"Martha?"
The severity in the Doctor's voice startled her. She pushed herself up off her towel into a seated position and lowered her sunglasses. "What is it?"
The Doctor was the only one of the group not wearing a bathing suit, despite all of Jack's efforts to get him into the tiniest swim trunks Martha had ever seen. Rose said she would pack her bags for the other universe the day she saw him wearing them and the Doctor was terrified of them anyway. At least he had the good sense to take off the suit jacket, tie, socks, and shoes and to pop open a few buttons on the shirt. It had been Donna who demanded that his trouser legs and shirt sleeves be rolled up and he had been smart enough to oblige her. "Look over there," he directed firmly.
The scene that Martha's attention was called to was Jack and Rose in the middle of a game of beach volleyball. Jack was obviously trying to adapt his serve for Rose's current level of mobility. Rose's back was to them but Martha knew that Rose was resenting this gentlemanly gesture and insisting that he just hit the bloody thing.
"I see nothing dangerous about this situation," Martha reported. She tried to keep her next comment sounding like she hadn't already said it eighteen times. "Rose knows the limits of the leg an-"
"Look at Rose," the Doctor cut in.
Martha did so again and then glared back at the Doctor in amusement. "Keep your fantasies to yourself, mister!"
"No, I mean-"
Martha chuckled. "Last I checked string bikinis were not illegal."
"NO," he snapped in frustration. "Look at her back!"
At first Martha was confused. Rose Tyler's back was not a novelty. They'd all seen it. That faint criss-crossing scar that pattered down from the base of Rose's neck and stopped just above the top of her bikini bottoms made her back one of the more memorable ones Martha had seen…
Martha's brain suddenly stopped. When thought processes returned she alternated her gaze between Rose's scar and the Doctor's eyes. This study brought three very important conclusions to her mind: That the Doctor had never seen that scar before, that he knew what would cause that scar, and that it really was not good.
"I take it you've never seen that before?" she found herself asking.
"And you have?" he asked her.
"I did examine her."
"Why didn't you say something?"
Martha glared at him again. "To her or to you?" she asked with a touch of annoyance. "I am a doctor, a PROPER doctor, you know? I don't just blab about everyone's medical exams." The Doctor began to take on that puppy dog expression and began to say something. Martha silenced him with a glare. "Besides," she continued. "It's old. I was a little more worried about a mangled leg and a couple bullet holes than some old scar tissue."
"Of course," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she assured him automatically. "Now, I do believe you know how she got that scar or you wouldn't look so very ill right now."
He nodded. "Endrite torture," he said in this strange mix of awe and fear. "They rip open your back at the spine, just like opening a zipper, and plug nodes into your spinal cord. The nodes stimulate every nerve in there at once at the push of a button. It's just…the most exquisite pain you can ever imagine…actually I'm not even sure anyone can imagine that." He shuddered and kept quiet again. Martha knew that this reaction could simply be because he couldn't imagine someone doing that to Rose, but it was clear that she was alive and well. Which left only one other possibility.
"That's what they did to you?"
"Yep."
He didn't want pity; she knew he wouldn't want that. It took every force of will not to give him any. This was, to her knowledge anyway, the first time he'd even discussed his captivity with anyone. So she turned it back to Rose. "Rose didn't recognize the aliens and I didn't see any scars on you."
"Fendrites got me," the Doctor explained. "They do a better job of sewing you back up than the Endrites do. You lot also got to me faster."
"How long do you think she was with them?" Martha threw a hand over her mouth. "No, sorry, forget I asked. Just forget it."
"Thirty standard days" he replied, sounding more like a textbook than a living person.
Shouts of outrage were heard from the court and Martha turned to see Donna massaging her head and yelling at Jack and Rose. Jack and Rose were laughing and apologizing all at once. Rose turned to pick up the ball, giving Donna full view of her back.
"What the hell is that?" she asked.
Rose looked at her in confusion then turned her head to see the scar. She waved a hand in dismissal. "Old war wound," she told her. "Now how's about making good on those threats, yeah?"
"Talk to her about it," Martha told him. "And you talk back," she said sternly. "You need to talk about it and she's not going to open her mouth one inch without a good reason. Especially since it's been so long for her and the scar itself doesn't bother her; she wouldn't be wearing a bikini otherwise."
The Doctor nodded slowly. "Agreed."
That was all the Martha got out about him on the subject.
- - - - -
"I am a tomato."
The Doctor looked up to see Rose, still clad in that pink string bikini, waltz into his bedroom looking much redder than he'd last seen her. "Well, I wouldn't say tomato," he said. "Not quite red enough."
Rose placed her hands on her hips and turned around to display her back. Some park of the Doctor's mind registered that her back was closer in colour to a tomato but his eyes were all for that black scar, which now stood out all the more.
"See what I mean?" she asked, completely oblivious what was going on behind her. "Bit closer to tomato, yeah?" She moved her hands to grasp the door frame and all the Doctor could see was shackled wrists and an exposed spinal column.
"A little," the Doctor squeaked. He hadn't meant his voice to come out quite that way but it made Rose turn around fast enough to lose her balance. The Doctor didn't remember getting up and catching her, but the next thing he was holding her up by the forearms and she was regarding him carefully.
"What is it? Have I got third degree burns back there?"
He shook his head.
"Then what is it?"
How long ago had it been for her? How much time would need to pass for her to effectively forget the circumstances around that horrific scar?
The light of comprehension dawned in Rose's eyes. "That's nothing," she told him firmly. "Not as bad as it looks." She was confident and even a bit forceful. It was a lie she'd had to have told many times but he was different than anybody else she'd spoken to about it. She was banking on the fact that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't know what had really happened. It would be easy on both of them to just pretend he didn't know. But Martha was right, Martha was always right.
He held her tighter. "I know what that scar means." Rose tried to pull out of the hug but the Doctor held her firm. "It's what happened to me," he whispered into her ear. "It's what you saved me from."
Rose tensed in his arms and then pushed him far enough for her to look up at him. It was a complete reversal of roles from earlier this morning. "Please tell me that's not true."
"I can't do that," he said. His fingers started tracing Rose's scar.
"Please." It was a plea. A plea that her ordeal could not possibly have ever happened to anyone she cared about. His own voice echoed back to him, reminding him that Rose had been captive for at least a month. He couldn't imagine the hell that a human would have gone through let alone this certain human. One week had been more than enough for him.
He shook his head. "I don't have scars but it did happen."
Rose shook her head violently. Tears were starting to build in her eyes. "I don't believe you," she sobbed. "I can't believe…I said no one else, no one else I said…"
He held her close again and, and as Rose sobbed into his shirt, thought that everything he could say to her wouldn't be enough to get her to believe it. He watched his hands tracing the scar and had an idea. He whispered her name and waited until she looked up at him to waggle his fingers at her. He didn't expect her to accept and almost immediately started having second thoughts. He wanted to help her and he wanted to share his story with someone who understood.
"I'll show you too," Rose told him and he saw the same fear in her eyes. Fear of reliving her experience and knowing exactly what he had gone through. She took his hands and let him to his bed. When they were both lying down on it she led his hands to her temples and nodded her consent.
The Doctor decided he'd show first and once again he found himself bound and shirtless. Wide awake and fully aware as his back was opened and the nodes were attached. Across from him, instead of the leader who had always been watching him he saw Rose bound, shirtless and enduring her own grotesque operation. It wasn't the Rose he knew now but the Rose he had known before, he saw after observation. Beyond the grit and blood he saw the younger face, the platinum blonde hair and dark roots, and realised that her ordeal must have been very soon after their farewell and he again cursed himself for never being able to find a way to her.
"No use worrying about it now." He heard Rose's voice in his head and he looked over at her. Her teeth were grit and she held his eyes. "Together this time, yeah?" she gasped.
He nodded. "Together," he forced out.
Together they rode through the operation. Together they were with each other through countless torture and interrogation and when the Doctor's ended, the fight Rose and the others had put up and the final charge as much as the Doctor could remember being the closing scene, and Rose's continued he stayed with her. He watched as her experiences with her captors was intensified, her only reason for being sane was her constant attempts to escape, despite all the pain those efforts caused her.
She eventually did though. His clever girl found her way out of there alone. She'd dragged herself out of there and met her own rescue party at the doors. He withdrew as gently as he'd entered and he met Rose's wide, tear stained eyes when full awareness returned to him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to him.
"Don't be," he whispered back.
"I said no one else would ever go through that," she said forcefully. "No one."
"Hey," he soothed. "You lot got me out, didn't you? I'm right here, aren't I? Or aren't I here? Who am I really?"
"Oh stop it," she pinched him. "You're here all right, just as surely as I'm here."
"But are you you?" he teased.
"Rose Marion Tyler," she reported in military fashion. "Torchwood Agent 8704213, London division." She grinned. "Yourself?"
"The Doctor," he saluted. "Ermmmm…unaffiliated?"
Rose laughed. "Good enough," she agreed. "Now," she continued, "any volunteers to rub some lotion over this impressive sunburn I've got on my back."
The Doctor waved his hand around in the air. "Oh me, me, me! Pick me!" The bedside table drawer popped open and the Doctor reached over to pull out a tube Rose's preferred moisturizer. "The TARDIS even approves!"
"Good enough for me then," she leaned over him and kissed him. "Thank you," she told him.
There was a bundle of things in there she was thanking him for. Thanking him for sharing what had happened with her, thanking him for dealing with her own experience.
"And thank you," he replied in kind. "Now," he pressed on. "I believe we have certain things we must attend to."
Rose's smile was all too cheeky as she reached behind her to undo her top. "Indeed we do," she agreed. "Plenty to do."