A/N: Spoilers through Human Nature/Family of Blood.
Red lights flashed all around them, and the distant shrill ring of an alarm carried through the air.
"Martha, you've got to do it. It's the only way," gasped the Doctor.
"I can't leave you here," Martha pleaded.
"You have to."
"Why can't you do this with me?"
"Believe me, Martha, there's nothing in the universe I want more."
His sweaty face held a look of desperation. He tugged his left arm, still manacled to the wall with a glowing chain. Overcome by the effort, he sank to his knees.
"Listen to me. You've got to do exactly as I say. Pick up the glowing sphere over there," he said, pointing to a table. "Close your eyes and think of Rose. You've got to get to her. Tell her I found a way to get her back, but the Bad Wolf has to come too."
He closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. "I'm depending on you, Martha."
With that, he collapsed completely. Martha stood there, terrified. A sudden noise from the next room frightened her into action, and she picked up the globe, whispering, "I'll be back with help, Doctor."
Then, closing her eyes, she thought of all the things he'd said about Rose since she'd met him... Sometimes I have guests... it was recently, friend of mine. Rose, her name was, Rose, and we were together...With her family, happy. She's fine. Not that you're replacing her...Rose'd know. Friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing...
He'd even said he'd brought her to New Earth. Martha sighed. She'd been annoyed, just thinking he was on the rebound. But if he was doing all this just to get to her, it had to be more than that. All those times he'd get a far-away look in his eyes... Never mind that, though. This wasn't the time to be feeling guilty.
Finally, she focused on the pen and ink drawing of the mysterious Rose from John Smith's journal. Martha could feel a wind whipping round her, lifting her up. The next thing she knew, she came down hard. Opening her eyes, she saw a great swath of gray sky. Beneath her fingers was cold, gritty sand. She'd landed on a lonely-looking beach.