multiversallogs | (no subject)

Who: Martha Jones and Severus Snape (Jack Jones)
What: Running into the wife when she doesn't remember who he is. Yay angst.
Where: The inn.
When: TBD.
Notes: Martha's going to remember... eventually.
Warnings: Angst.

There were some things that a person got used to quicker than others, and given the travelling Martha'd done in time, adjusting to a new place was something that she'd had a leg up on. The fact that she'd found an organization like Torchwood (where she had been planning on going immediately after she resigned from UNIT) had helped with the adjustment without a doubt.

Being employed, being a doctor, was a brilliant thing and she was happy with having gainful employment. Her free time at the inn was coming and end, and despite the fact that Martha had been spending some time cottage hunting, she wasn't finding anything. Places just didn't seem proper, for reasons that she couldn't quite press her finger on. It was like there was a place she was picturing in her head and nothing else could hold up.

Carrying a box through the hallways, Martha had a pleased smile on her face. She'd find a place soon, and then she'd move and then she'd worry about going home. There was a large and person-shaped hole that she was assuming was Tom. After all, who else could it have been. Clothing shopping had been done, so she felt a bit odd in the black jacket, but at least the style was one that was familiar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We are," he said finally, correcting her though he knew she had meant something else entirely; he swallowed hard, his eyes closed as he breathed her in. "We're going home."

He had no intention of remaining in Baedal; if it took every ounce of energy and will, every last scrap of magic, he was getting them both out of there and - first - back to the Barge. After that, home. Cardiff or London or Hogsmeade, but home. They didn't belong here.

It was a good thought for him to latch on to. It gave him a goal on to which he could focus his attention, rather than allowing himself to drown in the absolute terror of the last few days. He did better when he had a goal - and until he could see her safely out of here, he could protect her.

"Home." Martha said quickly, and her tone reflected hope in it. Home wasn't something she'd considered before, other than the passing, 'the TARDIS needs to know I'm not where I'm supposed to be. The Doctor will come'. Then she'd wondered how many other companions had thought the same things at various points in their lives. But now the worry was replaced the question 'why hasn't the Admiral taken us back?'

The Admiral owed her, and he owed them. He owed Severus his life back, and he owed her. He should get them home. To the Barge and Mozenrath (because the Admiral owed him as well) and then home.

"We'll figure out a way to go home. There has to be one." Right now Martha was thinking about everything that had been in that damned brochure. If there's gods then maybe they actually had the power to return them home.

His mind wasn't on the Admiral, the Barge, or Mozenrath. If he thought of them, he would recoil again. He had abandoned his inmate (ex-inmate, yes, very well), regardless of his willingness to do so. Severus had enough to cope with at the moment without considering the impact of their departure on the Barge.

Instead, he focused on her. His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb stroking across her skin. So long as they both acknowledged this wasn't home, there was no staying here, he could direct his attention to her.

"I've missed you so." It seemed trite to say it - inadequate, even. It was like saying he missed breathing. He didn't miss such a vital necessity. He died without it.

"I've missed you too. And I'll always find you. Really," Martha leaned over and kissed him. The kiss wasn't a prelude to sex; it was far from it. It was almost like CPR: used with the intention of restarting and reassuring that things were going to be alright.

One of her hands rested against bare chest, the place over his heart where she could feel that he was still here, muscle still working. Still alive. "You and me, remember? Always."