Note: set right after the season three finale

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The Lonely God

"I'm the last again," the Doctor says quietly. He's standing very still, overlooking the sky outside her window. He breathes in the industrial London air calmly; in and out, in and out, and exhales, his breath misting over the glass.

It's a little strange to have him in her house. He doesn't fit right, exactly; there's something very, well, alien about the way he stands perfectly still, framed in the familiar corners of her room, and even in the way he tilts his head up to stare out, and especially in the way he carefully doesn't touch anything at all (and if he leaves like he usually does, with no fanfare or warning, there wouldn't be a trace of him anywhere, except in her memory, still crystal clear).

There's a terrifying loneliness behind the Doctor's eyes, shadowed and dark as they are. He's travelled through time backwards and forwards, saved people over and over again, saved Earth again and again, and he can save everyone except the people he wants to save the most. Now there are two things he can't have.

Martha steps beside him and thinks about laying a hand on his shoulder, in reassurance perhaps, or something else; she's not sure. The Doctor's fond of hugs and of casually leaning against her or occasionally squeezing her shoulder, but only at his discretion and only when he wants to. She allows her hand to fall back against her side uselessly, and instead, thinks about what to say.

It's not enough, and it'll probably never be enough because Martha's never felt that crushing loneliness; she's never had to. She's always had her family, loud as anything (and sometimes just as annoying) but –

"You have me," she offers again, and briefly, the Doctor's expression is one of surprise. His eyebrows hike their way up again, into his usual expression of perpetual amusement and manic energy before he turns to face her, face carefully smooth again.

"Martha Jones, saviour of Earth," he says wryly, and a small smile lingers around the corners of his lips.

"That's me," she agrees and smiles back.