I know it's a little short, but I felt that I'd kept you all waiting long enough... I also wanted to get this out because I felt that the time was right for the dedication.

I'm starting to realise that I'm rapidly turning Martha into a depressed nothing's-ever-going-to-be-alright-ever-again kind of person. I'm trying to change, but I think my strong point is angst when it comes to writing...

Thanks again to Noofle, for being an amazing BETA at short notice, and correcting my many mistakes. (Seriously, thanks:))

And now on a serious note: This chapter is dedicated to the memories of Alan Bannon and James Shears, the firefighters who tragically lost their lives fighting a fire in a flat on the 9th floor of a 13-storey building in Southampton (friends of the familly). R.I.P. :'(

Martha stood, cradling Harry in one hand, holding the Doctor's coat in the other, hugging both close, not caring about the blood on either one of them. She dried her tears with a clean section of material, hoping that she would be able to get it cleaned by the time he got back. Jack jogged back into the cell, just slightly out of breath. After the Master had got away with the Doctor (again) Jack had quickly set about getting the UNIT soldiers back into the helicopter, with the hope of getting back to their HQ and pinning the Master down ASAP.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on Martha." He looked down at the quivering ball of fur in her hand. "Harry needs medical attention, and if we hurry, we can still find the Doctor before anything else happens to him."

Martha nodded, and then frowned as she thought of the medical team in the helicopter. "But I thought those doctor's in the helicopter couldn't treat animals?" She hiccupped.

Jack smiled knowingly. "Oh they can. I mean, Harry deserves it, he's probably saved more planets than I have, right?" He looked over at the hamster, who squeaked quietly, then burrowed into Martha's jacket for warmth, evidently deciding that it was time that the jacket had a nest in the inside pocket. Chuckling, Jack looked back to Martha. "They can and they will, whether they like it or not!" He took her hand, and led her out of the cell.

As they approached the helicopter, Martha took one last look around, trying to get a sense of what the Master had felt, what he had aimed to achieve by bringing the Doctor here. True, it was desolate, away from prying eyes. No-one would bother him here, so he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. She could see the Master's logic, even if she hated him for it.

Looking back at the warehouse, she was sure that she could almost feel the Doctor; his sense of dread, despair and hopelessness. She had seen how the Master's death had affected him, after the Year That Never Was. He had become withdrawn and depressed within minutes of Jack's departure, after the Captain had politely refused to go travelling with him again, and he had admitted to her at a later date that it was unfair on her. He had said that he had been hoping for Jack to stick around, as she and Jack could have gone off and done whatever humans do while he got over his depression and finally came to his senses again.

But of course she hadn't known that at the time. That was why she had left him that day. She had told him that it was so she could help her family, and it was, mostly. The other part had been that she wanted to give the Doctor time to himself. So she had given him a few weeks, and then called him, ordering that he have dinner with her family. He had whined and moaned, but when she had contacted Jack, and he had managed to drag the TARDIS to Cardiff and impound it, the Doctor had relented, and grudgingly sat down to a meal with Martha, her family and Jack. He had chatted to Francine like an old friend, started getting to know Clive and Leo, laughed at jokes that Tish told, and told Jack off for flirting with everyone, including the Doctor himself at one point.

Martha smiled at the memory. She had enjoyed that day, and afterwards the Doctor had gone off again, this time taking Jack with him. A few weeks later they returned, and her family had almost thrown her into the spaceship, telling her that they would be fine and not to worry. So she had gone travelling with them again.

It was like everything had been back to normal. They had visited so many worlds, saved planets, and of course, done an outrageous amount of running (but that came with the job so she didn't mind). The Doctor had seemed fine then. It seemed that the time with Jack had done him a galaxy of good, and they were all happy and doing what they did best. But now this had brought it all back.

She could feel Jack's hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her to their transport. As grateful as she was for his support, she couldn't help but feel that it wasn't quite enough. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It wasn't that it wasn't good enough, just that he wasn't the Doctor. They had failed to get him back, and no matter how much she was trying, she was finding it hard to feel good about anything right now.

Much to Jack's surprise, she suddenly she stopped dead, staring behind the helicopter. She ignored Jack's protests, shushing him, before taking hold of his arm and pulling him away, towards the small wood she had spotted. Jack quickly caught on and quietened down, he in turn changing their direction and leading her to the small door in the side of the building that they had just left. There was blood on the inside handle, as well as splatters on its metal panels and the surrounding walls. On the ground, at the join between inside and out, they could see a clear trail of dark red following a trail of signs of someone struggling away, preserved in the sopping mud.

As they followed the tracks, the enormity of the Doctor's situation hit Martha. He must have been terrified, having to face the Master alone, knowing he had no hope of winning. She tried to see it from his perspective, and she had to admit, that even in the pouring rain, that forest in the distance was looking very, very inviting. They walked on, and Martha began to appreciate, more so than before, how hard it must have been for the Doctor; the only other remaining member of his race was his arch nemesis. Why did it have to be like this? The Doctor saved hundreds of lives every day, sometimes even those who didn't deserve to be saved, and gave them a chance to start over and get a better life. Yet one of his own kind wanted nothing more than to see him dead? Other than destroy the odd planet and foil plans, what had the Doctor done to deserve this? He had said, just before the Year That Never Was, that he and the Master had once been friends, best friends even, so what could have happened to shatter that bond and set them against each other? What could have been so bad?

Martha shuddered at the thought. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, and she was sure that if anyone asked the Doctor about it, then it wasn't going to be her. Jack was walking beside her, so it was easy for him to grab her arm and stop her pointing dead ahead. They had found it. Martha walked forward slowly, taking in the hugeness of the tree in front of her, gently placing a hand on the rough bark, silently thanking it for trying to help her friend. It had failed, but it was the thought that counted. Glancing to the side, she saw Jack staring up at the large branch directly above him. It was a very familiar looking branch, and to think that the Doctor had been here mere minutes ago. It was unnerving. The camera on Martha's phone hadn't provided a very good picture; the tree was tall, a lot taller than they had thought, and there were almost no foot or hand-holds for a Time Lord with an injured leg, or anyone for that matter, to try to climb away from a sadistic torturer.

Jack patted the trunk a few times. "Thanks for trying!" He smiled, taking a step back and almost slipping in the still wet mud. He quickly righted himself and chuckled nervously, glancing at Martha to make sure she hadn't seen anything of his lone struggle with gravity. "Come on Martha!" he called, turning back the way they had come, searching the ground for a safe place to step. It wasn't the mud which caught his eye. It was the crumpled remains of Martha's phone, half-trampled into the sodden ground.

Carefully picking his way over to it, he bent down and picked it up, wiping off the worst of the grime and catching Martha's eye as he stood. She too made her way over, accepting the phone from Jack and holding it up.

"Funny," she thought, "how a tiny thing like this can change even the worst of circumstances..." If she concentrated, she could almost feel the Doctor's fingers around the device, clasping it tight. She straightened up, helping Jack to his feet (he'd fallen over in the sludge beneath them) and starting to make her way back to the assembled UNIT personnel. As she approached, the last few soldiers filing inside, she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder again, turning her around and looking into her face.

"You know we're gonna get him back." It wasn't a question, Martha realised; it was a statement, a simple fact.

She nodded, watching silently as Jack did the same a few seconds later. Then she turned and walked up the ramp, hearing it slide shut and finally close with a loud clang. Sitting down in her seat, she remembered that she still had Harry in her pocket and quickly stood up again. The helicopter lifted off, tilting them all sideways and making her grab out for support, the nearest of which just happened to be Jack's hair. She smiled apologetically and hurriedly side-stepped over to the medical team in the corner, gently lifting Harry out as she did. The hamster squealed quietly, wriggling, trying to get back to the warmth of the nest he had made in the new pocket he had found himself in. She gently soothed him, stroking his back before holding him out in cupped hands to one of the medics. The offending white-coated man stared incredulously, sniffing at the small animal in front of him as if to say "What do you expect me to do with that?" Martha was very aware of the soldiers behind her watching her every move.

"He's with the Doctor, and he's injured. You can help him, I know you can. So stop being so snooty and show him some respect."

"Ma'am, I am trained to treat people, not pets-" he began, but Jack cut across him.

"Well mate, this pet as you so politely put it, has probably saved a lot more lives than you have, and now he needs your help. So maybe you could give him a little TLC, or you'll have me, Martha, AND the Doctor to deal with." Jack glared at the rapidly paling medic, who accepted Harry from Martha's outstretched hands and gently placed him on his lap, assessing the damage.

Martha's shoulders sagged as she moved back to her seat, sat down, and leant her chin on her hands, staring straight ahead.

Jack Harkness considered himself competent when it came to reading women's emotions, and right now his keen senses were telling him that, whatever Martha said, she was far from alright. He slid off his seat, ignoring the confused faces of the soldiers around him, and squatting in front of his friend , sitting back on his heels, elbows on knees, chin on open palms, eyes fixed on hers.

"Wassup?" he asked as well as he could with his mouth restricted as it was currently. Martha looked up, seemingly surprised by his presence. She seemed as if she was considering ignoring him, though then decided against it.

"It's just... the Doctor's saved the world so often, we'd all be dead millions of times over if it wasn't for him. He's died for this planet Jack, several times, and yet a trained medic won't even help his hamster without being threatened..." She paused, as if composing herself "Why is it so hard for someone to help him after all he's done for us and the rest of the Universe?"

Jack sighed; he should have guessed it was something like that. "Look Martha, you know us, the human race, we're a bunch of stupid apes compared to the Doctor. He saves the world on a daily basis. It's just a normal day to him. But these guys-" he gestured around him. "They aren't used to all this stuff; life and death. The highlight of their career is a few alien pregnancies or a Weevil or two that Torchwood missed. They've just got to get involved in the first place, coz right now it's all too big for them." He stood up, waving his arms about him, encompassing the whole of the group surrounding them, then raised his voice "-They just need to realise how big this whole thing is so that they can get their backsides in gear and get on with it! OK?!"

He glared hard at the man closest to him. The soldier broke his gaze first. Jack snorted, patted Martha's arm, and sat back down.

CURRY CAKE RULES!

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Not to seem desperate or anything...... But PLEASE!

OK, I'm done.

Reviewers get banana's!