Title: A Different Path. (Part 1 of 3)
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Lisa, 9th Doctor. (Past Doctor/Rose and Doctor/Jack/Rose implied)
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood. (AU from Parting of the Ways for Doctor Who, and for all of Torchwood.)
Rating: R (see warning)
Word count: 2100 (this part of about 6k total)
Warning: Assisted suicide of canon character.
Summary: The Doctor had meant it to be a quick stop in Cardiff to refuel the TARDIS, then back out into time and space, alone once more after losing Rose to a parallel world. What he hadn't expected was to pick up the energy signature of an operational cyberconversion unit.
A/N: There might end up being more in the 'verse that this, but not at the moment, and this fic will be complete as it is by the end of part 3.

The energy signature is faint, but unmistakable, and the Doctor's face is grim as he walks through the deserted industrial estate. In the near dusk the place looks bleak, the majority of the lock-ups and retail units around him are boarded up, their faded and peeling 'for let' and 'for sale' signs only adding to the desolated feel.

It doesn't seem, in the Doctor's opinion, like the sort of place that Cybermen would set up a base. But they've caught him out before, not many times admittedly, or for very long, but when they have the consequences have been terrible.

Although why Cybermen would choose a run down industrial estate on the edge of Cardiff, Tremorfa to be exact, he has no idea, unless it's due to the proximity to the Rift. But if that is the case there are far more suitable locations, like a warehouse in the Roath docks or an office or apartment complex down by the Bay.

He remembers going to a planet called Tremorfa once, years and years ago, when he'd been somebody else. But then after nine hundred years he's been to planets called most things at one time or another. There are, after all, only a limited number of sounds and combinations of sounds in the universe and sooner or later they had to be reused.

That particular Tremorfa had been a lot more pleasant to look than this one. They'd had the most amazing semi-sentient plants there, which changed colour to reflect the mood of the people looking at them. He's not been back there in years, maybe even centuries, nor is he likely to visit again any time soon. He's not sure he would like what colour those plants might turn for him now, what it would reveal. Experience has taught him that sometimes it's just better to remember things as they were.

Reaching the end of a cul-de-sac of garage units he stops, the device he's carrying whirs louder and the lights on it flash insistently, telling him this is the place that he's looking for.

He'd only meant to make this a brief stop, to refuel the TARDIS after burning up so much energy saying his last goodbyes to Rose. He'd owed her that. That, and so much more, after all that had happened between them, especially since his near regeneration on the Game Station.

Putting the detector back into the pocket of his leather jacket, the Doctor listens at the door for a moment. The noises inside are indistinct, but there's nothing to suggest any activated cybermen are waiting inside.

The simple lock on the garage's shutter door, which is fastened from the inside, takes the sonic screwdriver just a few seconds to unlock. Then carefully opening the door, the Doctor looks inside.

The interior of the small garage unit is dim, the only illumination coming from the faint blue light emanating from the machinery in the centre of the room.

The Doctor's eyes widen as he realises that it's not the entrance to a Cyberconversion factory, or even to a control centre, it's just a single conversion unit. It's badly damaged, functioning only because it has been augmented with medical equipment and has been wired into the mains via a tangle of cables.

Were it not a Cyberconversion unit the Doctor thinks that he'd be very impressed at ingenuity of whoever has managed to keeping it working with just 21st century Earth technology. Only it is a Cyberconversion unit and at the moment he's got very little patience for people meddling with things that can't even begin to comprehend. So it is with disgust that the Doctor realises that not only is the unit functional, it's occupied.

Strapped to the unit is a young woman, her dark skin standing out in sharp contrast to the silvery metal that has been grafted to her body. She opens her eyes as the Doctor approaches, her lips barely moving as she tries to speak.

Lying on a mattress on the floor by her side, and wrapped in a sleeping bag, a dark haired young man sleeps. Shivering, the he moves restlessly, his pained breathing harsh in the quiet of the building.

Stepping carefully around him the Doctor approaches her, his expression is one of amazement mixed with horror. Even he has never seen a person living in a half converted state such as this, or has ever wished to.

"I know who you are." She opens her eyes as he approaches, her voice is faint, pain underlying each word. "I saw you at there at Torchwood before it fell. You stopped them. You're the Doctor."

"That's me," the Doctor says, surprised that her speech and thought patterns still appear to be human. The Doctor quickly checks the level of conversion, assessing the damage that has been done to her.

It's severe, even if he was able to transport the entirety of the conversion unit and its power supply without any of it short circuiting to somewhere with a more advanced technological level than 21st century Earth the chances of success are almost non-existent. As it is, the Doctor is all too aware that he's not able to do that and that there's nothing that he can do to save her.

So he simply asks, "Who are you?"

"Lisa." She makes a small noise of pain, her eyes closing for a moment. "Lisa Hallett."

"Did he do this to you?" The Doctor points to the man asleep on the floor.

"No!" Lisa sounds horrified. "He got me out. He loves me." Lisa looks down at the man on the floor then back to the Doctor. "He won't listen to me when I tell him the metal is taking me away. The metal and the cold. He thinks he can save me, but there's not enough left." Silent tears start to fall.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor holds her hand, although he doubts she can feel it as much of her hand has been upgraded.

"Don't be, it's not your fault. We'd all be dead but for you." Lisa closes her eyes again, frowning slightly as if trying to come to a decision. "I need you to help me."

"There's nothing I can do." The Doctor wishes that there was, that he could save her, have one more victory over the Cybermen, even if they would never know it.

"I know," Lisa says sadly. "If there was anything, any way at all, Ianto would have found it by now."

"Is that his name?" The Doctor looks at the man. He's obviously unwell, some form of lung damage or infection, the Doctor thinks seems most likely, by the rattle and wheeze of his pained breathing. There had been a lot of smoke in Torchwood tower after the battle, fires burning unchecked as people fled, office furniture and alien technologies all going up in a single conflagration.

"Yes. Ianto Jones." Lisa smiles, remembering happier times. "He was going to marry me. " Her smile fades as she looks at the Doctor again.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor mumbles. This kind of interaction has never been his strong suit, and since the last Great Time War, and the loss of Gallifrey it has only become harder.

Looking at a length of blue cable that snakes its way though the garage, Lisa says, "The cable, give it to me."

"But that's life support."

"I know." Lisa looks him in the eye. "And it's all right. This is my choice."

Wordlessly the Doctor hands her the cable. He won't stop her, or deny her this. He just wishes that he'd had a chance to know such a brave young woman under different circumstances. Her and her young man, who is, from what he can see of the wiring and repairs, a natural with alien technology. They are the sort of people who he would loved to have travelling with him, seeing how they would marvel at the wonders of the universe.

"Take care of him." More tears run down her face, as she grips the cable tighter.

"I can't do that," the Doctor says, finding the idea of having somebody new and dependent on him on board the TARDIS harder than Lisa's other request.

"Please, he's got nobody. He's all alone." She looks pleadingly at him. "Just…just tell him I'm sorry, and that I love him, and I wish…I want..."

"I know." The Doctor nods. He wishes he didn't understand, that hasn't had to hear so many people's last words down the centuries.

"Just don't let him do anything stupid." She looks steadily at the Doctor, and smiles. "Thank you." And then she pulls the cable free.

For a moment there is nothing and then there's an electric whine as her heart monitor flat-lines. It's not particularly loud, but in the quiet of the lock-up it seems almost deafening.

There's movement from under the pile of blankets as Ianto struggles to his feet. "No." Looking wildly around, he barely seems to register anything apart from Lisa.

Sobbing, gasping for breath, as he stumbles the few steps to her side, before falling to his knees, holding her hand against his face.

The Doctor looks around and sighs. He's left in a dismal little lock-up in Wales, with a dead, partially converted woman, and her sick and distraught boyfriend. It's certainly not the situation that he'd thought to find himself in when he'd picked up the signal. It would have almost been better to have just Cybermen. He could have dealt with them and been on his way again, this is so much harder.

He doesn't usually deal with the aftermath, the bodies, the people sobbing their singular hearts out because they've lost everything. He doesn't because it too hard to bear.

This time though he's got to deal with it because there's nobody else who will. He can't let the conversion unit fall into the wrong hands, he can't have Torchwood all over again, destroying everything with their naïve arrogance that they can control everything. He's not willing to call up UNIT either. Too long has passed for them, and the people he knew and trusted have retired, and they weren't exactly infallible either.

He really hadn't wanted to have another passenger on the TARDIS so soon, but looking at Ianto, who is coughing and sobbing brokenly, Lisa's hand held tightly in his, he knows he can't leave him there.

"You…you switched it off, you killed her," Ianto says as he lurches to his feet. "Why?" He swings a wild, uncoordinated punch at the Doctor, who easily avoids it. "Why would you do that? She wouldn't have hurt anybody."

"It's not like you think." The Doctor catches hold of Ianto's wrists, preventing any more blows. "It was her choice, lad, she knew what she was doing. She wanted to spare you seeing what would happen to her."

"Nothing would have happened." He struggles weakly, tears streaming down his face. "She was going to get better, I was going to make her better. I would have...I..."

"No, you couldn't," the Doctor says, hoping that it doesn't come out too harshly. "I think you know that really, don't you?"

The fight seems to drain out of Ianto, and he slumps forward, sobbing.

Eventually even the tears stops, and Ianto becomes an almost immobile dead weight in the Doctor's arms, almost insensible from exhaustion, grief and illness.

Undecided with what to do with him, the Doctor supposes that he could, and probably should, take him to the nearest hospital, make sure that somebody is going to look after him and then be on his way. But he'd told her, Lisa, that he'd take care of him, and leaving him with the first group of people that he meets really doesn't seem to fulfil that promise.

Telling himself that this won't be for long, just until the Ianto is on his feet again, the Doctor picks him up over his shoulder, and then carries him to the TARDIS.