A stirring within the Doctor had drawn him to accept the mysterious and familiar girl's proposal to stay the night. The feeling of having the last vivid memories of his home just hanging downstairs made his raging emotions of self hate and sorrow was soothed; the memories of Gallifrey never dying and always living forever among those canvases. The gallery becoming the rust colored planet, the brown lakes filled with the songs of the fish which called it home and the crimson velvet flowers which spread like a fire across the plains. He sighed, following closely beside Martha as Mair led them down a hall towards the supposed 'guest room'. Martha had seemed at war with the whole thing; wanting to get him alone to ask a mountain of questions about this girl. He groaned mentally, not wanting to discuss who she was, or who he believed she might be. He didn't want to believe that she was here, that this whole thing was a horrible nightmare and in the morning he would wake up to the low lull of the TARDIS.
"Sorry there's only one bed, but here it is." Mair pushed open the door, not daring to take a step through the threshold of the door.
Martha thanked her, explaining that it was fine and they had done it once before. The Doctor walked past the two, seemingly ignoring everything they were talking about. He never really bothered when Martha tried to explain their past adventures without giving out too much information, in his mind correcting her every other word. The room was small, the bed taking up most of the space. It was a queen, the sheets being a crimson color with black accents. The only other furniture was a dark cherry wood wardrobe and matching dresser on the opposite side of the wardrobe; a standing white and black lap in the corner. It was the sloped ceiling that drew Martha from her human conversation as she finally gasped at the room. The Doctor shrugged, having spent some of his day within the rooms of royalty.
"I'm right across the hall. If you need anything, just call." The Doctor turned towards her, his dark eyes matching her pale blue eyes in a moments haze.
He felt a shock and a shiver ran down his spine. He blinked and she was gone. He knew that shiver, that shock that sent chills through his skin. A large smile parted against his lips and he felt a lost feeling overflow him. She had just done it, she had reached out. Her mind and his, against separate sides of the same wall, shouting for the other and such a connection he had hungered from another being for centuries. That small lapse of memory, she had felt it too; she must have. Though she hid it just as well as he had, Martha having no idea he had just felt a spring of joy wash over his Time Lord mind. She sank into the side of the bed, looking up at him for a moment.
"Who is she Doctor, really?" Her dark eyes shot at him as if telling him he couldn't hide it any more.
He sighed, taking a spot next to the Londoner. Gathering his thoughts, he leaned on his knees, his hands running through his dark brown hair. He was logically trying to simplify his thoughts, knowing that if he just emptied his mind to her, she wouldn't understand a word he said. He hadn't been able to truly clear his mind of anything, all that information just stored within the back of his mind forever locked away. He hadn't really thought about it, having his mind so cluttered and then having a way to clear such a mess made him tired and giddy all together. He looked up at her, his eyes showing such a glee that Martha had never seen within him before, something which made her heart ache. It was the same light that always sparkled when he talked about Rose and with that she growled to herself.
"I think, that she's like me." He paused gathering a clearer vision of who she must be. "She was called the Ghost on Gallifrey, like how I'm the Doctor."
She scoffed commenting on her appearance which stung his hearts. "She's always been like that. Every regeneration was always paler than normal." He laid back within the plush mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "She was something like a legend in my time, but it couldn't be her." He rubbed his eyes in a groan.
He had already anticipated Martha's question as to why it couldn't be. He wanted to tell her flat out, that he had watch that pale Time Lady, that wonderful and wild Gallifreyan die on the Crucible; the mother ship of the Daleks. She had been shot, her regeneration not given the time needed to fully heal and change her and again shot once more, her body rejecting to regenerate. He had cried out to her, to her lifeless corpse and at the monsters that ended such a woman's life so early in her time. He sighed heavily, trying to remove such images from her mind. Martha leaned back, tilting her head towards him. She gave him a look, which her own words could not fully express. It was a look of comfort, of warmth which made the Doctor understand that she wasn't going to pry. Heaving a heavy sigh, he continued.
"She was sort of a legend among my generation. When she looked within the time vortex at the academy, she ran, like most sane Time Ladies and Lords. She ran, and ran and ran, and even into her older years she continuing running." He smiled lightly remembering the tales he had heard around the court about her shenanigans and mischief, always growing fonder of her by the minute. "She didn't live within the Capitol, like me she lived outside among the mountains."
"Sounds like you fancied her Doctor." Doctor ignored the hints of jealousy in her voice.
"Who didn't? She was wild and against the president. She believed that all of time and space didn't belong to the hands of one race; that such abilities should be forgotten and left to rot. She was something of a protester to you humans." He laughed remembering the many stories he had been told, most of his friends having been the victim of her protests.
"What would she do?" Martha rolled onto her stomach, gathering her hands close to her chest as a playful smile tugged at her lips.
"She would steal the TARDIS's of others, leaving them within different galaxies and planets; using a time vortex manipulator as her means of travel. She hid away from people, supposedly the last of her family." He sighed rolling on his side, his head supported by his hand. "You would never see her, she would pop out of the vortex and that was the last you would see of your TARDIS." He laughed.
"She sounds wild, but if no one ever saw her, how did you know about her pale appearance?" He had known she'd ask. His throat went dry.
"Before the war, she had been caught, revealed to all of Gallifrey. She was hated, feared and infamous among the people. I was one of her guards along with the nine other Time Lords who watched her at one time." Martha's brow rose as she heard of such heavy protection of one girl. "When the war came," he took a long pause his expression hardening as he relived the moments within the battle, "they made her apply as a soldier; one of the few women who was accepted."
He let the words soak between the two of them, as if he was reading them from a textbook. He remembered how they had taken her, her appearance being far from what she was now, dragging her from the large prison where she had lived for half a century. How she had been given a military grade TT Capsule, Rassilon, when was the last time he had called it that? He shook his head, Martha already set on sleeping on the other side of the bed, leaving an empty place for him.
"What happened?" Martha barely whispered, hesitantly wondering if he would tell her.
He sank into the bed beside her, not bothering with the covers. Laying his head back within the soft down feathered pillow, his memory began to flash in front of him as he watched the fight he had lost her in. "She died. Shot down by Dalek within the Crucible. She didn't have time to regenerate."
Martha's expression fell and with it so did her curiosity. She snuggled deep within the crimson blankets, letting her heavy eye lids close slowly, her tired expression damaged by such a haunting ending. The Doctor watched as she fell asleep, his own sleep far from desired. He turned, rolling on his back as he continued to relive that hollow moment when he say the life leave his hearts with hers.
The shaking TT Capsule jolting around as the two Gallfreyans darted around the console, holding onto anything they could and everything they could. Their hands moving faster than they could even register, pushing buttons, pulling levers and changing the controls which moved the machine through the damaged vortex. Her pale white hair covered with the wake of stars and time. Her nearly colorless lavender eyes shimmering with the destruction of planets and history as she continued to shout instructions at her older counterpart, telling him to pull this and to hold that as they flew the military machine together. The young warrior had been told to watch her, to keep her from running and with that he had become mesmerized by her features. Her nearly faded appearance engulfing him around her, his attention barely being able to draw away from her.
Though she was of normal appearance, her high cheekbones and sleek, bridgeless nose and slim jaw line having nearly no beauty to another man; yet all he wanted was to keep her with him. He found her intriguing, beautiful and so strange. He would lose his mind within her, driving him mad with an ache in his hearts. She shouted again, pointing towards a small cluster of blue buttons, yelling for him to press them backwards and diagonally. He followed her instruction, watching as she pulled down a large handle lever and then rushed down towards the doors.
It was his turn to yell.
He shouted in a strange language for her to stop, to not go out there. She had vanished behind the doors, his body flooding with a desire to protect her, to keep her safe. He pulled the monitor around towards him, his eyes scanning every detail on the screen. His eyes widened and he dashed after her, weaponless into the fire of war. The hall was empty, letting him silently getting closer towards the shouts and EXTERMINATE's which flooded his ear drums. He felt the heat of battle and the fear soak his being, sweat brimming his brow. They had entered the Crucible.
He spotted her. Her hands tangled with the weapons of a Time Lord in hand as she shot down the machines. He watched as one after one, she left nothing but destruction in her wake; the now hollow containers of the Daleks left to clutter the floor. He watched, admiration and affection in his smile, her powers proving her most formidable. He wanted to rise to his feet, applauding her like an actress on stage; to give her the recognition she deserved. His chest tightened, the sight suddenly shattering his whole being. Behind her, hidden by the shadows of the hollowed corpses of its copies, the Dalek took aim at the warrior. Taking aim, the Doctor shouted, his words falling on deaf ears as the green laser shot once.
She was brought down, the beam burning at her chest. She stood there, the Doctor frozen as she collapsed to her knees. He couldn't see her, couldn't see her face as she looked up from her wound, the Dalek taking another shot. Her head flew back, her locks of hair flying out as the stars fell from her being, going out like lights. She had fallen; The Ghost of Gallifrey was gone.