Long Journey Home (3/?)

Title: Long Journey Home

Author: Gail R. Delaney

Series: The Unseen and In Between

Setting: Series 3 and 4 through “Journey’s End”. Each section will indicate which episode the particular scene revolves around either before – during – or after – as reference. This particular bit would be placed in the Doctor's Universe after 42 and before Human Nature/The Family of Blood.

Genre: Reunion/Fix-It Fic

Rating: PG-13 overall

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: More than once, the Doctor told Rose something was ‘impossible’, just to later prove himself wrong. She no longer believed in impossible because of him. Then he told her that she could never see him again – that the walls were closed forever. Yeah, well… he also said they couldn’t do something else, and she had to prove one theory wrong to show he was wrong on both.

A/N... Nope, I don't care for Martha Jones. At least not while she was traveling with the Doctor.



The Doctor’s Universe
He’s been to the moon and back… and then some.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Martha asked, the words muffled through her wide-mouthed yawn. “I mean, we’ve been to the moon, to New New York, old New York, London again… and I don’t think I’ve seen you so much as stumble.”

The Doctor only slid his gaze from the TARDIS console long enough to register Martha’s bleary eyes and the exhausted slump of her body as she sank onto the jump seat. “I don’t require much sleep.”

She laughed. “That’d come in handy doing a double shift.”

He managed a smile, but little else. Normally, the Doctor was not one who had difficulty dividing his attention between repairs on the TARDIS, holding a conversation, and working out some random or specific problem in his head. But, that usually came from motivation. He always enjoyed his conversations with Rose, and he liked it when she sat with him. But this was Martha, and while Martha Jones had proven herself to be intelligent enough, he also felt the subtle tension that existed between them. Even after a few short trips and what mattered to little more than a few days for her.

She probably thought he hadn’t noticed her reaction when he spoke of Rose. And her frustration at his disinterest in not sharing their bed for more than sleeping while staying at The Elephant Inn hadn’t escaped him. He’d chosen to ignore it, or more to fact, chosen to make it clear that their time together was short.

But 1599 London had led to New New York — which had proven to be more torture for him than the remembrance he had hoped for — and New New York to old New York, and the face-off with the only species in the Universe that could make his blood run colder.

Twice he’d demanded they kill him just to end their reign of terror. And twice, he’d actually been angry with them for not carrying through. He hadn’t demanded it of the Racnoss, but if it hadn’t been for Donna Noble’s words.

Doctor! You can stop now!

The Doctor had been at the edge of this slippery slope before, and it had been Rose that brought him back from it. Her companionship, her acceptance, and eventually her love. He would have to find the balance alone this time.

It was better that way. No one to be a failure to but himself.

“Doctor, are you even listening?”

Martha’s near-shout brought him back from his musings and he realized his hand had stilled over the temporal loop-back modulator. He finished the turn and drew a sharp breath in through is nostrils.

“Right, sorry. What was that, Martha?” he asked, finally raising his chin and looking at her fully.

“I said that you must have some place to sleep around here? You said you don’t need much, but that must mean you need </i>some.”

His thoughts immediately flashed to the bedroom just beyond the console room door, the room that the TARDIS had always kept close by for him. In the same hall was the kitchen and the lift that led to any part of the ship they wanted, and the bedroom that Rose had used when she first arrived. And after his regeneration until they’d found their way back to each other.

“You said this ship is bigger on the inside. S’gotta be more than just this room.”

“Of course it is. The TARDIS gives me everything I need.”

You need rest.

Her nudge was gentle but insistent, and he nodded his head. He did, he knew he did. He hadn’t slept since… well… he’d slept for a bit in the library after visiting with Susan. How long ago was that?

“What’s behind the big, foreboding door there.” She motioned over her shoulder with her thumb toward the steel double door that led to the hallway and the rest of the TARDIS.

He looked up, stared at the door, and drew in a deep breath. He’d only wandered into the hallway a few times… to eat, to change — always as quickly as possible so as to not be lost to the deafening silence and emptiness of their bedroom — and to catch some sleep on the couch in the library. But, that had been a long time ago… before Martha… and so much had happened since then.

The Doctor jumped when Martha slammed her hand down on the console beside him. “What?”

“Sometimes, I swear talking to you is like talking to a rock,” she snapped out, her dark eyes wide as she leaned on her hand. “I asked if you had a guest bedroom or something on this blasted ship.”

The TARDIS jerked and rumbled.

“Oh, hush.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fine, fine.” The Doctor moved around Martha and headed for the double doors, shoving them open with much more effort than should have been required. But the doors had appeared shortly after Martha’s arrival, and the Doctor suspected it was the TARDIS’s passive aggressive streak making itself apparent.

She didn’t like Martha at all.

As soon as the doors opened, the light sconces along the hallway walls lit one by one until the entire stretch of wainscot walls and Turkish carpet was lit from the console room to the balcony of the library’s second floor. The air was warm and fresh… just as the TARDIS always kept it for Rose… and a subtle scent of flowers hung in the air. Roses.

“Oh, my god…” Martha gasped, stepping past him into the hall. “This place is huge!”

“This is hardly all of it, Martha,” the Doctor said with a tone he knew was probably condescending, but he really was tired. “This is just where we… I… live. Here’s the kitchen.” He motioned through the wide arching doorway that let into the massive kitchen. It had grown so much since Rose came. Used to be a space big enough for making tea and dispensing those nasty nutrition bars he couldn’t bring himself to eat anymore. “Feel free to do what you like, the cupboards are always full. Tell the TARDIS what you want, and she might give it to you.”

“Tell? How? Some kind of computer or somethin’ like you see on Star Trek?”

The Doctor squinted his face and blew out through is lips. “No, Martha. Just tell her.” He didn’t bother explain any further. If she got hungry enough, she’d figure it out. “The end of the hall there is the library. Books from all over the universe. Feel free.”

“Where are the bedrooms, then?” she asked, taking steps toward the closest door. Their bedroom… Just as she reached it, the door slammed shut. Hard. Martha pulled her hand back and looked at him, looking shocked and slightly put out.

“That’s my bedroom,” he forced out. “Our bedroom. Mine and—“

“Rose’s. Yeah, got it,” Martha scowled. She headed down the hall to the next open door, and just as the first, the door slammed shut before she could enter. But not before the Doctor saw the flash of blonde hair and pink dress behind the door giving it the hard shove.

“You’re being miserable,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

Not hers. Forever Rose’s. She’ll come back. Won’t like things touched.

“She’s not…” The Doctor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Martha looked at him like he had grown two heads, but followed him to the end of the hall where another door stood open. It was as far away from his room as the TARDIS could manage without putting Martha in another part of the ship. The Doctor hadn’t told the TARDIS as much, but he knew she understood that her tricks and games could only go so far. He’d asked Martha to come with them, and as their guest, she was to be treated no worse than Vislor Turlough or Mickey Smith.

He pushed the door open for her, almost dreading what he would find inside. But no Vorakian goo dripped from the ceilings and the temperature wasn’t near freezing, so he stepped inside. She had done the least she could do without seeming like a complete cat. The room was decent sized with a simple bed draped in a brown coverlet and ample furniture to be comfortable. Another door opened to the bathroom, and the Doctor heard the slight creak and shift of walls as the TARDIS finished the job.

“Here you go,” the Doctor said, sweeping the room with his hand. “Home sweet home, for now at least.”

“Thank you.” Martha’s voice had softened, losing the snap and bit of moments before. “I’m really knackered. You gonna sleep now, too?”

“Probably. Don’t worry. We’re hovering in the Vortex, perfectly safe. Sleep as long as you like. Mornings are relative here.”

He walked behind her to leave, but Martha turned, touching his arm. “Doctor, hang on.”

He bit his tongue, feeling the weight of fatigue dragging at him now that he finally acknowledged it. And when he got tired, he got cranky. Since he’d given up the habit of catching an hour or so each night just to sleep beside Rose, he hadn’t exactly made sure to catch his rest. Instead, he just turned back and waited for her to say whatever she needed to say.

“Doctor, I’m confused. One minute you’re all laughs and smiles, hugging me because we’re alive, and the next you act like I’m your great aunt Bertha who’s over stayed her welcome. Do you want me here, or not?”

No, he didn’t want her there. He didn’t want anyone there. But, he knew he couldn’t do that… couldn’t be alone again. Donna Noble had pegged him. He needed someone to stop him… or someone he had to stop for… someone he couldn’t drag down with him.

“I wouldn’t have said okay if I didn’t.” It softened the lie, at least.