There are many rooms on board the TARDIS, and most of them have no rhyme or reason. Some are full of broken bits and baubles that send the Doctor into long winded stories about some planet or another. Others have things that I couldn't even hope to understand. I'm not entirely sure that I would want to. However, there is a room that seems to constantly draw my attention. It has ever since I came on board. It is next to the Doctor's room, and he makes sure he never looks at it when he passes. It's always locked, no matter the time of day, night, or whatever it is that we hover in when we are in between times and places. I know because I've taken to trying it every night before bed.

But the Doctor has gone out, and he's left it unlocked.

The door is no different than any other door. It fades into the many others that line the multitudes of hallways that crisscross in every direction imaginable. That's my only thought as I turn the handle and give it a gentle push. It opens quietly into what is obviously a bedroom.

I don't know what I expected to see when I opened this door. A grand secret, perhaps? Maybe I had hoped to find something of the Doctor's so that I could learn something personal about him, but this was not what I had expected to find.

A small mound of women's clothing littered a corner near a wooden dresser. A drawer was only slightly ajar. A few shoes were tossed here and there. Hair pins and tie backs were scattered across the top of a vanity to my left as well as a few bottles of nail polish and a half empty bottle of perfume. Against the far wall there was a large bed, the pink comforter rumpled as though it had been slept in at one time. A pillow was perilously close to falling off the bed. In the center of the bed sat a clay flowerpot filled to the brim with rich dark soil. A pale pink rose stood tall and proud in the center of the black foam, its petals almost iridescent.

Rose.

This had been Rose's room. My breath hitched in my throat and tears stung behind my eyes. The Doctor had kept her room exactly as it had been on the day that she had left. He hadn't had the heart to move a single hair pin. Even the TARDIS had seemed to believe that it needed a rose. After all, it had to be keeping the rose in the flowerpot alive and ageless.

"Martha, what are you doing in here?"

The sound of the Doctor's voice nearly scared me out of my wits. I didn't want to turn and face him. If he'd sounded angry, it would've been easier. He didn't. He was sad. It was as though every word he spoke was being pulled from the center of his very being, and I knew that his despair wasn't because I had done something that I had been forbidden to do. My heart ached as I slowly turned to face him. He was in the doorway, strain etching lines on his face. For the first time since I'd met him, there was a hollow look in those very brown eyes, and I could believe that he was as old as he professed to be.

"Doctor, I…"

"Please go." It was only two words, and they sounded as though they had cost him far more than I knew to say them. This was a side of the Doctor that I didn't want to see, and I ran. I ran past him and down the hall onto the bridge of the TARDIS. I didn't look behind me the entire way.

It was nearly an hour before he returned. His eyes were swollen and red from weeping. The word weeping came to mind because what had occurred in that room was obviously something deeper than having a good cry. He grinned and the falseness of it made my chest tight. His step was exaggerated as he made his way to the control panel.

"Well, Martha Jones, where shall we go next? How about somewhere with bananas? Bananas are good!"

"Alright." My voice was thinner than I would've liked, but if he wanted to pretend that I hadn't trespassed on a very private pain, I wouldn't bring it up. To be honest, I think I'm too ashamed. I said so many things out of jealousy about her, and he had cared about her this much. How had every word I'd said cut him? How had every mention of her name caused him to bleed? I am supposed to be a doctor, and yet, I caused someone I love so much pain. "Doctor…"

He turned to me, his smile fading just a bit, his entire body pleading with me to understand that he could not handle talking about something so dear to both of his hearts. "What? You don't like bananas?"

I wanted to apologize. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before I'd gone into that room, but there some things can't be changed. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for everything I'd ever said about her, even if it hurt me to know that no one else would ever hold a place in his heart the way that Rose did. I didn't. I was too much of a coward to say any of those things. Instead, I gave him a smile that mirrored his own and asked, "Can you promise not to land in someone's cupboard this time?"

He smiled and I could see gratitude written in every line of his face. "No promises!" he answered pulling the lever and causing the TARDIS to pitch as it set off in search of some banana grove. As I held onto the console to keep from falling on my face, I thought about what he'd just said. There were no promises when travelling with the Doctor. Rose's bedroom stood testament to that.