On the foreground outside the red stained cherry finish of the window frame lay children playing in the courtyard. The Doctor observed quietly from a matching red stained wooden chair in Martha's apartment. His face draped with a disheartened look as one of the children lightly slaps another on the back and runs away in the opposite direction hoping to avoiding getting tagged. His only thoughts were remnants of his past when the Master was sensible and could listen to reason. But not now, the Master has grown into a madman.
"Maybe Its my fault, maybe if I were there for him he wouldn't have been forced to make friends with such dark paths. If I didn't run, if I stayed. Could I have stopped this all from happening?"
Martha emerges from the kitchen holding two white tea cups. The strings on the side of the cups indicate the bags are still steeping in them. She places one down in front of the Doctor on a top of a decorative lacy tabletop. She keeps the other cup for herself and leans on a wall adjacent to the Doctor. The Doctor unphased by the presents of the tea or Martha continues to warily keep a watchful eye through the glass. Martha takes in the moment. The Doctor's eyes seem so sad and distant as he gazes outside, the same teary eyes an old harden war veteran would display during a memorial service.
Frankly, it scared Martha a bit. She took a light sip out of her tea and cleared her throat to break the eerie silence and capture the Doctor's attention. The desperate plea to reestablish connect with the Doctor went unnoticed. His face only drew a longer frown. Martha would like to believe these punch-drunk moments happen as frequently as Haley's comet passing over the Earth but ever since the Doctor figured out the Master was behind the tower's this look as been a main stable on his tried face. This scared her even more, the Doctor knows something and he's not willing to divulge the information.
This time she managed to manifest an exaggerated cough, again nothing. Instead of engaging him for the third time she resolved to turn on the television. Any sort of media-hyped news would be more helpful than the Doctor right now she thought to herself. She turned slightly to pick up the remote, clicked a button and waited for the black screen to come alive. She took a relaxing sip of her tea and flipped through the channels.
Sports, procedural cop show, weather, sports, drama, cooking, news.
She stopped at the news.
"Reports confirm the former Prime Minster, Harold Saxon was found naked, dazed and drunk near the Hungerford Bridge in London. Eyewitnesses report him shouting into the air and laughing. He is being contained at a holding cell at Brookshire police station for questioning and to determine if he is a possible threat to anyone or himself. No farther information is available at this time."
Martha almost spat out her tea at the screen. The Doctor, however, leaped out of his chair and grasped both sides of the television. His spiked rooster like hair smashed against the glass. His only words were
"WHAT?!"