walked over and forced her to stand up. "And with that in mind, you should listen when I say not to move around too much until I can get stitches in you."

He let go of her and took off the bloodied shirt from last night before walking over to his closet to get something clean. When he turned back around to go over to his dresser he saw she'd left the room, though he could hear her footsteps exploring the rest of his flat, which was basically ignoring his order to stay still as much as possible. Once he'd fully changed he walked out to find her sitting on the floor against the wall while her eyes darted suspiciously around the room.

"The couch is more comfortable." He motioned to it as he spoke before going into the kitchen.

"I'm sure it is." She muttered as he rummaged around for breakfast.

Owen took out a few doughnuts before walking back out to the timid woman and offering two to her; keeping the last one to eat himself. "Follow me."

He saw her examine the food before staring at him. "What is it?"

"Are you serious?" She glared at him as if insulted and he helped her up while explaining. "It's a doughnut... they're good... a bit unhealthy if you eat too many but you could use some though to cover your bones."

"Torchwood One fed me every two or three days if I counted right." Her response was quiet as she slowly followed him. "When they did it was only a small amount of tasteless mush to keep me alive."

"You should stop comparing your Torchwood experiences with my Torchwood." Owen growled a bit as he watched her hesitantly get into the car.

"Give me one reason to see you are different." She challenged him as he drove towards base.

He smirked. "That is too easy, I can list many reasons."

"If you find it easy then do it." She said after swallowing some of her breakfast.

"We haven't locked you up in a cell, no one has tried opening you up to look at your organs, we tried helping you if you would accept it, and if I were anything like those scientists you knew I would've left you for the Daleks to kill before going back to see what they did to kill you."

"Such a graphic image." Her sarcasm held a bored tone. "I could do much better with descriptions than you."

"With what subjects?" He glanced at her challengingly.

"Death." She ended the conversation by turning away from him to look out the window.

"I was thinking a bit differently." He laughed a bit before going silent, finally parking and getting out a few minutes later. "You don't plan on running again do you?"

Murdar was about to respond when a dark blur ran out from the rain slick streaks and knocked him to the ground. A growl sounded in his ear and long teeth brushed against his throat as a large clawed hand pressed the air out of his lungs.