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Chapter VII

He could hear her heart beating steadily from his position behind her. He pressed himself closer, kissing her shoulder as he shifted behind her, listening to her breathe. He knew the peace wouldn't last, that they'd have to confront the past and the future once they were both awake. Confronting the future, the past or any time period wasn't a problem- it was what he did for a living. But it was their future, their past. And it absolutely terrified him. So he decided to focus on the present: the feeling of her bare flesh against his, her steady breathing, and the steady thump-thump of her heart as it lulled him back to his slumber.

She, on the other hand, couldn't rest so easily. She couldn't open her eyes- or rather, she flat out refused to. She couldn't bear to open her eyes to realize that it had all been a dream. Even with his arms wrapped around her and his lips on her shoulder, she couldn't risk opening her eyes and seeing another stranger looking back at her. Or, even worse, that it hadn't been a dream and that he'd dropped her back off at her house. Every possible outcome ran through her head, none of them good. So she held onto the fantasy of last night: their lovemaking, the way he looked at her, his admissions of love. She replayed those scenes behind her closed lids because she couldn't quite handle reality at the moment.

She laid there for what felt like hours, not daring to look beyond her lashes until she felt him stir beside her. She felt his warmth fade from her as his bare feet slapped against the floor. There was a faint rustling of clothing, trousers she assumed, then walking away. Finally, she found the courage to open her eyes. The same beautiful baroque room was what she found, though the candles had been blown out. Even in the darkness of the room, she still found it breathtaking. Her thoughts were interrupted by the wheezing sound of the TARDIS engines. They were in flight.

When he returned with two cups of tea, he found her sitting straight up under the duvet, clothed in his white dress shirt; a completely un-sexy gesture of modesty and insecurity but he was only drawn to her more. He gave a small smile and she couldn't help but return it.

"Hey, you." He said, handing her a cup.

"Hey, yourself." She quipped, not quite meeting his gaze.

He took a seat across from her on the bed, not quite knowing where the conversation should go. Luckily, she started first.

"So," she began. "Taking me home, then?"

"Is that what you want?" His voice dropped. He'd finally gotten her back. It couldn't be over. Not yet. He let out a sigh of relief when he heard her say, "Not exactly." He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath.

"I set the coordinates for the moon's gravitational field. We're orbiting around it now. I thought it fitting since, you know, that was our first kiss." His words surprised her. Before last night, she'd hardly heard him say anything so sentimental, and never directed at her. She let another smile grace her full lips. They sat in awkward silence and sipped their tea- neither of them sure of what to do next. The Doctor had no desire to open the can of worms and spoil the beauty and absolute majesty that occurred the night before.

Suddenly he heard her. Her voice was soft, but steady. "You know we have to talk about this, right?"

"Right." He agreed, although every fiber of his being fought against it. She needed this; she needed and deserved to know and to have her questions answered. He, however, wanted nothing more than to avoid the conversation all together- to take her on adventures and erase all of the pain he had caused her and live happily ever after. But he was old and clever enough to know that 'happily ever after' didn't exactly agree with him. On the contrary, it seemed to go out of its way to elude him.

"Where do I begin?" He said, more to himself than to her. She answered anyway, feeling her need for an explanation growing. Didn't he owe her that much? She inwardly rolled her eyes, realizing far too late that she'd inherited her mother's temper and tone.

"How about at the beginning? Or maybe at 'I love you'? Either of those sound about right." She sat her empty cup in her lap and crossed her arms. Was what he said even true? Did he actually love her? Or was it some manipulative Time Lord ploy to fulfill some impulse? He never seemed like the type, but he never said he'd loved her before either. She felt her fear of the unknown bubble inside of her. Every second he wasted thinking of the right thing to say felt like hours to her.

"I'm sorry… I'm so-" She rolled her eyes. She didn't need his apologies or his pity. She now saw things for what they really were and couldn't believe she'd let herself fall for it. It was a pity fuck. Or so she thought.

"Oh God, cut the shit Doctor! Blimey! How could I be so stupid?" She jumped up from the bed, her cup shattering on the hardwood floor. He scrambled to the other side of the bed, his own cup spilling over the burgundy duvet.

"Wait, Martha! Wait. You don't understand." He cut her off at the foot of the bed. When she raised a hand to hit him, he caught it in midair, pinning her hands together against his bare chest.

"Oh, I understand just fine, Doctor! I don't need your pity! After all, 'This means nothing', right?" She spat his own words at him, and as much as it hurt, his grip remained firm. He listened silently as she continued, struggling against him all the while.

"I'm 'not replacing her', right? And to think, I really actually thought that you loved me. When really, you just deceived me. You used me to get off, is that it? I forgot how much of a liar you really were."

He closed his eyes. The rage was building. He knew he deserved this, deep down he probably even knew that things would turn out like this, but he couldn't put a leash on the anger. When he opened them again, the rage was there, but his voice was quiet.

"Martha, you're wrong." He said through clenched teeth. "You don't know how wrong you are." His hands tightened around her wrists and she stopped struggling. She was small and completely drowning in his shirt, but she seemed to grow taller in the fire of his gaze. Her eyes narrowed to mirror his, and her tongue seemed to sharpen against her teeth like a blade against a whetstone.

"Then enlighten me, oh Great One. If I'm so wrong, then what are we even doing here?"

He sighed and softened his grip, still not letting her go.

"I… love you. I have for a long time. Longer than I probably realized. I'm not sure when I realized it actually, probably long after I'd already insulted you. But when I did, I fought it. Fiercely." He looked into her eyes. They'd gone from narrow slits to dinner plates. He let her go and walked around her to sit on the bed.

"Why?" It was only one simple word, but her voice held a million questions. Why would you deny me? If you loved me, why would you push me away? Why couldn't we just be together? Why did you treat me like shit if you loved me so much?

"You know the answer to that."

Her eyes and heart sank.

"Rose."

"Martha, I'm 910. I'm an old man. I hadn't allowed myself to love anyone in decades. I let Rose in. Oh, it took so long, but I did. I let her in. And we were happy. Then she was ripped away from me before I could even tell her what she meant. I loved her." His voice was cracking, but commanding. Something in his tone asked for her silence.

"You two are so different. She was smart, but so naïve. I took her with me to have someone adore me. To show her things that she could only imagine in her wildest dreams She was a shop girl- not that anything's wrong with that, but when she met me, she was a child of 18 and her worldview was… limited. I loved her because she made me feel powerful. I could do anything and save anyone because she hadn't known much else." Martha knew she should be feeling hate for the way he talked about Rose, the way that the distant girl's name rolled off of his tongue and landed in the pit of her stomach, the way that he could still make her feel so small. However, she felt the small veins of compassion rise, much to her dismay.

"When I met you, you were so different. I thought that was what I needed. You two were almost opposites. You were clever, quick on your toes in a street-smart sort of way. You'd already traveled the world before you met me, knew different languages despite the TARDIS translation matrix, you were brilliant outside of me. You were intriguing for how much you didn't need me. You hardly ever needed saving. You saved yourself more times than I ever did.

I must've felt it back then. When I left you the first time. That's why I treated you that way. I was falling for this smart, beautiful human medical student, yet I wasn't over the shop girl. I took it out on you, pushed you away, but couldn't bear to let you go."

He looked up from his spot on the bed, taking her hand. "You were so devoted to me. You gave me your last breath. I remember that. You kept me sane in 1969. You took care of me in 1913. You walked the earth for me. I remember it all; the little things and the big things. But most of all, I remember how you loved me more than anything and how I took that love for granted. I've carried it with me for so long. After you left me, I was broken, but didn't know why. I was angry at you for leaving. Angry at myself for letting yet another woman I loved get ripped away without saying anything. I didn't even notice how much better you made me. Nor how absolutely crazy you must have felt staying with me as long as you did. I didn't notice until I saw Tom's ring on your finger." Her heart hurt at the thought of Tom. The guilt threatened to rise like bile from her throat, but she forced it back down. He continued.

"I thought I'd just get over you; that it was infatuation because you were beautiful and smart and devoted. But it only got worse. And seeing you walk down that aisle was unbearable. But seeing you cry at the funeral was worse. I would have done anything to take away your pain. Seeing you so happy with Mickey, of all people- well that was just a cosmic slap in the face. It was what I deserved: My ultimate reward. I 'stole' Rose from him, and he stole you from me."

It was here she decided to interject.

"Doctor, no matter how you feel about me now or felt about me then, Mickey didn't steal me. You threw me away. 'One man's trash' and all…" her voice was soft and logical. Martha sat down beside him.

"Am I supposed to feel bad because you figured it out too late? Doctor, what was a slow burn for you was a wild fire for me. I suffered waiting for your love. You're right. I was devoted. I loved you so much and I paid with my heart. You could never know how painful that is: everyone you come in contact with has no choice but to love you. But you could never understand the other side of that coin. Seeing me get married twice, feeing the way you say you do, must have hurt you. But not nearly as much as living with you, traveling beside you for all that time, and all the while living in her shadow." She had tears in her eyes that she refused to let spill. He wasn't off the hook that easily.

"I know-"

"No Doctor," she cut him off, her voice still quiet. "You don't know. I risked my life for you time and time again. I was prepared to die for you at one point and you treated me like shit. What kind of love does that? If you loved me like you say, why treat me like second-no- third best?"

"I'd like to make it up to you. I know I don't deserve it, but I want to make it right. I was scared. I didn't want to lose you or watch you die. But if you leave me now, Martha, I… I don't…"

He broke off, unable to continue. He'd been holding her hand, but now he was crushing it in his grasp. She felt the warm drops that his tears left on her skin. Her heart swelled with love and compassion. The tears she'd been holding onto finally fell.

"Martha, I love you. Give me a chance to show you. Please." She never heard the Doctor beg for anything and look in his eyes told her he meant it. She loved him, and she couldn't get him out of her system. It was time to face facts.

"I love you too, Doctor." Her eyes locked on his before bringing his hands to her lips and kissing them gently. A quivering smile crept onto her lips.

He leaned forward and kissed her sweetly. With their emotions finally laid bare, he was beginning to feel like they finally had a shot at a fresh start.

Whew! Done and Done! What's going to happen next? REVIEW GUYS!

xoxo, LPL