Heart of the Matter
She was dreaming of the TARDIS.
It happened sporadically. At first, they were nightmares reminiscent of the Year That Never Was…
She was running for her life in some far off distant place with Toclafane chasing after her. Then, the TARDIS would appear and she knew she was safe. She would get an extra burst of energy and head for the beautiful ship. But then, it would start to dematerialize before she reached it. By the time she arrived at what she had thought was blessed salvation, the TARDIS would be gone. Martha would scream and sob. She'd turn to see how far behind her the Toclafane were, just in time to see one of them fire.
She would wake up in a cold sweat with Tom trying to soothe her horrific screams.
Between talking to Jack and finally telling Tom about that year, she began to get a handle on her horrible year. As she and Tom became closer, the nightmares became less intense. When he told her of his intention to spend some time in Africa helping the sick, she couldn't have been happier for him. She secretly thought the nightmares would resume after he left the first time, but they didn't. Her nightmares had become less and less frequent over the months until they stopped all together.
Once the Sontaran threat was neutralized, she began to once again dream of the TARDIS. This time, the dreams were more pleasant. She dreamt of the way the TARDIS was always present in the back of her mind while she was on board; a soothing and calming presence on which she could always count.
And now, there it was again, in her dreams. Martha smiled as she rolled onto her right side. She could swear she felt the winds that accompanied the TARDIS whenever the ship materialized. She burrowed deeper beneath the sheets and blankets before once more drifting off into a deeper sleep.
She felt the bed dip. She could've sworn Tom was still in Africa.
"Martha," a voice whispered. She knew she had to be dreaming still. "Martha, wake up."
Martha sat up quickly as she grabbed the pepper spray under her pillow before facing the intruder. Her eyes widened once they focused on the figure. "I am so going to kill you!" she said angrily.
"With pepper spray?" he innocently inquired.
"Doctor," she replied. "This is not the time to try for charming." The Doctor frowned, and Martha had no choice but to chuckle. "What is it you want, Doctor?"
"I didn't realize how late it was," he said. "I apologize for the late hour."
"Is there anything wrong?"
"No, no of course not," he answered. "I just…you know, this can wait until you've had proper sleep." He stood. "I'll come back tomorrow morning."
"You know I won't get any sleep now," she told him as she reached for her dressing gown. Unfortunately she couldn't reach it without getting out of bed, which would prove to be quite disconcerting considering she was wearing only a spaghetti strap top and knickers. "Uh, could you…?"
The Doctor was watching Martha as the sheet fell from her torso. She reached for something and the sheet moved further down her body exposing her bare hip and tiny knickers covering a tiny part of it. Her voice snapped him out of his trance and he pretended to be deep in thought. "Hmmm? Oh! Of course," he said when he pretended to notice she was pointing somewhere. He stood and ran around to the other side of the bed. He grabbed the dressing gown and quickly gave it to her.
"Why don't you put the kettle on, and I'll meet you in the kitchen?" She gestured to her state of undress.
"Right!" He turned and headed to the door before once again stopping.
"Second shelf to the right," she said.
"Thanks!"
Martha quickly dressed and slipped her feet into her comfy slippers. She stopped at the mirror to make sure she didn't have embarrassing bed hair, and shuffled to the kitchen to meet the Doctor.
"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" she asked.
"The Osterhagen Key," he began. "Is it taken care of?"
"Yes," she replied, a bit relieved. "The day after everything happened; I flew to Berlin and took care of it. Jack has it now."
"We know he won't use it," the Doctor said. He walked over to Martha. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she answered. "I'm always fine."
"That's my line," he told her playfully.
"I couldn't help it," she retorted as she went to prepare the tea.
"Martha," he began, as he looked down at his white converse.
"Doctor, don't," she interrupted. "You and I are good. Let's just sit and have a nice cup of tea. Tell me what happened with Donna. A Time Lord brain in a human body could not have had a happy ending."
He looked up at his former companion with tears in his eyes. "Is it okay if we sit first?"
They sat on the sofa drinking tea in silence.
"So, what happened?" she asked, trying not to push him. "Are you ready to talk about it?"
He set his cup on the coffee table and ran a hand through his hair. He told her what happen to Donna, his voice devoid of emotion. When he reached the part where he brought Donna home, the voice was still detached, but the tears began to flow.
"She barely looked at me when I told her I was going," he said. "I killed her. I killed everything she had become."
"You can't blame yourself for what happened," she explained. "She would've lost her life, Doctor."
"She told me not to do it," the Doctor continued.
"I know," she replied. "Don't do this to yourself, please. You always blame yourself." She turned so she was facing him, with one bent leg on the sofa. "You forget that we all knew what we were doing when we agreed to travel with you."
"I still shouldn't have asked any of you," he said softly. The Time Lord stood. "I should go."
"Doctor, please sit," she urged as she took his hand and pulled him to the sofa once again. "You need your friends right now. If you won't talk to me, talk to Sarah Jane or Jack."
"How can you continue to be my friend after I destroyed your life?" he asked with such defeat in his voice, she wanted to cry. "And Donna…poor Donna..."
"I'm so sorry, Doctor," Martha said as she reached over and hugged him. He began to sob uncontrollably against her shoulder as she held him tightly and tried to soothe him, while her own tears flowed freely for the loss of the Donna she knew.
A few minutes later, he pulled back and wiped his tears. His eyes were red and puffy. He noticed that Martha's eyes were also red and puffy. "Look at you," he said gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. "How many times are you going to save my life, Dr. Jones?"
"I didn't do anything this time," she replied. "I listened and was simply being a friend. Does that qualify as saving your life?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied with a smile. He reached over and hugged her once more.
"Martha," the Doctor said. Martha noticed it sounded like a little boy preparing to ask his mother for something.
"You left the biscuits in the kitchen?" she guessed.
"Yes," he said innocently.
"I'll be right back." She stood and walked to the kitchen where she got the rest of the tea and the forgotten biscuits. By the time she reached the sofa, the Doctor was fast asleep. Martha smiled and went to her room to grab a duvet for the sleeping Time Lord.
A few hours later, Martha awoke to the feeling of being watched. The Doctor stood in the doorway of her bedroom sans jacket.
"I'm sorry I woke you," he said sheepishly.
"Were you having bad dreams?" she asked as she switched on the bedside lamp.
"Something like that," he replied.
"Come on, then," Martha said as she patted the right side of the bed. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "It's not like we've never slept in the same bed before," she said defensively. "And the one in 1599 was much smaller."
The Doctor shrugged and crawled into bed with the beautiful young woman. He pulled back the covers and quickly pushed them up before looking up and away. "You were wearing slightly more in 1599, as I recall."
Martha's eyes became wide as saucers. "Could you…turn…please?"
The Doctor quickly jumped off the bed and faced the wall. Martha grabbed a pair of pajama pants from the dresser drawer and quickly slipped them on.
"Sorry," they said to one another at the same time.
"You can turn around now," she told him. The Doctor obeyed and silently asked if it was okay to get into bed. Martha nodded and pulled the covers back. He crawled into bed and lay on his back beside her. "After that rather awkward moment, I'm not the least bit tired right now. What about you?"
"Nope," he answered, making sure to put an emphasis on the 'p'.
"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"
"Huh?" he asked.
"What happened with Rose? What about the other you?" she inquired.
"Nothing to tell, really," he answered. "After what he did, I knew he was too dangerous to be on his own, so I left him in the parallel world with Rose and Jackie."
"You left Rose?" Martha was stunned. "But, why did you do that?"
"I guess, because he needed her more than I did."
"You could be a little more upset about it," she observed. "I don't understand."
"I'd changed, Martha," he stated. "But she hadn't."
"How can you possibly know that?" she questioned before turning to face him. "You hadn't spent that much time together."
The Doctor chuckled. "You really want me to be happy, don't you?"
"Was there ever any doubt about that?"
"I just thought…you…fancied me," he admitted. He turned to face her. "You loved me," he exclaimed as realization dawned on his features.
"Yes," she admitted. "And that love turned into an amazing and wonderful friendship that I wouldn't trade for anything."
"May I ask one hypothetical question?"
"Go for it," she said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.
"What would you do if I died?"
"Do you mean permanently, or, just another regeneration?" she wondered aloud.
"What would you do if I died, and had to regenerate?" he asked.
"I'd be grateful you didn't die permanently, of course."
"Martha, would it matter to you if we were together and I regenerated?" he tried again.
"Is this a trick question, Doctor?" she asked. "You would be alive! That's all that matters, whether we're together or not." She sighed. "Now, why would you ask me a question like that?"
"She wasn't upset that I was dying, Martha," he announced. "She was upset that I was going to regenerate and change the way I look. Do you have any idea how disturbing that is?"
"Oh, dear," she said. "Doctor, I don't know what to say."
"Say I'm a thick old man for being in love with an idea of someone instead of falling for the one I'm supposed to fall for."
"You're delirious from lack of sleep," she declared. "Get some rest."
"Don't you want to talk about this?" he asked.
"No."
Martha switched off the bedside lamp and squeezed her eyes shut.
"I know you're not asleep," the Doctor stated.
"I said I don't want to talk about it," she snapped.
"Martha,"
"Doctor," she interrupted. "No!"
"We have to talk about this."
"I really don't think that's a good idea," Martha advised.
"But, I do."
Martha reached over and switched on the lamp before sitting up. She looked over at the Doctor. He was watching her.
"Stop that," she said. "I'm officially uncomfortable."
"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable." He sat up. "I just need to know why you won't discuss this. Do you still have feelings for me?"
"No," she answered quickly. He raised an eyebrow. "I mean," she corrected. "I'll always have feelings for you that aren't necessarily romantic. I consider you one of my best friends."
"That wasn't so difficult, was it?" he asked. She shook her head. "Now, could you possibly look me in the eye and say that?"
She let her eyes shift to meet his. "I'm perfectly happy with Tom, Doctor."
"That doesn't answer the original question, Martha," he replied.
"I'll answer it," she decided. "But first, I need to say something." He motioned for her to continue. "I have never felt more useless and unnecessary as I did when I was traveling with you. You broke my heart every chance you got because I wasn't a little blonde you worshipped." He stared at her in shock. "I got over that. I moved on. I'm with a beautiful, intelligent man who loves me and appreciates me. And I love him." This time, the Doctor was the one to avert his eyes. "So, can you see? It doesn't matter whether or not I still have those feelings for you. I would never go back to feeling the way you made me feel about myself."
"Blimey," he said. "I won't ask again. How do I apologize for that?"
"Just be my friend," she simply answered.
"Consider it done," he affirmed. She reached over and hugged him, which he happily reciprocated. "It doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying to prove to you that I love you."
"I accept that," she replied as they parted. "Now, get some rest."
She reached over and switched off the lamp. He pulled her into his embrace. Both the Doctor and Dr. Martha Jones fell asleep with tears in their eyes. One: for what could have been. The other: for what would never be.