He stared at the ceiling. It was about the only thing to do in the bare single occupant cell. Equally bored guards with omniscient cameras had proved intolerant of his more creative methods of passing the time. After the first few dozen of reprisals, he had given up. Now he stared, trying to remember better times and waiting. Sometimes the drugs made that difficult, but today was a good day, so to speak.
It would be easier if he knew for certain they weren't coming for him. If they were going to rescue him, surely they would have done so months ago. He wouldn't believe that they would deliberately leave him here this long. But then, he couldn't believe that they would leave him here at all. Besides, the TARDIS had not not shown herself to be the most accurate method of time travel.
He hated feeling helpless, depending on rescue like some sidekick in a bad holodrama. He had tried to break himself out, but that hadn't ended well. These people seemed to have no sense of humour and added nymphomania to his already long list of supposed disorders. He hadn't known it was possible to be both a sociopath and a delusional schizophrenic, but as the second label had kept them from executing him outright, he supposed he ought not to question it.
It probably was his own fault he was in here anyway, appropriately enough for a damsel in distress. He should have found some way off station before the colonists had arrived, wanting to know why their homeworld had fallen silent. Setting alone on station full of bodies, with a delta wave generator pointed at a ruined Earth had not made a terribly good first impression. He should at least have come up with a better story than an invasion of mythical demons that spontaneously disappeared for an unknown reason. He wondered when he had made a habit of telling the truth.
Sometimes he thought he heard the time capsule's engines. They had to be, nothing else in the universe sounded like that. Sometimes he even saw them. She was smiling and glowingly beautiful; he was tall and dark and handsome in black leather. Those thoughts often lead down a road that earned him a little too much attention from the guards, no sense of humour. He didn't think it was fair to fill him full of that many drugs and then not let him enjoy them.
He didn't think it was fair to for a vision like that to be a dream.