Owen had told her she'd have a fast recovery. But it was taking forever. It took almost a week before she had motion in her hands. Not her arms, just her hands. And nearly two weeks before she could speak like everyone else. Long story short, everything was awful. Everyone went about their daily business and she just sat in the med-bay, praying that they'd come visit.

She hated not being able to get up and move around. She hated the constant ache in the center of her back, right where her wings met her shoulders. It pounded day and night, hurting more than she thought could be possible.

Owen tried to help. He tried several times to slice open the skin and muscle to straighten the bones underneath. These attempt, did barely anything. Her wings weren't built like any Earth bird. They were more like feathered bat wings. But then they weren't remotely similar. The only way he'd be able to fix her was if they found another Palkatorian, which, according to Jack, would be impossible.

She sighed, laying her head back on her bed. Two weeks and she had only seen the walls of the med-bay. She was going to go insane if this lasted much longer.

The same five faces telling the same stories about their lives. She needed to get out and make her own stories. None of them wanted to hear about the latest crack in the wall or the shadow that was constantly hanging in the corner of her eye.

Sigh. Goddamn it. she was turning into one of them. They weren't there. They were out on a mission. Walking. Running. What she wouldn't do to have even that. The comfort in the ability to wiggle her fingers had worn off long ago. She wanted to make a fist. She wanted to pick something up. She wanted to move off the goddamn cot.

Voices. That was fast. It normally took longer than an hour.

"So she's this way?" a woman. An unfamiliar woman. Strangely relieving. Angel had begun to wonder if there was even a world outside what the others called Torchwood Three. Then again, if it was three there had to be one and two.

"Yes Mrs. Smith," that was definitely Ianto. He knew her, it was the almost joking way he said, 'Mrs'. "Though I will warn you that she doesn't know your here. Gwen thought it would be better as a surprise." There was that familiar smile in his voice. So he not only knew her, but he thought of her as a friend. That should be good.

Angel had been almost been surprised to find that she actually liked Ianto. Once she had realized that he was just the coffee boy and had no intentions of ordering anybody about, all her previous misconceptions had melted away. She didn't exactly trust him at all times, but she enjoyed his company in small doses.

He appeared with a dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed woman and for the millionth time Angel wondered if everyone on the planet was so impossibly gorgeous. "Oh my…" the woman breathed, "She's…" she shook her head.

Angel knew how she probably looked. Owen had her laying on her back so she could see what was happening. The pad had divots cut in the shoulders so that her wings could be pulled to either side. They were still mangled, but at least looked wing-like. As for the rest of her, she'd undergone multiple surgeries and hadn't bathed for nearly a week and a half. She probably looked like something out of the pits of hell.

She swallowed inhibition and spoke. "…Unnerving? Broken?" she offered, "Or were you going to say, 'an angel'? Because that's my name."

The woman smiled and stepped forward. Her movements were awkward, as if her center of gravity had recently changed. "I was going to say breathtaking." She set her hand down on top of Angel's, "Martha Smith," she said sweetly, "UNIT Medical Officer."

"Angel Bird," Angel replied, wrapping her fingers around Martha's, "Torchwood Three's greatest catch." She smiled. She liked Martha, she had a certain glow to her.

"So I'm guessing Mickey doesn't know you're here?" Ianto said, reaching out to take the thick black jacket that wrapped around her shoulders, "I really doubt he'd approve."

"You speak as though I care what Mickey approves of," Martha joked, leaving Angel wondering who the hell Mickey was. From the way Martha spoke about them, she could only assume he was some sort of significant other. Or, at least she hoped he was.

"So he's at the hotel while you investigate?" Ianto asked.

"Most likely hanging around the back door waiting for me to appear," Martha retorted.

Angel liked listening to them. She hoped she could one day banter like they did. But first she'd have to find someo-… Her eyes were drawn to Martha's figure. Without the coat on it was quite obvious. Ianto smiled at her stomach.

"And how's baby Jack?" he asked, running his hand along it's obvious curve.

"Unusually quiet," Martha said, copying his movements, "It's got Mickey more worried than usual."

"Of course it does," Ianto smiled, "Now I'm going to give you three some privacy." He smiled at Angel before turning and walking out of the med-bay with Martha's jacket over his arm.

Angel watched him go. Her eyes lingered on the archway for a moment before she turned to Martha. The woman looked so nervous and curious.

"So…" Angel said, trying to break the silence, but she didn't actually know what to say. It was incredibly frustrating.

"Oh!" Martha stepped back, grabbing a spare lab coat off the hook, "You probably have a lot of questions for me." She was so flustered, and eager but unsure. Angel wondered if she was always like this.

"Yes, I do," Angel said, measuring each word with a great deal of care, "There's the usual ones like: 'What are you doing here? Why am I supposed to be excited?' But then there's the other ones such as: 'Who's Mickey?' and: 'Is it safe to assume that you're going to have a baby?' The forth one probably makes more sense to someone who's traveled quite a bit though." She realized she was rambling and cut herself off. She looked at Martha, and she was smiled. It was strange having someone so interested in listening to her nonsense. Gwen did sometimes, but she was mostly just complaining about Rhys or showing off the latest pictures of Anwen.

Martha laughed and began digging through a black filling bag she'd brought with her. "I'll begin with the 'other' questions," She said, her smile turning into a grin, "Mickey is my husband. We met through a mutual friend. Coincidentally the same friend who introduced the two of us to Jack. Yes, I'm having a baby boy. Mickey and I have already agreed to name him Jack Tyler Smith-Jones. Though we'll be calling him Jack." She paused and smiled, "This must be awfully boring for you."

"Not at all," Angel said honestly. She loved hearing anything about the world outside Torchwood. She craved it. Needed it. Meeting a new person, especially one as lovely as Martha, was an almost magical experience.

"Alrighty then," she said, finally pulling a thick folder out of the case, "It's time to talk about why you should be happy to see me." She set the folder on the desk, letting it fall open to the familiar x-rays. "Owen and I have been in contact ever since you fist fell. He understands that I have to share the information with UNIT eventually and SHIELD might even bargain for it though it won't do them any good if Hydra's still involved…"

She was rambling, but Angel held on to her every word. This was more information than any of the others had ever let her here. They were all so busy discussing their own lives that they never talked about anything else. Maybe she should start asking for things to read.

Martha was now pinning sketches and x-rays to the board where Owen had been pinning all Angel's information. There were several different ones, all trying to find different ways to reset her bones.

"… but what happened in Sokovia was absolutely awful. Thank god SHIELD covered up UNIT's help with all the clean up. Unlike them, we actually like remaining secret." Martha turned. "I'm boring you again, aren't I?"

"Not at all!" Angel insisted, "The others don't really talk about what happens outside of Torchwood."

"Of course they don't," she smiled sweetly, "Now, back on track." She turned back to the board, "As you can see, I've been trying to find a design that would work to fix your wings and make it so you're at least get them to fold back correctly. Once we accomplish that we'll push for flying." She paused, tapping one of the sketches, "I had an engineer help me with this one. It looks the most promising, but I want Owen to have a look at it."

She fell silent, deep in thought. Angel attempted to push herself into more of a sitting position. She had been spending way too much time in one position. She was amazed to find her elbows bending enough to push herself up. "So, they called you in specifically to rebuild my wings?" She asked. It seemed like a lot of work just for one alien.

Martha nodded. "I owed Owen a favor. He took a bullet for me a few years ago. If you ask he might show you the scar. In fact if you say my name he'll show you the scar. He is incredibly proud of it." She laughed to herself, "Besides, it's been a fun project to fill my spare time. The only reason it took more than a week is because I have no spare time." She shrugged. "It's really no big deal."

It was a big deal. It was a huge deal. She may not see it, but it really was a huge deal. This woman knew nothing about Angel, yet she'd managed to find the time to do something amazing for her. "Well even if you don't think it's a big deal," Angel said, measuring her every word to try to get her point across in the clearest way possible, "It's a huge deal for me. Thank you. For everything." She wished those words were enough to show Martha how much it meant, but they weren't.

Martha turned. She was smiling. It was such a beautiful smile. "It's a new challenge. Do you know how many engineers I had to talk to to figure this out. Your bones would have to fit in a very exact way that is incredibly hard to figure out. Even after three months we couldn't find an exact design that could work." She frowned. "I think you should know… I walked in here thinking I know what I'm doing, but now that you're sitting here, in front of me… I don't think I do…"

Angel, by some strange miracle lifted her hand and set it on top of Martha's. "It will be okay," she said, "I know it sounds crazy, but I trust you. I know you can help me, I know we face a lot of disappointment, but I trust you. I really do." It was true. Any thoughts that the woman before her thought of her as only an experiment were dispelled. This woman was here to help her. She smiled at Martha.

Martha smiled back, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry for that disappointment to start early," she said, humor in her tone, "But Owen isn't supposed to be back until tomorrow and I don't want to do anything too big without him. Also my spouse won't stop texting me and Little Jack won't stop kicking."

Angel laughed. "It's okay. If you need to go then you can go. Everyone around here has places they need to be, and I'll be here when you get back." She smiled and watched as Martha smiled, packed up, and left. It really was okay. Something told her that Martha wasn't going to be gone for long. None of the others were ever gone for more than a few days after all.

Sorry to bother you my beautiful people. I just wanted to remind you that votes and comments really do determine how quickly I'll update. I love writing and working and I know I should write for myself, but the audience matters as much or more than my opinions. So really don't be afraid to tell me what you think. It really helps.

Also: Sorry for not updating in a while. I've been dealing with family and graduation shtuffs.