A/N: I don't normally update this often, bare that thought in mind. I've just been on a roll lately, so here's chapter six! I might split the Unquiet Dead into three parts, depending on how much extra commentary I add in the chapters. I'll just play that by ear. Also! I'm thinking about adding an additional adventure for these two that wasn't included in Nine's series! Thought? Ideas? Let me know in the reviews! :)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.

"He hasn't woken up for weeks, Mr. Harkness. I'm concerned."

"Just Jack. Mr. Harkness makes me sound old. What did he say before this, Martha?"

"Something about a...a healing coma. I tried looking things up in the medical wing, in the library, everything I could think of, but...there's nothing. Anything that could have held something is written in Gallifreyan-"

"-and the TARDIS doesn't translate that."

There was a moment of silence between the two, save for the sound of a steady, quiet breathing that could only be that of the Time Lord lying still on the bed of the medical wing.

"There might be someone," came Jack's voice.

"Who?"

"Another Time Lord. The Master."

"But he said he's the last Time Lord." Martha sounded confused.

"There's a reason Doc doesn't talk about him, Martha. Besides, I don't think even he knows he's still alive."

"How do you, then?"

"He's not the only time traveler in this universe, sweetheart. I've seen some things." There was a pause. "I'm sure the Doctor will be fine, Martha, but are you really that concerned about this...coma?"

"I'm not sure. Like I said, it's been weeks."

"...I'll see what I can do."

-DW-

The Doctor bolted up in his bed, looking around his bedroom and feeling his face. Big ears, big nose, no hair. He was still his past self. Sighing, he let himself drop back onto the mattress as he stared up at the ceiling. That was just a dream, then. If anything, however, the dream made him even more confused. Was he dreaming, or was this real? He knew he was in a healing coma, had known from the beginning. Yet Martha was still there (he had been out for weeks) and Jack had somehow come into the mix (how did he even find out where they were? How was he even still alive?) and now he was going to contact the Master (he thought he was dead) to take him out of the coma.

How confusing. His head was aching in it. For now, however, he would put it to the back of his mind. It didn't matter.

(Well, that was a lie. It did matter, but right now he didn't care to think too much on what happened to him. He was healing, from what he could gather, so he put his trust in that. Unless the Master was brought into play. Then he would worry.)

The Doctor rolled out of bed and went toward the kitchen, where a sleepy Rose was fumbling around for the kettle and some tea. He smiled a bit. She was cute when she was sleepy. If he and his ninth self were in their right minds, the former would likely blush while the latter would scold himself for thinking that way about a companion. Since they weren't, however, all morals flew out of the window, and he let himself think what he wished.

Besides, this was a dream anyway. Damn the consequences.

"Mornin'!" he called, sounding chipper despite his earlier dream. Rose looked over and frowned.

"You're awfully happy this morning. What is it?"

"Nothing. Brand new day! Things to see, worlds to save-"

"-tea to drink," she said with a grin. The Doctor grinned back.

"That too. Plenty of things to do. A whole universe to explore! Why would I not be happy?"

"It's who-knows-how early in the morning, that's why," she grumbled. "Can't get that chipper if I tried without a cuppa."

"Good thing you're making some. Where'd you want to go?"

Rose looked back at the kettle and shrugged. "Dunno. The past?"

The Doctor nodded, sitting on the table. "Sounds good. How's 1860 sound?"

Rose raised an eyebrow as the kettle boiled, looking at him. "What happened 1860?"

Oh, she had no idea. "I don't know, let's find out!"

The Doctor ran toward the console room, Rose's confused but amused giggles following him out.

-DW-

The trip itself was a rather rough one. Rose had wanted to help fly the TARDIS, and it turned out that she was just a bit too short to reach a lot of the controls no matter how much she stretched (the Doctor found this rather endearing). They landed just as roughly, but instead of being confused and shocked, he laughed. Rose couldn't help but join in, amused by the Doctor's demeanor. He was rather amused himself, admittedly. He wondered what kind of tea Rose made that morning. Something had to be in that tea.

"Blimey, that was rough," he said, getting up. Rose nodded in agreement and stood, dusting off her pants.

"You're telling me. Where are we?"

"Earth, Naples, December 24, 1860." He raised an eyebrow at her expression. "What?"

"Nothing. Just...it's so weird. It's Christmas."

The Doctor nodded. "It is, yeah."

She shook her head. "But, it's like, think about it, though. Christmas. 1860. Happens once, just once and it's gone, it's finished, it'll never happen again. Except for you." She looked up at him in what looked like awe. "You can go back and see days that are dead and gone a hundred thousand sunsets ago. No wonder you never stay still."

"Not a bad life," he said quietly. Rose grinned.

"Better with two. Come on, then." She began to walk out, and he went after her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"1860," Rose said, giving him a look. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Go out there dressed like that, you'll start a riot, Barbarella. There's a wardrobe through there. First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on your left. Hurry up!"

Rose stared in confusion but nodded, going into the TARDIS to change. The Doctor smiled softly, knowing his ship would show her the way. "Thanks, old girl," he said affectionately.

The ship hummed warmly in response.

-DW-

"Not a sign. Where is she? "

"She's vanished into the ether, sir. Where can she be?"

"You tell me, girl."

"What do you mean?"

"Gwyneth, you know full well."

"No, sir! I can't."

"Use the sight!"

"It's not right, sir!"

"Find the old lady or you're dismissed. Now, look inside, girl. Look deep. Where is she?"

"...she's lost, sir. She's so alone...oh, my lord! So many strange things in her head…"

"But where?!"

"She's excited about tonight. Before she passed on, she was going to see him."

"Who's him?"

"The great man...all the way from London. The great, great man…"

-DW-

Rose looked beautiful.

Honestly, she always looked beautiful to him. The dress fit her just right, and her expression when he saw her walk out made her even more so. He would never laugh, because how could he laugh at such beauty?

That was the last time he hung around the Cavalier poets.

Of course, he ended up disappointing her with Cardiff, not Naples, but this moment had always been exciting for him. They were going to meet the great Charles Dickens! They were going to run into the living dead! He could hear his voice from the theater, reading A Christmas Carol, and honestly, this was just fantastic.

Maybe he should stop reading blogs as well. He was turning into a right fangirl. Fanboy. Fanperson.

Whatever.

The only thing to break the memory and nostalgia that came with this trip to Christmas in Cardiff were the screams that emitted from the theater. Despite himself, the Doctor grinned widely. "That's more like it!" His adrenaline kicked in, and he ran off into the theater, watching as two people left with a woman in tow, leaving Rose behind.

Wait.

"Rose?"

"She's cold! She's dead! Oh my god, what did you do to-"

Her voice stopped and she fell back, the man behind her shoving her into the hearse.

"Rose!"

He tried to go, but Dickens (bless and curse the man) stopped him.

"You're not escaping me, sir! What do you know about that hobgoblin, hmm? Projection on glass, I suppose. Who put you up to this?"

"I apologize, Mr. Dickens, but please-shut up." He looked around and hopped into the carriage nearest.

"Excuse you! That's my coach!" Dickens protested.

"Well then get in!" He moved over for the author to get in, and noded when he did so.

"Why should I let this carriage move, sir? Who are you anyway?"

"I'm the Doctor, I love your books-brilliant, by the way-but right now my companion has been taken by those two loons, as well as the glowing woman from your reading. You want to know what happened in there? I'd get a move on."

Dickens looked confused, and the driver looked back.

"Would you like me to remove him, Mr. Dickens?"

The author slowly shook his head. "No, no, he can stay. Do as the man says, Mr. Finn!'

The driver nodded and took off. The Doctor took a deep breath and nodded to himself, keeping conversation with Dickens up so he wouldn't change his mind (not that any of his comments held false meaning).

He'd get Rose back, he knew, but that didn't mean he was worried any less. Time was changing, and this time...well, anything could happen. They had been trapped in a cellar with Gelth wanting to kill them, for god's sake!

And this time? Well...they might not get so lucky. He could only hope that they would.