Jack was holding a small glass globe with a picture of a young woman inside, a memento of a love long lost. He stopped himself as he was about to put it in a drawer. The orb was cold and heavy in his hand as he stared at the image, wishing hologram technology had been available at the time it had been made. He briefly wondered how many loves he would lose throughout his infinite life and let the globe slip from his hand into the drawer with a soft thud, it rolled to the back of it, most likely to be forgotten.
As he closed the drawer he looked up and saw Martha waiting in his office doorway. "Are you alright?" she asked softly her voice full of concern. "How long has it been since you've had a break?"
"Actually," said Jack as he got up from behind his desk, "that's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Here have a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of his desk as he came around and sat on the corner of it, keeping one leg on the ground He assumed a casual pose, as if he was about to talk about last week's football game. He was gathering his thoughts trying to think of how to begin. However it was Martha who started off the conversation.
"Are you going to tell me why I'm really here?" she asked him as she sat down. "Ianto said you needed someone with my expertise. You needed a geriatric expert for what we just did, not me."
"You have the clearances."
"And you have retcon. Come on Jack, I don't have time for these games. I have a patient to attend to. You wanted me here for a reason, what is it?"
Jack looked down and shook his head. "You're right. I'm stalling and the ambassador isn't the reason we brought you here. He was more a test subject."
"A test subject!" cried Martha. "You might have killed him! In fact you may have!" The chair scraped along the floor as she jumped to her feet, furious. "What do you think you are doing here? Have you lost your mind?"
Jack held up a hand trying to deflect her anger. "Look, it's more than that. He needed the procedure done. If what was inside him continued to grow he'd been in much worse shape than he is right now."
"He was obviously stressed before the procedure. You could have given him time to regain his strength a little before you 'cured' him," replied Martha as she took her seat again.
Jack sighed. "No I couldn't have, as I said, he was the test subject. We weren't even sure if he was infected. The real subject is in much worse shape. Right now he seems to be holding his own more or less, but I'm not sure how much longer that will be the case. The creature that is inside him has grown so strong it is equal in size to his own life energy, and he appears to be getting weaker as it gets stronger."
"If it's so urgent why are you wasting time here? Why aren't you getting the creature out of your real subject ?"
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. She'd struck a sore point. Every fiber of him wanted to start working on the Doctor now, but he didn't dare. "The ambassador is the first time I've successfully used the device and that was a juvenile that was inside him, an infant really. It took far more concentration, speed and coordination than I thought it would. I've been going too long without a break and I need to rest before I tackle the other one. The safeties on the device we used aren't working. A single mistake could be fatal."
"Jack, you used a dodgy device on a British Ambassador so you could test it out before you used it on the real victim? What were you thinking? Who's the real victim, a royal?"
"Martha," Jack said softly, hesitating before finishing his reply, his stomach knotting at his anticipation of her reaction. "It's the Doctor."
Martha stood up like a shot. "Where is he?" she demanded. Why didn't you tell me he was sick when I arrived here? I didn't see the TARDIS in the Plas. Did he park it somewhere else? Is that where he is?" The questions continued to pour out with no break for an answer. Jack let them run their course, while he decided how to answer the first one. He knew how she felt and she wasn't going to be too pleased with where the Doctor was. Finally she came back round to her original question.
"Jack, where is he? I need to see him," she demanded with an authority that she must have acquired at UNIT.
"He's in a holding cell. Ianto tried…" Jack caught Martha's waist as she tried to run past him.
"How could you put him there?" she cried as she struggled to get free. "He should be in the infirmary, not that ambassador." She thumped him hard on the shoulder. "What were you thinking? I thought you were his friend." Another thump on top of the first, Jack could feel a bruise starting to form.
"Martha, Martha." Jack's voice was firm but quiet. "Listen to me. The holding cell was his idea. He put himself there. Ianto tried to move him and the Doctor paid for it. I tried to go to him and he suffered again. We can't get near him and you can't go to him. As much as I hate where he is, he knew what he was doing, and he was right." He felt Martha stop struggling and relax in his arms as his words got through to her.
"So you're telling me he wants to be in a cell?" she asked as she wiped tears from her eyes.
"No, I don't think that is where he wants to be, but he knows that is where he needs to be. It's where he insisted that he be. I was just as upset as you are when I found out. I thought… Well, never mind what I thought. But the Doctor insisted he be put in a cell, one that allows us to flash burn anything in it. He's counting on us to save him and do the right thing if we can't. Whatever is in him, can't be allowed to spread."
"Jack, you're not saying you're going to…" Martha stopped, unable to utter the unthinkable.
Jack held her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. "Not if there is any way I can prevent it. That is only as a very last resort. But to prevent that from happening, I have to make sure that everything is done correctly. I won't sugar coat it, the Doctor is in a very bad state, he won't survive any mistakes on our part, and we have reason to believe he won't regenerate either."
Martha swallowed hard as she looked up at the captain, fear mixed with determination in her eyes. "Alright Jack, what do you need me to do?"
"First, and this will be the hardest for you, you have to promise me you will stay away from the cell block." He felt the young doctor stiffen under his hands as a protest formed on her lips. "I mean it! It hurts him right now if we get near him. I think it distracts him from the battle he is in or perhaps he has to make an extra effort to protect us. I'm not sure which, but I do know it causes him pain."
He turned her around to face the main monitor in his office. "Watch, you can see for yourself." Keeping one hand on her shoulder, he reached over to his keyboard and with a few quick clicks, brought up the footage he himself had reviewed over and over again, searching for any clues as to what was wrong with his friend. It started from when the Doctor first doubled over and continued to when Ianto armed the cell.
Martha's eyes went wide and her hand covered her open mouth as she watched the display. Jack could tell she wanted to look away, not see the pain and desperation on the Doctor's face, hear the fear in his halting voice as he struggled to communicate with Ianto his need to be in a cell. Her breathing stopped when she saw the Doctor desperately fling himself towards the sterilization cell and did not return until she saw Ianto arm the cell and the screen went blank.
"Jack, how did he get like that?" Martha asked as she turned towards him, her voice pleading for an answer, some explanation for the horror she had just seen.
"We don't know," explained Jack. "He arrived here a few days ago. Didn't seem to be himself, but he was pretty evasive. You know how he is, wouldn't admit anything was wrong." Martha nodded as Jack continued. "I figured he just needed some rest."
His next sentence was lost in a yawn. "Martha, explanations are going to have to wait till later. Right now I'm the only one who knows how to operate that device and I am too tired to do it safely." He hated himself for what he said next. "I need to sleep before I try again." He changed the view on the monitor to the Doctors cell, the display showed medical readouts along the side.
"He's in bad shape, Jack. I'm surprised he hasn't regenerated by now."
"We think he won't regenerate," Jack explained, "and if he does, you heard him, he's given instructions the cell is to be flashed."
"But, why, why would he say that?" cried Martha.
"We don't know and right now, it's not important."
"Jack!"
"No, really, it isn't. What's important is that we save him, the answers come later."
Jack considered the monitor and silently apologized to his friend for his weakness, his uncharacteristic caution. "Watch him for me," he asked without taking his gaze from the monitor. "Wake me if he has a sudden drop in his condition. Until then, get hold of anything you might need to treat him once we get that thing out of him. And find that stuff they give to fighter pilots who are sleep deprived, modafinil I think it's called. I don't trust it, but I don't trust myself in my current state. If I don't get enough sleep, I'm going to have to use it, against my better judgment."
"Are you going to be able to sleep?" Martha asked, her voice was filled with concern. Jack couldn't tell if that concern was for him or the Doctor. Perhaps both.
Jack nodded. "It's one thing you learn as a time agent. To catch sleep when you can, whenever you need to, and right now, I need to."
Martha turned and stared at the monitor with Jack as she asked hopefully, "What if I used the device?"
The Torchwood leader considered that possibility. The monitor showed the Doctor's condition was stable but dire. Martha might be able to handle the device, but he had been surprised by how hard it had been to extract the juvenile. The creature in the Doctor would be much more difficult. His experience with the device would increase the odds and Martha would never forgive herself if something went wrong. It was better he do it. He had more experience dealing with guilt.
"No, I need you sharp for after the creature is out," he answered, rejecting her offer. "The Doctor is going to need a lot of attention. You saw how much using the device took out of me. I don't want to get that thing out of him and then lose him because our only medic is incapacitated."
"But Jack…"
"No Martha, it would take me as long to teach you how to use it as I'm planning on sleeping. This way is better. Trust me."
Martha appeared unconvinced, but nodded her acquiescence.
"Alright if that's settled, I'm going to get some rest. Wake me if anything changes." He left Martha in his office and headed for his bedroom stopping to pick up the device along the way.
Martha continued to stare at the monitor, assessing the Doctor's condition, as she sat down at Jack's desk. His wrist was definitely broken. According to the readout on the monitor, he was dehydrated and there was damage to several organs. She was going to need splints and casting material. Saline solution, IV kit, oxygen mask might all be needed also, and perhaps a respirator. Martha was forming up the list when there was a knock on the office door. She looked up and saw it was Gwen.
"The medical transport is almost here," Gwen explained. "We could use your help getting him to the entrance. We can't allow strangers in the infirmary unless we use retcon."
Martha nodded and stood up, unnecessarily wiping her hands on her lab coat, trying to cover her feeling of guilt over having forgotten about her previous patient. "How is the ambassador doing?" she asked as she made her way to the door.
"He seems the same," Gwen replied. "His heart rate slowed when Ianto gave him the retcon, but that's normal and his oxygen saturation stayed the same."
Martha was about to question why Ianto had done that and stopped herself. She knew why. Jack had ordered it and of course he would. "I should have known," she thought shaking her head. "For someone who claims to be a rebel, Jack follows security protocols with a zeal to be envied."
"Are you alright?" Gwen asked, her hand gently touching Martha's arm.
Martha saw Gwen's sincere concern in her clear hazel eyes. "I'm fine, just a random thought. Let's get the patient out to the reception."
While the rest of the team worked on getting the ambassador to the reception. Jack slept, fully clothed, his hand on the device that was the Doctor's only hope of survival. As he had drifted off to sleep, his desperation caused him to say a silent prayer to any gods that might be listening, though there were none he believed in, for assistance in the task he that lay ahead of him.