Introduction: Ok, this is 'Just One Last Trip', my latest Doctor Who story. It won't be too long, but I hope it's quite enjoyable. It is a Torchwood/Doctor Who crossover, so it might help if you know a little about Torchwood and Doctor Who. Note that this is a reunion fic! Beware!
Pairings: More or less canon Torchwood, and obviously Doctor/Rose.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or any of the characters in this story. All are owned by the BBC. All that is mine is the storyline and the title.
Rating: K+
Set: Somewhere between the end of Series 3 Doctor Who and the second episode of Series 2 Torchwood.
Summary: Martha cannot refuse one last trip, but just how long will the trip last? When she unearths a dark secret, the Doctor is given new hope of finding someone he'd lost forever, but what lengths will he go to, to get her back?
Chapter 1: I Think We'll Need An Expert
A sharp ringing in his ears brought the man gasping back to life with a grunt. He scrabbled about wildly in the black chair, and Martha was suddenly relieved that he had decided to add a safety belt to the contraption at the last minute.
"What happened?" he panted. His arms were flailing out violently, and his whole torso was shaking. He let out a frustrated groan as he opened his eyes.
"I was almost there!" he spat.
He glanced around subconsciously at the grim, dark room, until he found Martha's silhouette, lit dimly from the slightly ajar door. She was walking slowly, backwards, away from him and the machine, as if afraid, and as the hanging light bulb illuminated her face, the Doctor saw a solitary tear fall down her cheek. She was covering her mouth with her hands and looked scared of what she had just witnessed. He looked questioningly into the girl's eyes with distress.
"What did you do?" he asked her sorrowfully, but she didn't answer immediately.
"I-I'm sorry…" she whispered apologetically. "It-It had been hours." She paused, and he sighed. "Look at yourself..." she pleaded softly, lowering her hands and willing the Doctor to see sense. "Every time; it's always the same. Just... let it go. I-It's not working. Let her go..."
The Doctor sighed and looked as if he was about to yell, but then he glanced down. His arms were bruised and cut in places and his clothes were partially ripped. He was sweating heavily and he could feel blood dripping steadily off his chin and onto his shirt. Looking back up at his companion, he gave her an apologetic stare.
"I – I'm sorry." He said quietly, undoing the safety belt on the uncomfortable old, leather chair. "I shouldn't have... you shouldn't have seen me like..." he trailed off as he pulled off sensors and wires from his body.
"No, it's... not your fault." Martha reassured him after a pause. "I... started this. It's my fault."
The Doctor stood up fully now that he was not connected to the chair, and looked past Martha to the metal door.
"No. Don't say that." he whispered, the sounds echoing round the room.
"I agreed to help." Martha persisted.
"Yes... but I shouldn't have asked you to." He shook his head in frustration and walked the short distance to the door, with Martha just behind him. "This is my responsibility." He continued, walking down a long corridor filled with doors. He looked to his left and saw Martha staring at the floor as they walked. "I shouldn't have brought you into it." At these words, Martha looked up and stared at the man.
"What? No, I don't mind! I'm glad you told me!" she protested quickly, having to jog to keep up with him after he took a sharp left turn at the end of the passageway. "I mean, it's pretty scary, seeing you like that, but... we're in this together."
The Doctor stopped suddenly outside a door and Martha stumbled, letting the Doctor catch her arm to steady herself.
"No. This has nothing to do with you. It's my burden, and I shouldn't have involved you. It's too dangerous."
The Doctor went to enter the room, but Martha reached out and grabbed the handle.
"Too dangerous?" she repeated with raised eyebrows.
"I – I didn't mean –" the Doctor began to defend himself, with a sigh, but Martha cut in.
"Who was it that found out, single-handedly, about how to get to the other universe? Who helped you build that machine? Who has been travelling with you for the past year, Doctor? I don't need protecting!"
"I know; I didn't mean... I just meant that this is my problem. Not yours."
The woman looked at him stubbornly and let go of the door handle.
"I made it my problem when I found the book. I want to help."
The doctor didn't answer; instead he entered the room and shut the door, leaning on the other side of it. Martha sighed and walked away crossly.
She followed the corridor round until she reached the staircase. Walking down slowly, she paused, one floor down. She glanced to the end of the short hallway and saw a door, slightly ajar. A small sign hung lopsided from the handle, reading "The Doctor". Martha walked down the hall hesitantly, heading for the door at the end. She passed her own room, and peered into the Doctor's nervously. It looked similar to her own, but a lot more messy, and it had a slightly foreboding atmosphere. A low, agitated hum came from all around her; the TARDIS, telling her to leave it. She knew it was wrong, and yet she couldn't help herself.
"I know..." she muttered to the TARDIS, ignoring the humming and pushing open the door. Walking past the bed, she saw an open shoebox box on the floor. It was filled with photos and small, crumpled sheets of paper. She picked one photo up from the floor. It was a picture of the Doctor, with his arms around a blonde girl's waist; they were both laughing. Martha couldn't remember the last time she had seen the Doctor looking this happy; it was months ago, at least, with Jack. She turned the picture over; scrawled writing on the back read "The Doctor and Rose, London, 2012".
There must have been hundreds of pictures, some with a second, dark-skinned, black haired man who would stand at the side; sometimes a younger-looking Jack, to her astonishment, would be standing with them, usually pulling a face or grinning stupidly. Martha sat on the floor and looked through the pictures, smiling. There was a knock on the door and Martha jumped, dropping the picture she was holding and turning sharply to look at the door.
"Mind if I come in?" the Doctor muttered with a slight smile, and Martha stood up anxiously.
"I–I'm sorry –" she began, but the Doctor held up a hand to stop her.
"It doesn't matter." He walked over, shutting the door, and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry about before. It wasn't your fault. You were right to bring me back."
Martha was silent for a minute, and then she spoke quietly. "Did you find her?"
"No." the Doctor replied firmly. "I think we'll need an expert."
Martha laughed softly.
"So much for 'One last trip'." she muttered absent-mindedly, and headed for the door. "Coming?"
The Doctor glanced down at the open box of photos. "In a minute."
- - - - - - -
Martha looked up as the Doctor entered the console room. Bracing herself, she asked the question that had been torturing her mind ever since she had unplugged the mechanism.
"So, what actually happened?" Unable to contain her anticipation, she grinned and bounded over to the Doctor. He didn't answer for a moment.
"I... couldn't find her."
Martha's face fell. "Right." She hesitated, eager for more details.
The Doctor looked past her to the centre of the room, where the TARDIS controls lay silent and gloomy.
"I looked. I was in London. She just… wasn't there." He paused, and looked up at the ceiling, as if hoping to find the answer there, and Martha looked away with regret.
"Oh."
"But, it's not all bad." He started uneasily, heading over to the console.
"Oh?" Martha followed him over, hope appearing on her face.
"We're going to find Jack. He might be able to help." The Doctor began pressing buttons and pulling levers with enthusiasm.
"That's great, we can finally meet his team!"
"Yeah." the Doctor hesitated. "But I don't know for sure. Whether he can help, I mean."
"Anything's possible." Martha reassured him, though she instantly regretted giving him false hope. The Doctor didn't answer.
With a long-awaited droning sound, the floor began to vibrate loudly and Martha grabbed on to the control panel to steady herself as the TARDIS flew through the Vortex.
Ok, so there's Chapter 1! Good? Bad? Please tell me whether I should continue or not, whether I have any misspelt words, etc.