Chapter 2: You Saved the World.

He shouldn't be surprised really. He's known this day would come.

He knew the second she stepped onboard that she was leaving him. It was written all over her face. It was in the way she stood—shoulders back, feet planted, eyes determined yet sympathetic. He should let her speak her piece, but he's babbling anyway. Anything to hold off the loneliness for just a little bit longer.

"Right then!" He's on his feet in a second to start the flight sequence. Because maybe if he starts the sequence before she speaks she won't leave. Maybe she'll let temptation rule her just one more time. It's worked before. "Off we go! The open road! There's a burst of star fire right now over the coast of Meta Sigmafolio. Oh, the sky is like oil on water. Fancy a look?"

He stares in her eyes for a moment, and it's there. That look he knows all too well by now. That's a goodbye in her eyes.

But he's off again before she can say anything. "Or…back in time. We could…I dunno." He's slowly walking around the console now as he undoes the start up to the flight sequence. Because she's leaving, and he can see by the set of her jaw that he's not going to stop her. She's outgrown him during their year apart. She's become a much stronger person than the Martha he once knew. This Martha won't allow herself to give in to the temptation all of time and space provides. He knows he should stop talking now. He should let her say what she's come to say. He owes her at least that.

But he forces himself to keep talking. Because once she's gone he'll be alone again. Alone in this big empty ship with all of its ghosts—all the people he's lost during his long life. And as much as he respects her decision, he desperately wants to keep her around.

"Charles II?" he suggests weakly. "Henry VIII?" His attempts at piquing her curiosity are becoming increasingly feeble. Because who is he to stop her from leaving? What was here to make her stay? All of time and space, yes, but what else? Constant adventure won't be enough for her anymore, he knows that. Not after the ordeal she's just had. But he can't give her what she wants.

He's an alien, but he's not daft. He'd known right from the start that he was leading her on, but he couldn't make himself deal with her infatuation properly. He was too selfish—too afraid she'd leave him if she knew the truth.

He wanted to laugh at himself for that thought. She was leaving him anyway. There was never anything he could have done to stop the inevitable from happening. From the moment she stepped on the TARDIS, her days with him were numbered. He'd always known he would eventually lose her. Whether it be by her own volition or due to his cowardly nature didn't really matter in the end.

"I know!" he shouts with new energy. He can't let her see his defeat now. "What about Agatha Christie? I'd love to meet Agatha Christie! I bet she's brilliant!"

He gives her a wide beaming smile, but it fades when she doesn't return it. He can't keep this charade going forever.

"Okay," he says, and there's a finality to the word that leaves him just a little bit hollow.

She finally steps closer to him. "I just can't."

He nods, but avoids her eyes. "Yeah."

She half smiles at him, and jerks her head towards the front doors. "Spent all these years training to be a doctor. Now I've got people to look after. They saw half the planet slaughtered and they're devastated. I can't leave them."

He swallows. What about him? He just lost the last remaining link to his people. He was truly alone in the universe now. What would he do without her?

He looks down at her, and it's like he's seeing her for the first time. She's beautiful, his Martha Jones. He doesn't mean that in the physical sense, although he's sure that's true too. But it's really her soul that he finds himself so enraptured by. It's still there in her eyes—that fierce look of loyalty. It's directed towards her family now, he knows that, but if he thinks back far enough he can recall a handful of times when that look was directed towards him. How has he not seen that before?

He knows why he hasn't seen it before. It's because he wasn't looking at her. Properly looking. Because if he'd seen her, even for a moment, he would have known immediately how much he cared for her.

He wants to tell her now—that he does, truly, care—but it's too late. It's far too late. The best way he could show her that now would be to let her go.

"Of course not," he says in answer to her declaration of loyalty, and then he smiles at her. Because she's so strong—she's one of the strongest people he's ever known. She saved the whole world all on her own, for Rassilon's sake, and him in the process. And oh, looking back he sees it now. All the ways she's saved him since the day they met.

What was he going to do without her?

He hugs her tightly—far more tightly than he can recall ever hugging her before. Because he suddenly sees it. He doesn't know how, and he doesn't know when, but somewhere along the way he genuinely started to care for her. Somewhere down the line she stopped being a filler for the hole that the loss of Rose had left in his hearts and had started carving her own space. And now that she'd thoroughly embedded herself into his hearts, she was leaving.

And he has to let her. He knows he does. To do anything else would be an insult to her. And he has far too much respect for her to betray her loyalty in such a way.

"Thank you," he tells her fervently. And then he gives her what must be the first genuine smile he's given her since they met. "Martha Jones. You saved the world."

And it's there in his words—everything he's trying to tell her, but can't.

She smiles back up at him. "Yes, I did. I spent a lot of time with you thinking I was second best, but you know what?" She nods to herself. "I am good."

He couldn't be more proud to hear her say that out loud.

She cocks her head at him and he sees a brief flash of worry cross her face. "You gonna be alright?"

He quickly nods. "Always. Yeah."

"Right, then," she says, and then stands up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek before she turns to leave.

He watches her go with a proud smile on his face, and turns to the console once the doors have shut.

Onwards and upwards.