Auhtor's Note: Preliminary chapter. And I'm sorry for not replying to all of the reviews.
I promise it won't happen again.

Martha was the first to find her voice.

"Who are you?"

The man in the black leather jacket, calmly standing behind the Silurian regarded her quietly; the two blue obstacles he must have called his eyes rested on her as he spoke: "I am the Doctor."

"You're not the Doctor," snapped Jack, "You may look like him but you're... I..."

"Jack, who is this?" asked Martha, still looking back and forth between the fleshly intruder and the reptilian one.
"He's the Doctor," replied Jack, "But not the Doctor."

The man in the black leatherjacket sighed and placed a hand on the green creature's shoulder, signalising it to put down the screwdriver.
Martha, now realizing that she still had her arms in the air, placed them on her hips and took a deep breath; Jack dreaded what was coming.

"Okay, what's all of this? Who is this, who is his companion and why do you call him the Doctor and stop glaring at me Jack you know that you can't outstare me!"

"I am the Doctor," repeated the man in front of her.
"No, you're not," snapped Martha.
Jack tried to calm her down.
"He is the Doctor Martha," he began, only to receive a death-glare, "Just not the Doctor you know."

"What do you mean?"
"This is in fact the Doctor," Jack heard the weak voice of his Doctor right by his ear.
He wanted to turn around but stopped as a firm hand was placed on his shoulder.
"Please...don't," the Doctor whispered hoarsely.
Jack nodded quietly.

Martha gave the Doctor a sideway glanced; as she didn't spot too much blood she turned her head away from the shivering figure behind Jack and faced the man her Doctor had just called the Doctor.

"In fact," the Doctor went on, one hand clutching at his lower abdomen as he panted, the other one supporting the small bundle he'd pressed against his chest "He is the Doctor. He, as a matter of fact, is me; well, I am who he is...well, better yet, was. Which is, in fact, the point."

The Doctor approached his former self in the leather jacket and eyed him up suspiciously.

"This charming emerald coloured reptilian is what you call a Devonian..."

"Silurian," corrected the addressed alien.

"...Silurian, of course," added the Doctor, "Not with all the tentacles and fins and stuff. And seeing that you, I mean I, have brought a Silurian to this place is a sure sign that you, as I mean myself, have been meddling with time."

The Doctor took a step towards the Silurian who smiled miserably.
"I quite well remember your kind becoming extinct, which actually added another one to my list of strange names as I was invested as 'Slayer of the Lizards'."

"Stop it," snapped the Doctor's former self.
"Oh, and who are you to shut me up?" snapped the Doctor, "Apparently you're even younger than me and I wouldn't even listen to myself if it was my twelfth regeneration talking to me."

The Doctor's former self sighed.

Something squirmed in the Doctor's arms, something Jack couldn't see.
And it was driving him insane.
But Martha had to stop him as he tried to reach out to the Doctor, and it took nothing more than a quiet "Don't" and a penetrating glare to let Jack miserably retrieve his hand.

"I knew there was no sense in trying to talk sense into myself," sighed the Doctor's former self crestfallen.
"I could have told you," added the Doctor.

"As a matter of fact you did."

The Doctor growled.
"You know what I don't like about this?" he asked visibly annoyed, "I can't even be mad at you! I was the one you tortured, I was the one who was put through all the misery and a living hell as the abomination beside you added valves to my digestive system, ground down my bones and disfigured my body for whatever reason and I can't even be mad at you because it was under your direction, which means I've been racking myself! And worst of all: I can't even remember why!"

"Because you needed to," replied his former self in a docile voice.
"What for?" asked the Doctor and was about to shout at his previous reflection as he froze.
There were footsteps approaching.

And a voice echoing through Torchwood's deserted hall.

"Hello? Doctor?"

And both the Doctors stared at each other in shocked silence as the footsteps neared.
In the blink of an eye (a very quick eye indeed) the Doctor rushed past Jack and Martha and even before they could have turned around the box behind them was shut and, judging by the sounds, nailed up.

"That was a girl's voice," mumbled Martha as she tried to digest what she's just seen, which was, in fact, an enraged Doctor turning into a frightened flight animal in a wink.
"Who is she?"

"Rose," replied Jack and the former Doctor's self simultaneously.

"The Blonde?"

Sorry again for the short chapter. Feel free to leave a complaint about it.