Martha Jones doesn't eat.
She doesn't sleep.
She runs.
And when she finds people she tells them the story. His story. She tells them about The Doctor.
But mostly, she runs.
Four months in. Malnutrition has long since set in, but it makes running walking the earth easier. She doesn't get hungry much and when she does she can handle it. Her
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His uniform is bloody and dirty as usual, and he looks a little tired - but when the door bursts open and Martha falls into the Inn, he rockets to his feet and starts toward her immediately.
"Martha!"
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Jack nods, readjusts his grip on her, and then gets smoothly to his feet. Isn't he just so gallant and dashing?
"Of course. And you can pass out there for a week or however long you need, and I'll be right there, I promise."
He really will. With her like this, there's no way in hell he's moving from her side until she leaves.
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In fact, it's really her last coherent thought before she simply passes out in his arms.
Once she'd let herself relax and feel safe, her body happily shut down for much needed rest.
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"Oh, Martha..." he murmurs softly, reaching down to brush her hair back from her face, and then climbs into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He knows it's probably going to be a good century or so, maybe more, before he finds out just what's happened to her.
But when he does, he decides, he's going to find the person - or persons - responsible, and kill them for this. Jack Harkness isn't the kind of man who hesitates or falters, when it comes to protecting the people he loves.
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Martha wakes up too soon, but longer than she normally sleeps (normally as in the last four months). Six hours maybe. Instead of the usual four or two.
She wakes, silent, but tense and prepared to move, to get back on her feet and head South. She's been heading south, but then the warmth and the lack of clothing sets into her brain.
Her heart beats heavily against her chest. Where is she? She's almost afraid to open her eyes, until she realizes there are arms around her. Is she dreaming? Martha breathes in. It's Jack. She opens her eyes, sees him, touches his face, and nearly starts to cry from relief.
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Jack has been lying awake the whole time - it's not like he really needs sleep anyway, under normal circumstances. He's a little surprised Martha wakes as early as she does, as tired as she was earlier... but he's not going to question it.
He stays still at first as she tenses, trying not to alarm her too much with any sudden movements. He smiles when she opens her eyes, reaching up to touch the hand on his face. "Hey. It's me. You're alright, you're safe. I'm right here."
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Martha smiles and laughs very softly, almost disbelievingly, but this is far too real to be a dream and these days her dreams are nothing like this.
The memory of her earlier entrance sets in slowly. Her head sinks back down against the pillow, but she keeps her face close to his, because she can't bear to be far from him. Not right now.
"I can still hardly believe it." She frowns a little. "Have you been awake this whole time?"
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"Yeah. It's fine, I hardly sleep at all anyway." Even though he doesn't have to, he gets the feeling Martha would Disapprove. She's just that kind of person. She's also the kind of person who would try to do medical things to him even when she knows it's completely unnecessary, so...
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Yes, she is that kind of person, but she's too muddled to lecture him about it now so the look will have to do for now.
"How long has it been for you? Last time I was here we were both leaving... you back into the war."
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He glances away briefly, his gaze unfocused, before he looks back at her with a vague, somewhat sad smile. "Got through that war and on to the second. I don't know what I'm going to do after this. I've run out of interesting wars to fight in for a good century or so."
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She knows now. First hand the kind of destruction that war brings. What destruction looks like. Blood and fire and screaming.
So much death that it becomes a smell that one can never be rid of.
"Maybe you can just take a break. Stay safe for a bit." Martha kind of likes the idea of him not being in a war for a while. Even though she knows he survives it to the current year... war still means Jack getting shot at. Even if he won't die, he'll get hurt. A lot.
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"Maybe," he agrees softly. "I've just been a soldier for so long. Hard to know where to go after that. I'll find something, though. Always do."
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And Martha means that very much. She has incredible amounts of faith in the people she loves. Especially those she's in love with. The Doctor. Jack.
She smiles, though it's more than a little pained.
"Thank you. For staying with me... even though you don't sleep much. It... can't have been very interesting." Her throat tightens and bites down on her lip. It would've been hard waking up without him here.
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He's going to get her to eat, one way or another. He can feel her ribs distinctly, under his arm, and it scares him how thin she's gotten.
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"I think I might have some idea." Martha kisses him, softly. "I've missed you, too. Very much." It's been just four months for her, but they've felt much more like years.
She blinks at the question and just shakes her head more to herself than anything. "God. I don't even know. I'm not used to... this. Waking up and just... getting what you want or need." Martha presses a hand to her face with a heavy sigh. "All I can think is to run."
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He studies her face silently for a moment, and then sighs a little. "I guess you probably do, yeah." Still not asking. He's behaving remarkably well when it comes to timelines.
"Alright." He pulls her toward him a little, holding her protectively. "Food and drink seems like a good place to start. Something simple. Yeah?"
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