- The Doctor -

He was on the concrete floor. His hands cuffed behind his back. His legs were free though as they had forgotten to secure them. He had tucked his legs up underneath him the best he could to try to hide it. He stretched and moved them gingerly. Slowly, he looked up. His guards were across the room, not paying attention. He stood up carefully and made a move towards the door.

"Grab him," Mrs. X, stated before he was even halfway there. He cursed silently as they tackled him to the floor. He should have known it was a trap. There were testing him to see if he had learned anything. They reattached the chains to him. Then strung him to the ceiling and secured him tightly.

"Oh bad doggy," Mrs. X said, he opened his mouth to respond, and watched the grin creep across her face. If he talked the punishment would be even worse. He closed his mouth again, and glared at her with all the hatred he had come to feel this last month. She continued to smile at him expectantly. Before long she turned and walked towards the door. His guards came forward, one of them holding a lead pipe. The man swung it, and he felt a sharp stabbing pain go through his right leg and up his body. His right arm burned in pain as all the weight in his body was suddenly transferred to his arms. He screamed out, and didn't see the man swing a second time, but felt his left leg shatter as well. His mind went numb. He didn't fight it as he lost conciseness.

His eyes popped open as the pain shot through his legs at the memory. "Martha," he moaned and then looked up, and realized she wasn't in the room. He lay there breathing heavily, trying to force the memory out of his mind. He wished she was there reading to him, then he could concentrate on the book, but the room was silent. He sat up slowly, and then stood up. His legs supported him while standing. He went to take a step forward very slowly and fell. Feeling defeated he lay there and cried.

- Martha Jones -

A loud thump woke her up. "Doctor," she immediately cried out in concern and got out of bed. She quickly went to his room. She turned on the light, and saw him laying a few feet away from his bed. Panicked she rushed to his side.

"Are you okay," she asked concerned.

"I am a 907 year old Time Lord, who could make armies turn at the sound of my name. Now I can't even make it to the bathroom on my own," he spat at her. Then in a voice so low she could barely hear it, he asked the two words she never thought she would hear from him. "Why me?"

She couldn't answer him. She didn't know why. Jack had been trying to find out anything he could about the warehouse they had found the Doctor in, but it all led to nothing. The warehouse had been abandoned years ago when it's company had gone out of business. The company had no ties to Torchwood, U.N.I.T, The CIA or any other government or private company. Jack had his men watching the place around the clock, and no one had returned to the building. Jack personally had gone in looking for evidence of anyone else, and they had only found evidence of one other person. But she was listed as missing.

"I don't know," she said finally.

"Come on." she stood up and then helped him up off the floor and into the wheelchair. He was unwilling to corporate as she took him to the bathroom. Afterward she helped him to his bed and got him settled. She headed to the door and turned off the light.

"Martha," she heard him say as she closed the door.

"Yes."

"Stay with me." He sounded so childlike and scared she turned and headed back in the room. She went to the bed and climbed in covering up. Almost immediately he was next to her with his head on her chest, and was holding her. He was shaking, and she put her arms around him to try to comfort him.

"Shh, Shh, It's okay," Martha cooed.

"Martha, I-I-I did s-something h-h-h-horrible," he stuttered. "I-I d-didn't wa-want to, b-but I had no ch-choice."

"Whatever you did, whatever they forced you to do, wasn't your fault," she whispered softly. He broke down crying.

"I-I c-c-c-couldn't sa-save her."

"Save who." When he didn't answer, she looked down at him. She saw that he had shut down again. He was still shaking violently. She pulled the blankets tighter around them, and then started singing softly to him. She moved her hand to his head, and tried to stroke his hair but he flinched away, so she returned to holding him.

His breathing evened out, and she thought he had fallen asleep. She sat there silently until she heard him say.

"Martha, are you going to leave me?"

"Never," she told him honestly and leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "I'll stay with you as long as you need me to."