Martha's Tale.

Handing over a mug of coffee to Martha Jack sank into the sofa ensuring he did not spill a drop. Using his toes he flicked off his shoes and placed both socked feet onto the coffee table and let out a deep sigh.

"Here's to a wonderful party," Martha said as they touched mugs and Jack took a deep sip.

Several moments passed as they enjoyed the peace and quiet. With Morag and Martha's help the house had been restored. The only thing left was a pile of washing up which Jack had promised Ianto he would leave for him as he so enjoyed stacking the dishwasher. Ianto had gone up to bed worn out.

They enjoyed the long rays of the evening sun which filled the room with a warm orange glow. Taking one more sip Jack turned to Martha. "Alright, I'm ready but before you speak you should know Owen has already spoken to me along with Doctor Singh," he said openly.

"I know; he told me. None of us are convinced Jack so you should drop the 'I've just had a busy summer getting over a cold story' because you're not fooling any of us. I know Owen and Veronica are both worried about you. I am too. But that's not why I stayed behind," she saw Jack relax back into the sofa.

"You and me Jack; we saw the end of the world and survived." She saw him nod. "It's been so hard. It's like it never happened except you and me know it did. My parents sort of understand but they have had to deal with their own difficulties, at least they have each other and they shared a common experience. But I am on my own." She looked at Jack who took her hand.

"I know" he said quietly.

"While you were on the Valiant I walked the ends of the earth. Most of it I was on the run, living on the edge, not knowing if I could make it through another day. Each day waking up and forcing myself forward," she tried to explain. "Then it all changed, everything returned to normal: supermarket shopping, driving a car, hot water, toast, traffic...Eastenders. " Jack stroked her hand as she swallowed. "As I said I've been having difficulty dealing with the stress of what happened. I was talking to someone about this. I couldn't give them any details or they would think I was mad. To help they suggested I write it down. Everything I could remember as a way of getting it out of my brain and making it more real. It's in black and white on paper so it has substance."

"So that's what I started to do. Writing it down, and as I did I began to recall things; stories, rumours, things that were reported to me as I travelled. As chaotic as it was and as overwhelming as the Master's control was there was a resistance. It had humble beginnings all over the world. It was part of the reason I was able to go from place to place."

"The Master was ruthless; he would flatten whole towns to wipe out a cell. One by one they were all wiped out. I don't think he ever truly wiped out everyone but he did break up the bigger, more organised groups into smaller cells, with no communication they became more and more isolated."

"I think Torchwood was one of those groups in South Wales, centred on Cardiff. They ran a running battle with the Master for weeks. Their sheer audacity was their hallmark. You name it they did it; pitched battles, blowing up supply depots that the Master relied on. Smuggling individuals about, getting in medical help...you name it. Sabotage; internal, external, anything. Their leader said 'every act of resistance meant they tied down the Toclafane'. If they were harassing them then the resistance delayed whatever the Master was planning."

"They had a symbol: a V with a line through it like an upside down A. It began to appear all over the place but none more so than South West of England and Wales. It spread out, and no matter where it appeared a new cell would form in response. It drove the Master mad. He spent more resources hunting down the members of this one group than any other. Their leader was called Axel. He was a hands' on leader who believed on leading by example. He was as reckless in his courage as he was brave. But he was loved for it; just his turning up was enough to give people the strength to continue fighting back. He was renowned; I heard about him all over the place, his message being passed on word of mouth." She became sad.

"With the risks he took it was only a matter of time before he was going to be caught. It was during a raid on the depot for supplies to the Valiant that he was captured. He suffered for weeks; along with the torture they filled him with drugs to make him speak. He endured the unspeakable, but he remained silent; he refused to give them a single name. Somehow his story was smuggled off the Valiant. He became a legend. Many people went into battle with 'for Axel' on their lips. He gave people something more precious than food or medicine: he gave them courage when there was no hope that anyone would survive. His endurance became a symbol to those still surviving that they too could endure. That even waking up alive became an act of defiance. Surviving to the end of each day was a victory. I cannot tell you how much his suffering meant to all of us."

"I can see he meant a great deal to you," Jack as he saw how affected she was.

"Does Ianto have a star-shaped scar on his upper right arm?" She asked quietly after several moments had passed.

Jack's eyes flew open at her question as the importance of her story began to become clear. "Yes, yes he does."

"Jack I think Ianto is Axel." She saw him become emotional; closing his eyes...

"Are you certain?"

"It fits Jack; the scar, he has no finger and palm prints. I know only the Axel's group managed to do this because every group I encountered asked me if I knew how to achieve it."

"The scar?"

"He got it during a raid. It's a mark left by a particular energy weapon and..." she stuttered.

"And"

"The scars on his back; it was said that the Master used an 'Amber' whip as punishment. There was a lash mark for every act he and his group did."

Several moments passed as Jack struggled to compose himself. "There are so many," he choked. "One for every…"

"I know Jack. There are marks upon marks, neck to ankle." She tried to comfort him but he pulled away and stood up.

She watched as he walked to the window and looked out. She was not sure how much time passed when she heard him break down. Standing herself she went and stood beside him and placed her hand on his back.

"And what was the reward for all his suffering?" he struggled to say. "He should have been returned to life, living a life, one where he had a real future, instead of this half-life." He took in a shuddered breath. "If I had got him off that ship…" he left the rest unsaid.

"Jack, I was there," Martha argued.

"My failure is complete" Jack said under his breath and took Martha by the shoulders. "His suffering was for nothing. All he is now is a derelict; a hollow shell. Martha, he can't recall the simplest things; he has to be reminded over and over again. He's a man trapped in a mind of a five year old. A brilliant five year old but one that will never grow up. His body has been destroyed; he's lost all sexual function. You have no idea how he struggles with the simplest tasks we take for granted, like using the telephone. He loves motorbikes but will never be able to use one or drive a car. He's had everything stolen from him that was vital to him that meant he could lead an independent life making his own decisions."

"It wasn't for nothing Jack! I pray whenever tyranny exists there will be someone like Ianto. A soul who can demonstrate that it's not possible to destroy the human spirit no matter the odds." She stopped when she saw the look of despair on Jack's face. "Ianto made his choices. He could have chosen to walk away, but he didn't. He faced the worst the Master had to throw at him and survived."

"He was left behind. That is something I have to live with every day." He pointed towards the stairs. "He has to live with the consequences of my failure."

"You are being incredibly unfair Jack, it was chaos." She took a sharp breath. "I was there too Jack, I helped! I thought we had checked every room! We threw everyone off we could including all the dead bodies." She saw the haunted look on his face. "You can't blame yourself for this," Martha told him, distressed, as she tried to make her point." Time was re-winding it was worse than frantic. We did the best we could."

Jack looked at her sharply. "Not good enough!"

"Tell me then what more could you I or anyone else have done!"

"I should have gotten him off," he replied stubbornly.

"I think you are being very hard on yourself. If nothing else I should share some of the blame."

He shook his head. "No Martha, this is my failure in more ways than you can imagine."

"How Jack? Tell me how this is your fault." She looked at him and felt a shudder pass through her and her face dropped. "No Jack. No. Tell me you…you don't Jack...no, please... you can't! That's..."

"This is my burden. I failed Ianto in every possible way it is to fail someone and still be living. But I don't have a choice and nor does he. Any choice Ianto had was taken from him the moment I ran towards the TARDIS," he said quietly.

"I don't believe that Jack; I won't accept that what happened was your fault and yours alone."

"I have chosen my penance: to stand by the man I love, who loves me more than I ever deserved. As you have rightly pointed out Ianto has an incredible soul who continues to show the world that it is possible to overcome the worst monstrous acts. "

"But what about your suffering?"

"I see that now as just punishment." She heard him say. She felt a tear roll down her face. "I don't think there's even a category for my crimes against humanity, but I'm guilty on every charge."

"Not to me Jack, never to me!" she said as she tried to comfort him. "Never to me!"

"Ianto loves me, and I love him. He loves me. That is Ianto's gift to me."

"Listen to me you are not a monster," she began to argue back but stopped in that instant because she knew Jack had locked himself into his own guilt. She knew no argument she could give would convince him otherwise so she just stood beside him as they watched the sun dip below the wall of the garden. She heard him let out a deep sigh as a deeper understanding grew of why Jack looked so terrible, and promised herself that when this all came crashing down she would be there for him.