It was the screams that made Martha's skin crawl as the U.N.I.T department head, Colonel Brett Holston, led her through the catacombs of caged aliens.

It didn't matter that they had all been marked as dangerous by Unit's alien cataloguing system. It didn't matter that they growled or lunged at the perspex walls with teeth bared, and various extremities clawing or grasping for purchase. What mattered was the inherent wrongness she felt, the fear and desperation in the air that clung to her lungs with every breath. It was the same feeling she'd had when Shakespeare had led the Doctor and herself through Bedlam.

As she was guided further underground, and began to wonder just how deep the cages went, Colonel Holston began explaining the situation to her in more depth.

"Jones, this whole department requires the highest security clearance. The General has cleared you for access, but bringing in outside help isn't what we're usually comfortable doing, so I'm sure you'll understand that there's some area's you won't have access to". He spoke to her, but didn't turn or meet her gaze as he did so, and Martha could feel her shoulders tensing.

All she knew so far was that one of their 'contained' alien threats needed medical treatment but it wouldn't allow anyone near it. Considering her experience with the Doctor, travelling to different worlds and dealing with various types of aliens, she'd been brought into the containment branch of Unit, situated in Norway, in the hope that she would be able to convince the being to let itself be healed.

"The aliens being held here are dangerous, some more than others but the term applies to all of them in one way or another" Holston continued, and stopped suddenly before a large metal wall. She went cold when Holston turned around and Martha realised that it wasn't a wall but what could only be described as the door to a vault.

"The alien kept in here is beyond dangerous though, and the last medical officer who attempted to touch the creature burned from the inside out. Screaming."

The tall man glared down at her as though wondering what the small woman could do to combat that kind of aggression, but Martha knew that her superiors would keep her secrets from someone like this. At least, she hoped they would.

"Are you prepared?" he asked after a moment of silence and Martha met his eyes firmly.

This whole section of Unit's operation sickened her and she was already turning idea's over in her mind on ways she could change it, fix it.

"...but you're clever, you can't think this is right!"

Her words to William Shakespeare ran through her mind and she suppressed a shudder. Everything she'd seen of Unit since stepping off her plane told her that there weren't enough checks being done on this remote branch, and it needed reigning in. It was inhumane. Now wasn't the time though. She'd help this alien first, and fix the larger problem later. Talk to Mickey, call Jack and Sarah Jane...

"Yes sir, I'm ready" she answered, relieved that the Colonel hadn't picked up on her momentary pause as she'd let her thoughts spin out of control.

He simply loosed a small snort, and turned to unlock the vault. Fingerprint, optical scan, a small pinprick of blood, followed by a code, a passcard and another code, and a final voice lock. The longer the process went on, the higher Martha's eyebrows climbed, and nerves began building. What in all of time and space scared them so badly that they'd locked it under the frozen wastes of Norway? Thousands of feet underground and hidden away behind more security than the Queen.

As the door opened slowly, rolling sideways to slide into the wall, Martha realised that it was made of a thick steel like material. The sheer depth of it reminding her of the security measures that protected the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. Her gaze moved from the additional layer of locks and stared into the large room, but despite expecting the worst, she couldn't smother her sharp shocked intake of breath.

She wasn't ready, not at all. Not prepared for what lay inside this tomb or, more importantly, who.

"Yes," Colonel Holston responded to her gasp, his hand dropping to his weapon as a precautionary measure when the alien shifted slightly at their entrance, "It's not pretty... It fought us, caused most of the injuries itself, of course," he added quickly, and the slight shift of his weight from one foot to the other told Martha that was a lie.

It's movements amazed Martha. Considering the obviously damaged state of the body, long filthy blonde hair was flicked away from it's face, and the shoulders were thrown back as the woman defiantly lifted her head and eyes to stare down the Colonel. Martha took a moment, then let her eyes run over the woman's injuries as her heart bled and fear driven adrenaline flooded her blood.

Her ankles had been shackled to the floor in the middle of the large room. Enough chain to stand and move maybe a foot in any direction, if she was lucky. From the doorway Martha could see cuts leaking blood, and dark bruising along her shins and thighs. She'd been given what looked like hospital issue pyjama shorts and shirt, but both left much of her body, and her injuries, open for appraisal.

Any injuries and bruising on her torso were hidden by the paper thin fabric, but the short sleeves revealed what looked like burns on the womans upper arms and that her hands had been secured behind her back. There was more bruising along her neck and one eye appeared to be half swollen closed, but what terrified Martha the most was that despite her condition she recognised the battered woman and felt her lips twisting into a snarl.

"Get. Out." she snapped at Colonel Holston, and felt his eyes turn on her.

"Jones, it doesn't-"

"She isn't going to let me near her with a gun wielding thug standing over my shoulder, now get out." Martha ordered. She could sense his reluctance, but when she glared at him Holston obediently left the room as she stepped further in and carefully placed her medical bag on the floor by her feet.

Martha waited until she heard the door to the chamber slide closed and lock before she let herself meet the steady gaze of Rose Tyler.

The Doctor was gonna go mental.

For the moment though, he wasn't Martha's priority. She took a step towards Rose, but halted almost instantly at the half feral growl the blonde let forth at the movement.

Even shackled to the floor by her ankles, hands cuffed behind her back and injured, Martha would rather be facing down a Dalek, she admitted to herself.

"Hey, it's okay... I'm gonna help you, yeah?" she offered, her voice soft and slowly she lowered herself to the floor.

Leaving her medical bag where she'd dropped it, Martha carefully eased closer to Rose. Speaking gently, and using the strength and volume of the womans growls as a measurement on when to creep closer and when to pause and wait for the blonde to acclimatise to her presence.

Martha didn't know how long it took her, but eventually she and Rose knelt opposite one another and the growling had stopped. They just knelt there for a few minutes, Martha still offering the soft comforting sound of her voice, and patiently waited for Roses' shoulders to relax.

"Sorry; can't let 'em know I know yah," Rose all but breathed and Martha had to duck her head to hide a relieved grin from the many camera's she was certain were trained on them intently.

She'd been worried the woman's mind had snapped, but she seemed as sharp as ever. Collecting her thoughts, Martha gathered herself and focussed on the 'warily aggressive alien' before her.

"What's your name?" Martha asked. There was no way Rose had told Unit who she was, but what Martha didn't understand was why Unit were even holding Rose Tyler. She was human, as far as Martha knew.

"I am the Bad Wolf," Rose answered, her features vicious and threatening, but her golden flecked eyes were gentle and strong and the hint of trust contained within them choked Martha for a moment.

"I'm Martha, and I'm going to help you... is that ok?" she asked, partially for the camera's and partially for Rose. She stretched her hand out for the battered woman, paused when Rose tensed and waited for the moment of relaxation, before placing that same outstretched hand gently on Roses' thin and barely covered shoulder.

"Is that ok?" Martha asked again as the warmth from her hand soaked into the chilled skin beneath it and Rose shivered, "Will you let me help?"

Another momentary pause before Rose nodded, but Martha was pleased to see a dash of amusement in her brown eyes at the timid and cautious performance they were both putting on.

With the blonde's permission though, Martha let herself move a little faster, simultaneously wanting and not wanting to know what had been done to her.

The cuts on her calves had been caused by a switch of some kind, wooden based on the splinters Martha removed, and the bruises on her legs looked like they'd been caused by boots kicking at her soft skin.

The cuffs on her wrists were too tight. They'd been biting into her skin just long enough to draw blood, thin trails of it leaking down over her hands and partially concealing the shattered fingernails that looked as though Rose had, at one time, attempted to dig her way out of her cage.

Martha moved onto Roses' back and hissed angrily, drowning out the blonde's own quiet whimper of pain. Lifting the fabric of her flimsy top, Martha had to peel it away from the still bloody whip marks that scarred along her spine. She was cautious to keep Rose covered from the camera's, but it made checking her ribs more difficult.

It looked like the woman might have a few fractured ribs, but a proper examination would either need Roses' hands free, which she knew Unit wouldn't allow, or a removal of the blondes only covering, and Martha wouldn't do that. The ribs would have to be fine on their own for the moment.

The bruising along Roses throat was yellow and green, she'd been strangled but not recently, and the cuts and scrapes along her arms were also older, as though they'd been caused during manhandling, before they'd known how dangerous she was. The burns she'd spotted from the entrance were from repeated use of an electric device of some kind, and Martha could feel her fury building but tamped it down for the moment.

What worried Martha the most was the swelling around Roses' eye. From the look of the surface damage, the woman was lucky she'd not had her cheekbone shattered. There'd probably been a concussion at the time, but it would have faded probably before Martha had even received the call for her services.

"I can fix this, all of it," Martha promised as she finished examining the blonde, her voice shaking a little and Rose allowed herself to nod once, knowing the woman didn't mean her injuries, at least not entirely.

Neither woman spoke as Martha treated Roses' wounds, at least nothing beyond Martha's instructions for her to stand or sit or stretch out a leg, or warn the blonde that the iodine would sting. Rose followed Martha's directives, and only occasionally released soft hisses or whimpers of pain.

Martha worked with a swift efficiency and once everything that could be treated had been, she repacked her equipment carefully with trembling fingers. She honestly couldn't have said if it was holding back her fury or her tears that made her shake.

She wanted to launch herself at the blonde, hug her close and apologise for what she'd been through, promise to help her escape, get out, run, but Martha knew she couldn't. Not yet. There was, in fact, nothing more she could say or do. Not while they were both being watched so carefully through camera's Martha knew were there but couldn't locate, so she zipped her bag closed and stood slowly, hiding her reluctance to abandon Rose by making a show of stretching out her muscles after kneeling for so long.

Even before she'd had a chance to pick up her bag though, Martha could hear the Colonel opening the room again and so forced herself to turn her back and move to leave the room. The observers on the camera's had obviously seen her packing up and send Holston down for her. Martha wanted to punch them.

"Martha Jones..." Rose called as the vault door finished opening, and Martha stepped over the divide between the cage and the tunnels. Her voice was quiet but firm and Martha hoped she still sounded like that by the time she was able to escape Unit.

Martha wasn't the only one who heard the strength in Roses voice however, and she saw Colonel Holsten draw his gun as they both turned to face the still shackled blonde.

Holston was focussed on Rose intently, his eyes locked on her every movement, and his interest in her words was almost palpable, but Rose ignored him entirely, her gaze locked with Martha.

"Thank you."

Doctor Jones couldn't stop the rush of sorrow at her words, sincerity ringing though Roses' voice, and Martha even let two tears fall before getting control of herself. She had wanted to do so much more. The woman shouldn't have needed to be thanking her.

"You're welcome".

The Colonel hit a button on the wall and the door to Roses cell slid closed. Martha could feel the mans eyes glaring at the side of her face, and waited until she heard the locks engage before turning to him.

"How did you get it to talk? It won't talk to anyone here! What's-"

Just like that Martha felt her control snap and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I think it helps if you don't beat your prisoners within an inch of their lives! Have a little bit of kindness, compassion, understanding... oh I don't know, maybe a smidge of humanity!" she spat at the man, hands clenching into fists around her now much lighter bag of medical supplies. What she wouldn't give for the dermal regenerator on the Tardis right now.

What she wouldn't give for the Tardis and her driver right now.

She shook her head and bit her tongue before continuing, her voice calmer, tightly controlled, but her eyes still sparked.

"Nevermind, forget it. She needs more food and water than you're supplying if you want her alive. At the moment malnourishment is likely to kill her faster than your mistreatment-"

"Mistreatment! She's killed seven unit staff in the three months she's been here!" Brett Holston all but shouted and Martha met his anger with ice cold disdain. She didn't even bother replying. He wouldn't listen, let alone understand. Instead she turned on her heel and stalked her way back through the catacombs, suddenly desperate for fresh air and the sky above her head.

She'd planned to help the trapped aliens with Mickey, Jack and Sarah Jane but now that she knew about Rose... Well, regardless of the mans distant goodbye when saving her and Mickey from a Sontaran, Martha knew that now, she needed the Doctor.