A/N: So, what? It's been about a week since my last chapter, give or take? Time for another! Now, this chapter revolves around the Doctor, Amy, Rory and JACK. Yes, JACK. I didn't forget about him, (nor did I forget about Donna, she'll come in later...) I really love all your reviews guys, they are a real inspiration and I am truly grateful for all of you. Keep reviewin' and I'll keep posting, :)

I don't own Doctor Who, nor do I own any of the characters, but I think you knew that already. *wink*

See you on the flip-side and once again THANK YOU!

Chapter 4

Amy had been growing impatient in waiting for her husband's return. Honestly, she hadn't expected Rory to find the Doctor and with one final call to the mystery woman that – once again – heralded only silence, she had begun wondering what it would take to get the TARDIS to make an emergency landing on Earth.

But then suddenly Amy could hear voices down the hallway.

"I can get there by myself, Rory!"

"Right, because the last time I let you go you didn't fall over or anything."

"The gravity was obviously dodgy in that spot!"

"Sure, so the whole hallway's gravity was working perfectly fine for me but-"

"Oh shut up!"

The conversation was cut off abruptly as a chain of hacking coughs reverberated across the walls and into the main console room. Amy had to supress a chill that crept up her spine as the coughing made a permanent residence in her memory. She'd almost, almost convinced herself that the Doctor might have been feeling better if it wasn't for the coughing. She listened closely for the Doctor's voice, but this time, there was only silence as the two made an appearance from the corridor above.

Amy watched as Rory supported the Doctor as he painfully made his way down the stairs. Obviously, the Time Lord was still recuperating from his latest coughing fit. This time, he was finding it particularly hard to catch his breath.

Amy studied the Doctor during his weakened state and immediately noticed that – if it were possible – his skin had turned an even paler shade than before. His cheeks were still flushed and his hair covered his face like an old mop, covering so much of his eyes that she couldn't understand how he was still able to see what was directly in front of him.

Rory tried to support the alien by holding an arm around his back, but after a few moments of heavy breathing, the Doctor regained his composure and moved out of Rory's grip fairly easily.

The Doctor smiled as he was met with his console once more. He knew that the more he let his illness ravage him, the more it would ravage the TARDIS, but he had still blindly allowed Amy and Rory to have the power for enough time to actually guide him away and into bed. Big mistake.

The Doctor stroked the console affectionately, fighting hard to keep standing with little to no support of his beloved machine. "I know it hurts," the Doctor murmured, directing his speech to the TARDIS and the TARDIS only, "but if I can get here, then you can get to Earth."

The TARDIS whirred, clearly frustrated. Amy and Rory glanced nervously at each other as the Doctor carried on talking to his machine. His speech soon became too low to be understood, but as Amy followed the Doctor's lips she was almost positive that he was no longer speaking English. Amy knew he had to have regressed to pepping the TARDIS with their native tongue. Gallifreyan was the only language that wasn't translated after all.

"What do you think he's saying?" Rory asked as he joined his wife on the other side of the console.

Amy shrugged, "doesn't matter, as long as it gets her goin'."

The Doctor smiled appreciatively and soon he was pressing buttons and pulling gears as if nothing had been wrong in the first place. The TARDIS whirred as usual, however there was a slight undertone to the sound she gave off. If a machine could be tired, then that's how the couple perceived the noise.

The Doctor fought back any urges to cough as best he could. The last thing he wanted to do was send more pain to his TARDIS when she was trying ever so hard to do the right thing. At the same time he tried to fly the old girl as best he could without getting too tired or dizzy, which was proving a hard task to complete. Rory kept taking hesitant steps forward every time he wobbled against the console and the Doctor was growing sick of it, as if Rory expected him to collapse at any moment.

The Doctor managed to land the TARDIS, if not a little roughly, on Earth.

"Okay Amy, going to need the phone," The Doctor said, trying to sound as much as his usual self that was possible with a very hoarse throat.

Amy pursed her lips and glanced at Rory for confirmation. Usually, she was never this dependent on Rory's say-so, but right then he was the most medically experienced person in the room, the most dependable. She had to trust Rory to know what she could and couldn't allow the Doctor to do, especially in his weakened state.

Rory nodded and Amy moved to the Doctor, fighting the urge to support the Time Lord herself. Still, she handed the phone over and hovered around the Doctor as he hooked the device up to the main monitor.

"Whatcha doin'?" Amy asked as she peered over the Doctor's shoulder.

"Finding where the call came from, otherwise we'll be looking all over Earth for her." The Doctor said as the screen began to fade into a map of the area, "last time I saw Martha Jones she was doing free-lance work with her husband," the Doctor refrained from adding 'Mickey the idiot' to the end of his sentence. His companions wouldn't understand the reference, and it was never as fun to say unless Mickey was there to scowl at him afterwards. The Doctor couldn't help but smirk from the fond memories.

The monitor began to slowly fade as the TARDIS made another groan of protest, "you're doing great dear, just a minute longer," the Doctor coaxed, once again in English, as he stroked the console fondly, "just need to… there!" Amy and Rory jumped in surprise at the Doctor's sudden energy. He grinned proudly as the map locked on to an exact location. "Alright dear, just one more trip," the Doctor assured as he began pushing buttons and typing in co-ordinates, "then you can rest."

Even as the Doctor said the words, Amy and Rory could hear tiredness behind them and the silent longing that he could rest too. It scared Amy to see this side of the Doctor. Before, she always considered him a being that didn't sleep, or at least some kind of insomniac. To see him so tired, so weak… it just reminded her that even though he could change his face, the Doctor was still mortal. He could still hurt, just like anyone else.

Still, the couple braced themselves, as they did for any journey, but even they could tell that between the Doctor's even poorer than usual driving skills and the TARDIS' obvious weakness tying her down, the ride was going to be a lot more bumpier than usual.

They weren't wrong.

By the time the journey was over, the couple had managed to fall to the floor three times. The Doctor had only fallen over once and was radiating the glory of this fact. Now at least Rory wouldn't waver around him like he was as fragile as a piece of glass.

"So, where are we then?" Amy asked after she had regained enough composure to speak.

The Doctor's eyes flashed as he read the screen, "little apartment block, just to the east of London, we're looking for number 12B, that's Martha's apartment." The sentence had made the Time Lord feel a little breathless, but he recovered fast and was already bounding – if not a little more forced than usual – towards the TARDIS doors.

"Wait!" Rory called as the Doctor was about to pull the doors open. The Doctor froze to look at him expectantly and so did Amy. Rory cleared his throat a little sheepishly, "what are we supposed to be expecting, I mean Martha did say Earth was in danger."

"Could be a lot of the things," the Doctor said, "could be a lot of a lot of things, more and more aliens come to Earth every year, it doesn't help that you all parade yourself around space with your telescopes and time capsules," the Doctor waved a hand dismissively before he brought it to his mouth to cough a few short times into it. Rory could tell that the Doctor was holding back his symptoms, but as a trained nurse, he could see the full extent of the Time Lord's illness as if it was written across his face in permanent marker. Still, he knew that crowding the Doctor was a bad idea, the Doctor didn't like having his weaknesses pointed out almost as much as Amy didn't like hearing about them. Rory rolled his eyes in despair but decided to overlook the Doctor's latest coughing fit. After all, truly anything could have been standing behind those wooden doors.

"Are we goin' out there or not?" Amy asked impatiently. She would give anything to try and overlook the Doctor's illness. She was almost as bad as he was.

"Yes," the Doctor said with a smile, though Rory had to supress a sigh at his hoarse vocals.

And with that, the Time Lord opened the doors and stepped out…

…Into a completely clear, not-abnormal-in-the-slightest London road.

The Doctor frowned as he looked about himself. No people screaming in terror, no aliens with devious laser weapons, not even a car out of park. It was just a normal London street with normal London people giving him odd looks as he stared at each human that passed him by. Nothing was wrong here. Not at all.

"Um, Doctor, is this what an invasion looks like, or am I just goin' crazy?" Amy asked from behind as she too exited the TARDIS.

The Doctor shook his head in frustration, but immediately regretted the idea as his world spun and dove around him.

"This can't be right," he stammered, holding his forehead with one hand as he spun on his heels to double check everything.

"Doctor…" Rory said unsurely. The Doctor had paled even more since his latest realisation and Rory was beginning to worry about how much longer he would last on two legs. However, before Rory could say anything more, the Doctor was already running towards the block of flats just across the road.

"Come on!" he called, never faltering in his speed.

It took a while for the three friends to find the apartment, but once they did, Amy and Rory were panting to catch their breath. Amy glowered at the Doctor darkly as he fiddled in his pocket for his sonic once no one answered the door after several knocks. She knew that he was hiding his illness, but what was worrying her was how well he was doing it. She didn't really know what the difference was in Time Lord and Human physiology, but something told her that whatever had happened to Martha Jones was more important to the Doctor than succumbing to whatever was wrong with him. The couple finally regained their breath as the front door clicked. The Doctor grinned and opened it, peering inside.

"Martha?" He asked, unable to mask his concern. Martha Jones had been one of his smartest companions. Unlike others, Martha had chosen to leave before the world crashed and burned around her. She had survived the year that never was, but she had remembered it and so had her family. The Doctor had ruined her life and was unable to glue the pieces back together. The best he could do was offer her up to UNIT and even then she decided to quit. He'd always kept an eye on her – Martha Jones – but after his rough regeneration and his new companions, he'd forgotten about his little time jumps to his companions. The last time he'd seen Martha, Mickey, Donna or even Jack had been back when he was ten, back when he had been so eager to stay as he was. That feeling of regret had evaporated as soon as he changed, but something in his hearts always told him that that face was going to be hard to forget, not just for him, but for each person that encountered it.

After a few moments of relative silence, the Doctor guided Amy and Rory into the flat. They stepped carefully, as if anything could be a potential threat. The flat was relatively small and was only made up of a few rooms. There was a hallway that gave off a rather claustrophobic feel and that hallway led into about four different rooms. A kitchen, a bathroom, a living room and a bedroom.

The Doctor shuddered, "how do you people live in these kinds of spaces?" he shook his head as he withdrew his sonic once more, "everything's so… small."

"We can't all have a time machine that exists in two different dimensions," Rory reminded as he followed close behind Amy as each friend took a room to investigate.

"No one's in the kitchen!" Amy called.

Rory appeared from the doorway of the bedroom, "no one in here either, but, oh hey look, double beds."

A few coughs sounded from the living room before the Doctor weakly argued, "bunk beds are cool!"

"Oh can you two both shut up?" Amy sighed as she moved on to the bathroom. She peered inside and frowned, "bathroom's clear too."

The Doctor frowned as he soniced the living room. Something wasn't right, not right at all. "Life signs in here," he called with a croak as he studied his sonic intensely. It definitely said there were life signs… but they were fading, getting weaker every second.

"Teleport," the Doctor said quietly, staring at the sonic, "it's a-ah-ah-AHCHOO!" the Doctor groaned as he rubbed at his nose, "perfect," he muttered. Just another symptom to make his head spin. He sighed as he leant against the doorframe.

That's when he felt it.

"Doctor?" Amy and Rory called at the same time as they ran over to the alien, "you alright?" Amy asked, placing a hand on her raggedy man's shoulder. The Doctor shook his head as he moved away from the door frame. "Someone's been here," he said, narrowing his eyes at the wall where he had been previously leaning. He pointed there and glanced towards his companions, "notice everything."

Amy and Rory both looked to the spot and then to each other, "I don't see anything…" Rory said slowly.

Amy shrugged as she looked at the spot, but then suddenly… something caught her eye. "Hang on, something's there," she pointed to where the Doctor had been pointing, "something is sparkling."

Rory squinted at the spot as the Doctor placed his hand under the small sparkling particles and lifted one onto his finger. Just seeing the particles made the Doctor feel physically weak. Weaker than he was currently feeling. Suddenly the world seemed to spin as he lost his footing and fell into the other side of the doorway, clutching his head.

"Doctor?" Rory asked, instantly switching to nurse mode, "what's the matter?"

"Psychic pollen…" the Doctor barely whispered, "its psychic pollen."

Amy and Rory's eyes both shimmered with the realisation, memories hitting them hard.

"But that's impossible," Rory said. He thought for a moment and then took in the Doctor's vacant expression, "isn't it?"

"Doctor!" Amy growled, shaking the Time Lord roughly on the shoulder, "listen, isn't that impossible?"

The Doctor shrugged, "I don't-" he was caught off guard by another coughing fit. He shook his head afterwards, sagging against the wall, "it's possible that... I mean during my weakened state I could have…" The Doctor's eyes widened as he looked back at the pollen, "…I let him out."

"Oh my God," Amy whispered.

The Doctor closed his eyes, silently cursing himself. Of all the hundreds of thousands of things that could have possibly happened to Martha and Mickey, it had to be this. This man was all about pain and suffering with not one piece of mercy in his entire being. The Time Lord knew this; after all he was technically part of the Doctor. He'd allowed the darkest thing he'd ever met out of his subconscious.

The Doctor growled through gritted teeth as he slammed his fist against the wall, startling his companions, "the Dream Lord."

One moment, Captain Jack Harkness had been in the middle of New York with the whole intentions of reinstituting Torchwood. The next moment, Jack had found himself in a dark, desolate London street.

"It's really quite depressing when I find people like you." A disembodied voice seemed to flitter through Jack's head. Jack spun around almost instantly, unaware of what the threat might be. He could have been more shocked than he was when he realised that he had more or less teleported without his own devices, but truthfully, things like this weren't that hard to believe for a long-time Torchwood operative and previous Time Agent. He'd appeared in a lot stranger places than this; one involving a king size bed, a pair of very handsome twins and a video camera.

Though the fond memories came to light, they were taken away almost instantly by a very unnerving snicker from behind him.

"You know, usually when I tap into a mind I find their fears. I wasn't really expecting that."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to invade a person's mind?" Jack's eyes glinted with humour as he spun around, half expecting to see the face attached to the voice. His face fell as he was met with nothing but the dark once more.

"Well, I never really had a mother or a father, or even a face."

Jack pouted, "that's really too bad, I would have loved to meet you in the flesh."

The laugh picked up again, but now Jack could clearly hear the darker intent behind it. "Captain Jack Harkness, such a lovable old dope. The Doctor really likes you, though he can't stand you at the same time. 'Course, a Time Lord wouldn't be able to stand you, you're not right. You need to be fixed." There was an eerie pause in the words where Jack was too astonished to speak. Really, it shouldn't have shocked him that some form of alien entity knew who the Doctor was, but to know what he was, to know what had happened…

The voice returned, mockingly, "but I'm not going to fix you Jack, that would leave the interpretation that I was a good guy."

Jack dug his hands into his trench coat pockets and blew out a breath, "Figured," he muttered.

"You don't fear much though Mr Harkness. The fixed point. The man who cannot die." The voice was tired at this point, debating his fate, "I guess you've died too many times to fear it and lived so long that life doesn't scare you either… but I'm sure there were a few moments that instilled fear into you."

Jack was about to argue with the voice when suddenly brutal memories and images managed to surface through his head, all so crystal clear that he felt he was living them all over again.

Ianto dying in his arms…

Sacrificing his grandson for the good of the Planet

Sacrificing so many children years before that…

…Seeing them again, hooked up as drugs to the four-five-six.

Owen being shot through the heart

Owen being brought back only to resent him

"You get to live forever? Well, guess what, I get to die forever."

Jack felt his heart twist within his chest. All those that he had lost, that he had sacrificed. And he had only run. He had run to the far sides of the Galaxy only to receive that note.

His name's Alonso.

The Doctor was dying, he had to be. There was no other reason for that incredible mad-man to be in an inter-galactic bar giving an old friend pick-up line tips.

Tosh and Owen dying

Tosh's blood was everywhere, coated everything. Owen saved the world and his body was finally destroyed.

"And what about the lovers in your past? Your precious Ianto wasn't the first. Who was there before?" the voice was dark and taunting as it continued to shoot Jack down with constant clips of his past. Jack felt his knees weaken as he fell to the ground. His body was numb but he could feel the tears bleeding through his eyes.

Angelo

"No!" Jack cried through gritted teeth. He tried to grip onto the concrete and pull himself up, but the memories were too painful. He couldn't feel his body in the dirt, only in the ghost of the footsteps he took in his mind. He watched like a ghost as his memories played in front of him. Every last one until he was paralysed on the ground.

"This game's been fun," the man chuckled, "but this is just the warm up. Now you know what I'm capable of."

Suddenly, a pair of leather shoes appeared by Jack's nose. He tried so hard to look up, but found himself without the strength.

"Think of all of those that you lost, unable to die, unable to go out with any of them. You're like the Doctor, but even he could die… even he regenerates. You're an impossible thing, Jack."

The last words sounded so familiar that Jack was given just enough strength to look into the eyes of his captor. And that's when he saw it.

Those eyes…

They were old eyes.

The Dream Lord grinned manically as Jack's mind made the connection, "the game isn't about your pain this time Jack… oh no. With you, I get to be creative. You're the fateful observer. You don't die, but you don't get out easy. Wait 'til you see what I have in store for your precious little friends." The Dream Lord grinned further as he looked up into the sky and raised his arms above his head, "wait 'til the Doctor joins the party. Oh, what fun then!" he laughed as he looked at Jack and rolled his eyes, "though he probably won't be in as good spirits as I'm used to."

Jack opened his mouth to speak but the Dream Lord shook his head and pouted. Just like that, Jack's lips clamped shut, forcing him into silence.

"Oh, no lip from you Mr. You have bigger fish to fry. Be careful, the big Bad Wolf is on the prowl and there's a little mouse chasing his tale with his wife running from the drums." The Dream Lord winked before he fizzled out of existence, though his final words hung in the air like a thick mist.

"No one is safe."