Disclaimer: As fantastic as it would be to own Doctor Who, I (sadly) do not.
With her heart in her throat, Martha Jones wonders if the Doctor has always been this reckless.
She watches him charge towards the Daleks hovering above the crowd, eyes burning with unadulterated rage. She watches him, watches his eyes dart towards the man the Daleks cut down only moments before, watches his eyes harden. She hears him provoke the Daleks, howling for them to kill him instead.
Has he always been this… suicidal?
She's seen glimpses of his playful side, all smiles and laughter and joy, a state of being that she'd love to see more of, love to be the cause of. These glimpses, though, are few and far between (though she's willing to bet most of those moments belong to one Rose Tyler).
Mostly she's caught him standing at the central console, eyes hard and vulnerable all at once, as though replaying a tragic memory. She knows better than to ask if he's all right.
After all, he's always all right.
Martha wonders if he'll ever move on.
Or if he'll die first.