Chapter 3

November 26th, 1913

Five weeks had passed now and the weather was growing colder on their backs. The first snow had fallen in the past week and coated the ground in a sea of white, a break for the boys to play like children, not soldiers in training. There was fear on the horizon, fear of war and death, rumours of the end of days. And while everyone scrambled for some form of happiness and routine, Martha clung to an end date.

April 21st, the day she could finally open the watch again and they could run back to the TARDIS, where he could apologise for placing her in a situation like this and she would forgive him after a while, and then everything would be normal once again. Though she wasn't sure how normal it was to begin with.

She had managed to make a friend or two in her time here, a fellow handmaid named Jenny from Cork who was working to support her sick mother miles away. She dreamed of having enough to visit her one last time instead of just sending checks once a month for her treatments. Martha promised herself once this was all over they would take her, free of charge. It would be the least the Doctor owed her.

The dreams had only grown stronger in the passing days, particularly the dreams of his blonde. Martha imagined that somewhere inside, it was a sign that his grief hadn't passed. That in many ways, he was still mourning Rose Tyler, human or not. She had seen snippets of the journal he kept of his dreams, noticing the tortured sketches of the woman he had lost repeated every other page. It was beginning to concern her that Rose would somehow unleash the Doctor early, cause him to remember his life before.

But she had other things to focus on, keeping him safe along with all the people in this school. It had become her job, something she wasn't used to. Especially in uniform, she didn't feel like much of a protector of anyone. Surely no one else thought so, certainly none of the snot nosed boys she was forced to clean up after day by day.

The Christmas season was approaching and preparations were already in full swing. She had begun to decorate the halls of the school for the holidays along with coordinating the clean up for when the boys had gone home for the break. She never could imagine how faces so young would soon be spread across the battlefield with rifles in their hands and fight in their hearts.

As she scrubbed the floor at the base of the grand staircases she failed to notice the head nurse approaching her from behind in a frantic manner.

"Martha, you said you had some medical training yourself, yes?" The words shocked her, not expecting anyone to acknowledge her skills in this time period. She stood up swiftly and faced the Matron Joan as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Yes, yes I do ma'am." She responded and the older woman nodded,

"Good. We need your help. Ms. Carlisle discovered a girl out in the road, beaten and bloodied badly. She is quite erratic and we need some assistance in calming her down." At this Martha forgot all about her situation, becoming the doctor she had trained to be for years.

"Of course, lead the way." The two women hurried through the school in the early hours of the morning towards the medical wing where Martha could make out faint screaming as they approached. The screams were gut wrenching, filled with dread and pain beyond her imagination. She prepared herself for the sight when they turned the corner but gasped all the same. Frozen in place. Her head spun in a million directions, being pulled and pushed like in the rough of a wave.

In front of her was a naked woman covered only in a thin sheet that had been painted with red. Her hair was matted and almost ginger from the dried blood but she could tell underneath there was a light shade of blonde, almost unnaturally so. Her body was frail and bruises littered almost every inch of her. She fought against the four nurses attempting to clean her, thrashing violently and sobbing like an animal into her shoulder, slumping over every now and again from exhaustion.

But this wasn't what stopped Martha in her tracks, it wasn't what caused the breath to leave her body and for her to be locked in place like a statue. But in the brief moment the woman's face was visible, she recognised her immediately.

How could she be here?

How could she be alive?

Martha's head raced so quickly she had no thoughts at all, just a name repeating over and over in her mind.

It was Rose.