A/N: I'll review reply next chapter. THAT's the interesting one. :D


Chapter 9 - A Trip to Homebase

Four hours had passed since they'd touched down at the Loch.

Donna had been taken to the side as the Doctor had been taken at a dangerous speed down the corridor with Martha screaming instructions, but Donna didn't protest. It was becoming a little bit too much. She'd almost just witnessed a death. It wasn't like Lance, she hadn't seen him die, only known it. This time it had nearly been right in front of her eyes. She'd nearly seen her first corpse. By the time they'd got to the helipad he had been so swollen he had been unrecognisable.

So she got a bite to eat, had a walk around and then went to the visitor's lounge where a few other people were, before sitting down in an unoccupied corner and taking the first magazine she saw, which happened to be Heat. She flicked through it absently, the words on the pages blurring into one black inky mess. To think only a while ago she'd actually been interested in this sort of stuff.

"Mum, it's me. I'll be a little late cos Chris is in surgery, can you put Jo to bed?" someone suddenly said down a phone near her.

"Mum!" Donna cried out loud in realisation, scrabbling for her phone. She then realised her outburst had been somewhat loud and now she was being stared at. She gave an apologetic smile to the woman on the phone before resuming what she was doing. Fifteen missed calls, all from her mum.

Oh god.

She called the number. It rang four times, and she picked up. "Hello?"

"Mum, it's Donna."

"Donna!?" her mum screeched. "I've called about a hundred times!"

Fifteen.

"Well, here I am," was all Donna could think to say.

"Where are you? The Job Centre have been ringing!"

"I'm…" She foraged quickly in her head for something. "... Holiday."

"What?"

"Yeah, me and Jack, we're on holiday."

"Oh, nice for some. Where are you?"

Donna quickly looked around the room for any inspiration, and her eyes settled on a poster in the corner reminding her to get her jabs before heading to…

"... Mexico."

"Well they've taken away your dole now cos you haven't turned up for three meetings so don't expect any money when you get back!"

Donna rolled her eyes. The rebate letter obviously hadn't reached them yet, but she most definitely had £10,000 extra in the bank. She could have bought that entire bookstore if she'd wanted. "It'll be fine," she fobbed off.

"Don't be so blase! Donna Noble, you need to learn how to start handling your finances! I-"

"Sorry mum, love you, gotta go!" she said quickly and hung up, cutting her mum off in mid-sentence.

That felt good.

She slipped the phone back in her pocket and then noticed everyone was staring at her again.

"What?" she asked seriously, just as Jack appeared in the doorway.

Donna stood up immediately. "Is he…"

"He's fine, he's stable," Jack told her, glanced at the crowd of onlookers, and gestured out the door. She followed into the empty corridor, shutting the door behind her.

"He's been stabilised and taken to the ICU," he told her. "I've convinced Martha to get some sleep and promised I'd do her paperwork, so…"

"I'll go sit with him," Donna completed, nodding. "Think I lost my book, though."

He grinned. Just a little. "Just talk. There's gonna be a lotta nurses in and out to keep an eye on him and he's been admitted as a normal Unit soldier, under the name Leo Young so nobody takes too much interest in him. We'd quite like it to stay that way so keep your chat… err…"

"Star Wars-free?" Donna suggested.

"Yeah," he said, before adding, "and please stop finishing my sentences."

"Well we are a couple," Donna jested. "I told mum we were on holiday in Mexico together."

He pulled a face. "You ain't gonna get a tan here."

"Oh, don't worry, I don't tan, I burn."

This time his grin stretched fully. "Go sit with him," he said, turning to leave.

"... Is he… normal?" Donna suddenly asked.

Jack turned back, confused. "What d'you mean?"

"He's not… looking like a balloon?"

He shook his head. "He's fine. Some rashes, but they'll clear up. He's got a few more tubes now and he's not breathing on his own, his hearts are beating quite slowly but he's still in a coma. He just looks asleep. He's good, honest."

She nodded. "Okay, sorry,"

"It's fine, we're feeling that too," he told her, and quickly ran off.


Two hours later Martha was up again despite Jack's best efforts. She was still doing her hair as she strode boldly down the corridor to the Doctor's room.

"So what story did we go with in the end?" she asked.

"He's Private Leo Young, involved in an automobile accident during training," Jack informed her.

"And where's the real Leo?"

"He's on temporary discharge to visit his family. He knows."

"Okay," she said as they reached the room and Jack opened the door. Immediately they stopped dead.

The entire room was adorned in flowers, grapes and Get Well Soon cards.

"Yeah, think the secret's out," Martha heard Jack muttered beside her.

The Doctor was still comatose. On his left was Donna, but on his right a man in a wheelchair with one leg, dressed in a patient's gown, holding the Doctor's hand carefully.

The man looked up on their entry. "Oh sorry ma'am, sir, I'll get out of your way," he said making to leave.

"Wait," Martha said quickly, stepping forward. "What's your name?"

"Private Harrison Long," the soldier informed her, saluting.

"Harrison, do you know who he is?"

"Yes ma'am. He's the Doctor."

"... How do you know?"

Harrison looked at her awkwardly. "I recognise him, ma'am."

"Did you tell the other patients?" she asked, gesturing to the get well soon sentiments.

"No, ma'am. We all know who he is."

"How?"

"With respect ma'am, you didn't do basic training, did you?"

"No," Martha admitted.

"Every recruit from every discipline studies case files so we know what to expect," he informed her. "One of them is always the Doctor. Every year the General used to do a speech about his experiences with the Doctor." He paused for a brief smile. "And he always insisted we called him the Brigadier."

Martha frowned. "But I never hear anyone talk about him."

"Of course we don't. If anyone found out about him…" He shrugged. "Well, recent events. He's the best kept secret in Unit. May I be dismissed?"

Martha's brain eventually caught up with the rest of her. "Of course, sorry," she said, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, making to leave, but suddenly stopped on the threshold. "... I'll pray for him, ma'am."

"Thank you," Martha replied as he left.

"Wow," Donna said in the silence that followed. "Wonder why they do that?"

"To put a face to the alien," Jack told her, dropping down into the opposite seat. "You've seen all the humans in that hospital. Terrified of him, just because of what he represents. It would be so easy to point and shoot aliens like a videogame but showing them the Doctor shows that not everyone is an enemy. They're not scary aliens, they're just like us, and need to be respected as we respect humans."

Donna smiled. "Poetic," she said.

"Sorry, won't happen again."

"I liked it," Donna admitted. "So what happens next?"

"We need to work out his brain surgery. I'll take him for some more scans," Martha told her. "But he should be starting to heal. Something's happened to him and I can't figure out what it is."

"What?" Donna asked blankly.

"Something made him crash in the helicopter. Any drugs they gave him were out of his system and he metabolised the tranquillisers by then. And it wasn't his head injuries. He's not infected, he's not got any illness. There's something else I'm missing. The scans before we left and after we arrived are massively different."

"In what way?" Jack asked.

"Before we left his internal systems looked fine, but now they're damaged. he can't even breathe on his own. I think it's getting worse."

Suddenly the room felt very cold as everyone took that in.

"Either way," Martha continued after a moment, "the damage in his head needs clearing, we just need a tool strong enough get through his skull."

There was a brief pause before Donna spoke. "... Have you tried Homebase?"


Ten hours later, Martha was stood in surgery in a full surgeon's garb though she was not going anywhere near the Doctor, complete with hat and mask as she stared at the surgeon holding a Black and Decker drill from Homebase above the Time Lord's exposed skull.

"Remember, go hard until you make some progress, then be careful," Martha said quietly. "Just as we planned."

The surgeon nodded. "Ready, ma'am."

"Do it."


Donna was watching the Doctor's TV again, lounged out on the sofa draped in a blanket. She had attempted to get some sleep after the Doctor had been whisked off for brain surgery but hadn't been able to get a single wink. Since then she'd been watching steady stream of early morning kid's programmes, hour after hour slipping by until suddenly the doors opened and the Doctor was rolled in.

She sat up immediately. "Martha?" she asked, quickly getting upright.

It wasn't Martha, it was Jack and a cluster of doctors and nurses. He shot her a smile and move to her, taking her aside as the doctors and nurses settled him back in.

"They've drained the haematoma and extracted the skulls fragments," he told her. "It's pretty much up to him now."

She nodded.

"How are you doing?" he wondered.

She shrugged. "Feeling kinda useless."

"You're with him, that's not useless," Jack insisted. "Your voice is helping and you're the first line of defence if anything happens."

She nodded again. "Yeah… Sorry."

"It's fine," Jack insisted. "And we've dropped the fake identity now. Everyone knows who he is anyway."

She couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "Okay," she said, and took her usual seat.

"Remember, anything, anything at all, even if you're not sure it's a thing, hit the button," Jack said, pointing at it at the head of the bed.

She nodded for a third time, and retook the Doctor's hand as Jack left. He now had a thick bandage around his head.

"Well, Jack says you've finally had what you needed and you'll get all better now so maybe soon my conversations won't be so one-sided anymore," she joked. "Anyway, called mum, said I was in Mexico, don't think she's had that rebate letter yet so she was stressing about money. She'll probably get it tomorrow. She opens my post anyway. Don't think I can take that phone call. I could just turn it off, I guess. All that stuff about roaming charges on Watchdog. … Oh God! Presents! I forgot I'd have to get presents… Where the hell do I buy Mexican fridge magnets in Scotland? I'll just get a sombrero somewhere. They'd have sombreros in Scotland, right? Or a poncho? Must have.

"So anyway, spent the last five hours watching TV. I haven't slept. Don't think anyone has. I'm pretty sure Jack hasn't, but… does he even to need it? I mean, I've never heard him say he's going to bed. He's always around. His hair's never messed up. Why does he always look perfect? His hair must be sculpted to stay that way. That or a lot of gel. You like hair gel, don't you? Do you have some kinda spacey hair gel? You know, atom perfect hair every time? What about your clothes? Do you wash them? Well, obviously you do, but have you got a washing machine and tumble dryer or d'you have one of those space machines which just go ping and it's all perfect? … Do they even exist?"

He suddenly spasmed. Donna frowned, leaning forward, and consequently nearly got smacked in the face by his arm suddenly jumping up into the air.

"Oi!" she yelped, backing off. Then he began to convulse.

"No, no, no, no!" Donna shouted, and hit the button. "Jack!" she called out the door. "Someone!"

Almost immediately several doctors arrived and descended on him. Donna backed off, her arms in the air.

"Donna!" it was Jack, skidding to a halt beside her.

"He's having another fit," she said quickly.

Jack swore, looking at the commotion. "Not now," he begged. "C'mon, Doctor. Not now."


Martha arrived two minutes later when the Doctor had been stabilised again, her hair in a mess.

"What happened?" she asked quickly.

"Seizure," one of the doctors replied. "He's been stabilised and we've increased the oxygen."

She nodded, already moving forward to examine him, but Jack quickly reached his arm out to stop her.

"Martha, go back to bed," he said, leading her out of the room to the corridor.

"Jack, I need to be here…" she stressed.

"You don't," Jack replied. "Bad judgements are made when you're tired, you owe it to him to get some sleep."

"But what if he crashes again?"

"Then we've got a team of highly trained doctors on the case," Jack supplied. "Go the hell to bed before I end up doping you."

Martha sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Jack could tell that wasn't because of the need to sleep, it was because she was trying to stop herself from crying. "I just keep thinking about the crash," she confessed.

"What about it?"

"All the safeties were off, Jack. He wasn't bound or anything. It's almost like he stepped into that escape pod wanting to…"

"No," Jack interrupted her smoothly. "He'd never do that. Besides, if he wanted to die he picked a bad place to crash. With you here he'll be fine."

She sighed, nodding. "I guess you're right. But…"

"No buts, go to bed," Jack ordered brusquely.

"No, it's not that. It's… he's so badly hurt. Internally he's just… his organs are just losing their function for no reason and these seizures... Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Jack paused before answering. "You mean the 'is he trying to regenerate' thinking?"

Martha nodded. "Maybe I should let him go. Maybe he's trying to regenerate. Maybe this coma is just part of the process of him…"

She trailed off.

"Hippocratic Oath, Doctor Jones," he reminded her.

"I know," she said, sighing. "This is… it's so hard."

"No one said it was easy," Jack replied. "Now turn off your beeper and go to bed."


The Doctor crashed three more times in the twelve hours Martha had slept.

Now she was back in the Doctor's room, and had been for about half an hour while Donna went to get some food. Now Donna was hovering in the doorway, just watching.

"Why are you so sick?" Martha whispered to him, holding his hand. "I can fix you, I promise, I just don't know what's wrong with you. I need to know what's making you so sick. If you're trying to regenerate… I'm sorry. But I'm not letting it happen."

Nothing but the sound of the machine giving him air replied in hisses.

Martha sighed and pulled the bedsheet a little more over him.

Donna stepped forward, her arms wrapped around herself. She gave Martha a weak smile. "He's he doing?" she asked.

"His brain's starting to go back to normal size again, his breaks are healing fast and a lot of his bruises are fading," Martha told her, still massaging the Doctor's limp hand. "I just…" She paused for a moment, breathing out. "... I don't know what's making him so ill. Why he won't wake up. Why he's suddenly bradycardic."

Donna paused to consider this, before taking a seat next to Martha. "Dunno, I'd offer to help but I stopped watching Casualty ages back. Ellen got hit by that motorbike then that was sorta it for me," she confessed.

Martha smiled. Just a little.

"All those scans you've done, there must be something," Donna reasoned.

"Nothing."

"Not even in his blood?"

"We've taken some, but we can't analyse it," Martha stressed. "It's too alien. We'd need a…"

She suddenly trailed off, her eyes widening.

"What?" Donna asked, sitting up.

"Oh God, I hope they kept it," was all Martha muttered, and then ran out the door.

Donna was about to follow, but one hiss of the ventilator quickly reminded her she had a better place to be. She sat down, took the Doctor's hand, and waited.


Martha flashed by Jack ten seconds later. He dived out behind her.

"Martha!" he called.

"Can't talk, running!" she shouted back as she disappeared around the corner.

Jack followed her, down the winding corridors until they reached the phlebotomy department. Martha went in and Jack quickly followed.

"Do we still have samples of the Doctor's blood?" Martha asked the group of startled people in there quickly.

"What? Oh, yes, ma'am," one quickly said, holding up the labelled tube in question.

"Get onto Unit in London," Martha instructed. "They should have a vial of his blood from just after he was admitted. Compare them, see if there's anything significantly different."

"Yes, ma'am," the man quickly replied, turning to his computer.

Martha left again, stopping outside the door.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"If they've still got his blood, and I bloody hope they have, then whatever's happened to him must be in it," Martha said, talking at a million miles per hour. "If there's a difference between the two samples then we know that something's definitely wrong with him and he's not just trying to regenerate, and we can start treating it."

Jack nodded, just as Martha's beeper went off.

"He's crashing again," Martha moaned, and started running.