Buuuurrrrn.

So much pleasure in this chapter. So much satisfaction. I'd daresay I'm happy with it.

What do you guys think?

Small specks of light purple dust floated around them, catching the glimmer of stars and sparkling, dancing like the remains of a fire, yet softer, and somehow more beautiful, despite the danger it had caused. The crystal itself, having grown from the power of the TARDIS, sat, suspended in space, like a puppet without strings. It was now roughly the size of a house. The object, once thick and dark violet, had lightened and grown thin, so much so that you could see space, empty and very real, by looking through it.

Martha sat at the edge, legs dangling over into empty space, her mind blank as she tempted fate. The Doctor stood above her, hands in pockets, watching the hovering specks. She daren't look around, afraid of being reminded of his past regeneration, simply because of the pose he was in.

Both of them seemed afraid to break the silence, but of course in the end she had to. There were too many questions. "What happened, exactly?"

"I let it win," he said. "Sort of. Well, it got what it wanted, which was more power. It was growing far too quickly, and if it stayed there it probably would have broken through the TARDIS' matrix and caused an explosion. I had to take it away from the power source, as well as give it space to grow."

"But what happened?" she frowned. "It was like it swallowed you… and then you fell out the door…"

He was quiet for a second too long. "Fate, Martha," he sighed. "I tempted fate, and... I got lucky. There was no back-up plan, no hope for survival. Not this time. I just got lucky." He lifted one hand from his pocket – his left, closest to Martha – and lowered it so it hovered nearby her face. She looked, and suppressed a gasp: The veins across his wrist and palm were bulging and dyed a sickly purple, the hand around them looking deathly pale.

"It might go away with my next regeneration, I don't know," he frowned, relinquishing his hand, still not looking at her. "I didn't really know anything about this chaos. I still don't, not really."

She stared at her lap, thoughts clashing with one another and making no discernible sense. "So... so the crystal we'd plugged into the TARDIS... sort of teleported, or summoned the other shards, and they combined, and then..."

"And then fed off of the machine's energy, and turned into this," he lightly tapped one foot on the hulking crystal beneath them: it made a light tinkling noise, like falling glass.

She decided against delving deeper into what exactly had happened to him; it didn't matter now, and it wasn't her right to make him say such things, especially if he didn't want to. "Are you sure it's alright to have Rory and Amy in there while the TARDIS is repairing itself?"

He shrugged, looking down. "It doesn't matter. Idris will make sure they're okay."

"Rory said there was something wrong with Amy's eyes-"

"It should be gone now," he added nothing more.

He still refused to meet her eyes, and she looked away, out into space. She'd been with the Doctor enough to understand that the TARDIS behind them was keeping the airless vortex from sucking away her life, but it didn't keep the view from being any less unnerving. The stars seemed close enough to touch. "So what will happen to this thing?"

"Well, it's trapped in the Earth's orbit," he replied. "And at the moment, it's been put into a sort of hibernation, from power overload – that's why you can touch it right now – so it can't do anything too threatening. Fairly soon, your planet will become aware of other lifeforms in space, and it pains me to say, but you'll enter a period of war and fear. During that time, you'd shoot anything even near your planet – including this. And if that doesn't work out, well... I'll always be around."

He said it all very matter-of-a-factly, with little emotion. Martha frowned, watching him, despite the fact that he wouldn't look at her. He was staring at the huge blue planet beneath them. "Will you, Doctor? Will you always be around?"

His expression didn't change, but his eyes twitched towards his left hand before centering back onto space. "I don't know, Martha. But I'll try."

She looked away, and they were both silent. For awhile, there was nothing but the stars, and the silent falling of the purple specks, like snow. She stared at her legs, dangling beneath her, with nothing to hold them, but was incapable of fear.

It could have been hours later, but there came a moment when the Doctor silently whispered, "Look." And she did.

Straddling the edge of the Earth, just barely in view and gradually becoming more noticeable, was a thin line of glimmering orange light. It spread like a beacon; gold shimmered on the edge of the continents, encasing them in an almost unnatural light. It spread as far as it could reach across the glorious blue planet. Light danced in the seas; specks of clouds suddenly seemed to glow. The light almost eclipsed the planet at several points, causing spots to dance in Martha's entranced eyes. Shivers raced up and down her spine as the light burst forth and showed its true strength; its true power.

"Good morning, Britain," The Doctor said softly.

She stared in awe, between both him and the majestic sight. It was becoming harder to watch – the sun was, after all, the sun. "Danger is everywhere," he shot the crystal beneath him a glance. "But so is beauty."

She looked down at her lap, her own hands even shining slightly from the sun's blinding rays, and to her surprise he spoke again.

As unofficial records go, River may hold the one for having seen the most of the TARDIS, but Martha held the honor of having heard most about Gallifrey. Thus far, she'd heard about it with Jack during the year that never was, listened to him talk about it once in the console room, with a faraway expression, years ago, and here, now. Who knows if she will hear of it again.

"On Gallifrey, there's-was, a little field, about a mile from the Citadel of the Timelords. When we were children, we'd get up as soon as we could and run out to the field and try to find the spot. There was a spot out there, where if you stood on it, the sun would be positioned exactly above the tall spire as it rose, so that it would look like the entire city was on fire. And it would catch the light of the globe that surrounded it, and make the entire field dance with every color imaginable – even a few your race doesn't have. An entire, personal light show – but only if you could find the spot." He was quiet for a moment. "I found it, once. Me and the other kids, we made a pact that if any of us ever found it, we'd tell the others immediately. But I couldn't. I was too awed, too inspired, too stunned to speak. It was almost frightening, to be honest. Afterward, I was too ashamed to tell the others, and too guilty to go and try to find it again. I didn't really want to go back, either. It changed me, after I saw it."

His eyes wandered across the galaxy. "It's strange to think that everyday your world is greeted by a deadly thing that could destroy it... but somehow keeps it alive. It was the same story for mine.

"I do wish, now, that I could go back there, and see that powerful sunrise again. I took it for granted, I think. Don't do that, Martha. Don't take this in front of you for granted."

She watched the sun rise, eyes burning with the powerful light coming from it, struggling with the Doctor's words. But he wasn't done yet.

"I knew, Martha. I knew about Rose and River, and Jack and Sarah Jane. I knew the whole time."

She blinked and looked up at him, stunned. "But how?"

He smiled slightly, still not looking at her, but for the moment seemed almost happy, or at least serene. "I had my suspicions from the very beginning, with Jack and Sarah Jane. I figured it out when you said that Jack had found a crystal – one thing I might have learned about this chaos was that it's attracted to its victims. The clues, if subtle, just kept showing themselves from then on. When it comes to Rose and River, well..." his smile was wiped away, and Martha's heart inexplicably skipped a beat. "Well, let's just say I know them better than anyone else. I do love them, after all."

She remembered a time when she had once fallen madly for him. It was gone now, but lingered, like a scar that never healed. Somehow, though, in that moment, it didn't hurt her. She understood.

He laughed once, very softly.

"Donna always told me about how useless she was, about how she wasn't worth my time, about how she didn't understand why I'd chosen her. Looking back on it now, there were things I missed, in my grief for Rose. You were the same way, Martha. You had no confidence, but..." his face screwed up for a moment, almost angrily. "But there were things you didn't notice, too. Rose, I always so happy with her. I always felt like she could handle herself, and figure it out, and I wouldn't have to be afraid for her life. Donna was just fun. I never knew what to expect from her, and I loved that. Amy and Rory? Well, I was almost wary of them. I felt like I was unleashing a storm wherever I took them.

"But you, Martha. You were the one I had pride in. To be honest, when I first met you, I didn't truly believe you would have the strength or bravery for the places I could take you. But every time – every single time – you would impress me, again and again. When I introduced you to others, it was with pride. I said your name with relish. I almost even respected you."

Now, and only now, did he look at her.

"You never noticed. And I never really noticed you."

They stared at each other in silence for an eternity. When she finally did speak, it felt like years had passed, just sitting on the crystal with the sun and the TARDIS watching them. "I suppose we should head back."

"Yes," he said. It was like nothing had happened, and that almost infuriated Martha, but not quite. "The TARDIS should have repaired by now – and I'd figure Amy and Rory have woken up."

As she stood, he turned and began walking back. Watching him, strolling there with his hands in his pockets and the sun making him only half-visible, if Martha squinted, she could see his tenth regeneration, a shadow of the other. Two counterparts, two different worlds, two different men, walking the same path. The same life.

Head dizzy, not quite sure she understood everything she'd been told, Martha turned and followed the alien back to his phone booth.