May 2018: re-edited since its original posting.
Chapter 6 - Goodbye Old Friend
Rose stepped out into the sunlight atop the Senate's landing platform, having said her goodbyes to Valerie, Brannigan and the kittens. She caught sight of Martha as her friend disembarked from a car on the far side, and they met in a relieved hug at the Senate entrance.
"Come on then," Rose told her, shifting the Doctor's coat over her arm, and leading the way into the building.
As they walked into the darkened structure, Rose's relief faded quickly into caution. Especially when she spotted the first skeleton. "Doctor?" she called out, hesitantly.
"Over here," came his voice from across the room.
She and Martha perked back up, running over to meet him. Rose slowed to a walk, when she found him kneeling beside the Face of Boe, the shattered remnants of his tank surrounding them. "Oh, no," she breathed.
"What's that?" asked Martha.
"It's the Face of Boe," Rose said, walking slowly up to him.
The Doctor smiled at her, then turned back to Martha. "It's all right. Come and say hello. And this is Hame," he said, gesturing at the nurse. "She's a cat; don't worry."
Rose gently put her hand on one of the Face of Boe's tendrils.
"He's the one that saved you," explained the Doctor. "Not me."
"My lord gave his life to save the city," said Novice Hame. Martha knelt next to her. "And now he's dying."
"No, don't say that," said the Doctor. "Not old Boe. Plenty of life left."
"It's good to breathe the air once more," the Face of Boe said.
"Who is he?" asked Martha, quietly.
"I don't even know," said the Doctor. "Legend says the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years. Isn't that right?" he asked him. "And you're not about to give up, now."
"Everything has its time," he replied. "You know that, old friend, better than most."
Rose shuddered, remembering several times the Doctor and even she had said words to that effect.
"The legend says more," Novice Hame interjected.
"Don't," said the Doctor. "There's no need for that," he deflected, although Rose's curiosity was certainly piqued.
Novice Hame persisted. "It says that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveler."
Rose looked to the Doctor, but he brushed Novice Hame's words off. "Yeah, but not yet. Who needs secrets, eh?"
"I have seen so much," said the Face of Boe. "Perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind - as you are the last of yours, Doctor."
Rose saw Martha look up at the Doctor at that. Rose dropped the Doctor's coat behind her, shifting closer to him.
"That's why we have to survive," the Doctor said, emotion obvious in his voice. "Both of us. Don't go," he pleaded.
"I must," he replied, heavily. "But know this, Time Lord: you are not alone."
Rose was taken aback by that. She glanced at the Doctor and saw the shock evident in his face, as well.
The Face of Boe let out a last, long breath, and closed his eyes, and Rose heard Novice Hame's quiet sobs.
They were all still for a long moment, until Martha slowly got to her feet. Rose took the Doctor's hand, and could tell he was even more deeply wrapped in thought than she was. As they stood, she wondered what the Face of Boe could have meant. He couldn't mean her and Martha - they were right there with him. That was no secret. He'd said that he and the Doctor were the last of their kinds - but that the Doctor was not alone.
As confused as she thought she'd ever been, Rose walked with the Doctor, following Martha out of the building.
They managed to hitchhike their way back to Pharmacy Town, having sent the first five cars on their way when the drivers were unwilling to venture back into the under-city just yet.
The Doctor looked around at the deserted street, not a mood vendor in sight. "All closed down," he observed.
"Happy?" asked Martha, with a knowing smile.
"Happy happy," he answered. Rose laughed at his side. He took just a moment to soak in that sound, pushing his swirling thoughts from earlier to the back of his mind. "New New York can start again," he told them. "And they've got Novice Hame," he said, with a gentle tug on Rose's hand. "Just what every city needs - cats in charge!" he told her with a wink.
She scoffed. "Just hope it works out better than last time."
"But," Martha began hesitantly, "what did he mean, the Face of Boe?" The Doctor looked over at her. "'You're not alone'," she repeated.
"I don't know," he told her, honestly.
"You've got Rose?" she asked. "An' friends, like me? Is that what he meant?"
"That's no secret," Rose observed.
The Doctor shook his head, as Rose wrapped her arm around his. "That'd be nice, but I don't think so. Sorry."
"Then what?" Martha persisted.
The TARDIS was in sight. "Doesn't matter," he said. He hated prophecies. "Back to the TARDIS, off we go."
But Martha wasn't letting the matter drop. Even as they continued down the street, she asked, "He said 'last of your kind'. What does that mean?"
"Just that," Rose told her. "The war, the one that destroyed his planet? All of his people are gone, too."
Martha stopped walking, and the Doctor and Rose paused as well. He could see Martha taking it in, trying to say something, but unable. He made it easy for her, clarifying what Rose had said.
"I'm not just a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords." As he said the words, the familiar, bitter, desperate feeling resurfaced, destroying the small glimmers of hope The Face of Boe's words had begun to stir. "The Face of Boe was wrong," he said, half to himself. "There's no one else." He turned, and walked up to the TARDIS, unlocking the doors.
He followed Rose in, watching her take a seat in the captain's chair, while the Doctor moved around the console, losing himself in the familiarity of the controls.
Martha finally entered, closing the doors behind her. "I'm sorry," she said. Then, "How? I - never mind."
He looked up at her, then dropped his gaze back to the console. She was curious, it was to be expected. He moved almost without thinking as he put the TARDIS into the vortex. He glanced at Rose, then back at Martha who'd moved nearer the console.
He'd told Rose - in detail. And it wasn't like Martha was a stranger. Alright, so they'd been traveling for only a few days, but she'd proven herself already, from their first adventure in the hospital. It was a simple question, however involved the answer.
"It was the last Great Time War," he said, and both girls looked up at him, evidently shocked to hear him speak. "My people fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation. And they lost."
He took a breath. "Everyone lost. They're all gone now. My family, my friends, even the burnt-orange sky." He looked up at the time rotor, his thoughts drifting back. He remembered that sky, and for a moment, allowed himself to revel in the memories he'd always taken for granted.
"The Citadel was enclosed in a mighty glass dome," he recounted, "shining under the twin suns. Beyond that, the mountains go on forever - slopes of deep red grass, capped with snow. The second sun would rise in the south, and the mountains would shine. The leaves on the trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest on fire. When the autumn came, the breeze would blow through the branches like a song..."
Rose watched him in awe as he spoke. It wasn't new to her, his description of Gallifrey, but the way he was saying it - it took her breath away. It was like poetry.
The last time he'd talked about it this openly, they'd been on that planet with the flying stingrays. Well, maybe he wasn't being quite as open as he'd been then. Now, he was just talking about the planet; then, he'd told her all about the family he'd left behind, the friends and even the enemies he'd lost.
But this time, there were no tears, no obvious guilt. He was remembering, and he was actually allowing himself to enjoy the memory.
Unbidden, the memory of her first Doctor, faced with a Dalek, came to mind. She remembered, clear as day, the desperation, guilt, and anger in his face. In that moment, she hadn't known if he'd ever be able to let go. But here he was, for the moment, at least, allowing himself to enjoy.
To be continued...