Talking to the moon

A Doctor Who fanfiction


A/n: this one-shot has been in my head forever, but I didn't know how to approach it. I was going to make this a Mickey/Martha fic, and possibly lemon but then decided on a Ten/Rose lemon, because it fits them so perfectly. Martha will make an appearance in this as well, but don't think anything of it because the thought of Martha/Ten makes me want to gag.

The song based around this fic is called 'Talking to the Moon' by the ever lovely Bruno Mars.

Enjoy and please note that all your comments are appreciated!


Iknow you're somewhere out there

Somewhere far away

I want you back

I want you back

The Doctor sat down on the rim of the TARDIS, his converse covered feet daringly dangling into space. He looked on at the world, the planets, and the life. Somewhere in space a couple was finally getting married, a baby was being born, someone was getting proposed to. But not the Doctor. He was alone.

"Doctor?"

Well, not quite.

"I'm busy," He muttered quietly, but Martha still heard him. She walked up towards him, looking at the doorway, for anything interesting that had the Doctor so keen on sitting. "What is it?" She asked when all she saw were some moons.

"Moons," He said quietly. "They're moons." He didn't feel like explaining anyway. He could give her a full explanation of why they had suddenly stopped here, but what was the point? All the response he was given when he tried to explain things was a confused expression from Martha. With Rose, when she was his companion, even though she didn't understand, she could at least grasp something, if only his trust. If only his heart.

"I can see that." Martha said. The Doctor was silent, staring at the collection of moons dully. Martha shuffled her feet, zipping up her leather jacket at the slight breeze.

"Can I sit down with you?"

"No," The Doctor answered quickly. Seeing that she was offended, he sighed. "I just…I just want to think for a while, that's all. Sorry."

Martha shook her head. "It's her birthday, isn't it? It's Rose's birthday."

My neighbors think I'm crazy

But they don't understand

You're all I have

You're all I have

The Doctor couldn't help it, at the sound of her name he had to cringe, desperately trying to muffle the cry he squeaked. Martha groaned loudly. She didn't understand Rose. She never knew his Rose.

Because his Rose was taken away from him, just like everything else in the whole bloody universe the Doctor ever loved.

"I'm busy." He said again, finally looking up at her. She had one hand on her jean-clad hip, staring defiantly at him. He knew that he should be nicer to Martha; he knew that she fancied him, yearned for him, and needed him. But he didn't-couldn't-reciprocate. Not this soon, not with her.

His heart belonged to Rose.

At night when the stars light on my room

I sit by myself

Talking to the moon

Try to get to you

In hopes you're on the other side

Talking to me too

Or am I a fool who sits alone talking to the moon?

Later that night, Martha woke up again. The Doctor could tell, because she was sleeping on the chair in the TARDIS console room. She looked up, frowning at the Doctor, before walking over to him. He was still sitting in the same position, looking up at the moons, their colors and beauty mesmerizing him.

"She's gone, you know that, right?" She whispered, sitting down by him-despite his protest. The Doctor muttered something unintelligent and fixed his eyes on the brightest moon in sight, hoping that if he looked long enough, its light would surround him, capturing him and taking him away from Martha, away from everything, until he got to Rose.

Paradise.

"Doctor, she's not coming back, okay?" Martha prodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. He whimpered but was silent. He just wanted to look at those moons; they were beautiful, just like Rose. But a lot of things were beautiful. These moons just seemed to…talk to him.

"No matter how long you look at these damn moons, Rose isn't coming back, it's not like she can hear you. I know, Doctor, I hear you talking to her. She can never see you again." Martha protested. She was tired of this Rose girl, why couldn't the Doctor get over her already?

I'm feeling like I'm famous

The talk of the town

They say I've gone mad

Yeah

I've gone mad

But they don't know what I know

Cause when the sun goes down

Someone's talking back

Yeah

They're talking back

When the Doctor finally turned his head to look at her, Martha saw the deep sadness in his eyes, the sorrow, guilt, remorse, any sad feeling he could muster. Very slowly, he reached a slender hand out to grasp Martha's dark one, lightly squeezing it.

"I'm-"

"Busy; I know."

At night when the stars light on my room

I sit by myself

Talking to the Moon

Try to get to you

In hopes you're on the other side

Talking to me too

Or am I a fool

Who sits alone talking to the moon?

The third time Martha checked on the Doctor, he was finally speaking some more. His voice quivered and shook, but was loud and desperate, as well. "Happy Birthday Rose. My Rose." He said, and for the first time that night Martha saw the Doctor smile.

"How's Pete's world? Good I hope; Mickey and your parents better be treating you well." He was silent, thinking of what to say next. "Twenty-one years old, that's big. You can now legally drink alcohol in America." He laughed.

"Tell Jake I said hi, hope's he's still defeating those Cybermen with Mickety-Mick-Mickey!

"If you're wondering, er, I'm…well. Just the three of us, now. Oh, Martha Jones is with me now. She's not your replacement or anything, but, I mean…She's good. She's my friend."

Martha held back a sob. A friend, she knew he didn't love her back. She had to change his mind. He would, someday. But, Martha supposed that today he needed his time with Rose. But it was so stupid, it's not like Rose could hear him, anyway, could she?

Ahh...Ahh...Ahh...

Do you ever hear me calling?

Ho Hou Ho ho Hou

"Martha and I have met loads of people. Shakespeare, that was brilliant. Not as fun as Charles Dickens, have to admit. You should've seen William, though. Martha and I got him to say Harry Potter spells. There was a bit of a…problem with witches, nothing that bad; nothing you couldn't handle. Um, that's really about it. Until tomorrow, then, Rose. Happy Birthday."

As the Doctor got up to leave, he suddenly turned back towards the moons. "I love you." He whispered. "I love you, Rose."

'Cause every night I'm talking to the moon

Still try to get to you

In hopes you're on the other side

Talking to me too

Or am I a fool

Who sits alone talking to the moon?

The Doctor bowed his head, oblivious to Martha silently walking up towards him. "Get some sleep," She whispered. "You haven't slept in days."

Ohoooo...

Nodding, the Doctor sighed in defeat, turning to Martha. "Thank you." He said, smiling genuinely at her. "And I'm sorry."

Martha looked at him. "I don't get it. She was just another companion. Just like me."

"No, she was different. She was special."

"I'm special, Doctor. I can be special." Martha pleaded with her eyes, taking his hand. He just shook his head, like there was no way a human could understand his pain.

"I love her, Martha."

Martha was silent. "I know," She finally whispered, walking away to her room, at last leaving him to himself.

Slowly, the Doctor walked up to the TARDIS doors, shutting them. Feeble with exhaustion, the Doctor leaned his head on the door, closing his eyes. "I love you," He whispered again to himself, crying.

Why was she taken away from him? The only thing-the only thing-he ever needed more than the TARDIS, the sonic screwdriver, any of that. He would trade it all away for her.

His Rose.

He got up, walking away to his own room, the night over. Tomorrow would be a new day; another day without Rose.

"My Rose."

I know you're somewhere out there

Somewhere far away