Notes: This is the latest installment in my 'Shelter' series. It's not strictly necessary to read the other stories in the series, but it will probably help you understand the dynamics better. It's set a few months after Inertia and is definitely AU, in that the events of Reset and Exit Wounds never happened, or at least haven't yet. In other words, everyone on Team Torchwood is still properly alive. For the Doctor and Donna, it's set some time after Midnight.

Rated for swearing, and some very brief and non-graphic sex in the prologue.

-DW-

In which there is a poorly-timed emergency.

-DW-

"This is Emergency Programme Eight.

"Donna, if you're watching this, then the TARDIS has detected irregularities in my brain pattern. Now, before you start making cracks about my mental stability, that could mean a lot of things, and not all of them involve me going mad. I could have amnesia, or be in a coma, or . . . lots of other things. Probably.

"That said . . . .

"Once we're both in the TARDIS, she'll take you to Torchwood. They'll have the best chance of sorting whatever's gone wrong. Try not to traumatize Owen too much; he can be difficult, but he's a better man than he likes to admit. They all are. Well, not Gwen or Toshiko, obviously, because they're not men at all, so they're better women – anyway, you know what I mean.

"If they can't sort it . . . let them do whatever they decide is best. I trust Jack's judgment.

"Tell him that. And tell him that I'm sorry. For whatever happens. It's not his fault, and I don't want him making sacrifices for me.

"That goes for you, too.

"You're brilliant, Donna Noble; you really are. Don't ever forget that.

"And in case I'm never in a fit state to say it again . . . .

"Thank you. For everything."

-DW-

Jack was not thinking about the Doctor when the call came in.

This was somewhat unlikely, seeing as everything from complicated moral dilemmas to bananas reminded him of the Doctor, but nonetheless, when his phone rang on an unusually warm spring evening, Jack was not thinking much of anything except yesohgodyesmorethereyesyesyes.

A few moments later he was coherent enough to think about just how much he loved Ianto and that maybe he should get around to telling him that sometime. It was a slow, warm sort of thought, and Jack wasn't keen on ruining it by actually considering the implications of such a declaration, so he didn't.

"Shouldn't you get that?" asked Ianto, after few more moments had passed and the phone was still ringing.

Jack made an inarticulate sound somewhere between a moan and a growl, but reluctantly groped for his phone, grumbling under his breath about what he'd rather be groping. Ianto's soft chuckle did nothing to quell those desires.

"Harkness," he snapped into the phone, not bothering to keep his irritation out of his voice.

"Oh, thank god! I didn't know what to do and then I finally called you but it just kept ringing and I thought maybe I got the wrong number –"

"Wait, slow down," interrupted Jack, sitting up in bed, suddenly alert and focused. "Who is this?"

Though, he thought he already knew. Very few people had this number, one of them was with him, and the woman on the phone didn't sound like Gwen or Martha or Tosh, so unless Owen had managed to stumble across some sort of gender-swapping ray which had also somehow changed his accent . . . .

"Donna Noble. I'm travelling with the Doctor – I didn't know who else to call and there was some sort of hologram like in Star Wars but of course Time Boy would ramble on about last messages and not say anything useful –"

Jack's blood ran cold at the phrase 'last messages.' The Doctor wasn't – he couldn't possibly be – "Donna, what happened?"

"I don't know!"exclaimed Donna, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "There was some sort of alien mad scientist thing and he went and got caught in the middle of it, the idiot, and I managed to get him back into the TARDIS and now we're in some sort of hospital thing but he won't wake up and he's been out for hours –"

"But he's alive?" Jack inquired, daring to hope.

"Yes," Donna confirmed, and Jack would have collapsed in relief if he hadn't already been sitting down. "And the computers say he's stable, which is good, but –"

"Alright, Donna, where are you?" Jack cut her off before she could start rambling again. He threw off the covers and began to dress one-handed.

"The hologram said something about Torchwood. I'm sure I've heard that name before –"

"Okay, the TARDIS took you to Torchwood?" clarified Jack.

"I think so. I'm pretty sure we landed, but I haven't gone to check. I don't want to leave him on his own . . . ."

"No, that's good," said Jack, pulling on his coat with the assistance of Ianto, who was already fully clothed. "Stay with him. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up, not caring if he seemed callous. At this particular moment, he didn't care about anything except getting to the Doctor.

Thankfully, Ianto's flat was about as close as possible to the Hub, and within minutes they were screeching to a halt at the Plass. It was deserted, so Jack burst into the Tourist Information Centre at a run, slamming his hand onto the button and slipping through the door when it was barely open. It seemed to take a lifetime for the lift to reach the bottom, even with Ianto beside him, his hand on his arm in a silent show of support.

The lift doors finally slid open, and Jack paused to scan the Hub. His gaze immediately lit upon the blue box standing in the corner of his office.

He was up the stairs in an instant, pausing only to aim a vicious kick at Owen's chair, sending the snoring man tumbling to the ground amid a torrent of curses.

The TARDIS door was locked. Jack fumbled with his keychain, growling in frustration as he dropped it. Ianto was suddenly beside him, gently stilling his hands. Jack hadn't realized that they were trembling. Ianto deftly selected the correct key and unlocked the door before stepping back to let Jack through.

The normally comforting hum of the TARDIS had a note of distress in it, which only served to spur Jack on. The med bay was conveniently placed just outside the console room, and Jack burst through the door without hesitation.

"Finally!" exclaimed Donna, who leapt to her feet upon his arrival. "He hasn't gotten any worse, but he hasn't woken up, either, and I don't know what to do –"

"Donna, calm down," said Jack firmly, forcing himself to look into her eyes and not at the prone figure on the bed, ignoring his own panic in favor of soothing hers. "It's going to be alright. The Doctor is strong."

"Of course he is," said Donna scornfully, as if Jack had just said that Einstein was smart. Her unthinking conviction was far more reassuring to him than his own well-practiced platitudes, and he actually felt his own fears abate somewhat as he turned to the bed. The Doctor would be fine. He had Torchwood, and he had the TARDIS, and whatever he had gotten himself into this time, Jack was sure that they had all dealt with far worse.

"Alright, so tell me what . . ." He trailed off as he got a proper look at the Doctor's face.

Well, shit.