Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, and sadly I never will. However BBC does, and when I make my eventual corporate takeover, I shall rule all.

Summary: This is just a series of oneshots, mostly featuring 9th and 10th Doctors and Rose. There will be Martha stories, but not pairings. Suck it up, Martha lovers. And none of them are necessarily connected. I'll say if they are though.

Walls

Tear out these veins that own my heart

This skin wears your lasting mark

I built these walls, come get to me

Come get to me

Emery

The Doctor stood there, meditating on all that had happened recently: the loss of Rose, Donna. After that he met Martha. He couldn't stand to be alone, even though he knew the effect his need would eventually have on all of his companions. They all left in the end, by their choice or his. Some, like Rose, were taken away. That couldn't happen again, he wouldn't let it—thud.

His head snapped up at the sudden noise. Sounds like that only led to trouble on the TARDIS, and the Doctor really couldn't afford trouble right now. He ducked out of the control room and walked down the hall to investigate. Instead of the broken machinery he expected to find, all that was found was Martha, tangled in the wardrobe.

The Doctor tried to find the words as he fought the smirk that naturally found its way across his face. "Having a bit of trouble there, Dr. Jones?"

Martha blushed as she realized the Doctor was there to see her wrestling with the period dress she'd been trying on. "Oh, no. I enjoy falling on my arse because a dress decided to grow a brain and try to suffocate me. It's like my afternoon tea."

The Doctor paused, then shrugged it off. There was no point in arguing. "If you decide that you need help with that affliction, feel free… to yell…," he trailed off as he caught sight of the pink skirt Rose had worn when they saw the queen's coronation. Another time he had failed to protect her the way he had promised.

Sensing that the easiness between them had disappeared yet again, Martha knew that his sudden silence had to do with his previous companion. "Do you want to talk about it?" Not really wanting to know, but also yearning to hear of her competition, Martha had to ask.

The Doctor's expression grew hard, and Martha immediately regretted saying anything. "I think that since you have everything covered here, I'll go back to the control room."

The Doctor left before Martha had another chance to apologize. She mentally smacked herself on the forehead for her verbal mishap. "Damnit. I will get past those walls you built, Doctor. They can't be too thick." Turning around, she began picking up racks she had knocked over.

Listening outside of the door, the Doctor leaned against the wall and sighed. You've no idea how wrong you are.

So, reviews are welcome, updates are sporadic, and if you spot anything wrong (like 'control room', I don't know what that room is called), then tell me.