Ten Days, Ten Doctors
Title: Ten Days, Ten Doctors
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, the Ten Doctors
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Classic and New Who
Summary: Over the course of ten days, Martha meets all ten Doctors.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: After I wrote The Long Scarf for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game, I was asked by seularen to write Martha/Five and I said I'd give it a go - but then I thought, why stop there? Why not write Martha meeting all ten Doctors, starting with the Fifth (since I was asked for that) and finishing with the Tenth? So here they are…
This fic is for padawanpooh my fabulous Beta, who gave me several good suggestions and made this fic much better than it would otherwise have been.
~~~~~~
Day One: 6.30 am
Martha was about to cross the road after finishing an all-night shift in A&E when she heard the sound of the TARDIS materialising. Glancing across the road, she saw the familiar blue box shimmer into existence, and heedless of life or limb, raced through four lanes of traffic to the entrance of the alley. Breathless she leant against the doors, before fishing out her TARDIS key and letting herself in.
She pushed open the door and stepped inside, but stopped on the threshold staring in shock at the sight that met her eyes. Instead of the usual green-gold glow, with coral-like arches and trailing wires that she knew and loved, the room was stark white with big roundels on the walls and the Time Rotor was pink, which made her blink a few times.
"Doctor?" called Martha, as she wondered what had happened to have caused the TARDIS' Control Room to look so sterile and inhospitable.
A figure came through a door on the other side of the room and she found herself staring at a slim blond man in a cricket jumper, striped trousers, a white shirt and a long coat with what appeared to be a stick of celery on the lapel.
"Who are you?" she blurted.
"Rather more importantly who are you and what are you doing in my TARDIS?" demanded the figure huffily.
"Martha, Doctor Martha Jones. Are you the Doctor?"
"How did you know that?" asked the Doctor.
"Well the only person I know who owns an old blue Police Box is called the Doctor."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "You must be one of my future self's Companions, then," he observed, coming closer and looking her up and down thoughtfully.
"Which Doctor are you?" asked Martha curiously.
"This is my fifth body," he answered. "Which one are you travelling with?"
"I'm not," she answered. "And I'm not sure which one he is - he's never told me."
"But you have a TARDIS key?," said the Doctor, surprised.
She nodded. "I'm taking a break from travelling with him - something we had to deal with - I can't tell you, can I?" she asked worriedly, interrupting herself suddenly.
He shook his head. "Best if you don't," he said. "Come and have a cup of tea, whilst you're here."
"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" she asked.
"Positive," he said, offering her his elbow, which reminded her strongly of her Doctor.
* * * * * *
Day Two: 6.30 am
As Martha left the hospital after her second night shift, she concluded that she was likely to end up old before her time if she had to do this for too long - and working in A&E was the worst, especially at 1 am. She stood waiting to cross the road, rolling her neck and shoulders as she tried to ease some of the kinks from her muscles. Then she stopped and stared in disbelief as the TARDIS materialised in the same alley as the day before. She crossed the road with slightly more care than the previous morning, although still at speed, and pulled out her TARDIS key as she reached the ship. She was a little less hasty going through the doors this time, and when she saw that the Control Room wasn't the one she was familiar with, she didn't panic. It looked similar to the one she'd seen the day before, but the figure who popped his head up from beneath the console was completely different.
"Doctor?" she asked the short, mop-topped figure in a black coat. He looks like a Beatle, she thought in amusement.
He raised an eyebrow at her in a very familiar gesture. "Why yes, but who are you?"
"Doctor Martha Jones, Companion to the Doctor," she answered.
"Really?" He looked at her curiously. "Do you play the recorder?"
Martha looked at him blankly. "What?"
"Do you play the recorder?" he repeated, pulling one from his shabby coat pocket.
"Um no." She wondered if this really was the Doctor, or if it was one of his Companions.
"Pity. I find it helps me to think." He smiled suddenly and Martha couldn't help smiling back. "So, young lady, which of my incarnations are you travelling with?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't said - he doesn't talk much about himself." She felt slightly guilty when she said that, remembering that on the few occasions her Doctor had talked of himself, it had been with sadness for his lost people. She knew she couldn't mention that to this Doctor though.
"So where did your Doctor leave you?" he asked genially.
"Well he didn't exactly leave me anywhere. I'm not travelling with him at the moment."
"Yet you let yourself in here, presumably expecting to find me, well the later me?" She nodded. "Come and have a cup of tea and tell me what you can of why you left him," he said, offering her his arm.
* * * * * *
Day Three: 6.30 am
As Martha left the A&E department, she reflected that the last two days had been exhausting but also interesting. Both the Doctors she had met had been friendly and courteous, and the Fifth had been surprisingly informative. Talking with them at length over cups of tea might have made her later than she'd have liked in getting home to bed after her all-night shifts, but she felt it had been worth it from the point of view of understanding her Doctor.
The Second Doctor (he'd eventually admitted which incarnation he was) had been rather more evasive than the Fifth, but even that had been informative in a way - her Doctor was evasive often enough, but she'd learnt to read between the lines.
Her two encounters with his previous selves put the Doctor she knew in a different light, and made him seem a bit more real and three-dimensional again. During the past five and a half months of doing her medical and surgical training, and studying to become a psychiatrist, she had sometimes found herself recalling her travels with the Doctor as if they were nothing but a bright fever dream - especially in the small hours when she couldn't sleep. On days like those it took the sight of her parents together again with no sign of Annalise, or the sight of Tish's guarded look, to remind her that it had actually happened.
Martha was half way across the road when the TARDIS materialised at the entrance to the alley opposite, the exact same spot in which it appeared at this exact time the last two mornings. She wondered if someone was trying to tell her something or if the Universe was playing some kind of joke on her. It was, she decided, like an inverted Groundhog Day.
Unlocking the door, Martha let herself in, noting that the console had changed slightly, but the Control Room still looked white and sterile, and she wondered at what point the coral-look had appeared. As she shut the door behind her, Martha caught a glimpse of blurred movement beside her and instinctively ducked just as two hands tried to grasp her throat. She backed away from the man in the multi-coloured coat, noting curly blond hair, a cat-pin on the jacket lapel and question marks on the shirt collar as she dodged out of reach.
"Doctor?" she asked breathlessly, wondering if he greeted everyone with an attempt to throttle them.
"Get out!" he said forcefully. "Go on, get out! What do you think you're doing, breaking into my TARDIS?"
"I didn't break in!" Martha exclaimed indignantly, "I've got a key."
"A key? I didn't give you a key, so you must have stolen it. Out! Out! OUT!"
Martha dodged away from him again and grabbed the door, deciding that discretion really was the better part of valour on occasion.
* * * * * *
Day Four: 6.30 am
After her encounter the previous morning, Martha had gone home for a cup of tea and a shower. As she shampooed her hair, she mulled over her run in with the Doctor and wondered which one she'd encountered. What had made him so inclined to attack strangers? As she got into bed she wondered if she dared to ask her Doctor about the incarnation in the Joseph coat.
Martha had already crossed the road when she saw the TARDIS materialise with a sense of inevitability. Whatever was going on, it was clear that someone somewhere had a rather perverse sense of humour. She pulled out her TARDIS key and opened the door, peering cautiously inside in case of murderous aliens, but she forgot her caution when she saw the Control Room. It was brown, with a small raised dais in the middle on which stood the console. She'd never seen the console look so old-fashioned: it looked like something out of a Jules Verne novel and she found it oddly disconcerting. Her attention was drawn from the console a moment later by the figure who came through the far door; the first thing she noticed was the immensely long gaudy knitted scarf that was wrapped several times around his neck; the second thing was his curly hair and staring eyes; the third thing was his smile, which was wide and welcoming.
"Hello! Who are you?" he asked cheerfully, apparently unfazed by the appearance of a strange young woman in his TARDIS.
"Martha, Doctor Martha Jones," she answered, smiling automatically as he strode over to shake hands.
"How do you do, Doctor Martha Jones?"
"Hello. Which incarnation are you?"
"The fourth. Which me are you travelling with?"
"I'm not travelling with him, you," Martha scowled a moment over the pronouns, "at the moment. But you're the fourth incarnation I've seen in the last four days, always at this time and on this spot. Do you know what's going on?"
He moved over to the console and began flicking switches and fiddling about, then looked thoughtfully at the screen. "It seems to be some kind of temporal anomaly. When and where are we?"
"London, 2009," she answered.
"Hmm. I can't think of anything particularly significant that happens now - but Time isn't fixed, as I'm sure you know."
"It's like a big ball of string - but in the case of Time, it's a ball of 'wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff'," Martha answered.
He frowned. " 'Timey-wimey'?" he asked.
"Something you said once," she said.
"Hmm. Well anyway, as you observe, Time's not linear, so something may have changed that I'm not yet aware of." He smiled suddenly. "Why don't you come and have a cup of tea and we'll talk about it?"
She smiled. "Do you always drink tea?" she asked curiously.
"Yes. Why?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Two of your other incarnations also offered me tea and conversation."
"What did the third offer you?" asked the Doctor.
"Nothing - he tried to throttle me actually. Bloke in a rainbow coat with a cat-pin on the lapel."
"I don't recognise the description," he said. "Sorry. So tea? And I think I may have some biscuits as well."
Martha smiled. "Tea and biscuits sounds good," she agreed.
* * * * * *
Day Five: 6.30 am
The TARDIS materialised promptly on the dot of 6.30 am and once again Martha let herself in, slipping her key back inside the neck of her shirt. She looked up and stared open-mouthed. "Wow!" she said softly, awed by the sight of the Control Room looking like a fabulous Gothic Cathedral and in such contrast to the Fourth Doctor's.
"I'm glad you like it," said a quiet voice nearby and she turned to see a man with long curly hair and brown eyes watching her. He was wearing a dark velvet coat, with a brown patterned waistcoat, a white shirt, a brown necktie and beige trousers. She snapped her mouth shut abruptly, feeling a blush steal over her face. "Who, my lady, are you?"
She found her voice. "Martha, Doctor Martha Jones," she answered, shaking the hand he offered, then blushing still more when he carried her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"Delighted," he said. "I'm the Doctor, but I think you already knew that since you let yourself in here?" She nodded. "May I see your key?"
"Oh, of course." She pulled it back out, trying not to feel flustered, and he stepped closer before she could lift the chain from around her neck.
He took hold of the key and peered at it. "Interesting. This is a totally different sort of key to mine." He pulled his key from his trouser pocket and showed it to Martha. "I think the TARDIS must have decided to temporarily change the lock so you could get in." He pocketed his key, then dropped Martha's key back inside her clothes and she tried very hard not to shiver at his closeness. "So then, Doctor Jones, why are you here?"
She forced her unruly thoughts into order. "The TARDIS has materialised on this spot at this time every day for five days now. The first morning I expected it to be the Doctor I travelled with, but it's been a different incarnation every day."
"Hmm, interesting. Come and have some tea and tell me about it." He offered his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her through the wood-panelled corridors to the kitchen. "Take a seat," he said, before turning to make tea.
Martha sat down, still feeling slightly dazed by this incarnation. She'd thought her Doctor was good-looking, however this one wasn't just dashing but thoroughly charming as well.
She tried not to think about kissing him.
"Here you are." He set a cup and saucer down in front of her.
"Thank you."
"So which of my other selves have you met?"
"The fifth, the second, the fourth, and um, not sure about the other one as he tried to throttle me."
"Oh that sounds unpleasant! What did he look like?"
"I only got a brief glimpse: curly blond hair, a rainbow coat and a cat-pin on his lapel."
He winced. "Sorry about that. My sixth incarnation was a rather troubled one." He rubbed at his top lip thoughtfully. "When you've finished your tea, why don't we go for a walk in the Arboretum and you can tell me more about meeting my earlier selves?"
"I'd like that," Martha answered, with a smile.
"What time did the TARDIS arrive here?"
"Six thirty am," she answered, wondering why he asked.
"Then I will make sure to take the TARDIS back to that time after we finish talking, so that you don't lose any sleep." She looked at him, startled, and he smiled. "You said you're a Doctor, and in my experience they keep odd hours. I guessed you were on your way to or from work when the TARDIS materialised, but it seemed most likely that you were going home."
"I was. Thank you," she said fervently, glad to know she could talk to him for as long as she wanted, yet still get several hours sleep once she got home.
"You're very welcome Martha."
* * * * * *
Day Six: 6.30 am
Martha had spent hours talking to the Eighth Doctor; he'd told her a good deal about his various incarnations, including the ones she hadn't yet met. When they'd finished talking and he'd been preparing to take the TARDIS back to a few minutes after they'd met, she'd suddenly decided to ask him to take her with him.
"I don't think that would be a good idea, at the moment, do you?" he asked gently. "I think you need to work through whatever's going on with these meetings with my previous selves, then talk to your Doctor again. This is happening for a reason and I think it's important that events play out to that meeting between you and my future self."
She nodded, eyes downcast, trying to push aside the feeling of disappointment she felt at his refusal. "Oh Martha, Martha, Martha," he said, pulling her into a hug. "Don't give up on me just yet. You're a very special person and I'm positive my future self needs you, more perhaps than either of you realise." He lifted her chin to look her in the eyes. "If I can, I will come back for you at a later date. That's a promise. If I can't manage that, remember this time we've had together and remind me of it when you meet my future self again. Please?" She nodded again and he smiled at her, then kissed her firmly on the mouth. "Take care of yourself for my sake." He turned away and set the co-ordinates, and a few moments later he ushered her out of the door, watching her until she was out of sight.
She was trying not to remember that kiss as the TARDIS materialised yet again the following day and she let herself in. To her disappointment the Control Room was again the stark white version she'd seen before, although she supposed it was just as well it wasn't the Gothic Cathedral again or she might have got her hopes up that the Eighth Doctor had changed his mind and returned for her.
"Now this is an unusual happenstance," said a voice, and Martha turned to see a white-haired man watching her from the opposite side of the Control Room. He was leaning on a stick and looked older than any of the other incarnations she'd seen. "Who are you, young woman, and what are you doing in my TARDIS?"
"I'm Doctor Martha Jones, a Companion to one of your future selves," Martha answered. "Over the last five days I have met five of you. It's my belief that someone or something has been arranging these meetings for me to help your future self."
He raised an eyebrow at her, still looking rather imperiously at her. "What is the basis of your belief?"
"Your fourth incarnation thought there was a temporal anomaly at work, and your eighth was certain that the meetings were meant to help me to know you better, so that I can help the incarnation with whom I travelled for a time."
"Very well." He beckoned her forward. "Lend me your arm, we will take tea and talk."
"Thank you." She moved forward and offered him her arm, and was rewarded with a smile that immediately made him look far less stern.
* * * * * *
Day Seven: 6.30 am
Martha had been startled to learn that the First Doctor's first Companion had been his granddaughter - she hadn't known he'd been a father, let alone a grandfather. When the First Doctor had told her that Susan had remained on Earth during the middle of the twentieth century, she found herself wondering whether Susan had survived the Time War, and if her Doctor had looked for her. She knew, however, that she would never dare to ask him that question.
She was yawning this morning as the TARDIS materialised, but she knew she only had three more night shifts to go before she got some time off. She wondered how many more mornings she would stand here and watch the familiar blue Police box appear out of thin air before she saw her Doctor and wished she'd thought to ask him which incarnation he was, so that now she would know how many more of these visits to expect.
She let herself into the TARDIS and found the by-now familiar white Control Room, although the Time Rotor wasn't pink. The short dark man standing by the console turned as she shut the door behind her and she saw he was wearing a shirt and tie, a jumper covered in question marks, a light coloured jacket and checked trousers. He had a paisley scarf under the lapels of his jacket she noted as he raised one eyebrow at her.
"Hello Doctor. I'm Doctor Martha Jones, one of your Companions."
"Not a Companion I've met yet," he said. "So you must be travelling with one of my future selves." She nodded. "A Doctor - which branch do you specialise in?"
"I'm training in psychiatry." Martha shook the hand he offered her.
"Interesting choice. Why are you here?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "The TARDIS keeps bringing different incarnations of you to this spot, and some of your other selves have suggested that she is trying to help me to help your future self with whom I've travelled."
Both his eyebrows rose at this. "The TARDIS is manipulating me?" He sounded quite offended as he rounded on the console and began fiddling with the controls. Martha waited by the door: his tone made her feel slightly wary of him and she found herself longing for the Eighth Doctor. He grunted at whatever the TARDIS was telling him, then turned back to Martha. "I think we should talk," he said. She nodded and he beckoned her over. "Do you play chess?"
"Yes," she answered, wondering why so many of the Doctor's incarnations persisted in asking her completely random questions.
"Good." He led her out of the Control Room to the Library and she felt herself relaxing a little at the sight of this familiar room. The Doctor guided her over to a chessboard set up on a table between two chairs and she suddenly remembered John Smith playing chess with one of the other masters at Farringham. She suppressed that memory quickly and sat down in the chair the Doctor indicated.
"May I ask which incarnation you are?" she asked as he set out the pieces.
"The Seventh," he said without looking up from his task.
Martha bit her lip thoughtfully. That meant she had at least two more to meet - the third and her own Doctor.
They played three games of chess, and he beat her soundly each time, but he talked her through each game afterwards, explaining which of her moves had allowed him to beat her - and pointing out her good moves.
"You have to look at the bigger picture," he told her. "In some ways, that's my job description - to look at the big picture and see where I can manipulate events to keep the Universe safe."
She raised an eyebrow. "You manipulate events? What, like, you change historical events?"
"If necessary." He didn't seem surprised by her disbelief and she had the feeling that he wouldn't have cared very much if she'd criticised him for such things - but then he was a Time Lord, and she was a mere human. Never had she been more aware of the vast gulf that lay between the two of them.
* * * * * *
Day Eight: 6.30 am
Martha had decided that she could hardly wait until she was fully qualified - not having to do night shifts was something which she looked forward to immensely. As she let herself into the TARDIS again, she wondered if she could persuade the Doctor to let her sleep on board for several hours, then take her back to a few minutes after she'd boarded the TARDIS so she could go home for more sleep. Would that be an abuse of time travel, she wondered? Right now she didn't care if it was - she just wanted to collapse somewhere flat.
The Control Room was the one most Doctors seemed to favour; stark white, but empty, although she could hear someone speaking. The next moment two men entered the room: one was tall with silver hair, and wearing a frilly shirt and a velvet cape as well as trousers and a jacket; the other with dark hair, a moustache and dressed in military uniform.
"Brigadier, surely even you realise - " The silver haired man stopped abruptly, staring almost as disbelievingly at Martha as she was staring at the soldier. "Who are you?"
Martha shook herself mentally. "Doctor Martha Jones, Companion to one of your future selves," she answered, guessing that this must be the Doctor.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can you prove that?" he asked, then shook his head. "You're in the TARDIS, that's proof enough." He saw Martha was glancing between himself and the soldier. "Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart," he said. "We work together at UNIT."
"UNIT?" asked Martha.
"United Nations Intelligence Task Force," answered the Brigadier in clipped tones. "It's our job to keep an eye out for invading aliens," he quirked an eyebrow as if he didn't quite believe it himself, "that sort of thing. We stop 'em before they do any damage."
She raised an eyebrow in turn and caught the Doctor's eye. He wasn't quite quick enough to hide a grimace and she guessed that the Brigadier's methods weren't wholly appreciated.
"I presume there is a reason for your presence aboard the TARDIS?" the Doctor asked.
She nodded and repeated her story, which she was becoming a little weary of telling it by now, it reminded her a little too sharply of her year spent walking the Earth. She saw that the Doctor was intrigued by her tale, but the Brigadier looked politely sceptical, and she found herself wondering at their association.
"Well then young lady," said the Doctor, "I think you should come and have some tea, then we can talk. If the TARDIS is behind things, it's best we don't hinder the old girl." He smiled at her and offered his arm, and she smiled back as she crossed the Control Room.
"Do you want me to remain here Doctor?" asked the Brigadier. He looked rather uncomfortable, Martha thought.
"Would you mind, old chap?" asked the Doctor. When he received a head shake in response, he led Martha out of the Control Room and through the corridors to the kitchen.
* * * * * *
Day Nine: 6.30 am
Martha watched the TARDIS materialise in her usual spot with a feeling of anticipation. Today could be the day she met her Doctor again - and she had such a lot to talk about with him.
She unlocked the door and pushed the door open, and gasped in shock at the sight of the Control Room. It was the Gothic cathedral one, but it was dark and there was smoke billowing everywhere. There were gaping holes in the walls and some of the struts were bent out of true.
"Doctor?" she called, trying to fight a rising panic.
"Martha?" She knew that voice. She hurried forward, squinting through the smoke and darkness, and nearly fell over someone. "Martha?"
"I'm here." She knelt down beside the Eighth Doctor with a small sob. His clothes were torn and burnt, and there were burns on his face and hands. "Oh my god, what happened?"
"I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I tried to come back to you sooner." He coughed wetly and she knew that sound well enough to know he was dying. "I asked the TARDIS to find you. I knew you could help me through this."
"Through what?" she asked bewildered. She clutched his hands in hers and felt tears sliding down her face.
"I'm going to regenerate," he told her. "Only chance I've got to survive." He gasped in pain. "I'll need your help to get through the next fifteen hours. The TARDIS will take you into the Vortex - I programmed her to respond to your presence combined with my regeneration. My Ninth self will bring you back to Earth." He coughed again. "Kiss me before I go, and remember that I'll always love you, even if I don't tell you again."
Martha bent over him and kissed him passionately, putting all the love she felt for all of him into the kiss. He reached up and caressed her cheek, smiling weakly. "Thank you dear Martha." He coughed again. "You'd better move over there." He waved weakly towards the console and she squeezed his hands, then got up and backed away.
The next moment there was an explosion of light from his body and she cried out in horror and fear, shielding her eyes as it brightened unbearably. When the light disappeared, there was a different man on the floor, wearing the Eighth Doctor's clothes. He was taller, she could tell from the way his ankles showed below his trousers, with bigger ears and almost no hair. He opened his eyes and she moved closer. "Doctor?"
"Martha Jones," he said in a gravely Northern accent.
"Are you OK?" she asked.
"I will be," he answered.
Before she could ask what he meant, she felt a lurch and knew that the TARDIS had dematerialised and moved into the Vortex. She looked up and around at the damage, and felt her heart constricting: this was almost as bad as when the Master had turned the ship into a Paradox Machine. She looked down at the Doctor again and saw he was giving her a very thoughtful look.
"You know my ship very well," he said, "and she knows you." Martha nodded. "We will both need your help Doctor Jones. Are you willing to give it?"
"Always," she answered immediately.
"Thank you." He struggled to sit up and she moved to help him. "Can you get me to the Medical Bay?" he asked.
"Yes." She draped his arm around her shoulders and tried not to stagger under his weight. He was as tall as her Doctor, she thought, but not as skinny.
Sixteen hours after his regeneration, the Doctor declared himself to be quite fit and healthy, and insisted that they must concentrate on repairing and healing the TARDIS. They moved back to the Control Room and the Doctor explained that he would need to use his telepathic connection with his ship to guide and help her heal.
"You told my previous self that you had travelled with the Doctor you know for quite some time, and that you felt you had a strong bond with my TARDIS as a result. I want to use that bond, if you're willing." His expression was serious, his eyes a piercing blue.
Martha nodded agreement. "Of course." She felt she was still getting to know this incarnation, but she cared too much about the TARDIS to refuse what he was asking, even though she had no real idea what it would entail.
He crossed to the remains of the console and sat down, then gestured for Martha to do the same. She crossed her legs and sat opposite him.
"You practise Yoga?" he asked.
"Sometimes," she answered.
"Good - you'll be better able to concentrate to help me and the TARDIS." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "We'll need to be linked telepathically to do this." She nodded understanding. "It'll be easiest if I can put my hands on your face. Is that OK?"
"Yes."
He scooted closer and placed his fingertips on her temples, reminding her of when she'd seen her Doctor do this with Peter Street. "Close your eyes and concentrate," he said quietly. She closed her eyes and saw they were in the Control Room as it had been when he was the Eighth Doctor and he was there too, this Northern-sounding stranger.
Where are we? she asked.
Inside the TARDIS' mind, he answered, as he took both of her hands in his, then pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. This is going to be a long and tiring process he told her.
Then we'd better get started, she answered.
It took them around 12 hours to repair and heal the damage in the Control Room and the Doctor had told her that the TARDIS could continue to heal herself once the Control Room was OK. He'd been completely astonished when he'd seen the way it looked, but Martha had been grinning when she opened her eyes on the familiar coral-like struts, and seen the golden glow that filled the room, whilst the Time Rotor shone sea-green.
"You did this," he said, half question, half statement.
She nodded. "Not deliberately. But this is how the TARDIS looked when I travelled with you."
He cocked his head. "I think your Doctor may be the next one after me," he said thoughtfully.
"Oh!"
"We should get some sleep, then I'll take you back." He stood up, then helped Martha to her feet. He pulled her into a hug and she hugged him back, appreciating his solidity and not minding the scratchiness of his jumper on her cheek as she pressed it against his chest, listening to his heartsbeat. He startled her by suddenly picking her up and carrying her across the Control Room and through the corridor to a nearby bedroom. "I don't know how many more rooms she has ready," he said as he lowered her gently onto the bed, then sat down on the edge. "But this should do. Thank you for all you've done for me and for the TARDIS Doctor Martha Jones. We wouldn't have made it even this far without you."
"You're welcome," she answered.
He cupped her cheek in one hand and she reached up to clasp his hand. "Sleep here," she suggested. He lifted one eyebrow. "I don't mean - I just mean, sleep here," she assured him. "I'm not asking for anything else."
"OK." He pulled off his boots, then pulled off Martha's shoes, before lying down next to her. He pulled her close and they fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace.
* * * * * *
Day Ten: 6.30 am
Martha was already waiting at the entrance to the alley when the TARDIS materialised at 6.30 on the tenth morning. She finally had some time off work and she'd decided to wait for the Doctor to arrive, even though part of her was wishing she was still in bed. She let herself into the TARDIS and there was the Doctor she'd travelled with standing beside the console, his hair as wild as usual, dressed in his blue suit and red Converse.
"Martha Jones," he said quietly, seeming unsurprised to see her.
"Hello Doctor."
The familiar hum of the TARDIS filled her head with a joyous song and she couldn't help grinning as she cocked her head to listen. "Your ship is very clever Mr Smith," she observed as she walked up the ramp towards him.
"Yes she is, but what makes you say that now, particularly?"
She stopped next to the console and looked at him. "She's brought nine of your previous incarnations to meet me over the last nine days," Martha said. "It's been an incredible time."
He ran a long-fingered hand over the console in a familiar gesture. "I don't remember meeting you," he said. The TARDIS' hum took on a smug note and he realised she had wiped the encounters from his memory. Not only clever, but sly as well, he decided.
She looked at him sadly. "No, I know you don't. If you had remembered, things would have gone very differently between us."
He looked surprised and opened his mouth to ask what she meant, then snapped it shut as the TARDIS unlocked his memories. "Oh!" He staggered back and Martha immediately moved forward, grabbing his arm. "Oh Rassilon!" he gasped. He sat down heavily on the Captain's chair. "You were there after - You helped me to regenerate, helped the TARDIS to heal. Oh Martha!" He wrapped his arms around her, sobbing, and she held him tight, realising what the TARDIS had done. The ship's humming filled her head, soothing and comforting, and she hoped that the Doctor could hear it too.
Eventually his sobs stopped and he lifted a tear-stained face from her shoulder. "I am so very sorry," he whispered.
She nodded, knowing that it wasn't his fault that he hadn't remembered her. She didn't know why the TARDIS had withheld the memories from him, but she trusted the ship had a good reason. "I think we need to talk," she said. "Tea?"
He gave her a watery smile. "Yes please."
They made their way to the kitchen, each with an arm wrapped around the other, and Martha encouraged him to sit down whilst she put the kettle on. He still seemed shaky and if he'd been human, she would have said he was in shock. She set a mug of sweet tea down in front of him, then sat down.
"How long is it since you saw me?" she asked.
"Nearly six months." She raised an eyebrow and he looked down into the mug. "I've been sticking to an Earth schedule, more or less."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to miss your call," he answered simply. "You said you would ring me and I'd better come running, and I knew I couldn't do that if I was half a galaxy away." He hunched his shoulders and mumbled: "I need you Martha Jones."
She put a hand over his. "I know you do. The last nine days have shown me that - especially yesterday."
He nodded. "I don't know why the TARDIS withheld my memories of you though."
"I think I know." He looked up at her in surprise. "She knew you needed to heal after what happened with the Master and that year you re-wound. Have you had a Companion since Jack and I left?"
"I had a temporary one for a few hours, but she couldn't stay - since then I've been on my own."
Martha nodded. "Over the last nine days I've gained a greater knowledge and understanding of who you are, what it means to be a Time Lord, and what it means to be Time's Champion. I think the TARDIS gave me that knowledge, and let me help you to regenerate and to heal her so that I could help you again. You need to get well." She took a deep breath. "I'm training to be a Psychiatrist - and I know you're not human, but I've learnt enough about PTSD from a clinical point of view, not to mention a personal one, to believe that you're suffering from it. Doctor, will you let me help you again, please?"
He remembered her kiss before he regenerated into his ninth body, then he remembered the way she'd helped him to heal the TARDIS, and he acknowledged that she meant a great deal more to him than he'd ever dared to admit to himself. "Yes."
"Good." She pulled him into a hug again. They had a long road ahead of them.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, the Ten Doctors
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Classic and New Who
Summary: Over the course of ten days, Martha meets all ten Doctors.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: After I wrote The Long Scarf for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game, I was asked by seularen to write Martha/Five and I said I'd give it a go - but then I thought, why stop there? Why not write Martha meeting all ten Doctors, starting with the Fifth (since I was asked for that) and finishing with the Tenth? So here they are…
This fic is for padawanpooh my fabulous Beta, who gave me several good suggestions and made this fic much better than it would otherwise have been.
~~~~~~
Day One: 6.30 am
Martha was about to cross the road after finishing an all-night shift in A&E when she heard the sound of the TARDIS materialising. Glancing across the road, she saw the familiar blue box shimmer into existence, and heedless of life or limb, raced through four lanes of traffic to the entrance of the alley. Breathless she leant against the doors, before fishing out her TARDIS key and letting herself in.
She pushed open the door and stepped inside, but stopped on the threshold staring in shock at the sight that met her eyes. Instead of the usual green-gold glow, with coral-like arches and trailing wires that she knew and loved, the room was stark white with big roundels on the walls and the Time Rotor was pink, which made her blink a few times.
"Doctor?" called Martha, as she wondered what had happened to have caused the TARDIS' Control Room to look so sterile and inhospitable.
A figure came through a door on the other side of the room and she found herself staring at a slim blond man in a cricket jumper, striped trousers, a white shirt and a long coat with what appeared to be a stick of celery on the lapel.
"Who are you?" she blurted.
"Rather more importantly who are you and what are you doing in my TARDIS?" demanded the figure huffily.
"Martha, Doctor Martha Jones. Are you the Doctor?"
"How did you know that?" asked the Doctor.
"Well the only person I know who owns an old blue Police Box is called the Doctor."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "You must be one of my future self's Companions, then," he observed, coming closer and looking her up and down thoughtfully.
"Which Doctor are you?" asked Martha curiously.
"This is my fifth body," he answered. "Which one are you travelling with?"
"I'm not," she answered. "And I'm not sure which one he is - he's never told me."
"But you have a TARDIS key?," said the Doctor, surprised.
She nodded. "I'm taking a break from travelling with him - something we had to deal with - I can't tell you, can I?" she asked worriedly, interrupting herself suddenly.
He shook his head. "Best if you don't," he said. "Come and have a cup of tea, whilst you're here."
"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" she asked.
"Positive," he said, offering her his elbow, which reminded her strongly of her Doctor.
* * * * * *
Day Two: 6.30 am
As Martha left the hospital after her second night shift, she concluded that she was likely to end up old before her time if she had to do this for too long - and working in A&E was the worst, especially at 1 am. She stood waiting to cross the road, rolling her neck and shoulders as she tried to ease some of the kinks from her muscles. Then she stopped and stared in disbelief as the TARDIS materialised in the same alley as the day before. She crossed the road with slightly more care than the previous morning, although still at speed, and pulled out her TARDIS key as she reached the ship. She was a little less hasty going through the doors this time, and when she saw that the Control Room wasn't the one she was familiar with, she didn't panic. It looked similar to the one she'd seen the day before, but the figure who popped his head up from beneath the console was completely different.
"Doctor?" she asked the short, mop-topped figure in a black coat. He looks like a Beatle, she thought in amusement.
He raised an eyebrow at her in a very familiar gesture. "Why yes, but who are you?"
"Doctor Martha Jones, Companion to the Doctor," she answered.
"Really?" He looked at her curiously. "Do you play the recorder?"
Martha looked at him blankly. "What?"
"Do you play the recorder?" he repeated, pulling one from his shabby coat pocket.
"Um no." She wondered if this really was the Doctor, or if it was one of his Companions.
"Pity. I find it helps me to think." He smiled suddenly and Martha couldn't help smiling back. "So, young lady, which of my incarnations are you travelling with?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't said - he doesn't talk much about himself." She felt slightly guilty when she said that, remembering that on the few occasions her Doctor had talked of himself, it had been with sadness for his lost people. She knew she couldn't mention that to this Doctor though.
"So where did your Doctor leave you?" he asked genially.
"Well he didn't exactly leave me anywhere. I'm not travelling with him at the moment."
"Yet you let yourself in here, presumably expecting to find me, well the later me?" She nodded. "Come and have a cup of tea and tell me what you can of why you left him," he said, offering her his arm.
* * * * * *
Day Three: 6.30 am
As Martha left the A&E department, she reflected that the last two days had been exhausting but also interesting. Both the Doctors she had met had been friendly and courteous, and the Fifth had been surprisingly informative. Talking with them at length over cups of tea might have made her later than she'd have liked in getting home to bed after her all-night shifts, but she felt it had been worth it from the point of view of understanding her Doctor.
The Second Doctor (he'd eventually admitted which incarnation he was) had been rather more evasive than the Fifth, but even that had been informative in a way - her Doctor was evasive often enough, but she'd learnt to read between the lines.
Her two encounters with his previous selves put the Doctor she knew in a different light, and made him seem a bit more real and three-dimensional again. During the past five and a half months of doing her medical and surgical training, and studying to become a psychiatrist, she had sometimes found herself recalling her travels with the Doctor as if they were nothing but a bright fever dream - especially in the small hours when she couldn't sleep. On days like those it took the sight of her parents together again with no sign of Annalise, or the sight of Tish's guarded look, to remind her that it had actually happened.
Martha was half way across the road when the TARDIS materialised at the entrance to the alley opposite, the exact same spot in which it appeared at this exact time the last two mornings. She wondered if someone was trying to tell her something or if the Universe was playing some kind of joke on her. It was, she decided, like an inverted Groundhog Day.
Unlocking the door, Martha let herself in, noting that the console had changed slightly, but the Control Room still looked white and sterile, and she wondered at what point the coral-look had appeared. As she shut the door behind her, Martha caught a glimpse of blurred movement beside her and instinctively ducked just as two hands tried to grasp her throat. She backed away from the man in the multi-coloured coat, noting curly blond hair, a cat-pin on the jacket lapel and question marks on the shirt collar as she dodged out of reach.
"Doctor?" she asked breathlessly, wondering if he greeted everyone with an attempt to throttle them.
"Get out!" he said forcefully. "Go on, get out! What do you think you're doing, breaking into my TARDIS?"
"I didn't break in!" Martha exclaimed indignantly, "I've got a key."
"A key? I didn't give you a key, so you must have stolen it. Out! Out! OUT!"
Martha dodged away from him again and grabbed the door, deciding that discretion really was the better part of valour on occasion.
* * * * * *
Day Four: 6.30 am
After her encounter the previous morning, Martha had gone home for a cup of tea and a shower. As she shampooed her hair, she mulled over her run in with the Doctor and wondered which one she'd encountered. What had made him so inclined to attack strangers? As she got into bed she wondered if she dared to ask her Doctor about the incarnation in the Joseph coat.
Martha had already crossed the road when she saw the TARDIS materialise with a sense of inevitability. Whatever was going on, it was clear that someone somewhere had a rather perverse sense of humour. She pulled out her TARDIS key and opened the door, peering cautiously inside in case of murderous aliens, but she forgot her caution when she saw the Control Room. It was brown, with a small raised dais in the middle on which stood the console. She'd never seen the console look so old-fashioned: it looked like something out of a Jules Verne novel and she found it oddly disconcerting. Her attention was drawn from the console a moment later by the figure who came through the far door; the first thing she noticed was the immensely long gaudy knitted scarf that was wrapped several times around his neck; the second thing was his curly hair and staring eyes; the third thing was his smile, which was wide and welcoming.
"Hello! Who are you?" he asked cheerfully, apparently unfazed by the appearance of a strange young woman in his TARDIS.
"Martha, Doctor Martha Jones," she answered, smiling automatically as he strode over to shake hands.
"How do you do, Doctor Martha Jones?"
"Hello. Which incarnation are you?"
"The fourth. Which me are you travelling with?"
"I'm not travelling with him, you," Martha scowled a moment over the pronouns, "at the moment. But you're the fourth incarnation I've seen in the last four days, always at this time and on this spot. Do you know what's going on?"
He moved over to the console and began flicking switches and fiddling about, then looked thoughtfully at the screen. "It seems to be some kind of temporal anomaly. When and where are we?"
"London, 2009," she answered.
"Hmm. I can't think of anything particularly significant that happens now - but Time isn't fixed, as I'm sure you know."
"It's like a big ball of string - but in the case of Time, it's a ball of 'wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff'," Martha answered.
He frowned. " 'Timey-wimey'?" he asked.
"Something you said once," she said.
"Hmm. Well anyway, as you observe, Time's not linear, so something may have changed that I'm not yet aware of." He smiled suddenly. "Why don't you come and have a cup of tea and we'll talk about it?"
She smiled. "Do you always drink tea?" she asked curiously.
"Yes. Why?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Two of your other incarnations also offered me tea and conversation."
"What did the third offer you?" asked the Doctor.
"Nothing - he tried to throttle me actually. Bloke in a rainbow coat with a cat-pin on the lapel."
"I don't recognise the description," he said. "Sorry. So tea? And I think I may have some biscuits as well."
Martha smiled. "Tea and biscuits sounds good," she agreed.
* * * * * *
Day Five: 6.30 am
The TARDIS materialised promptly on the dot of 6.30 am and once again Martha let herself in, slipping her key back inside the neck of her shirt. She looked up and stared open-mouthed. "Wow!" she said softly, awed by the sight of the Control Room looking like a fabulous Gothic Cathedral and in such contrast to the Fourth Doctor's.
"I'm glad you like it," said a quiet voice nearby and she turned to see a man with long curly hair and brown eyes watching her. He was wearing a dark velvet coat, with a brown patterned waistcoat, a white shirt, a brown necktie and beige trousers. She snapped her mouth shut abruptly, feeling a blush steal over her face. "Who, my lady, are you?"
She found her voice. "Martha, Doctor Martha Jones," she answered, shaking the hand he offered, then blushing still more when he carried her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"Delighted," he said. "I'm the Doctor, but I think you already knew that since you let yourself in here?" She nodded. "May I see your key?"
"Oh, of course." She pulled it back out, trying not to feel flustered, and he stepped closer before she could lift the chain from around her neck.
He took hold of the key and peered at it. "Interesting. This is a totally different sort of key to mine." He pulled his key from his trouser pocket and showed it to Martha. "I think the TARDIS must have decided to temporarily change the lock so you could get in." He pocketed his key, then dropped Martha's key back inside her clothes and she tried very hard not to shiver at his closeness. "So then, Doctor Jones, why are you here?"
She forced her unruly thoughts into order. "The TARDIS has materialised on this spot at this time every day for five days now. The first morning I expected it to be the Doctor I travelled with, but it's been a different incarnation every day."
"Hmm, interesting. Come and have some tea and tell me about it." He offered his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her through the wood-panelled corridors to the kitchen. "Take a seat," he said, before turning to make tea.
Martha sat down, still feeling slightly dazed by this incarnation. She'd thought her Doctor was good-looking, however this one wasn't just dashing but thoroughly charming as well.
She tried not to think about kissing him.
"Here you are." He set a cup and saucer down in front of her.
"Thank you."
"So which of my other selves have you met?"
"The fifth, the second, the fourth, and um, not sure about the other one as he tried to throttle me."
"Oh that sounds unpleasant! What did he look like?"
"I only got a brief glimpse: curly blond hair, a rainbow coat and a cat-pin on his lapel."
He winced. "Sorry about that. My sixth incarnation was a rather troubled one." He rubbed at his top lip thoughtfully. "When you've finished your tea, why don't we go for a walk in the Arboretum and you can tell me more about meeting my earlier selves?"
"I'd like that," Martha answered, with a smile.
"What time did the TARDIS arrive here?"
"Six thirty am," she answered, wondering why he asked.
"Then I will make sure to take the TARDIS back to that time after we finish talking, so that you don't lose any sleep." She looked at him, startled, and he smiled. "You said you're a Doctor, and in my experience they keep odd hours. I guessed you were on your way to or from work when the TARDIS materialised, but it seemed most likely that you were going home."
"I was. Thank you," she said fervently, glad to know she could talk to him for as long as she wanted, yet still get several hours sleep once she got home.
"You're very welcome Martha."
* * * * * *
Day Six: 6.30 am
Martha had spent hours talking to the Eighth Doctor; he'd told her a good deal about his various incarnations, including the ones she hadn't yet met. When they'd finished talking and he'd been preparing to take the TARDIS back to a few minutes after they'd met, she'd suddenly decided to ask him to take her with him.
"I don't think that would be a good idea, at the moment, do you?" he asked gently. "I think you need to work through whatever's going on with these meetings with my previous selves, then talk to your Doctor again. This is happening for a reason and I think it's important that events play out to that meeting between you and my future self."
She nodded, eyes downcast, trying to push aside the feeling of disappointment she felt at his refusal. "Oh Martha, Martha, Martha," he said, pulling her into a hug. "Don't give up on me just yet. You're a very special person and I'm positive my future self needs you, more perhaps than either of you realise." He lifted her chin to look her in the eyes. "If I can, I will come back for you at a later date. That's a promise. If I can't manage that, remember this time we've had together and remind me of it when you meet my future self again. Please?" She nodded again and he smiled at her, then kissed her firmly on the mouth. "Take care of yourself for my sake." He turned away and set the co-ordinates, and a few moments later he ushered her out of the door, watching her until she was out of sight.
She was trying not to remember that kiss as the TARDIS materialised yet again the following day and she let herself in. To her disappointment the Control Room was again the stark white version she'd seen before, although she supposed it was just as well it wasn't the Gothic Cathedral again or she might have got her hopes up that the Eighth Doctor had changed his mind and returned for her.
"Now this is an unusual happenstance," said a voice, and Martha turned to see a white-haired man watching her from the opposite side of the Control Room. He was leaning on a stick and looked older than any of the other incarnations she'd seen. "Who are you, young woman, and what are you doing in my TARDIS?"
"I'm Doctor Martha Jones, a Companion to one of your future selves," Martha answered. "Over the last five days I have met five of you. It's my belief that someone or something has been arranging these meetings for me to help your future self."
He raised an eyebrow at her, still looking rather imperiously at her. "What is the basis of your belief?"
"Your fourth incarnation thought there was a temporal anomaly at work, and your eighth was certain that the meetings were meant to help me to know you better, so that I can help the incarnation with whom I travelled for a time."
"Very well." He beckoned her forward. "Lend me your arm, we will take tea and talk."
"Thank you." She moved forward and offered him her arm, and was rewarded with a smile that immediately made him look far less stern.
* * * * * *
Day Seven: 6.30 am
Martha had been startled to learn that the First Doctor's first Companion had been his granddaughter - she hadn't known he'd been a father, let alone a grandfather. When the First Doctor had told her that Susan had remained on Earth during the middle of the twentieth century, she found herself wondering whether Susan had survived the Time War, and if her Doctor had looked for her. She knew, however, that she would never dare to ask him that question.
She was yawning this morning as the TARDIS materialised, but she knew she only had three more night shifts to go before she got some time off. She wondered how many more mornings she would stand here and watch the familiar blue Police box appear out of thin air before she saw her Doctor and wished she'd thought to ask him which incarnation he was, so that now she would know how many more of these visits to expect.
She let herself into the TARDIS and found the by-now familiar white Control Room, although the Time Rotor wasn't pink. The short dark man standing by the console turned as she shut the door behind her and she saw he was wearing a shirt and tie, a jumper covered in question marks, a light coloured jacket and checked trousers. He had a paisley scarf under the lapels of his jacket she noted as he raised one eyebrow at her.
"Hello Doctor. I'm Doctor Martha Jones, one of your Companions."
"Not a Companion I've met yet," he said. "So you must be travelling with one of my future selves." She nodded. "A Doctor - which branch do you specialise in?"
"I'm training in psychiatry." Martha shook the hand he offered her.
"Interesting choice. Why are you here?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "The TARDIS keeps bringing different incarnations of you to this spot, and some of your other selves have suggested that she is trying to help me to help your future self with whom I've travelled."
Both his eyebrows rose at this. "The TARDIS is manipulating me?" He sounded quite offended as he rounded on the console and began fiddling with the controls. Martha waited by the door: his tone made her feel slightly wary of him and she found herself longing for the Eighth Doctor. He grunted at whatever the TARDIS was telling him, then turned back to Martha. "I think we should talk," he said. She nodded and he beckoned her over. "Do you play chess?"
"Yes," she answered, wondering why so many of the Doctor's incarnations persisted in asking her completely random questions.
"Good." He led her out of the Control Room to the Library and she felt herself relaxing a little at the sight of this familiar room. The Doctor guided her over to a chessboard set up on a table between two chairs and she suddenly remembered John Smith playing chess with one of the other masters at Farringham. She suppressed that memory quickly and sat down in the chair the Doctor indicated.
"May I ask which incarnation you are?" she asked as he set out the pieces.
"The Seventh," he said without looking up from his task.
Martha bit her lip thoughtfully. That meant she had at least two more to meet - the third and her own Doctor.
They played three games of chess, and he beat her soundly each time, but he talked her through each game afterwards, explaining which of her moves had allowed him to beat her - and pointing out her good moves.
"You have to look at the bigger picture," he told her. "In some ways, that's my job description - to look at the big picture and see where I can manipulate events to keep the Universe safe."
She raised an eyebrow. "You manipulate events? What, like, you change historical events?"
"If necessary." He didn't seem surprised by her disbelief and she had the feeling that he wouldn't have cared very much if she'd criticised him for such things - but then he was a Time Lord, and she was a mere human. Never had she been more aware of the vast gulf that lay between the two of them.
* * * * * *
Day Eight: 6.30 am
Martha had decided that she could hardly wait until she was fully qualified - not having to do night shifts was something which she looked forward to immensely. As she let herself into the TARDIS again, she wondered if she could persuade the Doctor to let her sleep on board for several hours, then take her back to a few minutes after she'd boarded the TARDIS so she could go home for more sleep. Would that be an abuse of time travel, she wondered? Right now she didn't care if it was - she just wanted to collapse somewhere flat.
The Control Room was the one most Doctors seemed to favour; stark white, but empty, although she could hear someone speaking. The next moment two men entered the room: one was tall with silver hair, and wearing a frilly shirt and a velvet cape as well as trousers and a jacket; the other with dark hair, a moustache and dressed in military uniform.
"Brigadier, surely even you realise - " The silver haired man stopped abruptly, staring almost as disbelievingly at Martha as she was staring at the soldier. "Who are you?"
Martha shook herself mentally. "Doctor Martha Jones, Companion to one of your future selves," she answered, guessing that this must be the Doctor.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can you prove that?" he asked, then shook his head. "You're in the TARDIS, that's proof enough." He saw Martha was glancing between himself and the soldier. "Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart," he said. "We work together at UNIT."
"UNIT?" asked Martha.
"United Nations Intelligence Task Force," answered the Brigadier in clipped tones. "It's our job to keep an eye out for invading aliens," he quirked an eyebrow as if he didn't quite believe it himself, "that sort of thing. We stop 'em before they do any damage."
She raised an eyebrow in turn and caught the Doctor's eye. He wasn't quite quick enough to hide a grimace and she guessed that the Brigadier's methods weren't wholly appreciated.
"I presume there is a reason for your presence aboard the TARDIS?" the Doctor asked.
She nodded and repeated her story, which she was becoming a little weary of telling it by now, it reminded her a little too sharply of her year spent walking the Earth. She saw that the Doctor was intrigued by her tale, but the Brigadier looked politely sceptical, and she found herself wondering at their association.
"Well then young lady," said the Doctor, "I think you should come and have some tea, then we can talk. If the TARDIS is behind things, it's best we don't hinder the old girl." He smiled at her and offered his arm, and she smiled back as she crossed the Control Room.
"Do you want me to remain here Doctor?" asked the Brigadier. He looked rather uncomfortable, Martha thought.
"Would you mind, old chap?" asked the Doctor. When he received a head shake in response, he led Martha out of the Control Room and through the corridors to the kitchen.
* * * * * *
Day Nine: 6.30 am
Martha watched the TARDIS materialise in her usual spot with a feeling of anticipation. Today could be the day she met her Doctor again - and she had such a lot to talk about with him.
She unlocked the door and pushed the door open, and gasped in shock at the sight of the Control Room. It was the Gothic cathedral one, but it was dark and there was smoke billowing everywhere. There were gaping holes in the walls and some of the struts were bent out of true.
"Doctor?" she called, trying to fight a rising panic.
"Martha?" She knew that voice. She hurried forward, squinting through the smoke and darkness, and nearly fell over someone. "Martha?"
"I'm here." She knelt down beside the Eighth Doctor with a small sob. His clothes were torn and burnt, and there were burns on his face and hands. "Oh my god, what happened?"
"I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I tried to come back to you sooner." He coughed wetly and she knew that sound well enough to know he was dying. "I asked the TARDIS to find you. I knew you could help me through this."
"Through what?" she asked bewildered. She clutched his hands in hers and felt tears sliding down her face.
"I'm going to regenerate," he told her. "Only chance I've got to survive." He gasped in pain. "I'll need your help to get through the next fifteen hours. The TARDIS will take you into the Vortex - I programmed her to respond to your presence combined with my regeneration. My Ninth self will bring you back to Earth." He coughed again. "Kiss me before I go, and remember that I'll always love you, even if I don't tell you again."
Martha bent over him and kissed him passionately, putting all the love she felt for all of him into the kiss. He reached up and caressed her cheek, smiling weakly. "Thank you dear Martha." He coughed again. "You'd better move over there." He waved weakly towards the console and she squeezed his hands, then got up and backed away.
The next moment there was an explosion of light from his body and she cried out in horror and fear, shielding her eyes as it brightened unbearably. When the light disappeared, there was a different man on the floor, wearing the Eighth Doctor's clothes. He was taller, she could tell from the way his ankles showed below his trousers, with bigger ears and almost no hair. He opened his eyes and she moved closer. "Doctor?"
"Martha Jones," he said in a gravely Northern accent.
"Are you OK?" she asked.
"I will be," he answered.
Before she could ask what he meant, she felt a lurch and knew that the TARDIS had dematerialised and moved into the Vortex. She looked up and around at the damage, and felt her heart constricting: this was almost as bad as when the Master had turned the ship into a Paradox Machine. She looked down at the Doctor again and saw he was giving her a very thoughtful look.
"You know my ship very well," he said, "and she knows you." Martha nodded. "We will both need your help Doctor Jones. Are you willing to give it?"
"Always," she answered immediately.
"Thank you." He struggled to sit up and she moved to help him. "Can you get me to the Medical Bay?" he asked.
"Yes." She draped his arm around her shoulders and tried not to stagger under his weight. He was as tall as her Doctor, she thought, but not as skinny.
Sixteen hours after his regeneration, the Doctor declared himself to be quite fit and healthy, and insisted that they must concentrate on repairing and healing the TARDIS. They moved back to the Control Room and the Doctor explained that he would need to use his telepathic connection with his ship to guide and help her heal.
"You told my previous self that you had travelled with the Doctor you know for quite some time, and that you felt you had a strong bond with my TARDIS as a result. I want to use that bond, if you're willing." His expression was serious, his eyes a piercing blue.
Martha nodded agreement. "Of course." She felt she was still getting to know this incarnation, but she cared too much about the TARDIS to refuse what he was asking, even though she had no real idea what it would entail.
He crossed to the remains of the console and sat down, then gestured for Martha to do the same. She crossed her legs and sat opposite him.
"You practise Yoga?" he asked.
"Sometimes," she answered.
"Good - you'll be better able to concentrate to help me and the TARDIS." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "We'll need to be linked telepathically to do this." She nodded understanding. "It'll be easiest if I can put my hands on your face. Is that OK?"
"Yes."
He scooted closer and placed his fingertips on her temples, reminding her of when she'd seen her Doctor do this with Peter Street. "Close your eyes and concentrate," he said quietly. She closed her eyes and saw they were in the Control Room as it had been when he was the Eighth Doctor and he was there too, this Northern-sounding stranger.
Where are we? she asked.
Inside the TARDIS' mind, he answered, as he took both of her hands in his, then pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. This is going to be a long and tiring process he told her.
Then we'd better get started, she answered.
It took them around 12 hours to repair and heal the damage in the Control Room and the Doctor had told her that the TARDIS could continue to heal herself once the Control Room was OK. He'd been completely astonished when he'd seen the way it looked, but Martha had been grinning when she opened her eyes on the familiar coral-like struts, and seen the golden glow that filled the room, whilst the Time Rotor shone sea-green.
"You did this," he said, half question, half statement.
She nodded. "Not deliberately. But this is how the TARDIS looked when I travelled with you."
He cocked his head. "I think your Doctor may be the next one after me," he said thoughtfully.
"Oh!"
"We should get some sleep, then I'll take you back." He stood up, then helped Martha to her feet. He pulled her into a hug and she hugged him back, appreciating his solidity and not minding the scratchiness of his jumper on her cheek as she pressed it against his chest, listening to his heartsbeat. He startled her by suddenly picking her up and carrying her across the Control Room and through the corridor to a nearby bedroom. "I don't know how many more rooms she has ready," he said as he lowered her gently onto the bed, then sat down on the edge. "But this should do. Thank you for all you've done for me and for the TARDIS Doctor Martha Jones. We wouldn't have made it even this far without you."
"You're welcome," she answered.
He cupped her cheek in one hand and she reached up to clasp his hand. "Sleep here," she suggested. He lifted one eyebrow. "I don't mean - I just mean, sleep here," she assured him. "I'm not asking for anything else."
"OK." He pulled off his boots, then pulled off Martha's shoes, before lying down next to her. He pulled her close and they fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace.
* * * * * *
Day Ten: 6.30 am
Martha was already waiting at the entrance to the alley when the TARDIS materialised at 6.30 on the tenth morning. She finally had some time off work and she'd decided to wait for the Doctor to arrive, even though part of her was wishing she was still in bed. She let herself into the TARDIS and there was the Doctor she'd travelled with standing beside the console, his hair as wild as usual, dressed in his blue suit and red Converse.
"Martha Jones," he said quietly, seeming unsurprised to see her.
"Hello Doctor."
The familiar hum of the TARDIS filled her head with a joyous song and she couldn't help grinning as she cocked her head to listen. "Your ship is very clever Mr Smith," she observed as she walked up the ramp towards him.
"Yes she is, but what makes you say that now, particularly?"
She stopped next to the console and looked at him. "She's brought nine of your previous incarnations to meet me over the last nine days," Martha said. "It's been an incredible time."
He ran a long-fingered hand over the console in a familiar gesture. "I don't remember meeting you," he said. The TARDIS' hum took on a smug note and he realised she had wiped the encounters from his memory. Not only clever, but sly as well, he decided.
She looked at him sadly. "No, I know you don't. If you had remembered, things would have gone very differently between us."
He looked surprised and opened his mouth to ask what she meant, then snapped it shut as the TARDIS unlocked his memories. "Oh!" He staggered back and Martha immediately moved forward, grabbing his arm. "Oh Rassilon!" he gasped. He sat down heavily on the Captain's chair. "You were there after - You helped me to regenerate, helped the TARDIS to heal. Oh Martha!" He wrapped his arms around her, sobbing, and she held him tight, realising what the TARDIS had done. The ship's humming filled her head, soothing and comforting, and she hoped that the Doctor could hear it too.
Eventually his sobs stopped and he lifted a tear-stained face from her shoulder. "I am so very sorry," he whispered.
She nodded, knowing that it wasn't his fault that he hadn't remembered her. She didn't know why the TARDIS had withheld the memories from him, but she trusted the ship had a good reason. "I think we need to talk," she said. "Tea?"
He gave her a watery smile. "Yes please."
They made their way to the kitchen, each with an arm wrapped around the other, and Martha encouraged him to sit down whilst she put the kettle on. He still seemed shaky and if he'd been human, she would have said he was in shock. She set a mug of sweet tea down in front of him, then sat down.
"How long is it since you saw me?" she asked.
"Nearly six months." She raised an eyebrow and he looked down into the mug. "I've been sticking to an Earth schedule, more or less."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to miss your call," he answered simply. "You said you would ring me and I'd better come running, and I knew I couldn't do that if I was half a galaxy away." He hunched his shoulders and mumbled: "I need you Martha Jones."
She put a hand over his. "I know you do. The last nine days have shown me that - especially yesterday."
He nodded. "I don't know why the TARDIS withheld my memories of you though."
"I think I know." He looked up at her in surprise. "She knew you needed to heal after what happened with the Master and that year you re-wound. Have you had a Companion since Jack and I left?"
"I had a temporary one for a few hours, but she couldn't stay - since then I've been on my own."
Martha nodded. "Over the last nine days I've gained a greater knowledge and understanding of who you are, what it means to be a Time Lord, and what it means to be Time's Champion. I think the TARDIS gave me that knowledge, and let me help you to regenerate and to heal her so that I could help you again. You need to get well." She took a deep breath. "I'm training to be a Psychiatrist - and I know you're not human, but I've learnt enough about PTSD from a clinical point of view, not to mention a personal one, to believe that you're suffering from it. Doctor, will you let me help you again, please?"
He remembered her kiss before he regenerated into his ninth body, then he remembered the way she'd helped him to heal the TARDIS, and he acknowledged that she meant a great deal more to him than he'd ever dared to admit to himself. "Yes."
"Good." She pulled him into a hug again. They had a long road ahead of them.