- The Doctor -
He opened his eyes. He was slightly confused for a moment to see that he was still sitting on the bathroom floor. Jack was sitting on the counter staring at him with a look of concern.
"Help me up," he whispered, lifting his arms up. Jack jumped down from where he sat, and firmly grasped the Doctor's hands. Jack didn't pull him up. Instead he let the Doctor push himself up. He kept an arm around the Doctor as together they walked back to the kitchen. As soon as they reached it he fell into the chair. He turned away from Jack and hid his face in his hands.
"What was her name?" the Doctor asked.
"Don't do this to yourself," Jack replied turning his attention back to the meal.
"I still hear her crying," he admitted quietly, his mouth pressed against his palms.
"What?"
"I still hear her crying," he repeated, his voice still muffled by his hands.
"Do you hear her now?" Jack wondered. The Doctor nodded. He heard Jack walk over and then Jack's hands on him. Jack gently began to massage his shoulders and down his back.
"Don't do this to yourself Doctor."
"Please, Jack. I need to know," he begged.
Jack sighed, "her name was Hannah."
"Have they found her?" he asked Jack.
"No," Jack responded. "Will they find her alive?"
"No," the Doctor whimpered. He began to shake as he fought of the tears threatening to stream down his face. Jack stopped massaging his back and sat down in a chair facing him. Jack pulled him over and held his head against his chest. The Doctor relaxed in to Jack as he began to gently rub his back.
"What happened?" Jack asked. He shook his head as the tears he had been fighting broke free. He clung tightly to Jack, needing to feel his warmth. He finally broke free when he heard Martha approaching the kitchen.
"Oh my god, look at you," Martha exclaimed happily as she entered the room.
- Martha Jones -
She left the TARDIS and met with Tish at a small cafe about two miles away. It was nice to be out but she couldn't help thinking about the Doctor. Her thoughts were still else where when she heard Tish say, "Martha."
"Oh right." She focused on Tish again. "Go on I'm listening."
Tish crossed her arms at her. "What were we talking about?"
"Dad?" She guessed.
"That was ten minutes ago," Tish exclaimed.
"Oh."
"Honestly Martha, the whole family is worried about you. We haven't seen you in months."
"I've been taking care of the Doctor. I have told everyone this countless times," Martha said exasperated.
"But couldn't someone else do it."
"No," she stated firmly. She wasn't going to leave the Doctor. "He has been through so much, and he has made so much progress lately. I'm not going to abandon him now. I know if it was reversed he wouldn't just abandon me."
Thankfully Tish had dropped it after that, and the rest of the afternoon was peaceful. As she pulled up in front of the TARDIS she was happy to be home. She sat in the car for a moment though, wondering when she had begun to think of it as home. She got out of the car and upon entering headed straight to the living area. Divine smells were coming from the kitchen. She entered the kitchen and was shocked to see the Doctor sitting there.
"Oh, my god. Look at you," she exclaimed happily as she saw his hair cut and that he had shaved. He was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but at least it was a start. She kissed his head.
"Are you okay?" He nodded and wiped the tears from his face as he smiled up at her.
"Did you have fun with Tish?" he asked her.
"Yes," she answered not elaborating. She then turned her attention to the dinner. "This looks delicious, did you make it?"
"Jack helped."
"He cooked and I just stirred.," Jack told her. He came over and kissed her on the cheek. "I should be going."
"Stay," she told him. "Looks like there is plenty for three."
"I couldn't."
"Sure you could," the Doctor replied giving Jack a look. Jack nodded and helped Martha dish up the food, and then joined them at the table. She started eating. She grew worried as she noticed that the Doctor was picking at his food even more then normal. She gave Jack a look.
He looked apologetic as he mouthed, "I'll tell you later." She nodded.
- The Doctor -
He was laying on his bed on top of the blankets, staring at the ceiling. They had finished eating, and then Martha insisted he lay down for awhile while her and Jack cleaned up. He was feeling too sick to fight it. Jack carried him to his room and laid him on the bed. That is where he remained, trying to block out her crying. His legs were aching but he ignored the pain. Martha came in after awhile and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Feeling better," she asked and he nodded. "Don't lie to me."
She took his hand. "Jack told me you were asking about Hannah. What happened to her?" He just shook his head. "Please Doctor tell me."
He rolled on his side so he wasn't facing her.
"She died," he said softly. "She died and it's all my fault."
"How is it your fault?" she asked him. Rather than answer her she watched his eyes close. She could tell by his breathing that he hadn't gone to sleep, but he continued to ignore her. She waited patently for him to open his eyes again, but after an hour she realized he wasn't going to. He left them closed until Martha left the room. Once she was gone, he rolled onto his back again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
- Martha Jones -
Her and Jack sat up late into the night talking. Realizing it was almost midnight, she convinced Jack just to stay the night. Saying good night, she checked on the Doctor before heading to bed. He was still laying on top of the blankets snoring softly. She went into the closet and pulled out an extra blanket. Careful not to wake him, she covered him up and then headed to her room.
It was around two am when she was awoken by her door opening. She saw the Doctor standing in the light of the hallway briefly before he shuffled in, and closed the door. Rather then coming to the bed like normal, he walked slowly to the chair in the room and sat down.
"Doctor," she said and sat up. "What's wrong?" She reached for the light and heard him say "Don't." and she lowered her hand and waited.
"I was put in the room on the bed and they brought her in." He said in a low voice so low she had to strain to hear him. "I didn't understand until they stripped her and tied her to the bed next to me. I tried to help her but I couldn't. They wanted me to..." He paused and she heard him gulp. "Anyway I refused. They took me out of the room and whipped me. When they came back later, I still refused so they whipped me again." He went quiet again. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she could see him sitting in the chair shaking violently. She waited for him to continue.
"They left us for a couple of days and I could hear her crying whenever she was awake. She was so scared Martha, and I couldn't help her. They returned and took me back to the room. I refused again so they grabbed me and held me in front of her. I was told to choose either I-I-I" another pause. "Or they would kill her. They pulled a knife out and put it to her throat. I agreed. I agreed. I didn't know if I could, I was so weak, but I agreed." He was crying now, she could hear his sobs. She started to move towards him but he held out his hand and she stopped.
"I saw the confusion in her eyes as they, they slit her th-th-throat. I don't know how long they left me in there until they returned." He went silent again. This time when she moved to hold him he didn't stop her.
"Do you hate me?" he asked silently.
"Never."
- The Doctor -
"They slit her th-th-throat," he told Martha and went silent. They had made him watch while she died in front of his eyes. He had agreed to do what they wanted and still they had killed her. He had only agreed to save her life. In the short time he had to think, he decided to try to give her a chance.
Mrs. X stroked his cheek again.
"You killed her," she said into his ear. "If you had just listened in the first place, she wouldn't have died. Her blood is on your hands." They dropped him on the floor and left him there. He didn't know how long, he didn't try to keep track.
When they came back, they chained and whipped him again, but he didn't care. He had given up. Over the next couple of days he grew weaker as he refused food and water. He was beat over and over again, but still he heard her crying in the next room.
"Do you hate me," he asked Martha as she came over and wrapped her arms around him. He expected her to leave him now that she knew the truth.
"Never," she replied, but he knew the truth. How could she possibly not hate him, when he hated himself?