I'm sure you've both heard about the crucifixion by now. God knows, it's all over the bloody news.

We've been looking into it here trying to find leads as to who possibly could have done this, but either no one knows or everyone's too afraid to talk. If you hear anything, let me know, yeah?

They're saying it's Bambi Dalton that was crucified. Never met her, but heard about her over the journals. Anyway.

I think I'll be heading home soon. There's not a lot left here to do.

Martha remains seated on the table long after Jack and Vincent have left. She plays with her phone in her lap before taking in a deep breath and deciding she can't avoid this any longer. There's so much to be done.

She dials Des' number, and then presses the phone to her ear listening to the ringing.

Time to have a talk with her fiance, and then figure out how to write these necessary journal entries.

Week's almost up, mister.

Are they letting you go soon?

[drunken scrawling is fun and difficult to decipher. Apologies!]

[Locked to the Doctor]

where are you? I



Des has gone to the sewers so I was worired. Considering last time.

Shakespeare is here.

yeah. let me know. Soon as you get this.


[Locked to Des]

How is sewers?






having fun? :) I mi

I now own the Conrad.

Alright, we need a housewarming party or something, because it's been a long time since there were parties and Des promised. Besides, I'm the boss so that's why neither of you have much choice in the matter. ;)

Anyway, start thinking of who you want to invite. I've got errands to run and things to do over the next couple of days, but maybe Saturday? It's not as if most people we know have jobs or something to keep them away at such short notice. Obviously, I can tell John and the possessed Rose so they won't be surprised when a truck load of people heads in.

And think if there's anything we need... grocery shopping wise, yeah? Have we got enough milk? Tea? I could probably check myself before I leave, but... my head's in a million places at the moment. Best I ask and not miss anything pivotal to one of your diets. I'm going to try to pick out some more natural food. So John doesn't have to adapt to the processed junk along with everything else.

I got a recipe or two for biscuits from a lady I met in the grocery store. I think I'll try my hand at those, but do either of you know if we have a fire extinguisher? Or at least, fire alarms? In case I make the oven explode.



Boys, I've been here for 10 bloody months. Yeah, I just took the time to count them up. Course on one hand it feels like forever. On the other, yeah, ten months is two away from a year.

So I'm getting all nostalgic, which is both good and bad.

Party is needed.

It has been confirmed. Practically confirmed. The plague is no longer in just this clinic, no longer in just Chicago, even. One of the paramedics who brought the corpse and Elashte in went to Texas before she could be stopped to visit family. We've just received a call from a hospital in Texas about her. She's come down with severe flu-like symptoms, so they were calling to ask if she'd come in contact with anything they should know about. It's possible she could just have a bad case of the flu, but... it's one hell of a coincidence.

The point is. This thing spreads like fire. We've already seen it in action. People here have been coming down with it, too... or so we can only assume. We've kept them all contained here, but it doesn't exactly matter anymore. That paramedic went through the airport, two airports, technically. There's no telling how many people are infected now. There's no containing it. At this point our best hope is to work on a possible cure or something. I dunno.

We could quarantine the basement. It will, at least, hold it off, but this plague appears to spread through the air, face mask or no face mask. It will get down there eventually, but if we can keep people inside, until we find a cure or vaccine or something. I dunno. I'm-

This is locked to Torchwood, because although we've called the CDC, they don't acknowledge the supernatural. We can't explain how we know so much about this disease and what it was before the Rift and appear credible. We need help and I've nowhere else to turn (if there's anyone else you think could help then... please, ask). Obviously, you don't have to come. I wouldn't ask anyone to come into this and if you do, there's a good chance you could come down with this. And I'm sorry. I wouldn't be asking if there was no other option. I don't want to be responsible for anyone coming and getting sick, but it's going to get out eventually anyway, and Elashte and I can't do this alone.

There's too much, too fast. I hate leaving even, but I've got to. The CDC person has just arrived so there'll at least be one other semi-capable person here to help.

I'm coming back to the basement to pick up supplies, drop off Charlie's truck for him, maybe take a shower or something. Anyone who would like to come let me know... I'll try to wait for you. Meet in the basement lobby in two hours. I think I'll... commandeer Brando's old limo so there'll be room for... whoever.

You alright?

Most importantly, are you in the basement now?

I just realized I haven't seen you and I'm worried. I don't have much time, really, but I was forced into taking a break and now that I've got my head about me, again, I realized- so I thought I'd write...

If you get this soon enough try to stay in the basement, yeah? And... keep the Doctor down there, too... if you can. It might not end up mattering anyway, but- in case, it does matter.

God. I'm still here. I can still be me. Ripley found me

I think I need help. The anger... it's too much. I'm trying to find a sni-

Are we ever going to stop avoiding each other? Alright, I realize I have been doing most of the avoiding, but-

Calisto took a lot away from us, and I refuse to let her take anything more. She's dead and I'm alive so why does sometimes it feel like it's the opposite.

I don't know what to do about it and tomorrow I'm sure that I'm going to hate myself for writing this. I'm having a serious moment of weakness tonight and I'm trying to take advantage of it and get something... the most important thing back. Or try. Before it's too late.

What the bloody hell is going on?

I'm two seconds away from hunting the three of you down. Or at least, one of the three of you. I would have done this the minute I read the Doctor's entry, but I'm a little tied up sitting in front of Remus' door, in case the poor kid goes werewolf, again.

I can lock this door, though, and just go.

And I will if someone doesn't start explaining.

Lucy is gone.

I... Remus had been gone for two weeks so I started really looking around, trying to figure out if he was the only person who has been missing for so long, without me bloody realizing it.

Lucy Saxon is gone... She's been gone for a while from the looks of her room.

So is Regulus.

Both discoveries are frightening, but in very different ways. I've got to go looking for both of them. Soon. No, I won't go alone. If I found Lucy on my own, well, I'm not sure I trust myself to react as I know I should.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep Remus in a cage downstairs. I don't want to, but (I don't want too many people to know about this) he's a werewolf, and the werewolf seems to be getting the better of him. There may be a police search out for him right now. He came in covered in blood... not his own blood.