Chapter Two: Those Left Behind
Martha thought, in a detached manner, that rarely had things gone so spectacularly wrong. Standing unseen in the back of the room, protected by the key, it had almost felt like none of this was real, that she was just an observer; a bystander to someone else's horror story.
But now the Doctor was an old man lying on the floor. The President had been assassinated before her eyes. The Master was taking control and no one seemed able to stop him. And she had just activated a vortex manipulator that would send her down to an unknown and dangerous world. Martha blinked…
And the world shifted.
She was on a large, grassy field overlooking London. And she had no idea how she had gotten there.
"We're the only two left, there's no one else. Regenerate!"
The Doctor was kneeling on the floor in the control room of the Valiant, cradling the Master. And he couldn't let go. He couldn't let go of the last remaining link to his destroyed world.
In a way, holding the Master, it felt like he was holding—
He had been the rebel, the one that others pointed their fingers at and warned, "Take care lest you end up like that one." For so many years his world had not been his home; it had been the rock that he pushed against, the safe harbor that he spurned. That spurned him in return. He had taken it for granted, in all its exasperating, head-in-the-sand glory. And there had been few on its surface whose company he enjoyed.
When Gallifrey had died…he hadn't been able to hold any of them. Instead he had left a world burning.
In some ways, he, too, had died that day on Gallifrey.
He had just shut down and ran and ran and ran. And was still running, sometimes. He had thought, with the Master…
Maybe it's time to settle down.
He had been running for so long. He had been alone for so long.
When after all those years there was another Time Lord…he had grasped at that hope with an intensity that frightened him.
And he had been willing to do almost anything if it meant no longer being alone.
He had known the Master would be expecting them that day on the Valiant. Jack and Martha had trusted him and he had practically led them to slaughter.
Even in the end, after the Master had—
After all the death and destruction.
He couldn't let him go.
But it hadn't been his decision, in the end. The Master had refused to regenerate. And his refusal…
The agony was unrelenting. It tore into him, smashed him asunder.
It hurt to be broken.
He kept holding on to the Master as if by doing so he could somehow hold onto all the pieces of a life that had been broken and broken and broken again.
"Doctor," Jack said quietly.
The man crouched on the floor before him was motionless for one second, two. Then Jack heard a soft, shaky intake of breath, before the Doctor carefully lay down his burden and laboriously rose to his feet.
But when the Doctor straightened up there was no trace of tears on his face. Only a barren, impenetrable expression that was so…
Silent.
Empty.
Jack faltered, but asked the question that had brought him here. "Doctor, where's Martha?"
The face in front of him could have been made of stone.
He tried again. "Her family really wants to find her." No reaction. "I do too."
The almost unnoticeable wince told him that the Doctor had understood the unspoken accusation in those words. Don't you?
There was an uncomfortable pause, before the Doctor closed his eyes and rubbed at his face tiredly. He looked…weary, the fatigue lines somehow more apparent than they had been a moment ago.
After a moment he opened his eyes and looked at Jack. "It's a big world," he said quietly. And for a moment, some deep emotion seemed to catch on the Doctor's face. But what it was...
Jack didn't know.
And he didn't know what to make of this…frozen Doctor. This blankness.
But he could guess.
Jack hesitated, then said, "You think she's dead, don't you?"
The Doctor jerked, his face showing shock. "What?" he said. "No! No, no, no. I was just—" He stopped, then awkwardly finished the sentence. "I was just…thinking."
Thinking. It wasn't hard to imagine the direction of those thoughts. About how much a year can change.About how it's like it never happened, except—
There was a pause, and the Doctor said suddenly, "I need to…I need to take him to the TARDIS." He shifted awkwardly, as if this was a forbidden act. "Before anyone comes around to…"
"Yeah," Jack said.
The Doctor carefully lifted the still form of the Master into his arms, heedless of the blood that already dotted his usually immaculate jacket. If the burden was heavy, he didn't show it.
"Martha wouldn't be on the Valiant," the Doctor said, as if their conversation had never stopped. As if he could just ignore everything he didn't want to talk about. "Eye of the storm, remember." He glanced over at Jack. "As long as she was on the Valiant she was out of the loop. But once she left…she got caught up in the storm. When time was reversed, it reversed the storm."
Jack said, "And so Martha—"
"—is wherever she was when she left the Valiant." For a moment the Doctor's face lightened, the shadows in his eyes softening.
Jack waited for the Doctor to continue. To say something else. About Martha. About anything. But there was only silence.
"Shouldn't we go find her?" Jack finally asked.
And the Doctor's face shut down again. "I can't—" The Doctor broke off his words, hesitated, then seemed to force himself to speak. "I need to stay here. Fix the TARDIS." He swallowed. "Take care of…" His eyes involuntarily shifted to the body he was holding. Then he looked once again to Jack. "Will you get her for me?"
Yeah," Jack said, "Sure." But he noticed the Doctor never met his eyes.
It was actually relatively quiet here. And beautiful, with the whole of London stretching out before her. It was almost enough to make Martha forget that she had no bloody idea what she was doing here.
Jack's vortex manipulator was in her hands. The last thing she remembered was holding the aged Doctor on the floor of the Valiant, hearing the Master declare the end of the world…and then, here.
Well, the world still seemed to be standing.
She briefly considered using the manipulator to try and return to the Valiant. Briefly. Bad idea. Unless she wanted to end up lost in space AND time.
And then a lone figure crested the horizon and any further thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the very welcome approach of one Captain Jack Harkness.
"Jack!" she said, starting towards him. He broke into a wide grin.
Upon reaching her, Jack picked her up in his arms and swung her around. "Now, there's a sight for sore eyes," he said.
"Jack, put me down!" Martha protested through her laughter.
But when she finally was able to get a good look at him the laughter stopped. Something was off here. If her time with the Doctor had taught her anything, it was a sense of when something was Wrong.
And right now every fiber of Martha's being was screaming at her.
"Jack," she said, "What's going on?"
Jack hesitated for a moment.
"Where's the Doctor? And what—"
"Martha," Jack said. "It's all right. The Master…"
He faltered for a moment before continuing. "The Master's gone."
"What? Gone how?"
Again Jack hesitated. He finally said, "I think the Doctor should explain."
And then she knew. Something had happened. Something he wasn't telling her.
Why did Jack look like he had lived a thousand lifetimes in the time they had been separated? How could the Master just be…gone?
And where was the Doctor? Why hadn't he come to get her?
But Jack wouldn't say anything more.
Jack knocked on the door of the TARDIS. "Doctor? It's me, Jack. I found Martha."
They waited, a bit awkwardly, for the Doctor to open the door. She still didn't know what to make of the man standing beside her. He was Jack. And yet…
The Jack she knew wouldn't be practically monosyllabic on the trip back to the Valiant. He kept looking at her when he thought she wasn't watching, sneaking glances as if he was afraid she had suddenly vanished from his side.
And when had his face become so careworn?
What happened? What did this?
Jack knocked again, but the Doctor still didn't open the door. Finally, Jack stepped back and gave her an apologetic look. "Maybe you better just go in. I still have—" He stopped and grimaced. "Let's just say there are a lot of messes to clean up."
He started to leave, then hesitated, and turned back around.
"Martha?" he said, "I'm glad you're back."
And then he was gone, leaving her alone in front of the TARDIS.
It only took a moment to pull her TARDIS key over her head, and place it in the lock. She hesitated, then turned the key and softly pushed open the door before putting the key back around her neck and stepping inside.
It felt like coming home. The harsh red light from the paradox machine was gone, replaced by the soft earthy tones she'd come to love. And the Doctor…
He was right in the middle of it all. There was clearly still a lot of damage left to repair from the paradox machine. He had glanced up when the door opened, but his eyes had moved past her and right now he was almost frantically working on the TARDIS. It was such a familiar sight that Martha almost laughed.
"Doctor," she said.
He jerked around as if he had been shot.
And that was when she saw the Master. An involuntary gasp escaped her.
She looked at the Doctor.
"Is he…?"
There was a long silence.
"Yes," the Doctor said, staring fixedly at the wall above the body. He had stopped working and was just standing there, hands in pockets.
Looking so lost.
"I'm sorry," Martha said, helplessly.
For a moment the Doctor was silent, then he said. "Don't be. He deserved it." His voice was hard, as hard and rough as granite, and so, so cold. He turned around and began banging away on a piece of the TARDIS that she suspected didn't need fixing.
Martha somehow found the courage to speak. "But you didn't."
She was utterly unprepared for his response to her words. The Doctor shattered. Even with his back to her…he looked beaten to within an inch of his life.
Finally, he turned back around. But when he spoke…her heart almost broke.
"Losing him, even after he—" The Doctor stopped and couldn't look at Martha. "I thought I was mostly over…it."
Over the Time War. Over losing everyone.She didn't need to ask what 'it' was.
Abruptly, he stepped away from her. "I need to go," he said, still not quite looking at her.
She was caught off guard. "But…what about my family?" Martha said, "And I still—"
"Alone," said the Doctor.
She could feel her face crumple, but before she could argue, or chain herself to the TARDIS infrastructure, he continued.
"I'll be back in a little bit." He was suddenly looking weary beyond comprehension. "But this is something I need to do." Alone.
And then they were at the TARDIS door and he was carefully but firmly pushing her out and then the door shut and…
She was still standing there, moments later, when the TARDIS disappeared.
What did it mean to have lived so long that your enemies became your family?
The Doctor built a pyre and placed the Master's body on it.
His world, when it had been millions of people, had ended in flames. Now it was only one, but it still ended in flames.
Burning.
It seemed fitting.
Fire was supposed to purify, to cleanse. But all he knew…
The only thing it left was ashes.
He stood and watched the body be consumed by the flames. And as the fire flickered up into the night, he was also burning the hope the Master had embodied.
You Are Not Alone.
Until all that was left were ashes.
He walked away, but in his hearts he was running, running, running again.
It was only a short time before the Doctor returned.
Martha turned to see him walking towards her. He looked old and weary and she found herself wondering what could have happened to so completely transform the most animated man she knew—into this.
"Hey," she said quietly.
He hesitated. "Hey," he said. The word seemed to catch in his throat.
Suddenly, Martha was afraid of what he would tell her.
The cold, hard Doctor was gone, but what was left seemed to be only a shadow. "Martha Jones," he whispered, and there was a deep sadness in his eyes.
Then he was hugging her, wrapping her in his arms as if he never wanted to let go, as if he needed the touch, needed to feel someone. Finally, he held her shoulder-length away and looked at her searchingly.
"Martha, what's the last thing you remember?"
It took her a moment to answer the question. "I was on the Valiant," she said slowly. "You had been…" She stumbled over the words. "Jack gave me his teleporter. After that… I was at some field overlooking London."
"Do you remember how you got down there?"
She suspected her face was all the answer he needed. "Not—not exactly."
"Martha, listen to me very carefully," The Doctor's voice was gentle, but she could see that he was deathly serious. "The time between when you were on the Valiant and when you found yourself in that field; it wasn't a few seconds. It wasn't even a few hours."
She stared at him, not understanding where he was going, even as a little voice inside her head started screaming at her.
"What are you saying?"
"Martha…" The Doctor stopped and looked down for a moment, before meeting her eyes once again. "You were gone for an entire year."
A/N: When I watched "Last of the Time Lords" I wondered why all the people who were on the Valiant when the paradox machine started weren't there after time reversed. This was a rather important question for my story that I attempted to answer to the best of my abilities.
My take on the subject is that the Valiant was the "eye of the storm" both when the paradox began and when it ended. Thus, people who were on the Valiant when the paradox started were "safe" until they left the Valiant and got swept up into the paradox storm. When time reversed, it only reversed the effects of the storm, so these people returned to where they were the instant they left the Valiant's safety net. However, because they weren't on the Valiant when the paradox ended, they would only be able to remember everything up to when the Master activated the machine at 8:02 because the entire year would be erased from their memory.
Get it? Got it? Good. Let me know if this makes any sense. And if it's caught your interest!
