Heart of the Storm

by Sonny13

Hartley had made a living on impossible heroes and faraway places, she'd grown up daydreaming and wishing for the days when she could be living her adventures, instead of just writing about them. But when the chance to run far, far away from her boring old life is dropped in her lap, is it something she has the courage to do? And who exactly is The Heart? Eventual Doctor/OC

12. Empty Child & The Doctor Dances

The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances

"You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I've never

heard before, and a tune I've known my entire life."

Pavana पवन

---

Travelling with the Doctor was without a doubt the most brilliant, exciting thing Hartley was ever likely to experience. But even despite this, it could still be downright scary. Unexpectedly landing in the middle of the London Blitz, for instance, was enough to make anybody tremble in their boots.

It was difficult to predict which adventures would be tame and which could potentially be disastrous. So, in a slight error of judgement, Hartley had foolishly allowed Rose wander off on her own.

It stared out innocently enough. The bar was in full swing when they stepped inside, and Hartley beamed excitedly, peering around at all the beautiful clothing and the jazz band playing music on the stage that made her itch with the urge to dance.

"Perfect," the Doctor said gladly under his breath, eyes scanning the small crowd as he considered their next move. "Now, how to get their attention...?" he trailed off before taking notice of the microphone on the stage. "This is how you get things done, Hartley," he added with a sure nod, then made a beeline for the microphone.

She watch in mild exasperation as he hopped up onto the small stage just as the beautiful singer stepped away, glancing over at him with curious eyes as she moved. The Doctor tapped on the microphone, checking it worked before he began to speak. "Excuse me. Could I have everybody's attention just for a mo? Be very quick." He paused, and the group of lively partygoers slowly but surely fell silent, staring up at the Doctor expectantly. "Hello! Might seem like a stupid question, but has anything fallen from the sky recently?"

The silence lingered for a beat, only for amused titters of laughter to follow. The Doctor was more than a little confused by the reaction, and Hartley frowned in confusion. Had they unknowingly stumbled upon some kind of a vintage, standup comedy night?

"Sorry, have I said something funny?" the Doctor asked in bewilderment, eyes sweeping the crowd. "It's just, there's this thing that I need to find. Would've fallen from the sky a couple of days ago––" he was interrupted by sirens as they suddenly cut through the quiet, and immediately the people began to scatter in a nervous yet orderly fashion.

Realising with a start exactly what was happening, Hartley caught sight of the posters on the far wall and wanted to smack herself in the face for being so obtuse. The Doctor watched on in utter confusion, and she had to marvel at how someone so clever could at the same time be so laughably thick. She reached up a hand, waving her hand in the air to get his attention, before gesturing to the poster glued to the opposite wall, boldly declaring that Hitler Will Send No Warning.

"Oh," the Time Lord murmured to himself, brow crinkling in realisation. He took a moment to shake his head before looking down at his still relatively new friend with a hint of worry. "We should go," he said seriously, and Hartley couldn't have agreed more.

There were lots of places she wanted to visit – in fact, she could probably count the list of places she didn't want to visit on a single hand. Coincidentally, the middle of the London Blitz happened to be one of them.

They moved with the dispersing crowd, heading back out into the night, much to the consternation of the people behind them who were all rushing to squeeze into the bomb shelter. "Your funeral," muttered a judgemental redhead with a beak-like nose, and Hartley frowned at her as they passed.

"Rose?!" the Doctor called out once the pair were in the open, heading up the ramp towards where the TARDIS was parked. When no reply came, Hartley grew concerned. The sirens still rang out, loud and jarring as they pierced the night air like the very bombs they were warning of. Chills broke out across her skin, and she crossed her arms over her chest to try and stave off the cold.

The Doctor huffed, reaching up to run a hand over his buzzed hair with a well contained anxiety.

"You know, one day, just one day, maybe, I'm going to meet someone who gets the whole 'don't wander off' thing," he muttered to himself, shooting glances up and down the alleyway, looking for any sign of the blonde girl with the Union Jack plastered across her front. "Nine hundred years of phone box travel, it's the only thing left to surprise me," he added to Hartley under his breath.

She chuckled as she absently glanced up at the sky, the laugh fading into nothing as she remembered that bombs could begin dropping onto the city at any moment. They enemy might not have been able to see anything in particular to aim at, but all that really meant was that they were all targets. They were at the whim of fate.

The silence only lasted a short moment, interrupted suddenly by the shrill ringing of the TARDIS telephone. Hartley flinched as it grated on her frayed nerves. She blinked at it in surprise, not having realised the phone box could actually be used as a, well, a phone box.

"How can you be ringing? What's that about, ringing?" the Doctor seemed more irritated than surprised, stalking up to the blue box and glaring at it in annoyance, as though it had somehow slighted him. "What am I supposed to do with a ringing phone?" he asked Hartley idly, glancing over at her with a befuddled frown.

"Usually you'd answer it," she replied, withholding a laugh at the bewilderment in his expression.

"When is anything with me ever 'usual'?" he countered, and she was forced to concede that he had a point.

"Don't answer it," a voice cut across the alley. Hartley flinched at the unexpected interruption. "It's not for you."

Hartley turned to observe the newcomer closely, eyes flickering over the girl quickly, taking in her shabby, holey clothes, shaking fingers and the look of dread on her pretty, youthful face. "And how do you know that?" the Doctor was exceedingly calm, as always, staring back at the younger girl with patience in his eyes.

"'Cause I do," she responded in a defensive snap. "And I'm telling you, don't answer it."

"Well, if you know so much, tell me this – how can it be ringing?" he asked her bluntly, turning back to the phone.

Hartley kept her eyes on the girl, who met her gaze with a steady, pained glance that she didn't completely understand before turning and walking from the alley. Hartley watched her go, arms still crossed over her chest against the cold, then turned back to the oblivious Doctor.

"It's not even a real phone. It's not connected, it's not-" the Time Lord was muttering, and he turned around only to abruptly realise he and his companion were once again alone in the dark, shadowed alleyway. "Where'd she go?" he asked Hartley, but she merely gestured vaguely over her shoulder, making the Doctor roll his eyes.

"You gonna answer it?" she prompted him, pointing at the ringing phone. The girl's warning had seemed sincere, but then again, what harm had ever come from answering a phone?

He huffed again, hesitating only a beat before popping open the compartment and reaching inside, plucking out the phone and holding it to his ear. "Hello?" he spoke carefully, a confused frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "This is the Doctor speaking. How may I help you?"

To Hartley there was only silence, and she wondered what the person on the other end could possibly be saying, because he certainly looked more than confused.

"Who is this? Who's speaking?" the Doctor demanded, growing impatient. "How did you ring here? This isn't a real phone. It's not wired up to anything." He was more than perplexed as he pulled the receiver away from his face to glare at it accusingly, like he might be able to scare it into replying.

"Who was it?" Hartley asked pointlessly, really just for something to say, words to fill the suffocating silence of the alley.

But the Doctor said nothing, slipping the phone back into place inside the small compartment on the front of the TARDIS before reaching over to knock on the wooden doors. "Rose? You in there?" he called, but there was no answer.

He spun around, opening his mouth to say something to Hartley, only for a loud and jarring noise to rip their attention away, directing it to the street across from the alley. Hartley flinched at its volume, but it didn't sound like she imagined a bomb would, so she took comfort in that, at least.

"What now?" the Doctor groaned up at the blackened sky, as though asking the universe itself. With a reluctant expression he spun around and raced towards the mouth of the alley.

Hartley steered herself after him, the only sound in her ears her sneakers slapping against the concrete. "Wait up, Doc," she whisper-shouted, worried she'd lose him and miss the whole adventure. He was fast for such a stocky guy, and she was still getting used to all the running that was included in what she and Rose affectionately referred to as the Companion's Lifestyle.

The Doctor disappeared around a bend, and panic licked at Hartley like a flame.

"Doctor!" she hissed again, pushing her legs as fast as they could go, panting from exertion as she ran. She tripped around the same corner, eyes narrowed as she peered through the darkness of the shadowed city, desperately searching for the Doctor's tall form in amongst the shadows. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Hartley exhaled sharply, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from her face. "Crap," she cursed under her breath, teeth grinding together in frustration. What was she meant to do now? Surely she couldn't go storming into every house on the block looking for the one into which the Doctor had disappeared.

There was a yelp from behind her, and she startled, twirling around with her hands held up in preparation for a fight she wouldn't have been able to win. She was surprised, then, to see it was only a small child whom had fallen to the ground, holding his knee where his trousers were ripped and stained with blood.

"Are you all right?" she asked as she took a step forwards, but he flinched backwards, away from her as she reached out to touch him. "It's okay!" Hartley assured him quickly, hands held up to try and prove she wasn't a threat. He was young, maybe eight, and desperately underfed, threadbare clothes hanging loosely over his small frame. "I'm not going to hurt you," she promised him in her sweetest voice. He only eyed her with distrust, hands pressed protectively around the nasty graze on his knee. "My name's Hartley," she offered gently. "What's yours?"

The child said nothing, staring back at her, lip wobbling in the shadows of the night. The sirens kicked back to life, blearing throughout the otherwise silent night. Hartley glanced up at the sky where she could just make out the distant shapes of the planes flying overhead. A shiver travelled down her spine, her stomach swooping with fear.

"We need to get off the street," she whispered. "Can you walk?" He didn't move, and she shifted closer to try and pick him up. He flinched back again, big eyes watering with terror. "I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to help."

The boy said nothing, but he stopped edging away, and she took that as a sign to continue, shifting closer and grasping him gently, scooping him off the ground with a muted huff of exertion. He clung onto her tightly, sniffling sadly as she hurried off the street and out of the open. There was a house to her left, and she struggled to shift the boy's weight and tried to open the door. It was blessedly unlocked, and she practically sagged with relief, pushing her way inside, the door clicking shut behind her. She assumed it was empty, everybody hiding away in bomb shelters until the threat had passed.

The house was set up typically for the 40's, and Hartley moved into the sitting room when nobody appeared to shout at her to get out. She put the injured boy on the sofa with a sigh of relief, her arms already beginning to ache. He was small for his age, which helped, but she still wasn't particularly strong. All the exercise she got was of the cardio variety, rather than any sort of muscle building.

There was an old sheet hanging over the back of the sofa, and she grasped it, struggling for a few moments before ripping off a small section and approaching the child, who watched her like she were a rabid dog he was expecting to bite. "What's your name, then?" she asked him again, keeping her voice soft and kind as she began to mop up the blood smeared on his grazed knee.

"Tom," he finally answered, little voice shaky with nerves. There was another spike in the sirens, and he flinched like a nervous kitten. Hartley waited for him to calm down, then kept dabbing at his injury, taking care not to hurt him.

"Nice to meet you, Tom," she told him, smiling reassuringly. "Where were you off to in such a hurry?"

Tom looked wary to answer, but eventually gave in, lifting his wiry shoulders in a shrug. "I was running from the boy," he said in a trembling voice, and the glint of haunted fear in his eyes was unmistakeable.

"What boy?" she pressed gently.

"The empty one."

It didn't actually make any sense, but Hartley nodded slowly anyway, as if she were following without issue. "And where do you live, Tom?" she asked instead.

He grimaced again, ducking his head as though ashamed, lifting his shoulders in a non-committal shrug. Suddenly she understood why he looked so malnourished and dirty – he was homeless.

"Is there somewhere I can take you? Anyone who looks after you?" she asked him gently.

Tom seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Nancy."

"That your sister?" Hartley asked casually. Tom shook his head. "Well, where can we find this Nancy?" The boy could only shrug. "Is there somewhere you can go, somewhere you know she'll find you, once the air raid's over with?"

"There's a shack, near the train tracks," he told her meekly. Just as he spoke, the sirens above them fell quiet, and Hartley smiled at the boy with forced cheerfulness.

"Well, we'd better hurry along then, hadn't we? Don't want to keep Nancy waiting."

Tom grew more comfortable with her as they walked, holding onto her hand tightly, pulling her through the abandoned streets quickly and quietly, like he'd been navigating them his whole life, constantly striving to remain unnoticed. They didn't talk, keeping silent and under the radar, until finally they ended up at the train tracks. They followed them for a long few minutes before Tom suddenly took off at a run for a tiny, nondescript shack nestled in between some dying shrubs.

"Nancy!" he called out as he entered, and Hartley sped up, stepping inside just in time to see him hugging an older girl tightly around the waist.

The girl, presumably Nancy, looked over at her with suspicion, and Hartley held her hands up again in silent assurance that she wasn't a danger to either of them. Hartley realised she recognised her – it was the girl from before, the one who'd warned the Doctor against answering his phone. How did she fit into all of this?

"This is Hartley," Tom was telling Nancy excitedly, personality shining through now that he wasn't so terrified. "She saved me."

"Are you all right?" Nancy asked immediately, pulling back to stare down at Tom in concern.

"It was just a grazed knee," Hartley spoke up, and Nancy look back up at her, expression carefully blank, like a perfectly constructed mask. "I hardly deserve a medal of honour, but I couldn't just leave him bleeding on the street," she added, trying to judge the younger woman's reaction.

She looked like she very much didn't want to say it, but in the end Nancy mumbled a weak, "thank you," and stroked her fingers maternally through the younger boy's hair. Hartley smiled at the pair of them, thinking of how awe-inspiring it was to find such beauty and kindness even in war times such as these. Nancy looked up again and gasped at something behind Hartley, who flinched and spun around, her fist flying into her would-be attacker.

"Whoa!" the Doctor's familiar accent washed over her as he caught her fist in one of his large hands. "No need to go around throwing punches."

She grimaced at him even, making it perfectly clear that she didn't appreciate his sudden materialisation. "And you don't need to go sneaking up on people in the middle of an air raid," she replied sternly. The Doctor rolled his eyes like she were being the unreasonable one. Something suddenly occurred to her, and she looked back at Nancy in surprise. "You two know each other?" she asked mildly.

Leave it to the Doctor to make friends with the head street-rat within the first twenty minutes of their trip. It definitely sounded like something he'd do.

"No," Nancy argued, frowning deeply as she turned to address the Doctor. "How'd you follow me here?" she asked defensively, an arm curled protectively around Tom, who had swiped a loaf of bread from Nancy's rucksack and was shoving chunks into his mouth with gusto.

"I'm good at following, me. Got the nose for it," the Doctor replied cheerfully.

"People can't usually follow me if I don't want them to," Nancy said, cool and measured.

"My nose has special powers."

"Yeah? That's why it's...?" she trailed off, looking away pointedly.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"Nothing," Nancy shook her head.

"What?"

"Nothing!" she insisted, and there was a beat before, "do your ears have special powers too?"

Hartley snickered and brightly told him, "oh, I like her!" The Doctor looked at her sourly, so she tried to school her features into something more appropriate, but she caught sight of the tiny lift of Nancy's lips and couldn't quite smother her grin entirely.

"What are you trying to say?" the Doctor asked Nancy, who shook her head dismissively.

"Goodnight, Mister," she said with a note of finality, turning back towards Tom who had curled up on the floor to continue eating, downing the food as quickly as he could. It was as though he wasn't sure when he was ever going to get another chance to eat again, and Hartley watched on sadly, tugging at the sleeves of her jumper and listening as the Doctor spoke.

"Nancy, there's something chasing you and the other kids," he began seriously, and Hartley would have had to have been blind to miss the grimace of pain that crossed the young girl's face. "Looks like a boy but isn't a boy, and it started about a month ago, right? The thing I'm looking for, the thing that fell from the sky, that's when it landed. And you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Nancy looked like she desperately didn't want to say anything, like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. "Please, Nancy," Hartley begged her, thinking of the fear in Tom's voice when he'd told her of the empty boy he'd been running from. Nancy relented, shoulders hunched over against the cold.

"There was a bomb," she told them reluctantly, still standing ever so slightly in front of Tom, a protective stance that was thoughtless and instinctual. "A bomb that wasn't a bomb. Fell the other end of Limehouse Green Station."

"Take me there," the Doctor ordered her gently.

"There's soldiers guarding it. Barbed wire," she shook her head. "You'll never get through."

"Try me."

Nancy looked wary, glancing down at a distracted Tom as she considered his words. "You sure you want to know what's going on in there?" she finally asked, looking back up at the two travellers, eyes full of skepticism.

"We really want to know," the Doctor promised.

Nancy seemed to relent, although there was still an glint of disapproval in her eyes. "Then there's someone you need to talk to first," she told them lowly.

"And who might that be?"

Nancy took a breath, as though the next words were hard to say. "The doctor," she spoke surely, but for a moment the words didn't make sense. Hartley glanced over at the Doctor, whose eyes eye wide with surprise. "Come on, I'll show you to the hospital," she finished, reluctance clear on her face before she bent down to Tom's level and began murmuring something to him quietly.

"What's the plan?" Hartley asked the Doctor once the attention was off of them, leaving them free to talk.

"Follow her," he answered simply. "We need answers, and I've a feeling this is the only way we're gonna get them."

Hartley had concerns, but by now she knew enough about how this worked that she knew the only way they were going to get anywhere was by following the clues they'd been given. Besides, the Doctor would stay with her – and there was no way anything bad could happen with him around. Right?

"Okay," said Nancy in a decisive voice, straightening back up. "It's this way."

She turned and led them out towards the tracks again, but Hartley paused before leaving. "You okay, Tom?" she asked, because she had to be sure. The little boy nodded from where he was now tearing off chunks of ham from the bone. She smiled gently, glad to see he was happy, however briefly that happiness may have lasted, and followed the others out into the night.

The hospital wasn't far away, only about a five minute walk, and once they got there and crouched behind some cover, the Doctor pulled a set of binoculars from his pocket to scan the area. "That's where the bomb fell?" Hartley asked Nancy softly, eyeing the large tarp covering something in the centre of a ring of fences.

"It's under that tarpaulin," she confirmed. "They put the fence up over night. See that building? The hospital? That's where the doctor is. You should talk to him."

"For now, I'm more interested in getting in there," the Doctor shook his head, gesturing to the guarded fences surrounding the 'bomb'.

"Talk to the doctor first," Nancy insisted.

"Why?" the Doctor's voice held an edge of suspicion.

"Because then maybe you won't want to get inside," she replied tonelessly before standing from her crouch and turning to walk away.

"Where're you going?" the Doctor called after her as loudly as he dared.

"There was a lot of food in that house," she answered him sharply. "I've got mouths to feed. Should be safe enough now."

"Can I ask you a question?" he continued before she could leave, and it was with an irritated sigh that Nancy turned back around, staring at the Doctor expectantly. "Who did you lose?"

Hartley was as surprised by the question as Nancy, and they both stared at him without words, each stunned in their own way. "What?" Nancy finally asked, her voice weak and breathy, like the words had caused her pain.

"The way you look after all those kids... It's because you lost somebody, isn't it?" the Doctor said wisely, and Hartley knew he was spot on by the way Nancy's expression twisted with pain. "You're doing all this to make up for it," he pressed. Hartley watched the war of emotions play out on the girl's expression before it finally settled into something like resignation.

"My little brother, Jamie," she eventually revealed, a deep suffering to her voice. Hartley and her sister may not have gotten along, but if anything ever happened to her, she wouldn't have been able to handle it – of that much she was certain. She'd be absolutely devastated, and she could see that same pain, that same responsibility, reflected in Nancy's dark eyes. "One night I went out looking for food. Same night that thing fell. I told him not to follow me, I told him it was dangerous, but he just," she cut herself off, agony in her voice. "He just didn't like being on his own," she said like she was trying to convince them it wasn't his fault. And it wasn't, but that didn't make it hers, either.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked her gently.

"In the middle of an air raid?" Nancy scoffed. "What do you think happened?"

Hartley closed her eyes, trying her hardest not to think about a little boy, probably a lot like Tom, scared and alone in the middle of an air raid, only to meet his end with a bomb dropped from the endless shadows above.

"Amazing," the Doctor murmured, and Hartley opened her eyes to stare at him. "1941," he said, as though they might have forgotten what year it was. "Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it. Nothing. Until one, tiny, damp little island says no. No. Not here. A mouse in front of a lion," the Doctor sounded in awe, his words giving Hartley a new perspective on their species, on who they were as a people and a planet. "You're amazing, the lot of you. Don't know what you do to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me."

He grinned then, bright and cheerful, the expression in great contrast to the dark circumstances they found themselves in.

"Off you go then; do what you've got to do," he finished, waving her off kindly, "save the world."

Nancy stared at the pair of mysterious strangers for another moment before finally shaking her head and scurrying off into the night, Hartley knew the Doctor's words were ringing in her ears, much like they did her own. She wondered if it would have any effect.

"So, hospital?" the Doctor asked Hartley cheerfully, turning and leading the way up the hill towards the looming gates of the hospital. The streets were disturbingly still, filled with the kind of silence that was born from terror, rather than peace.

The Doctor's words weighed heavily on Hartley's mind as they walked, and if only to break the oppressive hush that had befallen them, she spoke her thoughts aloud. "Is that really what you think of us?"

"What's that?" he asked distractedly, looking up from where he was fiddling with the settings of his sonic.

"You think humans are amazing?" she repeated.

"Of course I do," he agreed without reservation. "How could I not?"

Hartley lifted her shoulders in a shrug, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "I guess I just figured, well, there're millions upon billions of different races and civilisations out there," she said with a pointed glance up at the sky. "Why should we matter in the grand scheme of things?"

The Doctor was quiet for a minute as they walked, and just when she was convinced he was going to pretend she hadn't spoken, he answered her. "Humans matter more than you think, more than anyone thinks," he told her passionately. "Why do you think I keep coming back to Earth?" he asked, and she had to admit this was a fair point. "I think you're absolutely, undeniably, perfectly fantastic. And that's the truth of it." A beat. "You matter, Hartley," he added with a little less fervour, this time sounding more sincere than enthusiastic.

She smiled down at the gravel beneath her boots. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she muttered playfully, and the Doctor gave a scoffed reply.

"Don't get used to it."

The pair of travelling companions stepped into the hospital together, the silence inside even worse than that of out in the street. There were no lights, the entryway dark and still. She could just make out two large doors on either side of the room.

"This way," the Doctor said decisively, and she followed him through the door on the right.

"How d'you know?" she asked, wondering if there was something in his Time Lord genetics that let him see through the dark. She wouldn't have put it past him.

"Played eenie-meenie-miney-mo in my head."

She paused, absorbing this information before an amused grin appeared on her face that was swallowed by the shadows before he could catch sight of it.

They walked for only another couple metres before the Doctor stopped, suddenly pushing open a set of swinging doors and stepping out of the long hallway, into a large ward. "What in Kasterborous...?" the Time Lord murmured to himself unthinkingly, but Hartley caught it and another smile flickered at her lips.

That was until she caught sight of what was inside the shadowed ward. Dozens of people were laying on beds, completely and utterly still. Lifeless. Hartley's breath caught in her throat and she unthinkingly stepped closer to the Doctor, grasping onto his arm with her hand, sticking close to his side as they edged deeper into the darkened room.

She wondered whether they were all dead – but it seemed like an awfully strange sort of morgue, even for the 40's. They weren't breathing, that much she could tell for certain, but they also weren't decomposing, so they weren't corpses – the thought alone made her feel ill.

"You'll find them everywhere," a voice spoke abruptly, and she spun around to find the source – an older man with greying hair sat still in a chair in the very middle of the room. He peered back at them evenly, no hint of a waver in his clouded, milky eyes. "In every bed, in every ward. Hundreds of them," he said in a rasp.

"Yes, I saw," the Doctor replied quickly, taking the sudden appearance in his stride. "Why are they still wearing gas masks?" he asked, and with a start Hartley realised he was right. Gas masks were attached to the faces of every single patient there, hiding their features from view. Hartley wondered suddenly whether anyone would ever get to see their faces again.

"They're not," the mysterious man told them, the words making no sense; which surely he knew. "Who are you?"

"I'm, er..." the alien hesitated, casting a glance over at Hartley before continuing on fluidly, trying to get around giving a name. "Are you the doctor?" he asked instead.

"Dr. Constantine. And you are?" the old man asked smoothly.

"Nancy sent us," the Doctor responded, just as smooth.

"Nancy? That means you must've been asking about the bomb."

"Yes."

"What do you know about it?"

"Nothing. S'why I was asking. What do you know?"

"Only what it's done."

"These people, they were all caught up in the blast?"

"None of them were," Constantine responded cryptically as he chuckled, only for the sound to break off into heaving, painful coughs. Hartley moved forwards on instinct, hands held out to steady the trembling old man. "No!" he warned, stumbling backwards in his haste to get away. Startled but also not about to go against his wishes, Hartley flinched back, hands dangling uselessly by her sides. The man collapsed into the chair behind him, wiping at his mouth with a wrinkled, waxen hand.

"You're very sick," the Doctor quietly stated the obvious.

"Dying, I should think," Constantine countered bluntly. "I just haven't been able to find the time. Are you a doctor?"

"I have my moments."

"Have you examined any of them yet?"

Hartley watched the Doctor work, standing back against a filing cabinet, her dark blue eyes sweeping over the victims, that sick feeling remaining in her gut like bad, curdling milk. The Time Lord raced around the room, working himself up into more and more of a panic as he realised the sickening truth.

"How did this happen? How did it start?" the Doctor demanded with wide eyes.

"When that bomb dropped, there was just one victim," Constantine told him gruffly.

"Dead?"

"At first. His injuries were truly dreadful. By the following morning, every doctor and nurse who had treated him, who had touched him, had those exact same injuries. By the morning after that, every patient in the same ward, the exact same injuries," Constantine spoke matter-of-factly, his expression grim. "Within a week, the entire hospital. Physical injuries as plague. Can you explain that?" The Doctor couldn't, but this didn't seem to surprise the other man much. "What would you say was the cause of death?"

"The head trauma," the Doctor replied straightly.

"No."

"Asphyxiation," Hartley said, and both glanced at her. "It has to be – because of the masks," she explained hurriedly.

The Doctor seemed sold, but Constantine only shook his head. "No."

"The collapse of the chest cavity," the Doctor huffed.

"No."

"All right," the Doctor relented with an air of impatience. "What was the cause of death?"

"There wasn't one," the old man revealed mysteriously, making the Time Lord's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Hartley grimaced, keeping her eyes on the two men, refusing to glance at the victims in the beds. "They're not dead." He hit the bin beside him with his cane, causing a loud, sharp sound that made Hartley flinch at the same time as every patient in the ward sat up in unison, staring unseeingly in front of them and not moving another inch. Hartley flinched again, this time moving closer into the Doctor, his presence a reassurance in her mind.

She wasn't sure what was going on, all she knew was this was the things on the bed were dead without being dead, and the only possible connection she was making was 'zombies' and she was just about mortally terrified.

"It's alright. They're harmless," Constantine assured them calmly, coughing into his hand once more, but Hartley didn't feel particularly reassured, not with the way they were just sitting there like bred cattle, staring unseeingly ahead of them, completely lifeless – soulless. "They just sort of sit there. No heartbeat, no life signs of any kind," he continued with a grimace, tracing his beady eyes over the rows and rows of patients. "They just don't die."

"And they've just been left here? Nobody's doing anything?" the Doctor was outraged. Hartley hadn't considered that side of things – she'd only been thinking of what this meant for everyone else, she hadn't stopped to think that these mindless zombies might have actually had feelings.

"I try and make them comfortable. What else is there?" Constantine sounded defensive, and Hartley was inclined to agreed. She'd seen enough zombie horror-films to know how this story ended. What more could one man do for them? Besides, the bloke was on his last legs at it was, barely able to hold himself up without collapsing under his own weight.

"Just you?" the Doctor was in disbelief. "You're the only one here?"

"Before this war began, I was a father and a grandfather. Now, I am neither. But I'm still a doctor."

Hartley's heart bled for the poor man. She couldn't imagine the sort of loss he'd endured. She could sympathise in one respect – she had no family with her either; but at least she knew hers were alive and well, if only lost to her, for now. She had to ponder his logic. She'd always thought once you were family, you never stopped being so; but perhaps she'd been wrong all along.

Were you still a friend when you had none? Were you still a daughter if your parents were unreachable?

The biggest identity crisis known to man hit her in the space of a split second, and she inhaled sharply at the force of the blow. She didn't have time to ponder who she was, however, she had to get through this next adventure alive, then she could look out at the stars and yell 'who am I?' as dramatically as she so wished.

"Yeah. I know the feeling," the Doctor was saying, and she took a moment to process that. Was he saying he knew what it was like to be a Doctor, or that he knew what it was like to lose the only family you had?

Her gut told her it was both.

"I suspect the plan is to blow up the hospital and blame it on a German bomb," Constantine told them hoarsely, resting his weight on his cane.

"Probably too late," the Doctor commented.

"No. There are isolated cases. Isolated cases breaking out all over London." He broke into a violent coughing fit, and this time it was the Doctor who stepped forwards to offer assistance. "Stay back, stay back!" he hissed through another cough. "Listen to me. Top floor. Room eight-oh-two. That's where they took the first victim, the one from the crash site. And you must find Nancy again."

"Nancy?" the Doctor sounded bewildered by the sudden onslaught of vital information.

"It was her brother," he divulged, beginning to shake more violently. "She knows more than she's saying. She won't tell me, but she might..." Constantine coughed again, cloudy eyes turning glassy as he stared at them unseeingly. "M-Mummy," he stammered brokenly. Fear stabbed through Hartley like an icicle, and she stared in mute horror at the scene happening before her, like something out of a low-budget horror film. "Are you my mummy?"

Looking very much like he was about to throw up, the old man heaved. But instead of vomit, the front of a gas mask spat from his mouth, beginning to melt over his skin like plastic on an open fire. Hartley stepped closer to the Doctor, grasping his arm instinctively as she watched, unable to move her eyes from the horrific sight. She dug her fingertips into the cool material of his leather jacket, swallowing the bile climbing her throat.

Travelling with the Doctor brought her more joy and beauty than any one person ever got to see in a lifetime, and while she wouldn't have given it up for the world, sometimes it also brought her more horror and dread than she thought she could handle.

But, as she always did, Hartley compartmentalised and pushed away her revulsion just in time to hear a blessed voice call from the hallway. "Hello?"

Deliberately turning away from the ghastly sight in front of her, Hartley let go of her vice-like grip on the Doctor and turned to the doors, pushing through them and forcing a tight smile at Rose, who was rushing up to meet them. Only she wasn't alone.

A man was jogging beside her, and he was so roguishly handsome that Hartley very nearly forgot about the zombies filling the building, and instead simply blinked at the man, who was grinning back charmingly.

"Good evening. Hope we're not interrupting," the man himself was saying as he came to a stop in front of them. "Captain Jack Harkness," he introduced himself, reaching a hand out to the Doctor. "I've been hearing all about you both on the way over."

"He knows. I had to tell him about us being Time Agents," Rose said with deliberate emphasis, catching the Time Lord's eye meaningfully. The Doctor gave no indication of noticing, but Hartley knew he was too clever not to.

"And it's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Spock," Jack continued brightly before turning his attention to Hartley while Rose and the Doctor began to bicker from behind them. "And you must be Ms. Daniels," the charismatic man drawled in that lilting American accent, taking her hand in his before bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to her skin.

"Just Hartley," she corrected with an easy smile and a fluttering heart, blinking up at him eagerly. Why did he have to be so damn appealing? Now wasn't the time to swoon over a pretty guy in a nice coat. They had work to do.

Jack merely beamed in response before pressing his hand to the small of her back and gently urging her back into the ward after Rose. Even though that ward was the last place Hartley wanted to be, she went willingly, knowing she didn't actually have a choice.

They stepped into the room, and Jack was taken aback by all the victims laying still on the beds, probably not having expected it.

"What's going on?" Jack asked Hartley, bewilderment on his handsome face. "Who are all these people?" Hartley didn't have an answer, so she said nothing. "Hello?" Jack moved towards the closest one, leaning down over the unmoving body and reaching out to touch them.

"Don't touch them!" Hartley warned quickly.

Jack withdrew his hand, turning to stare at her in surprise. "What? Why?"

"I dunno," she replied, arms crossed over her chest. "Doctor Constantine warned us not to. I think it might be contagious."

"What might be contagious?" he asked, confused.

Again, Hartley found she couldn't answer. "What's happening?" the Doctor demanded suddenly, barging into the room with a bang of the double doors, holding no regard for Hartley's frayed nerves.

"Sorry?" the Captain asked in polite confusion, turning to frown at the alien in bewilderment. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, and as far as Hartley could tell, he certainly sounded genuine. But just to be safe she shifted away from him, just on the off chance he was at fault.

"This has something to do with you and that Chula ship," the Doctor said accusingly, jabbing a finger in Jack's direction.

"I assure you, it doesn't," the American snapped back before pausing as he realised one important factor. "And what exactly is it that I'm being accused of, exactly?" He gestured to the lifeless bodies with raised brows and incredulity on his face. "How could I possibly have done … whatever this is?"

"Scan them," Hartley spoke up, glad her voice was steady. Jack turned to her in surprise. Her gaze was gentle and patient, a far cry from the Doctor's steely glare, promising retribution once he knew the truth. "Any one of them. Go on," she told him with growing confidence. Jack shot her a skeptical look before complying, hurrying over to a bed on the right and beginning to run his hand over the patient, device on his wrist glowing a deep blue.

"Okay, what does this prove, exactly?" the Captain asked dubiously.

"Scan another," the Doctor ordered him in a snap.

Jack sent him an irritated glance but still did as he was told. The annoyed expression on his face faded as he took further readings, staring down at his device with growing disbelief. "This just isn't possible. How did this happen?" he asked aloud, rushing over to another of the lifeless forms, running his technology down their body. They were all the same, down to the very last atom.

"What kind of Chula ship landed here?" the Doctor demanded again, the look on his features screaming that he sure as hell had better say the right thing, or there'd be hell to pay. Hartley had been on the receiving end of the same look before. She knew how awful it could be.

"What?" Jack asked dumbly.

"He said it was a warship," Rose spoke up, turning to speak to the Doctor before casting Jack an utterly unimpressed look. "He stole it, parked it somewhere out there, somewhere a bomb's going to fall on it unless we make him an offer."

"What kind of warship?" the Doctor growled.

"Does it matter?" Jack snapped, beginning to lose his cool. "It's got nothing to do with this."

"This started at the bomb site," the Doctor hissed, infuriated. "It's got everything to do with it. What kind of warship?" It was clear he wasn't going to like having to ask again. Hartley wouldn't want to be around for that fallout.

"An ambulance!" the Captain finally yelled, holding out his wrist so his device was on full display. "Look," he said pointedly, pressing a button and making a small hologram appear over the watch-like device. "That's what you chased through the Time Vortex. It's space junk. I wanted to kid you it was valuable. It's empty. I made sure of it. Nothing but a shell. I threw it at you," he was beginning to panic, the calm façade melting like butter. "I saw your time travel vehicle, love the retro look by the way, nice panels," he added to retrieve what was left of his coolness. He sighed, throwing his hands into the air when he got no positive reaction. "I threw you the bait," he admitted with a grumble.

"Bait?" Rose asked, perplexed.

"I wanted to sell it to you and then destroy it before you found out it was junk."

"Oh my God," Hartley muttered in sheer disbelief. This guy wasn't just an idiot, he was an intelligent idiot. And everyone knew that was the most dangerous kind.

"You said it was a war ship," Rose was frowning.

"They have ambulances in wars," Jack played the defensive before apparently deciding it was too much effort. "It was a con. I was conning you," he explained slowly, like he was talking to a group of toddlers. Hartley threw her hands up in the air, turning away from him in an attempt to keep from calling him a bad word. "That's what I am, I'm a con man. I thought you were Time Agents. You're not, are you?"

Hartley turned back to the others, exchanging a flat look with Rose who murmured, "just a couple more freelancers."

"Oh. Should have known," Jack said snidely, lashing out now that he'd lost control of the con. "The way you guys are blending in with the local colour? I mean, Flag Girl was bad enough, but U-Boat Captain? Not to mention, Hartley? Talk about a bad alias."

Hartley was affronted, turning to stare at Jack in unadulterated annoyance. She'd gotten enough flack for her name in her old life, she didn't need it in this one too.

He seemed to care very little for her insulted expression, huffing as he turned to face the Doctor properly.

"Anyway, whatever's happening here has got nothing to do with that ship," he finished with a note of finality, adding in a sharp nod for effect; Hartley was surprised he didn't stamp his foot along with it. He certainly seemed the type.

There was a lengthy pause, and Hartley drifted over to one of the bodies closest to her, taking care not to get near enough to touch it, merely staring down at the still form. She was young, in her teens and wearing a pretty floral dress, but the thick, grotesque gas mask on her face made her seem like a monster, and Hartley looked away with a grimace.

"And what exactly is happening here, Doc?" she asked instead, ready to get some answers and solve this whole mess as quickly as possible. She just wanted to curl up in bed with some tea and a book, was that too much to ask for?

"Human DNA is being rewritten – by an idiot," the Doctor responded grimly, but this didn't actually clear anything up for Hartley.

"What d'you mean?" Rose pressed, just as lost.

"I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. And Hartley knew how much he hated say that. "Some kind of virus converting human beings into these things. But why? What's the point?"

"Can we study them? Maybe we'll be able to find something the doctors of the 40's couldn't?" Rose suggested, reaching up to adjust her Union Flag shirt.

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the patients, every single one of them shooting up into a sitting position. Rose jerked backwards with a small shout, nearly stumbling into Hartley, who grasped her firmly, just barely keeping them both from tumbling onto one of the beds and spreading the infection further.

"Mummy. Mummy? Mummy," the bodies all began to sing as one, climbing from their beds and shuffling closer to the quartet. Hartley's pulse thudded in her head, and she gasped as she and Rose scurried backwards, away from the danger. It was like something out of a bad horror movie, and she swallowed, gripping Rose tightly.

"What's happening?" her friend asked anxiously, allowing Hartley to pull her away until they were against the wall, as far away from the 'zombies' as they could possibly get in the small, enclosed space.

"I don't know," the Doctor replied helplessly as he and Jack moved with them, pressed against the wall as they stared out over the sea of half-dead, zombie-like patients. "Don't let them touch you," he added quickly, hands balling into fists as he desperately tried to figure out what to do.

"What happens if they touch us?" Rose asked tightly, eyes wide as she stared out, hand clutching Hartley's, who squeezed back just as firmly.

"You're looking at it," the Doctor told them grimly, and Rose gripped Hartley's hand even tighter in terror.

The patients got closer and closer, their calls for 'mummy' getting louder and more singsong as they approached. Hartley's flesh broke out in goosebumps, and not the good kind. She glanced at the Doctor, waiting for him to save them. Because surely he was going to? Surely he'd think of something, and they'd all walk away from this, completely and utterly unscathed?

Fear gripped her when the Doctor continued to say nothing, and her own hand shot out to curl around the fabric of Jack's coat, clutching it tightly. She may have been enough support for Rose, but she certainly wasn't enough for herself. Jack didn't flinch away from the contact, but when she glanced up at him he looked momentarily surprised, only to melt back into worry when he looked back towards the approaching horde.

Were they staring into the face of their future? Was this what was destined to become of them? Gas-mask zombies, unfeeling, breathless and calling out for a mummy they'd never find, forever?

"Go to your room," the Doctor shouted so suddenly that the others all started in surprise. The patients came to an abrupt stop, staring back at the Doctor unseeingly. There was a pregnant pause. They weren't coming any closer, but they weren't going away, either. "Go to your room," he continued with renewed vigour, finding hope in their hesitation. "I mean it. I'm very, very angry with you. I am very, very cross. Go to your room!" he bellowed at them, and just when Hartley was sure it was over and they were only delaying the inevitable, something miraculous happened.

Each patient hung their head in shame, like they were the child they all seemed to have regressed into, turning and slowly shuffling away from the relieved quartet. Each zombie went back to their own beds, looking very much like scolded toddlers who'd been told they were naughty.

The Doctor exhaled loudly, a pleased grin spreading across his lips. "I'm really glad that worked," he told them, contrastingly cheerful. "Those would have been terrible last words."

Hartley rolled her eyes, used to this kind of reaction. Jack looked more confused by the odd behaviour, but he said nothing. Once the patients were all back on their beds, Hartley finally let go of the Captain's coat, but continued to hold Rose's hand, knowing the girl was more than a little shaken up over the whole thing. She herself was terrified – as far as near misses went, this one was nearer than most.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Hartley muttered aloud, and Captain Jack made a sound of agreement.

"How'd you know that would work?" Rose asked the Doctor curiously, pushing away from the wall and wandering back over to one of the occupied beds. She squeezed Hartley's hand once more before sending her a grateful smile and pulling away.

"Huh," the Doctor made a sound that wasn't quite a chuckle and wasn't quite a scoff. "That's funny," he said lightly, a goofy grin on his face.

Rose looked confused. "He didn't know it would work," Hartley murmured to her quietly, a hint of amusement sitting on her lips. "Bastard," she added softer, only slightly joking, so just Rose and the Captain could hear. Rose rolled her eyes with a hysterical kind of laugh before turning to stare at one of the many lifeless bodies. Jack was still in shock, the whole thing seeming to have come from nowhere. The Doctor was, as usual, completely oblivious.

"Just once I'd like him not to get into these situations without a plan," Rose complained to Hartley quietly, although the twitching of her lips gave away her true feelings. "Why are they all wearing gas masks?" she asked louder, so the Doctor could actually hear.

"They're not," Jack was the one to answer, dropping into an empty chair and kicking his feet up onto the supplied desk. The astonishment from the situation had faded, giving way to what she assumed was his usually-calm disposition. "Those masks are flesh and bone," he told them casually.

Rose looked repulsed, grimacing at the patient beside her. Hartley eyed the masks critically, wondering how on Earth that had happened. Were they in an episode of the X Files? Or the Twilight Zone? She supposed it was more than that, more than an episode of fiction – this was life with the Doctor.

"How was your con supposed to work?" the Doctor asked Jack without preamble, shooting the Captain a stern glare that would make a lesser man shake in his boots.

"Simple enough, really," Jack began conversationally, arms crossed lazily over his chest. "Find some harmless piece of space junk, let the nearest Time Agent track it back to Earth, convince him it's valuable, name a price. When he's put fifty percent up front; oops! A German bomb falls on it, destroys it forever. He never gets to see what he's paid for, never knows he's been had. I buy him a drink with his own money, and we discuss dumb luck. The perfect self-cleaning con," he said with a pleased grin, as though this were something to be proud of.

Hartley cringed at the same time as the Doctor sarcastically muttered, "yeah, perfect."

Jack sobered some, clearing his throat, having the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed of himself.

"The London Blitz is great for self-cleaners," he began again in that conversational tone. "Pompeii's nice if you want to make a vacation of it, but you've got to set your alarm for volcano day," Jack laughed, blinding beam fixed into place. Nobody else's mouths so much as twitched. The Doctor glared at the man, unimpressed and disparaging. "Getting a hint of disapproval," Jack said, shooting Hartley an intensified look of exasperation, as though they were somehow already friends.

"Take a look around the room," the Doctor spat at him in disgust. "This is what your harmless piece of space-junk did!"

"It was a burnt-out medical transporter. It was empty," Jack argued hotly.

The Doctor scoffed in his direction before jerking his head in the direction of his two companions. "Rose, Hartley," he said, and knowing better than to argue, the pair of women followed his command, trailing after him out of the room.

"Are we getting out of here?" Rose asked hopefully, and Hartley cast a glance back at the lifeless bodies on the beds, suppressing a shudder.

"We're going upstairs," the Doctor said curtly.

"I even programmed the flight computer so it wouldn't land on anything living!" Jack argued, shouting after them to be heard, shooting to his feet defensively and scurrying after them. "I harmed no-one. I don't know what's happening here, but believe me, I had nothing to do with it!"

"I'll tell you what's happening," the Doctor responded snidely, a rare snarl to his voice as he whirled back around to address the Captain, who had now gone pale. "You forgot to set your alarm clock. It's volcano day."

The shrill sound of another loud siren pierced the air, and Hartley flinched again at how shocking the noise was in contrast to the quiet of the ward. "What's that?" Rose asked warily.

"Must be the all clear," Hartley told her, glancing out the window at the city, glad to see that at least German bombs weren't just another threat to add to the rapidly growing pile of threats they were in danger of drowning in.

"I wish," the Doctor growled, throwing the door open and storming out into the hallway, disappearing before any of the trio left behind could follow.

"Dammit, not again," Hartley mumbled in frustration. "Come on," she said louder, directing the others after him. "We don't want to lose him, trust me." Jack paused before following, and Hartley sent him a levelled expression, letting him know the invitation was open, but not for much longer. He seemed to change his mind, racing after her quickly. They all spilled out into the hall, glancing up and down, searching for the energetic Time Lord. "Doc?!" Hartley yelled, picking a random direction and beginning to run.

"Mr. Spock?" Jack yelled, none the wiser to the Doctor's name.

"Have you got a blaster?" they heard, and Rose came to an abrupt stop, turning and backtracking until she spied the Doctor halfway up a staircase to the left. Hartley did the same, and they quickly followed after him.

"Sure!" Jack replied enthusiastically, practically shoving the girls over in his haste to get to the top of the stairs. The two women rolled their eyes, following him up to where the Doctor was waiting in front of a secure looking metal door.

"The night your space-junk landed, someone was hurt," the alien revealed darkly, casting him an angry look before the expression was wiped, as though it had never been there in the first place. "This was where they were taken," he said sombrely.

"What happened?" Rose asked, a sadness in her voice.

"Let's find out. Get it open," he ordered the Captain, who yanked his blaster from its holster and eagerly held it at the ready. With the press of a button the weapon fired, disintegrating the metal around the lock in a square formation. The ex-Time Agent grinned cockily, spinning the blaster around on his finger. Hartley wasn't one for weapons, particularly guns, but even she had to admit it was at least a little bit cool.

"Sonic blaster, fifty first century," the Doctor recognised it instantly. "Weapon Factories of Villengard?"

"You've been to the factories?" Jack seemed surprised.

"Once."

"Well, they're gone now, destroyed," he murmured morosely, seeming to regret this fact. "The main reactor went critical. Vaporised the lot."

"Like I said: once," the Doctor responded, and Hartley bit her lip to stifle a smirk – she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but the reality was almost certainly better. "There's a banana grove there now," he grinned cheerfully, the brewing storm gone from his eyes like writing wiped off a board. "I like bananas. Bananas are good."

"I'll take bananas over weapons any day of the week," Hartley agreed audaciously, and the Doctor shot her a pleased smile. She practically preened under the weight of it.

"Nice blast pattern," Rose commented as she followed the Doctor through the door. "Squareness gun."

"Yeah," Jack nodded proudly.

Rose gave her tongue-in-teeth grin. "I like it," she told him cheekily before disappearing after the Time Lord.

Hartley paused, waiting politely for Jack to move through the doorway, only to realise he'd paused in the jamb, peering at her with sparkling, flirty eyes. "So, Hartley," he said her name with quotations, like he didn't believe it were real, and she smothered a laugh. "What's your story?"

"No story," she denied simply with a shrug of her shoulders. "At least, none I'm gonna tell you."

"Ooh, classified – sexy," he wagged his eyebrows, and Hartley let out a uncontrollable snort, lifting a hand to stifle the sound.

"My name really is Hartley, you know," she said conversationally, gently prodding him in the arm until he stepped back, allowing her through the door. "If I was going to go by an alias, I'd pick something more cliché than that."

Jack didn't say anything more, though she felt his curious eyes on her back as though they held weight, and she tossed him a smile before turning to the Doctor expectantly.

"Now that we're all present," the alien huffed irritably. "What do you think?" Hartley moved into the room, blinking at the tipped over equipment and general mess of the space, as though something terrible had happened there – which she knew it must have.

"Something got out of here," Jack supplied.

"Yeah. And?"

"Something powerful. Angry."

"Powerful and angry."

"Or scared and confused," Hartley added under her breath, stepping over a pile consisting of shards of glass and reaching out for one of the many crayon drawings covering the otherwise bleak walls. The Doctor heard, however, and sent her a contemplative glance that she ignored, knowing she wouldn't be able to explain herself properly. It was just a sense she had, a feeling in her gut that told her not everything was as it appeared to be. It rarely ever was.

"A child?" Jack asked, keen eyes gliding over the children's toys, putting the pieces together. "I suppose this explains Mummy."

"How could a child do this?" Rose asked thickly, kicking at a fallen machine with her foot.

"Not without some kind of help, that's for sure," Hartley said, crouching down to pick up a piece of a snapped crayon, holding it up to the light and squinting at it, trying not to imagine the pain this child must have been in. The terror and desperation he must have felt.

A voice suddenly flooded the room as the Doctor hit the button on the tape machine. Constantine's voice was layered with static, and the answering words from the child only made Hartley feel cold.

"I want my mummy. Are you my mummy? I want my mummy! Are you my mummy? Mummy? Mummy?"

"Doctor, I've heard this voice before," Rose revealed with a frightened look on her face. Hartley wondered what she meant, as she hadn't, but she also figured there'd been a significant chunk of time where the three of them had been apart. Any number of things could have happened during those times.

"Me too," the Doctor told her solemnly.

"Always 'are you my mummy?'. Like he doesn't know. Why doesn't he know?" Rose asked the most pressing question. What did the child want? He was looking for his mummy, but why couldn't he find her? Had something happened to her? Something he was too young to comprehend?

"Are you there, mummy? Mummy?"

The repetitive words were chilling, and Hartley pulled her sleeves down to cover her hands, glancing warily over at the Doctor, who ran his hands down his face, blinking rapidly as he began to furiously pace, racing to solve the mystery before him. Racing to save the city. Racing to save mankind.

"Doctor?" Rose asked anxiously.

"Can you sense it?" the Doctor asked instead, and Hartley worried he was beginning to crack. Was it possible for him to get infected, not being human? Or did species not matter to this virus, whatever it was?

"Sense what?" Jack asked slowly, watching the alien carefully, like he wasn't sure the Doctor wasn't about to go flying off the deep end.

"Coming out of the walls. Can you feel it?" the Doctor elaborated, though it didn't do much good, all three humans stared back uncomprehendingly. "Funny little human brains. How do you get around in those things?"

"When he's stressed, he likes to insult species," Rose mentioned with a roll of her eyes, glancing over at Hartley with a small, shared smirk. "He cuts himself shaving, he does half an hour on life forms he's cleverer than."

"He trips on a rock, he takes an hour to ramble about which world-renowned scientists he could beat in a trivia contest," Hartley added jovially. It was nice to spend a few seconds where she wasn't in the suspended pain of the unknown, wasn't questioning if she'd ever see the sunrise again. "Spoiler alert: it's all of them," she said impishly. Even stressed as he was, Jack gave a small chortle of laughter.

The Doctor ignored their teasing, continuing on distractedly. "There are these children living rough round the bomb sites. They come out during air-raids looking for food. Suppose they were there when this thing, whatever it was, landed?" the Doctor rambled, striving to solve the puzzle before him, talking with his hands as he paced.

"It was a med-ship," Jack interjected, again on the defensive. "It was harmless."

"Yes, you keep saying harmless," the Doctor muttered with a hint of sarcastic bitterness. "Suppose one of them was affected; altered?"

"Altered how?"

"I'm here!" the creepy childish voice proclaimed, but something about it was different this time. It was closer, louder, more spine-chilling than before. Subtly, hoping she was wrong the whole time, Hartley leant around the Doctor only to catch sight of the doorway, where a small child stood in the doorway, gas mask secured on his face, eyes just two gaping black holes. She reached out blindly, searching for traction, something she could hold that would keep her grounded. Once more she ended up grasping tightly onto the sleeve of Jack's coat.

"Hartley?" the Captain asked with a furrowed brow, feeling her grip tighten. He looked away from the Doctor to frown at her in concern.

"It's afraid. Terribly afraid and powerful. It doesn't know it yet, but it will do," the Doctor continued obliviously. "It's got the power of a god, and I just sent it to its room."

"I'm here. Can't you see me?" the child repeated, and a chill of fear ran down Hartley's spine like a droplet of iced water.

"What's that noise?" Rose asked shakily. A terrible clicking had filled the room, and Hartley winced, understanding now what it was.

"End of the tape," the Doctor was grinning manically, like this was the most exciting thing to happen to him in nine hundred years. Hartley wished he wasn't such a glutton for punishment. "It ran out about thirty seconds ago," he told them merrily.

"I'm here, now. Can't you see me?" the child sang.

"I sent it to its room. This is its room," the Doctor whispered gleefully.

The Doctor spun around, moving out of the way so all of them could peer at the gas mask zombie standing on the other side of the divider. Jack finally understood why Hartley was so rigid. She only gripped him tighter. She was afraid; being faced with such an...empty child...itwould frighten anyone, she reasoned. She wasn't being pathetic, Rose looked just as haunted – which, in a sick way, made her feel a little bit better.

"Are you my mummy? Mummy?" it sang with its head cocked at them, exuding an innocence that was somehow also creepy.

"Doctor?" Rose asked with a trembling voice, noticing how it seemed to be looking directly at her.

"Okay, on my signal, make for the door," Jack said bracingly. There was a beat, and then he whipped out his weapon with a shouted, "now!"

Another second passed and everyone at once seemed to realise that the object Jack was aiming at the child wasn't his weapon at all, but instead a harmless banana, about the same shape, size and weight as his squareness gun.

"Mummy?" the zombie asked slowly just as the Doctor yanked the stolen blaster from his belt and aimed it at the wall, instantly creating a large, predictably square, hole for them to escape through.

"Go now!" the Time Lord shouted, all but pushing them through the hole. Hartley didn't need to be told twice, tripping her way into the next hallway and dragging a stumbling Rose after her. "Don't drop the banana!" he added in a yell to Jack.

"Why not?!" Jack shouted back in a confused panic.

"Good source of potassium!" the Doctor shouted in response, and if Hartley hadn't been so scared, she might have snorted at the comment.

The victims were coming at them from every angle. Hartley's heart raced inside her chest, adrenaline making her body flush. Typically, while the Doctor and Jack bickered about sonic devices, the girls was the ones to get them out of the hot water. Just as the child burst through the wall, plaster spraying everywhere, Hartley reached over and swiped Jack's blaster from the Doctor's belt. Her hands were shaking, and she never was a very good shot, so with a shout of warning she tossed it at Rose, hoping she'd have better luck.

"Going down!" the blonde shouted in brief warning before shooting at the floor, all four of them dropping through the new hole and onto a pile on the floor below. Hartley pushed away from Jack, who grunted under both her and Rose's weight, scrambling to her feet.

They were in some kind of storeroom, temporarily safe from the gas mask zombies. Jack took the gun back the moment he was standing, repairing the gaping hole in the ceiling, sealing off that point of entry, at the least. Hopefully it would buy them time to figure out their next move.

The Doctor shuffled over to the door, pulling out his sonic and aiming it at the lock. "Okay, that door should hold it for a bit," the Doctor announced once he'd sonicked the lock, and Rose exhaled sharply.

"The door?" Jack hissed incredulously. "The wall didn't stop it!"

"Well, it's got to find us first! Come on, we're not done yet! Assets, assets!"

"Well, I've got a banana, and in a pinch, you could put up some shelves," Jack said snidely, but it was like water off a duck's back.

"Window," the Doctor said with purpose.

"Barred. Sheer drop outside. Seven stories," Jack said before the alien could so much as get to it.

"And no other exits," Rose groaned, dropping her head in her hands.

"Well, the assets conversation went in a flash, didn't it?" Jack murmured slyly.

"So, where'd you pick this one up, then?" the Doctor asked with a sneer. Rose looked affronted, and Hartley made a mental note to berate the Doctor later, when they weren't three inches of steel away from being turned into zombies.

"She was hanging from a barrage balloon, I had an invisible spaceship. I never stood a chance," crooned Jack playfully.

"Okay. One, we've got to get out of here. Two, we can't get out of here. Have I missed anything?" the Doctor was saying, and Hartley frowned at him in irritation. He could try being a tad more positive, couldn't he? Besides, wasn't he the idea guy? He should've been coming up with solutions, not listing their current problems.

"Yeah," Rose breathed, spinning around to stare at the chair where the American had just been sitting, but now wasn't. "Jack just disappeared."

"Good riddance," the Time Lord murmured disinterestedly, seeming to think very little of this fact.

"Seriously though," she hissed back, beginning to pace. "He's vanished into thin air." She paused, spinning around to shoot Hartley an exasperated look. "Why is it always the great looking ones who do that?"

"Good question," she murmured cheekily.

"I'm making an effort not to be insulted," the Doctor said curtly as she snickered unabashedly, eyes sliding across to her with a glare.

"I mean, men," Rose corrected lamely.

"Okay, thanks, that really helped," he replied sarcastically.

The radio in the corner began to crackle, making the blonde flinch as they all whirled around to stare at it warily. "Rose? Hartley? Doctor?" Jack's accented voice filtered through the speakers, making Rose's eyes widen. "Can you hear me? I'm back on my ship. I used the emergency teleport. Sorry I couldn't take you – it's security-keyed to my molecular structure. But I'm working on it. Hang in there."

"We'll be waiting, Captain," Hartley said with a relieved smile, and the alien beside her shot her an irritated glare, like she was betraying them all by being slightly flirty. She couldn't help it, Jack was handsome and fun, besides, she had a good feeling about the bloke.

"How're you speaking to us?" the Doctor sounded accusatory.

"Om-Com," Jack replied cheerfully. "I can call anything with a speaker grill."

"Now there's a coincidence," the alien murmured thoughtfully. "The child can Om-Com, too."

"He can?" Rose blinked.

"Anything with a speaker grill," he confirmed. "Even the TARDIS' phone."

"What, you mean the child can phone us?"

"And I can hear you. Coming to find you. Coming to find you..." the child's creepy voice sang over the radio, breaking through Jack's broadcast with ease. Chills broke out along Hartley's arms, and she shook her head, trying to pull herself together lest the Doctor see her looking terrified. She'd never live that one down.

"Doctor, can you hear that?" the Captain asked, and Hartley clenched her fists around the bunches of her sleeves.

"Loud and clear."

"I'll try to block out the signal. Least I can do," he said, and a moment later soft swinger music was filtering through the speakers. "Remember this one, Rose?" he asked cheekily, and Hartley could just imagine the coy look gracing his pretty face.

The Doctor turned to look at Rose incredulously, and at least she had the decency to blush. "Our song," she explained meekly, spinning around and moving away from the glaring Time Lord.

"Humans," the Doctor said the word like it were the punchline to a joke, shaking his head and returning his attention to the bars on the window, the sonic's buzzing filling the cramped little storeroom.

Hartley let her focus wander, heading over to the far wall and eyeing the stacks of folders laying on some shelves. She swiped one from the top of the pile, cracking it open and running her eyes down the page for lack of anything better to do.

The Doctor and Rose began to talk, bickering as they sometimes did. Hartley let them have their moment, content not to interrupt as she subtly watched them banter about Captain Jack and dancing.

"If he ever was a Captain, he's been defrocked," the Doctor was saying, and Hartley glanced up as she felt a slight tingle under her skin.

"Yeah? Shame I missed that," Rose responded slyly, and not a moment after the words had left their lips were they instantaneously transported to Jack's spaceship. Hartley stumbled, blinking at the new surroundings before turning to look at Jack, who was staring at her with a sly smirk. They both turned back to stare at Rose and the Doctor, who were too busy staring into each other's eyes to notice the change in scenery.

They looked completely enraptured by one another, and Hartley felt a flare of something that wasn't quite jealousy, but instead maybe envy? Was she a third wheel? How had that even happened?

"Actually, I quit. Nobody takes my frock," Jack spoke cockily, smirk practically glued into place. "Most people notice when they've been teleported. You guys are so sweet," he glanced at Hartley, the pair sharing a split-second of mirth before moving on. "Sorry about the delay. I had to take the nav-com offline to override the teleport security." Rose and the Doctor split apart, the former blushing ever so slightly while the former straightened his jacket with a grunt, before they recovered and quickly barrelled on.

"You can spend ten minutes overriding your own protocols? Maybe you should remember whose ship it is," the Doctor quipped snidely.

"Oh, I do. She was gorgeous. Like I told her, be back in five minutes."

"This is a Chula ship."

"Yeah, just like that medical transporter. Only this one is dangerous."

The Doctor looked about ready to roll his eyes, but as it was he merely held out a hand and snapped his fingers loudly. Immediately a soft golden glow enveloped his hands.

"The hell is that?" Hartley demanded in surprise, shifting backwards as she watched the sparkles move in time with his hand.

"They're what fixed my hands up," Rose supplied easily. "Jack called them, um..." she trailed off, struggling to recall.

"Nanogenes," the Doctor said with ease, eyeing the glow through a narrowed, calculated gaze. "Sub-atomic robots. There's millions of them in here, see? Burned my hand on the console when we landed. All better now. They activate when the bulk head's sealed. Check you out for damage, fix any physical flaws," he paused, spinning around to look at Jack through a stern glare. "Take us to the crash site. I need to see your 'space junk'."

"As soon as I get the nav-com back online. Make yourself comfortable. Carry on with whatever it was you were doing," Jack added coyly.

"We were talking about dancing," now the Doctor was the one who sounded defensive.

"It didn't look like talking."

"It didn't feel like dancing," Rose added slyly.

The Doctor looked exasperated, but for once he didn't retort, merely rolling his eyes and turning away to examine a panel towards the back of the ship. Hartley moved forwards, perching delicately beside the console where Jack was working away, watching him halfheartedly as she swung her legs underneath her.

"What about you then, Hartley?" the Captain asked conversationally, though the majority of his attention was still on the keypad and buttons in front of him. "What's your story, really?" It was the second time he'd asked now, and she was exasperated by his persistence.

She smiled, though the expression was heavier than it should have been. "The truth is that it's complicated."

"Try me," he responded, glancing up to shoot her a smirk.

"Doctor says we're 'cosmically magnetised'," she told him honestly, relaxing against the back of the Captain's chair. "Basically, he's stuck with me following after him like a little lost puppy, and I'm stuck stranded from my family and my home," she said, voice carefully detached and free from emotion. The memory of Rose and the Doctor staring deep and intense into one another's eyes flickered through her head, and she grimaced.

But her words seemed to have piqued the Captain's interest.

"You get to travel, right? That's what Rose said – that you're travellers. I'd say that's a pretty fair trade-off," he said, focus still on his task, although every now and again he'd glance up at Hartley, whose gaze was distant and far away.

"I guess it is," she hummed in vague reply.

She got the feeling Jack understood what she was saying, but he didn't respond for a few moments, continuing on with his important task. "What about your family? Where're they?" he finally asked, curious.

Hartley paused, hit with the usual stab of pain she felt whenever her family was brought up. She could go back home, she knew that, but who knew how long she'd get with them before she was yanked back through time and space into the TARDIS, the universe hellbent on keeping her and the cranky Time Lord stuck together like glue?

"London," she eventually answered him, giving a weak shrug of her shoulders. "In the year 2005."

"Rough," he nodded consolingly, and it didn't feel as fake as it probably would have on anyone else. "And what about those two?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject as he gestured over his shoulder at Rose and the Doctor, who were stood at the back of the ship, murmuring about one thing or another.

"Rose is a great friend … probably my best friend – but the Doctor? It's...complicated."

"Ooh, is there some gossip I need to hear?" he asked playfully, pausing his frantic typing long enough to shoot her a sly, goading sort of smirk.

She laughed at his words, the amusement she felt pleasant, but startling all the same. "No, no," she shook her head. "Nothing like that. Just...I think I annoy him, and he didn't exactly choose me travel with him, so sometimes I think he resents me for being around." She surprised herself by how much she was spilling, but realised that every word of it was true.

She remembered Rose's words from the week before. You make him want to be a better person … and I think he kind of hates you for it.

She knew Rose had been right, but at the same time, that didn't make living with it any easier.

"Well, if you were stuck with me, I'd consider it a privilege," Jack told her in a flirty voice, glancing up to wink at her, but as she caught his eye, she found a sincerity in them that left her astounded. He meant what he was saying, and it went beyond just flirtatious banter.

She felt a strange kinship to the Captain in the moment, like a tether had been created, binding the pair together throughout time and space. It reminded her of something, something almost recent, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what that was.

She didn't know Jack from a bar of soap, and yet somehow, at the same time, she felt like she'd always known him. He was familiar to her in an unexpected, unexplainable way, and she wondered why that was.

She prepared herself to respond, not quite sure what she was going to say, only for Rose to appear beside her, unaware she was interrupting a rather important conversation. "So, you used to be a Time Agent, yeah? And now you're trying to con them?" she asked Jack bluntly, brimming with interest.

Jack hesitated, still burning with curiosity from Hartley's honest words, but he shelved the pressing itch for information, reminding himself that he needed to focus on what was in front of him, instead of the strange woman's even stranger past. "If it makes me sound any better, it's not for the money," he answered the blonde, and Hartley cracked a small smile at his tone.

"For what, then?" Rose pressed.

"Woke up one day when I was still working for them, found they'd stolen two years of my memories," Jack admitted tensely, jaw clicking with frustration. "I'd like them back."

"They stole your memories?" Rose was shocked and horrified, like she couldn't imagine anybody ever being so cruel.

"Two years of my life," he confirmed solemnly. "No idea what I did. Your friend over there doesn't trust me, and for all I know, he's right not to." He sounded so morose, Hartley's chest ached for him.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," she told him sincerely, leaning in closer and meeting his eyes, conveying how heartfelt she really was. This time he was the one blown away by her sincerity, and he blinked at her, feeling stunned and vulnerable in the same instant, like she really understood what had happened, and appreciated how difficult it had be. "Besides, I like how you turned out," she added playfully, not wanting the moment to get too serious.

Jack grinned, the expression wide and wolfish, appreciation shining in his eyes. "Okay, we're good to go," he said louder, capturing the Doctor's attention from where it was focused on a series of monitors over on the other side of the small ship. "Crash site?" he asked, spinning around in his chair to peer at the trio aboard his ship with that charming grin settled back in its rightful place.

---

"There it is," Jack murmured to them quietly, leading them along the train tracks towards the crash site, where a large object was covered by cloth, surrounded by barbed wire fences and stoic guards. "Hey, they've got Algy on duty," he said with interest. "It must be important."

"We've got to get past him," the Doctor said, calculating eyes moving over the guards pacing up and down the fence line, alert and ready.

"Are the words 'distract the guard' heading in my general direction?" Rose questioned like it was something she heard all the time. Hartley wasn't sure they'd ever been in a situation where they'd had to use Rose to distract anyone before, but she figured there was a first time for everything, and the girl didn't exactly seem opposed to the idea.

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Jack shook his head mildly.

"Don't worry, I can handle it," she argued indignantly, as though her sexual-prowess was somehow in question here.

"I've gotten to know Algy quite well since I've been in town. Trust me, you're not his type," he told her with a knowing smirk.

"What, you want Hartley to do it then?" she asked, slightly incredulous, but Hartley was willing to overlook that fact. "Are you saying she's prettier than me?" Rose added, critical and sharp.

Jack paused. "This feels like a trap," he muttered and even the Doctor looked sympathetic for his current predicament.

"Oh, it's most definitely a trap," Hartley confirmed through a smirk.

Jack sighed, "trust me, she won't do the job either." He paused again, squeezing the girls each on the shoulder before surprising them both by pushing past them and heading in the guard's direction. "I'll distract him," he told them giddily, and Hartley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "Don't wait up."

Rose looked more than astonished, just completely blown away by what had just occurred. "Relax, he's a fifty first century guy," the Doctor smirked in Jack's direction, a knowing sort of look to which Rose could only respond by staring. "He's just a bit more flexible when it comes to dancing."

"How flexible?" she asked through a perplexed frown.

"Well, by his time, you lot have spread out across half the galaxy," he explained.

"Meaning?" her voice was an octave too high.

Hartley laughed again, head tilted back as she giggled freely. "So many species, so little time," the Doctor answered with a cheeky grin.

Looking over at Rose, Hartley noted that the girl was gaping, still struggling to come to terms with this piece of information about their handsome new tagalong. "People can be pan, Rose," she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"But he's so...flirty..."

"It's an aspect of his personality, not an indication of his sexuality," she told her flatly. "Besides, who hasn't had gay thoughts?"

Rose looked like this was a subject they very much were going to be bringing back up later on, when they were back within the safety of the TARDIS. "So what, that's what we do when we get out there? That's our mission?" she was asking the Doctor, incredulous and still reeling from the surprise of Jack's pansexuality. "We seek new life, and-and-"

"Dance," the Doctor supplied cheekily. Rose still appeared shellshocked.

"Is it really that surprising?" Hartley asked around an amused grin. "He does seem the type, doesn't he?"

"I guess he does, when I think of it like that," she murmured back, and the trio fell into silence as they watched Jack converse with this Algy fellow, only for the younger guard to suddenly collapse to the ground without warning.

Instantly the Doctor was rushing to his side, arms outstretched to stop anyone from getting near him. "Stay back!" he warned seriously, and the other guards hovered unsurely over their friend's still form. The alien turned to his companions, a grim expression on his lined face. "The effect's become air-borne, it's accelerating."

"What's keeping us safe?" Rose questioned, a note of panic to her sweet voice.

The Doctor didn't respond apart from a reluctant sort of grimace, and at once Hartley understood. "Absolutely nothing," she murmured softly, and the blonde reached out to grasp her sleeve, holding on tightly, finding comfort in the familiar contact. The customary sound of the air raid sirens pierced the still night air like a bullet, and as one everybody turned to look up at the pitch black sky.

"Here they come again," the Captain groaned, wincing up at the clouds like he was damning the Nazis to hell, which was definitely something Hartley could get on board with.

"All we need," Rose agreed. She paused, spinning around to stare at him wildly. "Didn't you say a bomb was going to land here?!"

"Never mind about that," the Doctor dismissed with a wave of his hand. "If the contaminant's airborne now, there's hours left."

"For what?" Jack asked tightly.

"Till nothing, forever. For the entire human race."

The group fell completely silent, no sound but the sirens meeting their ears, until suddenly they all noticed the soft sounds of a young voice singing over the top of the other horrifying noises gracing the night air.

"And can anyone else hear singing?" The Doctor turned to head for the barn to the right where the soft song was coming from. Hartley took the initiative and moved over to the lights surrounding the crashed Chula ship, fumbling around in the dark for a moment before finding the switch and lighting the area up.

The others appeared by her side shortly after, all congregating around the ship. "You see? Just an ambulance," Jack said matter-of-factly, uncovering the ambulance so the Doctor could properly see it as he reappeared, a tired looking Nancy by his side, rubbing her wrists as she moved. "They've been trying to get in," he added, running a gloved hand over the scratched metal of the outside.

"Of course they have," the Doctor scoffed, "they think they've got their hands on Hitler's latest secret weapon." He paused, noticing that the Captain was hurriedly tapping at the keypad, no doubt keying in the access codes. "What're you doing?"

"The sooner you see this thing is empty, the sooner you'll know I had nothing to do with it," he explained shortly, continuing his task. Hartley saw the panel begin to spark, and leapt up onto her toes to wrap her arms around Jack's shoulders and yank him sharply away from the ship just before it sparked brightly, a loud bang echoing around the clearing they were in. Jack glanced at his hands warily, which would have surely been burnt had she not intervened. "I owe you one, Pretty Lady," he told her gratefully, and she nodded back with a small smile, trying not to blush at the nickname.

The ship started beeping, a light on its face beginning to blink.

"Doctor, what is that?" Rose gasped, gesturing worriedly to the hospital doors across from them were beginning to crack open, due to the force of the patients inside battering them from behind. The zombies were coming.

"Captain, secure those gates!" the Doctor ordered loudly, beginning to work on the crashed ship himself.

"Why?" Jack questioned with a frown.

"Just do it!" the Time Lord snapped back sharply. Jack hesitated only a moment before nodding and rushing over to the towering gates. "Nancy, how'd you get in here?"

"I cut the wire," the young girl told him quickly, bewildered by the question.

"Show Rose," he commanded, tossing his blonde companion his screwdriver, which she caught with surprisingly deft hands. "Setting two-thousand-four-hundred-and-twenty-eight D."

"What?" Rose was more than a little confused, staring down at the sonic in confusion.

"It reattaches barbed wire," the Doctor snapped back impatiently, having no time to walk her through everything step by step. "Go!"

"What do you need me to do?" Hartley asked readily, cracking her knuckles as she prepared to be assigned a task.

The Time Lord paused, and for one heart stopping moment Hartley thought he was going to shrug her off and push her away, but thankfully he seemed to change his mind, nodding at her to move closer. "Grasp the end of this and pull," he instructed quickly, and she was endlessly relieved as she did as she was told, grabbing the panel of metal and using every ounce of strength in her body to pull.

The Doctor stopped them to hit a few more buttons, then gestured for her to yank again. They managed to pry the panel off just as Jack made his way back to them, puffing lightly from exertion. "It's empty. Look at it," he said simply, pointing to the empty ship like it proved his point. Like it proved none of this was his fault.

"What do you expect in a Chula medical transporter? Bandages? Cough drops?" the Doctor snapped back sarcastically. "Rose?"

The blonde shook her head, not knowing, but the Doctor showed an ounce more patience than usual as he held up his hands, wiggling his fingers to draw her attention. "Nanogenes!" she shouted, excited by the revelation.

"It wasn't empty, Captain," the Doctor all but growled, switching moods like he might hats. "There were enough nanogenes in there to rebuild a species."

It too a second to sink in, but Jack seemed to understand in the same instant that Hartley did. She buried her face in her hands, eyes shut tightly as she realised exactly what had happened, exactly why all these innocent people were being converted into zombies.

"Oh, God," Jack groaned as he, too, put the pieces together, guilt flashing across his face in a flash.

"Getting it now, are we?" the Doctor asked cruelly. "When the ship crashes, the nanogenes escape. Billions upon billions of them, ready to fix all the cuts and bruises in the whole world. But what they find first is a dead child, probably killed earlier that night, and wearing a gas mask."

Hartley seemed to be the only one to notice the way Nancy's face twisted in pure pain at the mention of her brother. Heart bleeding for the girl, she subtly shuffled away from the group, inching closer to Nancy and gently placing an arm around her shoulders, squeezing softly, just letting her know someone was there with her, supporting her. Letting her know she wasn't alone.

"And they brought him back to life? They can do that?" Rose was asking, but Hartley was more focused on the way tears were appearing in Nancy's eyes and the way she hung her head with grief.

"What's life?" asked the Doctor. "Life's easy. A quirk of matter. Nature's way of keeping meat fresh. Nothing to a nanogene. One problem, though. These nanogenes, they're not like the ones on your ship. This lot have never seen a human being before. Don't know what a human being's supposed to look like. All they've got to go on is one little body, and there's not a lot left. But they carry right on. They do what they're programmed to do. They patch it up. Can't tell what's gas mask and what's skull, but they do their best. Then off they fly, off they go, work to be done. Because, you see, now they think they know what people should look like, and it's time to fix all the rest. And they won't ever stop. They won't ever, ever stop. The entire human race is going to be torn down and rebuilt in the form of one terrified child looking for its mother, and nothing in the world can stop it!"

Jack looked as horrified as everybody felt, the weight of his mistake resting heavily on his shoulders. "I didn't know," he said, panic spread across his features. Hartley felt bad for him, but in the same instant, it was still his fault. She squeezed Nancy again when the girl sniffled, rubbing a hand along the length of her arm, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.

"But, we fix it, don't we?" Hartley asked with a flare of hope.

"What?" the Doctor snapped, looking like the last thing he needed in that moment was Hartley asking stupid questions. But it didn't feel like a stupid question, not to her.

"Well, we've come from the future, and nobody there is a gas-mask zombie," she said logically. "So obviously we do fix it, otherwise the future wouldn't be the same as it is now."

"It doesn't work like that," the Time Lord told her impatiently. "Time can be rewritten."

Still not sure she completely understood, she could only nod and fall back into silence, rubbing Nancy's arm in weak comfort. She glanced to her right, spying the patients lined up around the fence and gasping when she realised they were all but out of time. "Guys!" she called, drawing their attention to the problem.

Rose cursed under her breath, and the Doctor ran his hands over his buzzed hair. "It's bringing the gas mask people here, isn't it?" Rose figured out, glancing over warily at the Doctor.

"The ship thinks it's under attack. It's calling up the troops. Standard protocol," he told her flatly.

"But the gas mask people aren't troops."

"They are now. This is a battle-field ambulance. The nanogenes don't just fix you up, they get you ready for the front line; equip you, programme you."

"That's why the child's so strong, and why it could do that phoning thing."

"It's a fully equipped Chula warrior, yes. All that weapons tech in the hands of a hysterical four year old looking for his mummy. And now there's an army of them."

"Why don't they attack?" Jack asked, shifting his weight as he stared out at the gathered threat.

"Good little soldiers, waiting for their commander," the Doctor sounded overwhelmed, bitter with the knowledge that there wasn't anything he could do to save them.

"The child?"

"Jamie," Nancy snapped suddenly, and everyone turned to look at her, watching as she shrugged off Hartley's arm and wiped angrily at her tears. "Not 'the child'. Jamie," she told them, voice hard and passionate. Hartley couldn't imagine how difficult this was for her, and now that she didn't have her to hug, she wrapped her arms around her own middle in an embrace.

"So, how long until the bomb falls?" Rose asked, glancing up at the dark sky in vague concern.

"Any second," Jack announced, breathless with worry.

"What's the matter, Captain? A bit too close to the volcano for you?" the Doctor asked snidely.

He turned away, beginning to talk to Nancy in low tones. Hartley wasn't so sure she trusted someone like the Doctor to be alone with Nancy, who in that moment was a fragile mess – the last thing she needed was the Doctor's callous comments in her ear. But the Doctor cast her a meaningful look that told her to give them a moment, and she relented, squeezing Nancy one more time before shuffling away. She moved over to Jack, who continued to stare up at the sky in a panic.

"The bomb?" she asked casually, as though inquiring about the weather.

"We don't have time for this," Jack told her in a hushed voice, eyes on the dark shapes of the rumbling planes above them, which she supposed was an answer in and of itself. "We need to go now, or we're all gonna get barbecued."

"If we don't fix this, it's not going to matter anyway," she murmured back just as quietly, head tilted back to look him in the eye. "Either we fix things, or the human race is doomed."

"And it's all my fault," he finished remorsefully.

She lifted her shoulders in a non-committal shrug. "Maybe it is," she told him gently. "But we all make mistakes. But something tells me you'll make up for it, one day, somehow."

"But the bomb-"

"I have faith," she said only to give herself pause. Faith in what, exactly? Or who? She didn't even know. All she did know was that this wasn't the end of her journey; of that much, she was certain.

"What do you-?" the device on his wrist beeped loudly, interrupting him, and he shot up in a panic, whirling around to pin the Doctor with a frightened look. "Doctor, that bomb. We've got seconds!" he hissed desperately.

"You can teleport us out," Rose suggested hopefully.

"Not you guys. The nav-com's back online. Going to take too long to override the protocols."

"So it's volcano day," the Doctor said without looking away from Nancy. "Do what you've got to do."

Hartley glanced back at Jack, shooting him a comforting smile. The only expression he could make back was a guilty grimace before he hit a button and disappeared into thin air. She understood him leaving, if she'd had an out like that, she couldn't say for certain that she wouldn't take it just the same as him.

Rose looked beyond crushed by his exit, and Hartley felt annoyed more at the fact that he'd hurt Rose's feelings than anything else.

There was movement from the corner of her eye, and she turned, watching, absolutely wordless as Nancy fell to her knees beside Jamie, proclaiming for all to hear that she was his mummy. Hartley hadn't expected it, and she blinked in shock, watching as Nancy grasped her son and pulled him into her body, embracing him tightly. It made Hartley's eyes water, but she blinked back her tears and watched in awe as a cloud of nanogenes swept them up in a glittering golden haze.

"Come on, please," the Doctor was begging, staring at them hopefully. "Come on, you clever little nanogenes. Figure it out! The mother, she's the mother. It's got to be enough information. Figure it out!"

Rose was completely confused, staring in utter bewilderment, not sure whether she should be excited or afraid. "What's happening?" she finally broke and asked, staring at the clouded mother and son warily.

"See? Recognising the same DNA," the Doctor physically couldn't have been smiling any wider.

"Did we fix it?" Hartley asked, barely daring to hope.

"We didn't," he shook his head, still smiling with all the brilliance of the sun. "Nancy did."

There seemed to be a surge of energy, and suddenly Jamie let go of his mummy, who fell to the ground in exhaustion. Hartley was quick to leap over to the young girl's side, instantly reaching down to check she was okay, gently helping her up off the hard ground, subtly checking her over for injuries or signs of a growing gas mask.

The Doctor let her help Nancy while his sole focus was on the boy. "Oh, come on. Give me a day like this. Give me this one," he begged the universe quietly, in his own little world, and Hartley was momentarily surprised by how endearing she found it.

The Time Traveller cautiously reached out, placing his hands on either side of the gas mask and gently pulling. To everyone's great surprise and immense relief, the mask slipped off with all the ease of switch, coming off in one smooth movement and revealing the most adorable little face that Hartley would swear she had ever seen.

"Ha-ha!" the Doctor cheered, overwhelmed with joy as he swept the little boy up into his arms, swinging him around and making him giggle, as though this entire nightmare of a night had been just that; a nightmare. "Welcome back! Twenty years till pop music - you're gonna love it!" the Doctor told Jamie brightly, placing him tenderly back on the ground.

"What happened?" Nancy sniffled, lifting her head from where it had been sagged into Hartley's shoulder, now staring at her tiny son in wonder.

"The nanogenes recognised the superior information, the parent DNA. They didn't change you because you changed them! Ha-ha! Mother knows best!" The Doctor was still beaming at them all as he set little Jamie back on his feet, the boy instantly finding his way to his mother's side.

"Oh, Jamie," Nancy cooed, hugging him to her as tightly as possible, resting her chin on his blond head of hair and squeezing her eyes shut, basking in the feeling of holding her son in her arms.

"Doctor, that bomb," Rose gasped, remembering the threat suddenly. The reminder made Hartley flinch, expecting the bomb to drop on them and end everything they'd just worked so hard to preserve.

"Taken care of it," the Doctor grinned calmly, and Hartley stopped wincing to pull a confused look in his direction.

"How?" she asked slowly, wondering what other tricks he could possibly have up his sleeve.

"Psychology."

There was a high pitched ringing sound that surrounded them, one they could all identify as a bomb hurtling straight towards them. Hartley flinched into Rose, as though she might actually be able to protect her once the thing detonated. Just as they were sure it would hit, a spaceship swooped in and caught the deadly weapon in its light beam. There was a flicker and Jack appeared sitting astride the bomb, grinning down at them brightly.

"Good lad!" the Doctor shouted up to him.

"The bomb's already commenced detonation," he yelled back. "I've put it in stasis but it won't last long."

"Change of plan," the Time Lord said quickly. "Don't need the bomb. Can you get rid of it, safely as you can?"

Jack hesitated for one tenth of a second, then turned his alluring gaze to the blonde of the group. "Rose?" he called happily.

"Yeah?"

"Love the teeshirt!" He grinned, and Rose adjusted the shirt with a happy smile. "And Hartley?" he added, surprising the older girl, who blinked up at him with raised eyebrows. "You'll find your family again. I think they're closer than you think!" he beamed charmingly, sending her another one of his never ending winks. "Goodbye!"

And then he was gone. The Doctor and Rose were talking behind her, but she was too focused on the disappearing dot that was Jack's ship to bother paying attention. Something was wrong, why couldn't he have gotten rid of the bomb, then come back? Why did their goodbye have to be so sudden? Why did she have a sinking feeling in her gut, like something very bad was going to happen?

"Everybody lives, Rose. Just this once, Hartley, everybody lives!" the Doctor was shouting, stealing her focus back, and she turned, surprised he didn't burst into song with how happy he was.

Telling herself that everything was fine, Hartley forced herself to let it go, and laughed along with a giddy Doctor, hopping over one of the tracks so she could launch herself at Rose, dragging her into a warm, celebratory embrace. Rose let out a peal of laughter, hugging the redhead back tightly, both brimming with delight, just as the Doctor was.

All of the patients lining the gates were slowly beginning to get to their feet again, muttering confused words to each other, as those who had previously been missing limbs now found all their bodies completely intact.

"I can't believe it," Rose grinned as the two girls pulled apart, clapping her hands together with joy. "I can't believe it all worked out."

"Believe it, Rosie," Hartley said affectionately, ruffling the younger woman's hair with glee. Rose was so exuberant, she didn't even care, beaming at her happily and playfully ducking the gesture, reaching over to return it.

"Right, you lot. Lots to do. Beat the Germans, save the world. Don't forget the welfare state!" the Doctor shouted to the crowd as he backtracked, propping himself up on the empty ambulance and beginning to the hit buttons on the side. "Setting this to self-destruct, soon as everybody's clear. History says there was an explosion here. Who am I to argue with history?" he spoke to the pair of them quietly, eyes on his work.

"Usually the first in line," Rose quipped, and he looked up long enough to shoot her a happy, carefree grin.

Things wrapped up quickly, the Doctor making sure everything was fine as they all prepared to head back to the TARDIS. Hartley was quick to seek out Jamie and Nancy, sweeping the crowd until she spotted them by the barn, the mum fussing about with the little boy's hair, staring down at him, eyes shining with love. The Doctor was stood beside them, murmuring something she couldn't hear. He left as she approached, moving over to a group of elderly ladies who looked more than a little bewildered.

Hartley hurried over to the mother and son, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in her enthusiasm. Nancy glanced up at her with a small smile. "D'you mind?" Hartley asked her gently, and Nancy quickly nodded, smiling back widely.

This was a different girl to the one Hartley had met earlier, this girl was happy, this girl was alive.

She dropped to her knees so she was at eye level with the little boy, who looked a little tired, but otherwise no worse for wear. "Hello there," she greeted him softly, unable to help the ear to ear grin on her face. "I'm Hart, and it's very nice to meet you, Jamie."

"Hart?" the boy repeated, an adorably confused look on his tiny features. He reached up to thump at his own chest. "Like my heart?"

"Exactly like your heart," she laughed gently, running her hands down his back soothingly. He was so cute, she could just eat him up. "I've got to go now," she told him regretfully. "But I wanted to make sure you knew I think you're really, really brave, and that you have a great mummy."

"Yup," Jamie nodded his head in agreement, leaning into Nancy's side.

"Hart!" the Doctor's voice sounded over the people around them, and she glanced over her shoulder to look at where he and Rose were standing by the fence line, waiting for her to catch up.

"I've gotta go now," she told the pair of Londoners apologetically. "But you be good for your mummy, you hear?" she added before making a silly face, and the boy laughed as she ruffled his hair much as she had done with Rose moments before. She stood to her feet smiling kindly at Nancy, whose eyes were still shining with tears – but the happy kind. "Everything's going to be okay," she promised her gently, sending her a final parting smile before spinning around and hurrying after her companions.

"These nanogenes," Rose began as they began the long walk back to the TARDIS. "What year are they invented?"

"I dunno the exact date," the Doctor replied casually. "Around the fortieth century, give or take?"

"You'd think they'd have worked out the kinks a bit more thoroughly, don't you?" she asked.

"They do more good than harm, honestly," he told her reassuringly. "Incidences like these are rare as chocolate milk from a cow. Well, in this century, anyway. That reminds me, there's a farm on New Earth I'd like to take you to..."

"Besides, everybody lived, Rose," Hartley added as the Doctor lost himself in his daydreams of their next adventure, nudging the blonde gently in the side. "Don't focus on the negatives, not on a day like today."

The Doctor seemed to only get happier the closer they got to the TARDIS, and he was practically giggling as he pushed his way into the ship, all but skipping up the ramp, high on their win."The nanogenes will clean up the mess and switch themselves off, because I just told them to. Nancy and Jamie will go to Doctor Constantine for help, ditto. All in all, all things considered, fantastic!"

"Look at you, beaming away like you're Father Christmas," Rose laughed happily.

"Who says I'm not, red-bicycle-when-you-were-twelve?" his reply had Hartley in stitches. She grasped the railing as she trilled with laughter at the mystified look on Rose's face, practically gaping at him where he stood beaming by the console. "And everybody lives, Rose! Everybody lives! I need more days like this," he continued like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell.

She wondered whether he knew what she'd gotten for Christmas when she was twelve, but decided to wait until later to ask. Hartley settled down, watching the Doctor with an undeniably fond expression as he flitted around the console, sending them into the vortex with ease.

"Doctor," Rose began slowly, suddenly not sounding quite as giddy as before.

"Go on, ask me anything. I'm on fire!" the Doctor cheered obliviously.

"What about Jack?" At her words the Doctor sobered, a morose expression spreading over his face. Hartley's chest squeezed as she realised the same thing. The smile melted from her face, and she leant against the railing to hold herself up. "Why'd he say goodbye?" Rose continued when the Doctor said nothing, though his silence was telling enough. The Time Lord sighed, fiddling with a flashing knob on the console for lack of something better to do with his hands. "That bomb," she said breathlessly, like someone had punched her in the throat, "did it kill him?"

"It will do, I suppose, yeah," he finally replied, frowning thoughtfully, the expression not quite remorseful, but still distinctly guilty.

"But we can save him!" Hartley all but shouted, unable to restrain herself. After all, they had the TARDIS; the magical, wonderful, materialising, time-travelling TARDIS. "We can, can't we?" she pressed when the Doctor's frown deepened.

The Doctor looked taken aback by the intensity in her response, but he considered it nonetheless. "Can we?" Rose asked tightly, like she barely dared to hope.

If the Doctor was indecisive, he didn't show it, cracking a grin and flicking a switch that sent the TARDIS into travel mode, the floor shaking under them as they moved. In the same instant music flooded the console room, and Hartley realised with a roll of her eyes that it was the song Rose and Jack had danced to before.

The TARDIS landed with a deep, beautiful groan, and while the Doctor swept a surprised Rose up in an impromptu dance lesson, Hartley raced to the doors, heart in her throat. She threw them open to peer across at Jack, who was sat rightly in the captain's seat, staring out into the stars mournfully, martini glass in hand.

She leaned up against the doors, arms crossed as she watched him with a grin, taking in the acceptance in his expression. He'd embraced his fate, and he was doing the right thing. That was something you didn't hear of often, a self-proclaimed con man doing the right thing.

"Well, hurry up then!" Rose shouted from behind her, and Jack whirled around in shock.

"While we're young, please, Captain," Hartley added with a wide, jubilant smile, stepping back and waving him onto their ship. Once Jack had recovered from his surprise, he leapt violently from his chair, sprinting into the TARDIS and all but tripping inside, staring around in confounded awe. She turned her attention back to the pair dancing in the middle of the control room, wandering up the ramp towards them. "Points for effort, Doctor," she called teasingly.

"Oi!" he complained childishly, before realising something was off. "Close the door, will you? Your ship's about to blow up. There's going to be a draft," he said to Jack, rolling his eyes before pulling away from a giggling Rose and beginning to hit a seemingly random order to switches on the console. The Captain quickly shut the doors as the Doctor sent them into the vortex with a jolt. "Welcome to the TARDIS," he said amicably.

"Much bigger on the inside," Jack commented.

"You'd better be," the Time Lord added seriously, and there was a beat of awkward silence before Rose decided to fill it.

"I think what the Doctor's trying to say is – you may cut in," she said in an attempt to lighten the mood, a hint of her tongue poking out from between her pearly teeth.

"Rose! I've just remembered!" the Doctor shouted suddenly, goofy delight spread across his face.

"What?" she asked with wide eyes.

The music changed from the waltz to swing – the song lighter and more playful than before. "I can dance!" he proclaimed giddily, beginning to move fluidly.

"Actually, Doctor, I thought Jack might like this dance," Rose moving her hand away when the Doctor reached out to pull her in.

"I'm sure he would, Rose. I'm absolutely certain," he beamed cheekily. "But who with?"

All of them laughed as Rose rolled her eyes and relented, falling into a dance with the Time Lord. Hartley settled against the railing, watching them contentedly. Rose giggled delightedly as the Doctor dipped her, and Hartley could only beam, simply overjoyed. It most certainly had been one of the good days.

Jack appeared in front of her all of a sudden, dipped in a low bow. A peal of laughter left Hartley's lips as he held out a hand politely. "May I have this dance?" he asked in a posh accent, and she beamed at him happily as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her closer.

His hands wrapped around her middle, holding firmly as he began to pull her around the room to the new music playing from the speakers. He twirled her, and she laughed again, feeling warm and comfortable in his arms, and for the first time in awhile, finally not feeling like an awkward third wheel.

"Is it always like this?" Jack asked in her ear, glancing over at the other dancing pair with a grin.

Hartley smiled, insides bursting with so much happiness that she wasn't quite sure what to do with it all. "Oh no," she shook her head with a bright, happy smile, plucking the Captain's hat off his head and plopping it on her own with a playful wink. "Sometimes it's much, much better."

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A/N: This chapter was a harder one, and I considered not including it, but I think it's vitally important that you see Hartley and Jack meet. As the Face of Boe once said, it's the start of something great...

As always, reviews keep me fuelled and motivated. There's nothing I love more than hearing from you guys!

Coming up next: Friends