Enemy Unseen

Woo Hoo! getting tense in there!

Jennyjenkins wrote:Woo Hoo! getting tense in there!

Thank you, it should be getting more tense.

Paksena wrote:

Jennyjenkins wrote:Woo Hoo! getting tense in there!

Thank you, it should be getting more tense.

past...present...future...?

Thank you for posting. Looking forward to the next installment.

konstantin wrote:

Paksena wrote:

Jennyjenkins wrote:Woo Hoo! getting tense in there!

Thank you, it should be getting more tense.

past...present...future...?

Future

Aspadistra wrote:Thank you for posting. Looking forward to the next installment.

Thank you for your encouragement. The next one is up.

Jack was holding a small glass globe with a picture of a young woman inside, a memento of a love long lost. He stopped himself as he was about to put it in a drawer. The orb was cold and heavy in his hand as he stared at the image, wishing hologram technology had been available at the time it had been made. He briefly wondered how many loves he would lose throughout his infinite life and let the globe slip from his hand into the drawer with a soft thud, it rolled to the back of it, most likely to be forgotten.

As he closed the drawer he looked up and saw Martha waiting in his office doorway. “Are you alright?” she asked softly her voice full of concern. “How long has it been since you’ve had a break?”

“Actually,” said Jack as he got up from behind his desk, “that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Here have a seat.” He gestured to a chair in front of his desk as he came around and sat on the corner of it, keeping one leg on the ground He assumed a casual pose, as if he was about to talk about last week’s football game. He was gathering his thoughts trying to think of how to begin. However it was Martha who started off the conversation.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m really here?” she asked him as she sat down. “Ianto said you needed someone with my expertise. You needed a geriatric expert for what we just did, not me.”

“You have the clearances.”

“And you have retcon. Come on Jack, I don’t have time for these games. I have a patient to attend to. You wanted me here for a reason, what is it?”

Jack looked down and shook his head. “You’re right. I’m stalling and the ambassador isn’t the reason we brought you here. He was more a test subject.”

“A test subject!” cried Martha. “You might have killed him! In fact you may have!” The chair scraped along the floor as she jumped to her feet, furious. “What do you think you are doing here? Have you lost your mind?”

Jack held up a hand trying to deflect her anger. “Look, it’s more than that. He needed the procedure done. If what was inside him continued to grow he’d been in much worse shape than he is right now.”

“He was obviously stressed before the procedure. You could have given him time to regain his strength a little before you ‘cured’ him,” replied Martha as she took her seat again.

Jack sighed. “No I couldn't have, as I said, he was the test subject. We weren't even sure if he was infected. The real subject is in much worse shape. Right now he seems to be holding his own more or less, but I’m not sure how much longer that will be the case. The creature that is inside him has grown so strong it is equal in size to his own life energy, and he appears to be getting weaker as it gets stronger.”

“If it’s so urgent why are you wasting time here? Why aren't you getting the creature out of your real subject ?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. She’d struck a sore point. Every fiber of him wanted to start working on the Doctor now, but he didn’t dare. “The ambassador is the first time I’ve successfully used the device and that was a juvenile that was inside him, an infant really. It took far more concentration, speed and coordination than I thought it would. I’ve been going too long without a break and I need to rest before I tackle the other one. The safeties on the device we used aren’t working. A single mistake could be fatal.”

“Jack, you used a dodgy device on a British Ambassador so you could test it out before you used it on the real victim? What were you thinking? Who’s the real victim, a royal?”

“Martha,” Jack said softly, hesitating before finishing his reply, his stomach knotting at his anticipation of her reaction. “It’s the Doctor.”

Martha stood up like a shot. “Where is he?” she demanded. Why didn’t you tell me he was sick when I arrived here? I didn’t see the TARDIS in the Plas. Did he park it somewhere else? Is that where he is?” The questions continued to pour out with no break for an answer. Jack let them run their course, while he decided how to answer the first one. He knew how she felt and she wasn’t going to be too pleased with where the Doctor was. Finally she came back round to her original question.

“Jack, where is he? I need to see him,” she demanded with an authority that she must have acquired at UNIT.

“He’s in a holding cell. Ianto tried…” Jack caught Martha’s waist as she tried to run past him.

“How could you put him there?” she cried as she struggled to get free. “He should be in the infirmary, not that ambassador.” She thumped him hard on the shoulder. “What were you thinking? I thought you were his friend.” Another thump on top of the first, Jack could feel a bruise starting to form.

“Martha, Martha.” Jack’s voice was firm but quiet. “Listen to me. The holding cell was his idea. He put himself there. Ianto tried to move him and the Doctor paid for it. I tried to go to him and he suffered again. We can’t get near him and you can’t go to him. As much as I hate where he is, he knew what he was doing, and he was right.” He felt Martha stop struggling and relax in his arms as his words got through to her.

“So you’re telling me he wants to be in a cell?” she asked as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“No, I don’t think that is where he wants to be, but he knows that is where he needs to be. It’s where he insisted that he be. I was just as upset as you are when I found out. I thought… Well, never mind what I thought. But the Doctor insisted he be put in a cell, one that allows us to flash burn anything in it. He’s counting on us to save him and do the right thing if we can’t. Whatever is in him, can’t be allowed to spread.”

“Jack, you’re not saying you’re going to…” Martha stopped, unable to utter the unthinkable.

Jack held her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “Not if there is any way I can prevent it. That is only as a very last resort. But to prevent that from happening, I have to make sure that everything is done correctly. I won’t sugar coat it, the Doctor is in a very bad state, he won’t survive any mistakes on our part, and we have reason to believe he won’t regenerate either.”

Martha swallowed hard as she looked up at the captain, fear mixed with determination in her eyes. “Alright Jack, what do you need me to do?”

“First, and this will be the hardest for you, you have to promise me you will stay away from the cell block.” He felt the young doctor stiffen under his hands as a protest formed on her lips. “I mean it! It hurts him right now if we get near him. I think it distracts him from the battle he is in or perhaps he has to make an extra effort to protect us. I’m not sure which, but I do know it causes him pain.”

He turned her around to face the main monitor in his office. “Watch, you can see for yourself.” Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he reached over to his keyboard and with a few quick clicks, brought up the footage he himself had reviewed over and over again, searching for any clues as to what was wrong with his friend. It started from when the Doctor first doubled over and continued to when Ianto armed the cell.

Martha’s eyes went wide and her hand covered her open mouth as she watched the display. Jack could tell she wanted to look away, not see the pain and desperation on the Doctor’s face, hear the fear in his halting voice as he struggled to communicate with Ianto his need to be in a cell. Her breathing stopped when she saw the Doctor desperately fling himself towards the sterilization cell and did not return until she saw Ianto arm the cell and the screen went blank.

“Jack, how did he get like that?” Martha asked as she turned towards him, her voice pleading for an answer, some explanation for the horror she had just seen.

“We don’t know,” explained Jack. “He arrived here a few days ago. Didn’t seem to be himself, but he was pretty evasive. You know how he is, wouldn’t admit anything was wrong.” Martha nodded as Jack continued. “I figured he just needed some rest.”

His next sentence was lost in a yawn. “Martha, explanations are going to have to wait till later. Right now I’m the only one who knows how to operate that device and I am too tired to do it safely.” He hated himself for what he said next. “I need to sleep before I try again.” He changed the view on the monitor to the Doctors cell, the display showed medical readouts along the side.

“He’s in bad shape, Jack. I’m surprised he hasn’t regenerated by now.”

“We think he won’t regenerate,” Jack explained, “and if he does, you heard him, he’s given instructions the cell is to be flashed.”

“But, why, why would he say that?” cried Martha.

“We don’t know and right now, it’s not important.”

“Jack!”

“No, really, it isn’t. What’s important is that we save him, the answers come later.”

Jack considered the monitor and silently apologized to his friend for his weakness, his uncharacteristic caution. “Watch him for me,” he asked without taking his gaze from the monitor. “Wake me if he has a sudden drop in his condition. Until then, get hold of anything you might need to treat him once we get that thing out of him. And find that stuff they give to fighter pilots who are sleep deprived, modafinil I think it’s called. I don’t trust it, but I don’t trust myself in my current state. If I don’t get enough sleep, I’m going to have to use it, against my better judgment.”

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” Martha asked, her voice was filled with concern. Jack couldn’t tell if that concern was for him or the Doctor. Perhaps both.

Jack nodded. “It’s one thing you learn as a time agent. To catch sleep when you can, whenever you need to, and right now, I need to.”

Martha turned and stared at the monitor with Jack as she asked hopefully, “What if I used the device?”

The Torchwood leader considered that possibility. The monitor showed the Doctor’s condition was stable but dire. Martha might be able to handle the device, but he had been surprised by how hard it had been to extract the juvenile. The creature in the Doctor would be much more difficult. His experience with the device would increase the odds and Martha would never forgive herself if something went wrong. It was better he do it. He had more experience dealing with guilt.

“No, I need you sharp for after the creature is out,” he answered, rejecting her offer. “The Doctor is going to need a lot of attention. You saw how much using the device took out of me. I don’t want to get that thing out of him and then lose him because our only medic is incapacitated.”

“But Jack…”

“No Martha, it would take me as long to teach you how to use it as I’m planning on sleeping. This way is better. Trust me.”

Martha appeared unconvinced, but nodded her acquiescence.

“Alright if that’s settled, I’m going to get some rest. Wake me if anything changes.” He left Martha in his office and headed for his bedroom stopping to pick up the device along the way.

Martha continued to stare at the monitor, assessing the Doctor’s condition, as she sat down at Jack's desk. His wrist was definitely broken. According to the readout on the monitor, he was dehydrated and there was damage to several organs. She was going to need splints and casting material. Saline solution, IV kit, oxygen mask might all be needed also, and perhaps a respirator. Martha was forming up the list when there was a knock on the office door. She looked up and saw it was Gwen.

“The medical transport is almost here,” Gwen explained. “We could use your help getting him to the entrance. We can’t allow strangers in the infirmary unless we use retcon.”

Martha nodded and stood up, unnecessarily wiping her hands on her lab coat, trying to cover her feeling of guilt over having forgotten about her previous patient. “How is the ambassador doing?” she asked as she made her way to the door.

“He seems the same,” Gwen replied. “His heart rate slowed when Ianto gave him the retcon, but that’s normal and his oxygen saturation stayed the same.”

Martha was about to question why Ianto had done that and stopped herself. She knew why. Jack had ordered it and of course he would. “I should have known,” she thought shaking her head. “For someone who claims to be a rebel, Jack follows security protocols with a zeal to be envied.”

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked, her hand gently touching Martha’s arm.

Martha saw Gwen’s sincere concern in her clear hazel eyes. “I’m fine, just a random thought. Let’s get the patient out to the reception.”


While the rest of the team worked on getting the ambassador to the reception. Jack slept, fully clothed, his hand on the device that was the Doctor’s only hope of survival. As he had drifted off to sleep, his desperation caused him to say a silent prayer to any gods that might be listening, though there were none he believed in, for assistance in the task he that lay ahead of him.

fantastic as always! captivating.


great job, and thanks for the installment!

konstantin wrote:fantastic as always! captivating.


great job, and thanks for the installment!

Thank you! It should be a slightly better read now. I had put up the wrong version.

I just realised that there has been a new upload. What a lovely Christmas treat.

Aspadistra wrote:I just realised that there has been a new upload. What a lovely Christmas treat.

Thank you glad you enjoyed it. Next one up now.

Jack wiped the crud out of his eyes. Four hours of sleep was all that he planned to take and four was what he got. He bent over to pick up the energy extractor and was about to leave his room when he heard footsteps ringing on the stairway outside. He quickly opened the door and saw Gwen descending the staircase. She looked concerned, but not panicked. That at least was a good sign. She stopped halfway down when he stepped into the stairwell.

“I was just checking to see how you were. Martha’s getting anxious,” she explained.

“Has the Doctor had a change in his condition?” asked Jack as he started up the stairs, taking them two at a time with practiced ease.

“No,” Gwen moved to one side allowing Jack lead the way as she continued, “nothing beyond the usual pattern. He’s getting weaker, but it hasn’t accelerated. Martha was running some figures and she believes we don’t have much of a safety margin left. If you need it, she does have that stimulant for you.”

“I don’t,” Jack replied as he entered the control area and looked around. “Did the ambassador get moved?”

“Yes, he was transferred…”

“Good. Then where’s Martha?”

“She’s in the cell block.”

“What’s she doing there?” Jack asked, not really expecting a reply. He was already at the cell block door and he knew he would soon find out for himself.

Upon entering the corridor he stopped. It was far brighter than usual and also colder. Not uncomfortably so but definitely cooler than the main control room. Martha was outside Doctor’s cell along with a cart filled with medical supplies. Or at least to Jack they looked like medical supplies, clear tubes of varying diameters, on top of medium blue equipment, white boxes and packets with black and red lettering, and brown plastic bottles. The dead giveaway however, was the hospital gurney complete with IV stand that already had a liter bolus hanging from it. The presence of the supplies also helped explain the acrid odor of bleach and disinfectant, and the unusually clean state of the floor and walls.

In sharp contrast to the modern medical equipment, there was a narrow worn wooden table across from the Doctor’s cell door. Ianto was in the process of positioning a chair next to it. A worm of guilt entered his thoughts. His people had indeed been busy while he slept.

Martha looked up when he approached. “Sorry, to get you up,” she apologized. “I didn’t think we could wait any longer.”

“Don’t worry, I was already up,” Jack assured her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing specific, he hasn’t moved since you last saw him, but his vital signs are getting weaker. I don’t think we should wait any longer, especially after what happened with the ambassador. We’ve set up everything we can think of. I saw you were having some problems holding the machine and operating it at the same time, so we brought in a table and chair. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jack nodded his approval. “That’s fine. Let’s get started then, shall we?” He set the device on the work table and stepped over to the entrance of the cell putting his hand up to disarm it. A voice stopped him.

“Is that wise sir?” asked Ianto.

“I don’t want to accidentally torch the corridor. You have a problem with that?” Jack countered, still unsure of Ianto’s feeling towards the Doctor, how much jealously might cloud his judgment. He rested his hand on the switch, refusing to remove it until he was given cause, while examining his aide for any sign of deception.

“It’s just…” there was a hesitation as the Welshman tried to meet Jack’s harsh glare but repeatedly failed. “It’s just… he was so adamant that we arm it. What if something goes wrong? If he starts to regenerate before we get that creature out. We can close the door quickly, but the arming takes ten seconds to be active.”

Jack shook his head as let his hand fall. It was his own judgment that was clouded, not Ianto’s. “Alright, I’ll leave it armed. You don’t you have any objection to my opening the door, do you?”

“No sir.” As if to prove his point, Ianto opened it wide. Jack could tell from his detached manner he was covering up the sting of Jack’s doubt.

“When was the last time you had any sleep?” Jack probed.

“I’m fine sir”

“No, you’re not.” Jack took him by the elbow and started guiding him to the exit of the cell block. “I want you to get some sleep. And one less person here, is one less distraction I have to worry about.”

“But sir,” the Welshman protested. “You might need me to help move him after it’s over.”

“If we do, we’ll call you. I’m not sending you home. Stay close but get some sleep. Use my room if you want.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” He watched Ianto leave as he sat down in the chair. That problem tabled for the moment it was time to concentrate on the main issue. Studying the scene in the cell his mouth became dry as his concern increased. There was some blood on the floor, but not enough to explain how pale the Time Lord was. His face was turned towards the door, eyes open, but apparently unseeing. Freckles stood out, even at this distance, against his unnaturally white complexion. There was dark caked blood forming a trail from the corner of his mouth. There was additional blood trailing from his nose. His body was taut, back arched, with arms curled up to his chest, the left one swollen and purple. Jack closed his eyes to the scene, the pain his friend was in was obvious and he was about to cause him more, possibly risk his life. Though he was definitely the most experienced with the device, he also knew, he was a novice.

Gwen’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Are you alright Jack?”

Jack stretched himself up from the slouch he’d been unaware he’d assumed. “I’m fine, just give me a moment. I’m only going to get one shot at this.”

“We may not have a moment,” Martha interrupted. “The ambassador died shortly after arriving at the hospital, they said it was as if the will to live just left him. The Doctor is in worse shape than he was.”

The captain turned his head sharply towards his subordinate and the medic. “The ambassador died? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

“We didn’t want to disturb you,” Gwen replied. “It’s not like we have a choice. We still have to do the procedure on him. Unless you have another idea?”
The captain looked down at the device and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“So then rather than wake you, we felt it would be better if we concentrated on getting prepared to take care of the Doctor.” She gestured to the medical equipment and supplies gurney.

Jack nodded. “Oka,y you did the right thing. Just stand back now and whatever you do, don’t interrupt me.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand though his hair before running it over the surface of the device and turned it on.

It was warmer than he remembered or maybe he just didn’t notice the temperature before. The display at least was reassuringly familiar, but what was on it was disturbing. The energies were no longer evenly matched. The green was predominant, overwhelming the yellow, which appeared to be smaller and less bright than before. Jack hoped that was just an illusion, a trick of the lighting. There was a soft moan from the cell, the Doctor was already starting to react to the scan.

Silently asking the Doctor for forgiveness, Jack started to peel away one of the green tentacles from the yellow. He could hear the thumping and thudding as the Doctor thrashed in the cell. The moans becoming inarticulate cries. Closing his mind off from the sounds Jack concentrated on the screen in front of him. He trapped the first tentacle only to see two new ones start to grow in its place. He had to work faster than he had with the ambassador, or else it would be a race of who was going to give out first, him or the creature.



Breathe, just keep breathing, keep the hearts beating and hang on to the creature, nothing else matters. The Doctor was concentrating on that thought and only that thought. He had to keep his body alive. It was an anchor for his life force and his life force in turn anchored the creature. His staying alive prevented it from transferring to another victim or worse, using his regeneration energy to transform itself.

He could feel the creature battering at his concentration, trying desperately to break it. It had gotten in once, attacking that part of him that made him a Time Lord and used one of his greatest strengths against him. He’d managed after a time to shield against that attack, or more properly ignore what his warped time sense was telling him. Cutting himself off from the sensation of knowing when and where he was, because it didn’t matter. The creature was with him, unable to harm anyone else while it was. That was what was important.

Then that buzzing vibration returned, causing him to be aware of the pain that tortured his body as his concentration slipped. He tried to block the vibration out but it was insistent, refusing to be ignored.

Soon the vibration changed and became more intense. He felt the creature within him struggling fiercely. Why he couldn’t tell. He could feel a small part of it detach. Escape? No it was also increasing its hold on him, hurting him more. His body was trying to escape the pain to no avail. He doubled over from the sharp pain in his gut. Only to have that pain stay with him, while his back felt like it had been stabbed with a molten blade, causing him to arch away from the searing hot torment.

He was in agony as he tried to reason out what was going on. Was it was splitting. Preparing to plant a seed in someone else, like it had in him? He had to stop it, distract it. He pulled energy from his pain racked body and went on the attack. Trying to get inside the creature, take it over, knowing he wouldn’t succeed, but at least he could stop it from whatever it was planning.

No, wrong, wrong. Suddenly he felt horribly wrong. There was something… something he was forgetting. He could feel that his body’s movements had changed, it was… convulsing… reacting to something new, his arms were flailing, desperate movement with no purpose, no strength, gravity pulling them back down as exhausted muscles abandoned each movement before its completion, then instinctive desperation moved them again. He felt… he felt… breathless. That was it, breathless. No… no… he’d… quit breathing.

That was it, when he had tried to attack, he’d over-reached himself and the creature had launched a new attack of its own. He could almost feel the regeneration energy starting. He ceased his assault, paid no attention to the pain, deserted his senses and just concentrated on taking a breath, a single expansion of the lungs to draw in the air and then let them collapse to force it out. One breath taken, now another, he was getting back control. His hearts were racing too fast, whether from the lack of oxygen they had suffered or the creature attacking them he didn’t know, but he had to get them under control, they were losing rhythm, starting to fail. He concentrated on syncing them with his breath, ten beats on the inhale, ten on the exhale. It was an effort to concentrate on forcing the rhythm onto his unwilling hearts. It was so hard to do. He felt the siren song of surrender. He could just stop. Let what happens, happen. He’d been at it too long. It was time for someone else to be the hero.

He pushed that seductive thought aside as more oxygen entered his system and a small modicum of strength returned renewing his will to fight on. He had to keep breathing, he had to stay alive and hope that there would be a rescue before it was too late. With a final thrust he pushed all sensation from the buzzing aside, and concentrated on one thing, staying alive.



Jack was vaguely aware that the Doctor’s cell had become quiet, there was just the rasping sound of his breathing, what that meant he didn’t have time to consider. The creature was putting up an effective resistance to the extraction and he was making no headway. His speed was such that the creature was only able to get one new tendril out for each one he trapped, so at least he was no longer losing ground, but he had no idea how long he could keep this up. In desperation he tried a new tactic, trapping two at once. They had to require similar movements but finding two wrapped in the same direction was possible. He spread his middle and index fingers on his right hand, manipulating a tendril under each one and tested the method. It worked. At last, he had an advantage.

He was working quickly and with confidence now. He knew he could defeat the creature. It was just a matter of time. Time he hoped the Doctor still had.

Yay! Fantastic instalment!

Really, really engaging.


Thanks!

konstantin wrote:Yay! Fantastic instalment!

Really, really engaging.


Thanks!

Thank you I'm happy you're enjoying it.

Paksena wrote:

konstantin wrote:Yay! Fantastic instalment!

Really, really engaging.


Thanks!

Thank you I'm happy you're enjoying it.

Its really gripping - thank you

Jennyjenkins wrote:

Paksena wrote:

konstantin wrote:Yay! Fantastic instalment!

Really, really engaging.


Thanks!

Thank you I'm happy you're enjoying it.

Its really gripping - thank you

Thank you I'm glad you are enjoying it.

Shoulders cramped and searing with pain, eyes dry and blurry, sweat dripping down his back, Jack continued to work with the machine which was becoming uncomfortably hot under his hands. There were so many tentacles now, he was having to trap them under the heel of his left hand.

Sometimes when he peeled off a green tentacle, a yellow one would reach out and attach itself to the green one that was just trapped. The first time it happened Jack panicked. He tried to pull it away and trap it under a separate finger. An awkward move, that caused even more tentacles to reach out and attach themselves, making matters worse. He realized he was left with a choice of releasing the green energy he had trapped completely, starting again from square one, or leaving it be and hoping he could figure out what to do later. He chose to continue and hope an answer to the new dilemma would present itself in time.

Curiosity born of worry got the better of him after a few more successes with the green energy and he gently nudged a yellow tendril and watched it fall off, rejoining the main body of the Doctor’s life force. He tried it with the rest, the same result. Though it was definitely a success, Jack took it as a bad sign. The Doctor must be losing his strength, his will to continue.

Now the job was nearing its end, and not a moment too soon. A power alert displayed in the top right corner of the screen, at least it was amber, not mauve, so he still had time, but he didn’t know how much.

He was untangling the next to last pair, when he saw multiple tendrils of the yellow energy, the Doctor’s energy, reaching out and attaching to the green. Then to his horror, he saw the yellow energy seem to start to lift itself towards the majority of the trapped green energy, as if it was trying to invade it, become a part of it. If he destroyed the creature now, he would destroy the Doctor, leaving his body an empty husk.

“Martha! Go to the Doctor! Talk to him!” Jack barked.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” asked Martha, startled at the urgency of the first words she’d heard from Jack in over five hours. Despite her surprise, she rushed into the cell, white coat flying behind her as Jack shouted.

“He’s trying to merge with the creature. Convince him to let go. Otherwise we’re going to lose him.”

Martha knelt down next to the Doctor. Jack held his breath as the power indicator turned mauve.



Breathing was becoming easier for the Doctor. No longer did he need to constantly think about that normally autonomic function and force each breath to happen. His rib cage and diaphragm would expand and contract on their own. His hearts were beating, though weakly without his constant direction. He could detect a bit of light and shadow, vague shapes but nothing meaningful; he closed his eyes so he could concentrate on the other sensations. His mouth was dry with a vile taste of iron and copper, it was blood, his blood. There was the smell of sweat confirmed by the taut and sticky feel of his skin. Muscles tight and cramped, he forced them to relax. A hoarse gasp emerged from his sore and raw throat, simultaneous with the dull thud of his broken wrist dropping to the floor.

There was pain, but it was not the over-exaggerated impossible pain that the creature laid on his very nerves, but the pain of real injuries to his body. The stinging pain of the scrapes and cuts, the dull pain from pressure points too long on the concrete, the sharp pain of the broken bones that made him want to stay very still, the sick uncomfortable pressure of damaged organs that made him want to move to find a comfortable position when there was none, the burning pain caused by the toxins in his blood from that damage.

It was, in an odd way, a relief to feel actual physical pain after the false horrors he’d been subjected to. With hesitation he checked his time sense, it was no longer being played with. Again he could feel the flow of time around him.

This however might not be a good sign. Why would the creature give up its control? It had the advantage, he’d been losing. He knew it. Why did it give up when it was winning? It was slipping away from him. There was hardly any contact left. Panic rose in him as he sensed Jack nearby, that wrongness of something that could not be. “That must be it,” he thought. The creature was leaving him to go to Jack. It was getting away, about to take over his friend with his endless lives.

While he had the chance and energy, the Doctor turned off the mechanism to regenerate. What he was about to do was a move born of desperation. If he was wrong or failed, he didn’t want the creature to have that resource. Then desperately he reached out with his energy to grip the creature. Pull himself inside of it, and found his living body was still anchoring him. That tether was failing however, if he kept pulling, he could break free, go with the creature. Unencumbered by the weakness of his body, he might be able to control it, prevent it from taking over Jack. And that was a further advantage, Jack would help, the two of them together, they could defeat it. End its threat. He dared to feel triumphant, knowing he finally had a plan to stop the creature that would work. A plan of action, not just holding on and hoping.

A voice he could barely hear was speaking to him, distracting him. He couldn’t afford to listen to it, he had to keep fighting to stay with the creature, not let it escape him. The voice however was insistent, getting louder. The words were slowly becoming coherent. They were seductive, telling him it was safe. He could let go. The creature would be destroyed when he did. It was what he desired most, which is why he couldn’t trust it. It could be a ruse, the creature making him think he was hearing what he craved to hear. That it was finally over, they had won. He ignored the reassuring words and fought to maintain his hold.

Then there was a single phrase. Words he knew had to be real. He let go his grip on the creature and allowed his energy to sink back into his body. His diaphragm spasmed forcing air sharply from his lungs, then before he had a chance to recover another spasm occurred. Soon it developed a rapid rhythm as he found himself chuckling at the words, “You can’t go now, who will keep Jack out of trouble.” The creature had no sense of humor that he’d observed. The words were genuine. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to see a very blurry Martha staring at him, grinning ear to ear. He returned a small smile as he said, “Well, I certainly can’t let that happen, now can I?”

“No, you can’t. Welcome back,” Martha answered her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “Now, hang on it’s not quite over yet.”

Suddenly it felt like the welcome might have been premature. He screamed as his spine caught fire and was being pulled out of him. He panicked as he had no control over his body again. It wasn’t Martha it was a deception, the creature had won, he couldn’t stop it now. Then the impossible pain was gone, reality was back as he heard a whoop of triumph from Jack.

“Sorry,” Martha was saying. “It’s really gone now. It’s over. You’re safe.”

“Good,” was the Doctor’s soft reply as he closed his eyes overcome by weariness and fatigue. All the physical sensations he’d been experiencing were leaving him, being replaced by numbness and lethargy. His breathing was shallow and slow. Too little to sustain him. He was feeling nothing, as if he was floating, so tired.

Martha was yelling at him, telling him to stay awake, but he had no strength or even desire to respond. Vaguely he was aware he was no longer the one she was addressing. Her tone was more urgent. Something about a cart, shock, crashing. He didn’t care as he slipped off into nothingness.

great installment!!!! wow...


...thanks!

(awaits future updates)

(a really wonderful story)

konstantin wrote:great installment!!!! wow...


...thanks!

(awaits future updates)

(a really wonderful story)

Hi again. Thank you The next one should be up soon.

Excellent.

Aspadistra wrote:Excellent.

Thank you.

Martha barely heard what the Doctor said before his eyes closed. “No, Doctor, don’t go to sleep now,” she urged. “I need you stay awake.” There was no response, not even an eye flutter. She reached for his wrist as she continued to talk to him volume and urgency increasing. “Come on Doctor! Don’t do this to me!” She felt for his artery and found it. She didn’t need to look at her watch to tell his pulse was too fast. The skin beneath her fingers was damp, clammy. His chest was barely moving.

“I need that cart in here, now!” Martha yelled, her eyes never leaving her patient. ”I think he’s crashing, going into shock, or what counts as shock for him.”

She heard Jack’s rapid footsteps followed by the clatter of the cart. She gently lowered the Doctor’s wrist, leaving it to rest on his chest. “I need the green tank, and the package next to it,” she called out over her shoulder. Jack set the tank next to her and handed her the package. She tore open it revealing a mask complete with tubing. She jammed one end of the tubing over the ridged nozzle on the oxygen tank, turning the valve, resulting in the tank giving a satisfying hiss. She then deftly put the mask over the Doctor’s nose and mouth.

“Now I need the backboard from the hallway, a cervical…uh a neck brace,” Martha corrected herself, using language that Jack would be more likely to understand, “and one of the arm air braces in the cart.

“You think he fractured his spine?” asked Jack as he started rummaging through the cart.

“No, but I’m not sure what injuries he has, so I’m taking every precaution.” Martha explained as she continued to examine her patient. His breathing was a little better with the oxygen, but still too shallow and his color hadn’t improved as she had hoped. She fought to keep a tight rein on her emotions, she needed to concentrate on what she must do for him. Not on how she felt for him.

Jack handed her the air brace, the packet gave off the sharp odor of new plastic, like a child’s beach ball when she tore it open. There was a ripping noise as she opened up the center of it, unsticking the plastic from itself, creating a tube. Since this was just a temporary measure, she slid it on over the Time Lord’s coat sleeve and quickly inflated it. His one obvious break was now immobilized for transport.

Gwen was holding the backboard awaiting instructions and Jack now had the cervical collar in his hand. Martha reached for the collar first. The device was cold smooth white plastic on the outside and padded on the inside. She slid it carefully around the Doctor’s neck and adjusted it to fit.

The backboard was next. She moved to the other side of the Doctor and gently rolled him towards her onto his right side while holding his broken arm carefully, ensuring there was no unnecessary movement of the injured limb. “Position the edge of the board right up against him,” she instructed as she took advantage of the Time Lord’s position to adjust the oxygen mask so it was more secure.

Gwen and Jack did as they were told and Martha rolled the Doctor back onto the board. Soon the straps were done up, the head bumpers secured and the oxygen tank lay between his knees, ready for transport. The Doctor had shown no sign of awareness during the entire procedure. Not even a groan or change in breathing. The only difference was that he was now shivering. She was losing this battle.

“Is the gurney ready?” Martha asked as she sat back on her heels and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face with the back of her wrist.

“I think so,” Gwen replied. “I moved it to the middle of the corridor, locked the wheels and put down the sides. Is there anything else that needs doing?”

Martha rewarded her with a brief smile. “No, you did everything right, let’s get him on it.”

Jack took the head of the backboard as he gestured with his chin for Gwen to take the corner at the foot across from Martha.

“On a count of three,” instructed Martha, “one, two, three.” The Unit doctor and the Torchwood agents lifted the Time Lord with ease and maneuvered him to waiting the gurney. Once he was on, Martha quickly covered him with a blanket shaking her head at his condition.

“I need a bolus of ringer’s lactate and an IV kit,” she called.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Jack asked as he went back to the cart.

“Trust me Jack, I know what I’m doing,” came her tart reply as she pushed up the Doctor’s sleeve and deftly applied a tourniquet to his right forearm. “I’ve read up on all the tests UNIT ran on him when they had him in their care. They pulled quite a lot of his blood and some was even preserved. His blood is slightly more saline than ours, but ringers will work quite well.”

With a single finger, she lightly traced the veins on the back of his hand trying to determine a good injection site, impatient as the veins responded slowly. But finally a likely candidate appeared, bulging above the surrounding skin. She was tempted to use a pediatric needle but opted for a 16 gauge instead. He was extremely dehydrated and his internal organs were in peril. She wanted fluids in him as quickly as possible. The needle did its work and slid in easily. She removed it, leaving the more flexible and less painful cannula behind. Once the tubing from the bolus was attached she took off the tourniquet and adjusted the plastic clamp to start the flow.

“Hang that up,” she instructed Jack, handing him the bolus. “I want to make sure that vein holds.”

Jack did as instructed and hung the bolus from the IV stand attached to the gurney. “Is he going to be alright?” he asked.

“Too soon to tell,” replied Martha, keeping her eyes on the IV site. There was no backflow or swelling. The vein appeared to holding. Letting out a long slow breath, she proceeded to tape the cannula and tubing in place as she continued, “I’m going to take it as a good sign that I didn’t need to resuscitate him. Hopefully that remains the case.” Assured that Doctor was now receiving the fluids he needed she turned on Jack.

“Now where’s the TARDIS?” she demanded. “He needs to be there, not here.”

“The TARDIS is out of play for the moment,” explained Jack keeping his voice deliberately calm. “She threw him out when he first arrived and hasn’t let anyone near her since.”

“What? That’s ridiculous! Tell me where she is. She’ll let me in.”

“Martha, when I said she’s not letting anyone in, I meant it. I tried. In fact when I managed to get near her, she killed me.”

“She what?!” cried Martha her tone and wide eyed expression filled with disbelief.

“She killed me, and since I’m the only one of us who can recover from that, I’m not letting anyone else try, including you. So let’s get him to the infirmary and you can continue your treatment there.”

Martha’s shoulders slumped as she nodded her understanding. “I wish you had installed a lift into that room,” she complained. “It’s ridiculous that we have to transport patients up and down those stairs.”

“It was meant more for specimens than patients,” explained Jack as he started pushing the gurney out of the cell block. The clank and clatter of the thing as it hit each seam of the floor providing an odd back drop to the discussion. “We’ve just let it double as an infirmary since I started living here. Technically I’m supposed to transfer all human patients to the local hospital or UNIT.”

“And do you do that?”

“We avoid it as much as possible. Security. If one person turns up at an A&E ranting specifics about here it’s not a problem. A continuous stream however… We try to Retcon but there is always a chance we miss some passing orderly or cleaning person.”

As they left the cell block with the Doctor they found Ianto waiting for them, holding what appeared to be handles attached to nothing. “I thought I told you to get some rest,” snapped Jack.

“I did get a little, but then when I heard you moving him to the gurney, I thought you might be able to use these,” Ianto explained hurt from the rebuke apparent in his voice.

Jack sighed. He should have realized his aide would be monitoring what was going on. “Alright, so what are these things?”

“They’re from Torchwood One. A kind of anti-gravity device. They reduce the weight of anything you attach them to.”

“You knew about these all along?” accused Gwen. “We could have used them at least when we had to get the ambassador up the stairs!”

“I’d forgotten about them,” Ianto started in his defense.

“Let’s not worry about that, now” Jack intervened. “Let’s just get them attached and working.”

The technology was one Jack apparently was vaguely familiar with and he attached them with relative ease. After that, the chore of getting the Doctor safely down into the infirmary was trivial. While the gurney didn’t quite float, it was more a matter of guiding it than any real lifting. Martha went on ahead to prepare the bed leaving the transport of the Doctor to Gwen and Jack.

The transfer to the bed in the infirmary went without incident. Martha sighed with relief when the scanner there showed that the Doctor’s spine was intact so the cervical collar and backboard could be removed. The other information it displayed was not so comforting. She looked down at his ashen face, covered with tiny beads of sweat, and dried blood the later indicative of internal bleeding which the scans confirmed. She picked up a bandage scissors, the instruments could only tell her so much.

“What are you intending to do with those?” Ianto asked.

“Cut his clothes off,” Martha answered.

“Here, let me.” Ianto held out his hand. “I’ve seen what Accident and Recovery does to clothing. I expect the Doctor would like to be able wear these again.”

“There’s no time. He can get another suit,” Martha argued.

“I can do it just as fast as you can. Just give me the scissors.” Ianto continued to hold out his hand.

Martha slowly shook her head in defeat, she had to admit the Doctor was proud of his clothes, despite the disheveled way he wore them. Reluctantly, she handed Ianto the disputed instrument. She had a spare she could use if his way proved too slow. There was a rapid popping sound as Ianto used the scissors to rip down the seams of the trousers, allowing them to be removed quickly with minimum movement of the patient. She had to admit it he was just as quick as she would have been.

“Alright, you’re fast,” Martha admitted. “If I take the air cast off, can you cut off the jacket and shirt, and not jar his arm?”

“Of course,” replied Ianto not looking up from his work.

Martha deflated the cast and carefully removed it, then relieved of the duty of unclothing the Doctor, she busied herself examining each newly exposed body part His legs were shades of yellow, purple and black, badly bruised from the hard floor of the cell and the fits he had experienced, there were also numerous abrasions and minor lacerations. The good news was that his reflexes were intact, though the response was weak.

“I can’t save this shirt, it’s flat seamed it will take too long,” Ianto explained, his voice edged with disappointment, “but I think I know where I can get him another just like it.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Jack assured him. “You’ve saved the suit after all. He should appreciate that. If he notices.”

Martha covered the Doctor’s legs with a sheet and looked up to see a totally deconstructed suit heaped on the counter as Ianto made quick work of the shirt. She wondered how that pile of rags could be turned back into anything worth wearing, much less a suit, before turning her attention back to her patient.

Ianto picked up the rags and turned to Jack. “If you don’t need me sir, I’d like to get to work repairing this,”

“No, you need to get some sleep first,” countered Jack. “Go home and come back when you have slept yourself out. The suit can wait.”

“But…”

“No buts, get some rest. Gwen, Martha and I can handle this, and…” Jack looked over at the Doctor. “He’s not going to be needing his suit for a while.”

“As you wish sir.” Ianto left the room still carrying the clothes and in a sullen mood. Jack watched him sadly. They had all been working too hard and they were too short staffed. If Ianto didn’t get some sleep now Gwen might not be able get her rest later. That Ianto didn’t realize that, showed how tired he was.

Martha hung several more boluses that fed into the IV line. Each line going through a machine that delivered those medications at a measured rate. She was frustrated. There really wasn’t much she could do but provide supportive care. She gathered the materials she needed to cast the Doctor’s broken arm.

“How’s he doing?” Jack asked. Martha looked down at her patient, the bruises stood out against the pale, almost translucent skin. She tried to keep her emotions under control as she swallowed hard and forced her medical detachment back to the fore.

“Jack, I’m not going to lie, he’s in a serious condition. He has extensive internal organ damage. What concerns me more than that though,” she glanced at a monitor, “is his brain function. It’s as if his brain had suffered an insult of some kind. If we have someone show up in A&E like this with a donor card…” She didn’t finish the sentence. “But, he’s breathing on his own, and that gives me hope. He’s getting rehydrated, and I’ve added glucose and a few other items to the drip to give him some energy and nutritional support. It’s going to be up to him now, unless we can get him into the TARDIS.” She looked at the captain meaningfully.

“Right I’ll get on that,” Jack replied, as he turned and ran up the stairs.

Martha watched him go. The TARDIS had to let them in now. It was the best and possibly the only chance the Doctor had.

“Do you need any help?” Gwen asked, a concerned but hopeful look on her face.

Martha nodded. Even just some companionship right now would be useful. And it was time to take care of the Doctor’s arm. It was still not set properly. “Actually I do, this arm’s displaced and once I put it back in alignment I could use your help to keep it straight. Are you up for that?”

“Yes certainly,” she answered with a quick nod. “I’ve had some training. Just tell me what to do.”

“Good,” Martha replied with a smile then turned her attention to the task at hand. The wrist itself was swollen and purple. The scan showed it was just a simple fracture, nothing that required plating. That was a relief. She considered if she should administer an analgesic while she set it. A quick glance and the monitors told her that would be unnecessary. At his current brain function levels she could crack his chest and he wouldn’t feel a thing. She went to work on reducing the break. It was a distal fracture of what would be the radius and ulna in a human. The broken ends found each other without difficulty and set in place. She very gently eased up on the tension to see if the arm would stay and let out a long sigh when it did.

“Is everything alright?” Gwen asked.

“Yes,” Martha replied, “for once something’s going our way. We should be able to cast this without too much trouble. Come over here and I’ll show you how need to hold it for me.”

Gwen was a quick study and with her help Martha was able to swiftly cast the Doctor’s arm. “We’ll most likely have to do this again in a few days,” she explained to Gwen as she removed her gloves.

Gwen furrowed her brows and looked at Martha quizzically. “Why?”

“It’s swollen now and once it starts to heal and the swelling goes down it’s not going to fit any more.”

“Ah, that makes sense. What do we do now?”

Martha scrutinized the Doctor. She had taken care of what major items that she could. He was covered in sweat and blood. It was time to take care of that. She looked around the room, and shrugged, a heating cabinet would have been too much to ask for. “Is there a dryer around?”

“A dryer?”

“Yes, I need some warmed blankets to get his temperature up. They can be warming in the dryer while we clean him up.”

“There is a small one. I don’t think it can hold more than one blanket.”

“That’s a start. Get this one going and when you get back, we’ll clean him up.” Martha handed Gwen a cotton blanket that she felt would hold up well to the heat of the dryer.

With Gwen on her errand Martha at last was alone and could let her professional demeanor drop. She stared at the Doctor, one hand on the bed rail feeling like ice under her hand. Her other hand covering her mouth as she shook her head and blinked away the tears. He looked like death. There was none of that spark, that spirit that she loved. Just a pale blank unmoving body. The monitors confirmed what she felt. She brushed his hair from his face, her fingers feeling the grease and particles of dirt that clumped the stands together. She grimaced as she made a mental note to get some dry shampoo in. She laid the back of her hand against his cheek. Cold, colder than even he should be.

Her throat was tight as she turned her attention to the IV line and the boluses attached to it. She told Jack she knew what she was doing. She hoped she hadn’t been lying to him. The cocktail she was giving was based on files she had seen at UNIT, constructed from knowledge of what the Doctor ate and tests that had been run on his blood. What she had, should provide some support and aid him in getting through his current crisis. She prayed desperately it wouldn’t hurt him. She wished she had someone to consult with, but in this, she was the only expert.

At the sound of the door at the top of the stairs opening, she pushed her fears and uncertainties aside, turned to the counter as she wiped away her tears, washed her hands and readied what she needed to continue treating the Doctor.

A couple of plastic basins thumped hollowly on the counter. They were joined by stacks of disposable wash clothes, plastic backed pads, a mild disinfectant soap, and an antibiotic ointment. She filled one of the basins with warm, almost hot water.

“Do you need anything?” asked Gwen coming up behind her.

“That table over there.” Martha indicated a small metal table on wheels normally used for surgical instruments.

Gwen brought it over and without being asked loaded it with the two basins and the rest of the supplies Martha had brought out. “So where do we start?” she asked. “Head or the feet?”
“Head,” replied Martha. “I know I’ll feel better once I get that blood off his face.”

The two women went to work. Using the plastic backed pads to prevent the bed from getting damp. Quickly they developed a system where Gwen would clean and Martha would treat the minor lacerations and abrasions the time in the cell had caused. Soon the job was over. The sheets were changed and Gwen left to get the heated blanket.

The fresh smell of soap lifted Martha’s spirits. The Doctor’s complexion even looked a little better. A quick look at the monitors however, told her that was an illusion, any change was purely cosmetic. The cleanup had been more for her morale than for his health. His body shuddered briefly almost dislodging the sheet that covered him. She smoothed the bed clothes, cool and smooth to the touch, back into place, wondering what the shudder meant. Was it something starting? Something ending? Something healing? Something failing? The monitors showed no change. Whatever it was they couldn’t measure or detect it.

She touched his arm and felt the hair standing more erect, the rough goose bumps on his skin as his body making a vain attempt to fluff fur that evolution had denied him. Gwen had taken the other blanket with her to put in the dryer. Her lab coat was at least warm from her own body heat. She took it off and laid it over him. Inadequate as a cover, but would have to do till Gwen returned.

She picked up a simple plastic comb and applied it to his hair. They might not be able to wash it but at least she could make it look neat. Again more for her benefit than his. The comb slid smoothly through his hair aided by the oils that had built up. After only a few strokes the comb was dirty. She took an alcohol wipe to clean it. That would dry faster than soap and water. Since the Doctor was cold she didn’t want his head wet. She continued in the same way for a few minutes. Then heard footsteps on the stairs. Gwen with the warmed blanket.

“He does looked better now,” Gwen commented as she handed the blanket to Martha.

Martha looked down at the Doctor and laid the blanket on top of him. “Yes, he doesn’t look quite so bad now, and…” she paused as she smoothed the blanket wishing he could feel its soothing warmth as she did, “just having everything smell clean helps. With my morale at least.”

“Mine too,” responded Gwen with a smile and a bright promise of friendship in her eye. “I don’t know, for some reason now I think he might have a chance. I didn’t before.”

Martha studied the monitors which told her she had no right to the optimism she felt. She temporized however for the other woman’s sake. “He has a chance, a small one. I’d feel better if the ambassador had survived. Or we had access to the TARDIS.” She turned back to Gwen, puzzled. “Where is Jack anyway? Is the TARDIS that far away?”

“No it’s actually quite close. Parked at the water tower. It just takes a while to get to it.”

“The water tower? But I looked when I drove here, I always do, just in case.”

“Did you?” Gwen asked. “Are you sure?”

Martha was about to respond and stopped. She couldn’t remember actually looking for the TARDIS. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to remember what had distracted her from checking the Plass as she had driven by. “No, I’m not.” Concern was apparent in her voice.

Gwen put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s not you, it’s the TARDIS,” she explained softly. “It’s preventing people from noticing it and is somehow pushing people away. From what Jack has said you have to not think about getting to it to get to it.”

“I’m not sure I understand but I’ll take your word for it.”

“I didn’t really understand either, but it works for him apparently. Is there anything else we need to do?

“No the scrub up was the last step,” Martha replied with a smile. “Thank you for your help.”

“A scrub up?” came a voice from the top of the stairs. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I’d have helped. It would have beat waking up in that ambulance.”

“Jack! Can you just for once…” Martha shook her head and didn’t finish the question. She knew the answer. He couldn’t. He was what he was. Instead she asked the question she didn’t know the answer to. “Wait. Why did you wake up in an ambulance?”

“Concerned citizen apparently,” Jack explained as he descended the stairs. “The TARDIS threw me out of the perception filter zone. Someone called the rescue squad. They almost went off the road when I woke up on them. Then I had to pull my gun out to get them to let me go.” His voice turned serious when he was next to the Doctor’s bed. “I’m sorry Martha, the TARDIS is still out of the question. How’s he doing?”

“We’re having to use warmed blankets on him,” Martha explained as her hopes for a speedy recovery for her patient in the TARDIS sank. “He doesn’t appear to be regulating his temperature properly.” She slid her hand under the blanket and felt his arm. The hair was flat, the goose bumps gone. “The blanket seems to be working. Any chance we can get a warming cabinet in here.”

“I’ll check on that. What else is going on with him?”

“Nothing Jack, Literally nothing. His life signs are perfectly stable. He’s not getting worse but he’s not healing either. All we can do is watch, keep him on the oxygen and fluids, keep him warm. I don’t know what else to do. It’s up to him.”

Jack stared at the Doctor, Martha could tell he was wondering the same thing she was. Was the Doctor coming back? Or was this immobile body the last they would see of him.

“Martha,” he said quietly. “I need you to get some sleep. I’ll take over for now. We’ll get you a room nearby.”

“Jack, no, I need to stay here. What if he has a pulmonary crisis and he needs to be intubated? You can’t handle that. Besides you must be more tired than I am. It’s you who should get some sleep.”

“I must be the only boss who has a problem getting his people to take a break,” the captain complained with a sigh. “I’m fine, side effect of being dead, I don’t come back tired. So, since you won’t go to a hotel, how about we set up a cot in this room for you. I’m sure alarms will sound and wake you if he gets worse. Will that work for you?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” she replied knowing there was no way she could sleep, but just lying down could help and would stop Jack from worrying about her.

“Good, we’ll set that up. Anything else you need?”

Martha smiled and said through a yawn, “I could use another warm blanket for him.”

“I’ll go get it,” offered Gwen and she ran up the stairs.

Soon the Doctor was under a fresh blanket, and a military cot was set up at one end of the room, complete with rough wool blankets and an almost flat pillow. Jack had shrugged when Martha examined them. “What can I say, I kept them from my RAF days,” he apologized.

“I’m surprised they survived.” Martha rejoined with a wry smile. “They’ll be okay. Reminds me a bit of my training in UNIT.”

The captain returned her smile. “So time for you to rest?” It was phrased as a friendly question but Martha knew it was an order.

“I just have to check the IV and the oxygen tank. Then, I promise, I’ll take a break.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then,” Jack’s eyes fell on the Doctor, his hand started to move towards the bed but stopped. Instead, he turned away and started up the stairs, Gwen following him.

A couple of the boluses were running low and needed to be swapped out. Martha took care of that, then checked the oxygen which needed no adjustments. She did one final check of the monitors which disappointingly showed no change, and then there was nothing left to do. The lights dimmed, Martha sat on the cot and took off her shoes before lying down on her side so she could watch the Doctor. She let her eyes close. For just a few seconds she told herself. But physical and emotional exhaustion had its way and sleep took her.

Thank you for another fantastic installment. Really great work! thanks!

konstantin wrote:Thank you for another fantastic installment. Really great work! thanks!

Thank you for your encouraging comments. Love the automatons.

Another great episode

Thank you