Title: Just A Man Who Everybody Loves

Summary: Everybody lives...and everybody dies. No one knows this better than you, Doctor. What you don't understand is that you are not a healer, a murderer, or a liar...just a man whom everybody loves.

Pairing: 10th Doctor/Martha Jones

Genre: Friendship/Drama (slight implied romance, one sided (Martha Jones)

Rating: T, to be safe

Story Type: One Shot

There that man was again; hunched against the control console of the TARDIS, being his usual, brooding self. I watched him from the captain's seat, pretending to be dusting off my shoes - which, to be fair, were dirtied up quite a bit from our last run - but continued to observe him with one eye. I stared as the man who called himself the Doctor scowled at the console, hissing impatiently, and running a hand through his hair. He whacked the console once, then, as if in repentance for his harsh action, rubbed the place the hit.

I had to smile a little; the Doctor was as far as the word impossible could stretch. I didn't know how a man of his dignity, his courage, and his determination could exist. But here he was, standing in front of me, stroking bits of the TARDIS and cooing an apology. My smile traded places with a grin.

"Hmm," the Doctor spoke to me suddenly. I froze. "What are you grinning about, Martha Jones?"

My mind switched from happy go lucky observance mode to one of tense and obvious nervousness. "Um," I began, my smile fading swiftly. "I was just..well, just...smiling at the amount of...dirt on my...shoes?" The Doctor gave me a quizzical glance.

"Really?" he asked, scratching his head. "I could have sworn you were secretly laughing at my most sincere and heartfelt beg for forgiveness from the TARDIS for hitting her." I blinked and momentarily saw a bit of the quiet humor in his eyes, which made my heart soar with fruitless hope and bravery.

I looked him defiantly in the face. "Okay, you caught me. But so what? I'm sure you secretly giggle whenever I get an excessive amount of trash on my shoes."

The Doctor pointed a finger in my direction. "Oy!" he exclaimed. "One, I don't giggle; if could be referred to as chuckling or merely laughing, but giggling suggests I am a child and I am not a child in any sense."

I knew that was not true. I raised an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh, really?"

He sighed. "Alright, maybe just a little...But still, that does not give you the right to immediately classify clearly edible and highly nutritious grass as trash...oh, and did I mention-"

I rolled my eyes. "That its soft. Yes, Doctor. I know. Soft as lamb's wool...until the stuff gets all over your Coach shoes and sticks to the outside no matter how much you clean it. Believe me; I understand."

And then, just as quickly as it came, the darkness covered the Doctor's face and he looked away with a deep sigh. My heart twisted worriedly; had I said something? "Doctor-"

"Martha." he stated flatly. He directed his gaze over to me again and I was startled to see something akin to defeat in them. All the anger and grief and pain in them rolled up into this hurricane of emotions. "What do you see when you look at me?"

I blinked, surprised by the question. "What do you mean by that, Doctor?"

He glared at me. "Just answer the question; what do you see?"

I opened and closed my mouth several times, my hands wrapping themselves around each other. "I...I don't know what to say." I told him.

"Be honest." His eyes were darker than I had ever seen them.

"Well," I began, summoning the ragged remnants of my courage. "When I look at you, as a person, I see a man who has lost everything - his home, his people, his entire sense of being. And I see you trying to patch things over by picking us up - talking about all companions here - and taking us on these wild adventures. We're almost like the only thing you have left, besides all the memories and all the pain."

The Doctor stared deeply at me for a moment, his eyes boring into me with an intensity I had never seen before. He then turned away, the trance broken. "When I look at myself," he murmured, "I see a man ravaged by war, by the loss of everyone he cares about...everyone he trusts."

He turned to me again, his eyebrows knitting together and his lips drawn down into a fearsome scowl. "I am two things, Martha, two things you should see as plain as day." He walked over to me in two, long strides, grasping the side and the back of the captain's seat with his arms. His face dipped down over mine and I parted my lips slightly, staring at him in astonishment.

"Firstly, I am a liar...I lie to protect you and the people around me. But I also lie because I am selfish...Time Lords are naturally selfish. They take things for granted, use them until they are of no use anymore...then chuck them away like pieces of chalk, stubs with no future purpose."

I tried to lean away, but the Doctor grasped my arms, holding me still. He leaned in closer and if I tilted my head so ever slightly upwards, our lips would brush. "And secondly...I am a murderer. A monster. A nightmare...I killed my own people!" His voice raised in pitch. "Tricked others into taking their own lives! And of course it would be me who survives, out of everyone that could have!"

He stood up, leaving me feeling sudden bereft and blushing rather furiously. "You don't know the half of it, Martha." he groaned, ruffling his hair with his hands, tugging on the strands. "I wouldn't expect you to; you are only human, after all."

I opened my mouth in outrage. "Now, that's unfair!" I objected. "I might not have your superior physiology or uncomparable intelligence, but I do have a brain...and a heart."

The Doctor froze, turning his head almost imperceptibly in my direction.

"I have a heart." I repeated, speaking softer. "And while I can never know the extent of pain you feel, day to day, I am here. In the TARDIS. With you. I am here to listen and feel with you. I am not completely unreachable, Doctor, just as you aren't."

The Doctor still hadn't ackowledged her words, but the tenseness in his figure remained.

I sighed. Oh, God, please help me say the right things...

"Everyone lives...and everyone dies. No one knows this better than you, Doctor." The man turned around to face me, his face stiff. My breath almost caught in my throat at the image of his burning eyes, implanted in my head forever. I swallowed down words of disbelief and sympathy and continued. "What you don't yet know or understand is that you are no healer...no liar...and no murderer. You are just a man whom everyone loves."

Finally, finally, the Doctor's face opened up and I him clench his eyes shut, setting his jaw. He looked at me and I was both surprised and pleased to see admiration and respect in his eyes. "Martha Jones," he said to me. "Oh, you are brilliant."

I let out a gasp as the man lifted me off the captain's seat and pulled me into his notorious bear hug. I could do nothing but hug him tighter still, feeling a smile work through the pain of my tears. "Martha, Martha, Martha," the Doctor whispered in my ears. "You always somehow manage to say the right things at the right times."

My heart felt like it swelled several times larger than it was, nearly bursting with infinite happiness. There had been no What? or no Rose would know what to say. No, this time, it was me, Martha Jones, who had done it right this time. It was me who had succeeded...I was the one who wiped away the Doctor's fears.

After what seemed like eternity, the Doctor released me, a manic grin already expanding across his face. His eyes held a brightness to them that lit me up as well. "Well, Martha...where do you want to go?" He flashed me a smile and I knew I couldn't be mistaken; for the first time in a long while, I saw tenderness in that smile.

I smiled back. "Surprise me...I hate knowing what's coming next."

The Doctor grinned and ran to the console. "Destination Surprise underway!" he exclaimed, using his foot to kick down a lever as his hands twirled over dials and pumped at buttons. Suddenly, he paused and glanced back at me, a mischeivous smirk working its way onto his face. "Unless...you still need time to clean off your 'Coach' shoes? I can wait..." I grinned back at him, gripping onto the edge of the console.

"Honestly, Doctor, as of right now...for once in my life...I could care less about shoes."