Martha had always admired the Doctor's eyes. They were the most amazing part of him, but they were dangerous if you looked into them for too long. Those amazing eyes could burn you. They were like an open flame. For some unfathomable reason, although you know it can do nothing but hurt you if you get too close, you can't resist but to wave your hands over the fire, seeking out the warmth and comfort that it would give you on a cold, cold night, pushing the boundaries to see how close you could get without getting burnt…
That was the Doctor.
And his eyes, they were so full of energy and a kind of joy and eagerness for life that you expect only on children, but just in those rare moments, his eyes could be so very old. Ancient rage and weariness of a kind that Martha just couldn't comprehend with only one lifetime.
And she loved him. Despite any and every obstacle, of which there were far too many to keep track of without sinking into a deep depression, she loved him completely irrevocably, and always would.
And now she knew for sure that he didn't love her back.
She told him that she had to leave. She knew that she couldn't stay with him, but her love still forced a hope to blossom in her, a hope that he would beg her not to go, that he wanted her to stay.
Those amazing eyes grew ancient, and she knew it wasn't going to happen.
Another one was to leave.
The Doctor felt himself begin to sink into that place where he felt bone deep weariness and every one of his 900 years pressed down on him. He saw the hope in her eyes, and he knew he couldn't endorse it. Why did he do this to himself? Again and again and again he took in some wonderful, amazing human and time and time again, he crushed them. One way or another, each of them would regret some consequence of their time with him.
What he tried not to let on was how much it hurt every time the next person left. Even for that brief time when they were happy, when they were together, there was always that little niggling in the back of the Doctor's mind, reminding him that eventually, all of them would leave and he would once again be alone. As he had explained once to Rose, they could spend the rest of their lives with him, but he couldn't spend the rest of his with them.
The Doctor had watched the only person he could ever have hoped to spend the rest of his life with burn. By the time he saw that fire, the blazing pain that had consumed the Doctor's body at his death had been compacted and concentrated into a small ball of grit and determination and a feeling of being oh so old and alone.
Now he felt that feeling return as Martha gave him her news. He could see the hope in her eyes, the love that he couldn't return and he felt his heart grow hard. That pain couldn't exist in him or he would die from it. He needed that distance that let him say that he didn't care much, go or stay. He didn't care much either way. He had tried to tell her. He had tried to warn Martha when she first arrived in his TARDIS, that he would and could never love her like she loved him. He'd tried to show her... When the coat that keeps you safe from the hard and terrible truth that you always push away becomes too thin, when the roof that protects you against your own age and miserable existence caves, words begin to sound false and your feet no longer waltz to the old tune that they once had enjoyed so easily.
Hearts grow hard,
On a windy street,
Lips grow cold,
With the rent to meet,
He had tried to tell her…and now they would both pay the price.
The Doctor turned away and let her go. She deserved better than him…she deserved someone that had the capacity to love her in return.
So if you kiss me,
If we touch,
Warning's fair,
I don't care very much.
Bit of a random oneshot semi songfic there…this is based on the song 'I Don't Care Much' from Cabaret, and I was obviously thinking about Dr Who when I was listening to it, and this was the outcome. I don't usually endorse Doctor/Martha, hence the hint of Doctor/Master in there…Please review with some feedback-this is my first songfic.
(These are the full lyrics to 'I Don't Care Much')
I don't care much,
Go or stay,
I don't care very much,
Either way,
Hearts grow hard,
On a windy street,
Lips grow cold,
With the rent to meet,
So if you kiss me,
If we touch,
Warning's fair,
I don't care very much.
I don't care much,
Go or stay,
I don't care very much,
Either way,
Words sound false,
When your coat's too thin,
Feet don't waltz,
When the roof caves in,
So if you kiss me,
If we touch,
Warning's fair,
I don't care very much.