DAY 151

Atom Bomb Baby

Martha

There was no mistaking the two faint coloured lines. They were there alright, they were there and they matched the key on the side of the little plastic stick perfectly. She held it in her trembling hands, completely frozen in the bathroom and locked in a world of her own. Martha was a doctor, she knew all the symptoms, all the signs, so why had she not picked up on this until now, until the TARDIS produced one such stick for her by the side of the sink and she had decided to do it on an impulsive whim? But it had to have been there for a reason, and maybe she had been ignoring the signs rather than not noticing them, like people always ignored things they didn't want to be real.

But now Martha Jones felt powerless, and she just stared at the thing in her hand, and didn't know what to think. She didn't know whether to be happy or sad, elated or terrified, appalled or proud. But there it was, in dual shades of pastel set into in that plastic lump which was now stained with urine: she was pregnant.

"How much longer are you going to be in there?" Mickey called through the door. He kept knocking on it but she hadn't been able to bring herself to answer, she was in too much shock. She didn't even know how long it had been, but it must have been a while if he was getting so agitated outside. "Martha? Are you alright? You haven't tripped and hit your head or something, have you?"

"I haven't tripped," she managed to speak when he thought she was in some kind of danger. But who knew, maybe she was in some kind of danger - she didn't really know what this meant for any of them. Finally, Martha swallowed and spoke in a very shaky voice to her husband on the other side of the bathroom door, "You should come in." He had been lurking right outside, so when she invited him in he opened the door – which didn't even have a lock.

"What's going on?" he asked her, and she stared at him and held the test in her hand. "What? Martha?" he pressed her, looking worried. If he was that worried about her without even seeing the thing, how was he going to react when she stuck out her hand towards him for him to look at it. For a split-second when she did this, she was very worried that Mickey might faint, though it had been years before she had known him that he had been prone to having those kinds of outlandish reactions. He looked at it, and became just as dumbstruck as her. "You're…? Oh my god, oh my god. How long have you known?"

"However long I've been in the bathroom this morning," she mumbled, looking at it again like the marks might change the more she willed them to with her eyes. Not that she wanted to not be pregnant, it was just… they had never talked about it, it was unplanned and unprecedented. And terrifying.

Five Years Ago

"Happy anniversary to you, happy anniversary to you, happy anniversary Mickey and Martha, happy anniversary to you!" Ianto was the only one who sang when he brought out a box of cupcakes to bestow upon them, taking Martha greatly by surprise.

"That was way too many syllables," Mickey said. It really was a rather poorly-crafted parody of Happy Birthday.

"Are we all allowed buns or just those two?" Gwen interrupted, "I haven't had time to have any breakfast this morning."

"As your doctor, I don't recommend muffins as part of a balanced breakfast," Martha joked.

"I don't know – I think Ianto's balancing them all quite well," Jack quipped, and they all laughed, and Ianto opened the plastic packaging that betrayed the treats as being shop-bought rather than home-baked and let everyone take a bun. To Martha it seemed odd to celebrate their one-month anniversary of working for Torchwood Three, but thought that they were trying to make she and Mickey feel welcome and less like cold replacements for Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato respectively. Even though she did sometimes think it was only her who felt like she was walking in somebody else's shoes all day. It was just odd to think of either of them as gone.

"Eurgh, is this red velvet?" Gwen mumbled with her mouth full after taking a bite.

"Martha's favourite," Ianto said, catching Martha's eye and smiling for a second.

"Should've got them a carrot cake," Gwen said, spitting the half-chewed stuff back onto the cupcake and dropping it into the waste-paper bin next to her – which was definitely not the right place for it to go.

"You're the only one that likes carrot cake," Ianto said to Gwen.

"Well I didn't bloody well see a carrot cake when it was my one-month anniversary," she remarked.

"We got you pizza," Jack said.

"No, you got yourselves pizza because I was with Rhys and when I got in the next morning you said there were two slices in the fridge, but Owen had been at them and picked off all the meat and half the cheese," said Gwen, "And then Tosh felt bad for me so she gave me half a brioche."

"More cupcakes for the rest of us then if you're being unappreciative," Jack said, "Takeaway for your dinners, on me, what do you want?" Mickey had been unable to speak for this entire conversation because he had been wolfing down as many treats as he could get his hands on until Martha nudged him when Jack addressed them.

"Huh?" he asked.

"I said takeout," Jack reiterated.

"Chinese," Mickey garbled, finishing off the one he had in his hand. Jack looked at Martha and she shrugged.

"Fine by me."

"Then Chinese it is," Jack declared.

"I'll make a note," Ianto said. Whether he meant a mental note or he was literally going to make a note with a pencil and paper, Martha didn't know, but neither would surprise her.

"Hey, you two, save some of those for the rest of us, for later. Looking at you, Mickey," Jack said to them, pointing at his eyes then at Mickey, who had his mouth full again. The group dispersed and they all went back to their individual tasks, which were a lot of admin currently. Martha had been called up from the morgue to get the cakes from Ianto and was now loitering and picking crumbs out of the paper wrapper, because she didn't really have anything pressing to be getting on with.

"Do you think it's weird they got us buns?" Martha asked Mickey, who was the only person still around. Jack had gone back to his office, Ianto back to the front desk, Gwen away at her own station sorting through recent 999 calls to see if anything interesting cropped up. It seemed like only Martha didn't have anything to do, because there wasn't a lot for her if there wasn't a body, and Mickey had been tasked with organising the files at present. "And sang a song?"

"I'm guessing they didn't sing songs at UNIT?" Mickey joked.

"You'd be right," she muttered. She didn't really miss UNIT. She had quit her position as Medical Officer as soon as the planets-in-the-sky debacle with the Daleks had ended. She had quit UNIT, and she had broken off her engagement and entire relationship with paediatrician Tom Milligan because it just hadn't been working out, since they very rarely saw each other and she could never talk to him about her work or a lot of her past. "What about at parallel Earth Torchwood?"

"Oh, yeah, songs all the time," said Mickey, "Just UNIT who are the boring ones."

"Maybe I should have called Jack for a job years ago," she mused, "What are you doing? Anything fun?" Mickey laughed.

"I wish. Still trying to learn my way around Tosh's filing system. She was only about a million times cleverer than me, I don't know why I'm meant to be her replacement," he complained.

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it," Martha assured him.

"Says you, you're already the best in your field. I should be working with machines, or something, and they should hire someone else for the computers," he said.

"Don't think like that, really, you'll figure it out." He smiled.

Jack came back into the room clapping his hands loudly to get everybody's attention. Martha nearly covered her ears, and thought he was a stone's throw away from getting a pair of symbols to crash at each other whenever he wanted to draw attention to himself. Not that Jack wasn't already a master of drawing attention to himself.

"We're a-go; just got a call from an old detective friend about a murder the police can't work out," he practically shouted.

"Detective friend?" Gwen asked wryly, getting out of her chair and picking her leather jacket off the back of it, "Since when do you have detective friends – I'm supposed to be the police liaison."

"I've been seeing Andy on the side," Jack winked at her, pulling on his coat.

"But really, who is it?"

"DI Swanson, Kathy Swanson, helped us out with those retcon murders when Suzie Costello brought herself back to life, you remember," Jack said, "Sounds gruesome, better get your kit, Martha. All hands-on deck - to the SUV!" And it really was gruesome when they finally saw it. One of the ghastliest things Martha had ever seen in her whole career.

Only Ianto stayed back at base, the other four came speeding down to where Kathy Swanson had pointed Jack, with him giving directions to Mickey, who was driving. Gwen and Martha were in the back. They didn't have far to travel, though, just to another part of inner Cardiff.

"What did she tell you, then, Kathy?" Gwen asked Jack, Martha looking out of the window and watching the grey and damp office blocks whoosh by.

"Said it's nasty," Jack explained, "Homeless guy. Sight of the body made one of the CSIs sick. Steel your stomachs, especially you, Martha."

"Don't worry about my stomach, I've seen plenty of gore," Martha said.

"Yeah, so had the CSI. Been in the business over twenty years. I'm just saying, prepare for the worst. Didn't sound like she could tell us much else, don't think the local force are up to much use these days," Jack sighed, "No offence, Gwen." Gwen didn't say anything, but looked quite offended, in fairness. "Has to be pretty bad for them to willingly call in Torchwood."

"Normally we just show up," Gwen said, "Probably why no one likes us."

"Speak for yourself, everyone likes me," Jack grinned at them in the rear-view mirror.

"I can name a lot of people who don't like you," Mickey said.

"Hey! Like who?"

"That bloke you punched in that kebab shop last week."

"He was asking for it," Jack said, "He called me a homo and tried to spit at me."

"Yeah," said Mickey, "So he definitely didn't like you."

Jack glared at him and then glanced out of the window, "It's this left. Park on the corner." Mickey indicated and turned into an alley with double yellow lines on either side, in the realm of a few scuzzy nightclubs Martha had quickly learnt to avoid if she ever went on a night out. Though she had only done that once with Gwen and her friends, and it had been an interesting experience she was less than willing to repeat. "Out, out, out, get the bags. Usual formation, c'mon." Jack and Gwen left immediately, well-practiced, with Mickey and Martha stumbling when they followed.

"What's the usual formation?" Mickey whispered to her, grabbing a bag out of the car boot.

"I have no idea, just try to look important," she answered, "And you're holding my medical kit."

"Oh, sorry," he handed her the bag and took out another one. "Hey, are you alright?"

"What?"

"I don't know, you just seem a bit… glum, you know?"

"This isn't really a good time for a heart to heart," she said, pushing through some police who were all very pale and shaky. There was still a slight drizzle, leftovers from the thunderstorm that had been raging all night. That was when the smell hit her, a stench leaking out of the damp crevices of the alleyway. They just about caught up with Jack and Gwen when they started talking with a woman Martha assumed was this DI Kathy Swanson.

"What's the damage, inspector?" Jack asked.

"You tell us, nobody wants to have anything to do with it," she said, "It's either I pass it on to my superiors or to you lot."

"Aw, I'm touched you thought of us," he said, "Bit of a whiff around here, isn't there?"

"It's the body. Listen, this is your gig now, I'm clearing out all my officers and the forensics teams, they're itching to leave. Some of them are going to need to have therapy after seeing that body."

"That bad?" Mickey asked. Swanson frowned at him.

"Who are you?"

"Let me introduce you to Mickey Smith and the good Dr Martha Jones," Jack said, "Our new recruits, rookies. We're showing them the ropes."

"I'll show you a rope in a minute," Martha grumbled.

"Sounds kinky." At that Swanson took her leave, and pulled the rest of the Cardiff police force with her. "Martha, you're on the body; Mickey, go with her and look for any clues inside the tent; Gwen, go talk to the police before they leave and see if there are any witnesses or CCTV cameras. I'm going to have a look around these streets."

"Be careful not to fall into that drain, then," Gwen said, nodding at a sewer drain where the grate on top was nowhere to be seen, "That's a death trap waiting to happen, somebody ought to write to the council to get the cover replaced."

"Be my guest," Jack told her, "Now get to chit-chatting." He went off one direction and Gwen slipped away back where they had come from, towards the illegally parked SUV, leaving Mickey and Martha to go into the white tent that had been erected over the corpse.

When Mickey pulled back the flap to let them in the smell got even worse, and it made her eyes water and her stomach twist and turn.

"Oh my god," she covered her nose and mouth with her hand, "This is putrid." She could barely even see if the body was human anymore; it was torn to pieces, almost ripped in two and covered in blood-soaked rags. She could smell rotten flesh and days-old faeces on the air, and now no longer wondered why people had been sick looking at the godforsaken mess that had been lying there between two large metal bins in a grimy alleyway in a rainstorm. She heard Mickey retch and vanish out of the tent immediately, going to lean on a nearby wall and try not to be sick. She followed him, thinking that he was the priority, being as he was still alive. That body definitely wasn't going anywhere.

"That's… horrible…" he panted.

"Try not to be sick, take deep breaths," she said.

"Of this air?" he looked about to heave again.

"Jack!" Martha shouted, summoning him back.

"Yeah?" Jack appeared from around a corner, "Oh, jeez, is Mickey Mouse okay?"

"Go have a look at that body," Martha entreated him. He came over and Martha left Mickey's side to go and see what Jack made of it. She wasn't as squeamish as him.

"Oh, wow," Jack said, "That really is nasty. Guy's been ripped apart from the inside out. Human couldn't have done this. Whatever it was must be long gone, though. Get your stuff out." Martha carefully set the medical bag on the floor and unzipped it, going for the face mask first of all and then taking out the latex gloves. It took her a while to find what was left of the victim's face, which was twisted into an expression of the utmost pain and frozen like that. Half of it was, at least; his jaw and cheeks had been ripped apart as well and were left hanging off by soggy flaps of skin and sinew. She managed to pull up his eyelid and find some of his fingers to look at, but it was like he had been contorted. Getting this man onto an autopsy table would be like solving a jigsaw puzzle.

"Dead for at least three days," Martha said, "Probably homeless and that's why he's been out here in the rain. It's probably washed away a lot of the evidence except for his own blood and excretions, which I can only assume were inside him at the time of death. I bet no one noticed until the smell got stronger after the rain stopped, isn't that disgraceful?"

"You can include a footnote at the bottom of Gwen's letter to the council about the sewer drain: fix the homeless problem."

"A man is dead, Jack, this isn't funny."

"Do you see me laughing?" He actually wasn't, which was surprising. He was standing there watching her with his hands in his trouser pockets, unnerved by the violence of this crime. "Anything else you can tell us?"

"No, just that he was a smoker and he didn't take care of his teeth very well, signs of living on the streets for years. I won't be able to tell you anything about what might have killed him until I do a proper post-mortem. And even then, I'm not sure what I could learn."

"I'm sure you'll find something. We'll try and identify him, at least," said Jack, "Is Mickey alright?"

"I think the smell got to him."

"Yeah. I guess he doesn't have enough enema experience to be used to it. Well, you never know, maybe Gwen will manage to pull up a witness. I'm sure he can't have died quietly, and whatever happened will have been pretty memorable to anyone who saw it. I'll get Mickey on surveillance scrubbing; I doubt we'll find anything, but it's a useful thing to learn. You're on autopsy, Gwen's on witnesses, I'll put Ianto on identifying the victim and I'll try to go through our records and compile a list of possible species responsible."

"That's all well and good, but for now can you help me get this into a body bag?"

"Uh… sure. Just give me a second to… prepare myself. And put on two pairs of gloves."

"Aw, are you squeamish, Enema Boy?"

"Now who's making jokes at a dead man's expense."

AN: Here I am thinking I might have the biggest Doctor Who related bombshell to drop today (see chapter title) but unfortunately I have been outdone by the dynamic duo of Chris Chibnall and Jodie Whittaker. And yes, I am super. Fucking. Excited. You guys have no clue. I think she's gonna be great - and do you know she was in Attack the Block and my Omegaverse storyline was all based kind of closely on Attack the Block. Although I AM worried that this new Beta Thirteen will just overshadow and be way cooler than Alpha Thirteen. And if any of you were wondering, no matter when this fic ends, yes, I will bring it back to do a crossover event with the two female Thirteens, and I'll actually be nice about it, just like I was nice with my Class crossover. It'll be like if you guys ever saw The Double with Jesse Eisenberg in it where they're identical but one of them is inexplicably more charismatic and likeable, or in Red Dwarf where Ace Rimmer comes in and everyone loves him, except the Jodie Whittaker Doctor is the one they all love and the Rose McIver Doctor is the one that gets all jealous and forgotten about. That's my vibe.

But anyway, this is an unfortunately long author's note because I also have to inform you guys that I'm moving this week from student halls to an actual house on Tuesday. So there's that, then on Wednesday I have to clean my room at my flat to make sure it's all nice and I don't get fined for leaving it messy (though I am about as much as a borderline-OCD neat-freak as Esther Drummond, which is where she gets that trait from) and also call people to sort out utilities bills. Then on Thursday I am hopefully going all the way to Ikea to buy new furniture. So I AM gonna try and high-gear it and update again tomorrow, but if I don't then probably don't expect anything until Friday, which I apologise about because I really want to get back into a more regular update habit.

FINALLY, how many of you knew already that Martha was pregnant? I know I talked to some people about it in PMs and it seemed like I made it way more obvious than I wanted originally XD I wanted the clues to be subtle enough that no one guessed until it was revealed and it was an actual bombshell but I don't think I did it very well. But I DO bet none of you saw a flashback Torchwood crossover storyline coming up, I don't think I mentioned that to anybody.