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.

Threaded | Flat

As Martha was coming in, 'Jack' was going out with the intention of finally venturing into Baedal. It wasn't something which he particularly wanted to do, but if he was to find a way out, then he had to first see where he was. The past few days had been spent fighting a looming depression not unlike that which he had experienced one Halloween so many years ago.

This time, there was no Dumbledore to catch him when he fell. The only thought keeping him from drastic measures was that escape was not impossible - and Martha would find him, if she had to move heaven, hell, and the Doctor to do it.

And that was the thought circling his mind when he crossed paths with her. He walked right by her; it didn't seem possible that she would be happy, that she could be smiling and shopping and settling in. It certainly wasn't possible that she hadn't responded to him when he contacted the cohort. If anyone knew him, it would be her. Thus, he made it ten feet past and did a double-take.

"Martha." There was a plethora of emotions in that one word: anger, hurt, surprise, hope, relief, happiness - the full gamut. And for all of that, he was in a state of shock. Why didn't she contact me?