martha_jones: ([nameless] behind emote)
You have to accept he's not coming back.

You don't want to, but it's been so long now, you really don't have much of a choice.

+~

Once upon a time, you thought you'd never be rid of his affections. They weren't warranted, but you certainly weren't oblivious to them. It was like that light that never went on in the Doctor went on for him from the moment the Doctor dropped him at your doorstep.

It's kind of sweet, in a way. He reminds you of yourself, a long time ago, and maybe that's something you need. You need to see yourself the way you were, because the way you are isn't always the best you could be. You were better before, even if you were hopelessly in love with a man who never saw you. He's like that, now. He may not be in love with you, but he cares about you even if you're in love with Tom.

He looks at you as you practice your wedding day makeup and you're left wondering what he's thinking when he sees you. )

Muse: Martha Jones, MD
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,269
Based on RP with [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand (but not binding to RP!), special thanks to that mun for reading this over!
martha_jones: ([suit] o rly?)
You're far too comfortable to move.

Not yet.

Sure, your Mum tells you that you should buy a larger flat, or a house, and make it perfect for yourself and Tom. That's what couples do, that's what she and your Dad did, that's what Leo and his girlfriend would do if his girlfriend would just be like any normal girl and marry him.

But your flat is safe. You can stand by the side window and know with absolute certainty that if someone was shooting at you outside, you could duck under the window and hide. And your front door has all the locks you've installed, and your bedroom door sticks just enough that only you and Tom can push it open without too much effort. You know the handle of the door and you know how to shift your arm and throw your weight into it, so you know without doubt that your bedroom is safe.

Your home is safe. Your carpet is plush and soft beneath your feet and the closeness of the walls is a tight, comforting feeling. It's not vast, like the TARDIS, or the world.

And what about Nameless? You ask your mother. You can't just tell him to leave, he's got nowhere to go!

What about him? Your mother demands back. He's not your husband, he's not even really a person. He's certainly not good for you, like Tom is.

He's my friend, you reply. There's a note to your voice that implies, to your ever-so-nosy-mother, that he's just your friend. Sure, in the heat of a very tense moment you and he have shared an idiotic kiss, but it was nothing Tom can't forgive. When you tell him. Which will be soon.

Just not yet.

And no, the bedroom Nameless is in at the moment wouldn't really make a good nursery, but you're not married yet, much less ready for children. What would you do with them, anyway? It's not as if you have time to take care of them. And Tom, well, Tom's a constant but absent presence in your life. He isn't ready to be a steady parent. Tom might tell you he is, but he isn't. He isn't.

The world like you know it isn't the sort you want to bring a child into, either. Cut for mild spoilers to Torchwood: Children of Earth. )

Muse: Martha Jones, MD
Fandom:Doctor Who
Word Count:1,387
based on RP with [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand
martha_jones: ([tom] side by side)
It's been 155 days since the Daleks stole Earth.

Tom remembers that day well. He remembers the cold, sunny day in Southern Africa suddenly plunged into terrifying darkness. He remembers holding frightened children and telling them everything would be all right. He remembers telling them a story Martha told him once, about a man who could turn back time and bring the world back to right. He'd come, Tom promised the children, the Doctor would come and bring the stars back.

He remembers sitting around a makeshift fire, trying to get some sort of signal to New York. He remembers praying---for the first time in how many years now?---that Martha was all right. She had to be all right.

+~

The buildings shook, patients screamed, bedpans toppled over and catheters fell out as the Earth was put back to right. Just like he said it would. Tom remembers that even as they pulled themselves from the ground, the people around him cheered for the sunshine.

He's on the eighteenth plane to leave. He should've been much, much later, but he refuses to stay, not when he's always put everyone else first before this. It takes a week, but he gets home, back to London. He doesn't stop off at his mother's house, he rushes right to Martha's. Her phone is still going straight to voicemail, and if he can't get ahold of her---

He darts up the stairs and throws open the door and almost walks directly into him. It's the man Tom's seen in pictures Martha's shoved into boxes and under cabinets, pretending he doesn't exist anymore.

"The Doctor?" Tom asks.

"No." He, he being the man who looks like the Doctor, looks startled to see him. He's in a blue suit with red trainers and he's standing in the doorway, more than a bit dumbfounded.

"Tom!" Martha darts to the door and grins. He loves that smile of hers, the one that's a little surprised but thoroughly pleased. It melts away quickly and turns into something like embarrassment.

"This is…a friend of mine." She takes Tom's arm and leads him up to the bedroom---sorry, her bedroom, as the office now has its own futon, being his bedroom.

This is when Tom learns that the day Earth was returned to orbit, the Doctor made a choice and left Martha with him, this half-human clone without a job, home, or anything else.

"He's got nowhere to go," Martha tells him. "He'll stay here a few weeks, get himself together, and be off. Nothing's different."

He believes her because he's never had any reason not to believe her.

He goes back downstairs and shakes the hand of this nameless man, the one who will be Martha's flatmate for a while. Tom had thought he'd sweep in, take her into his arms, and forget about the world falling apart. Now, standing there in muddy red trainers, is a personification of everything that happened to the world.

+~

I love you. )

Muse: Martha Jones
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 2,036
Based on this post and extra special thanks to your hero, my co-conspirator, [livejournal.com profile] handysparehand!
martha_jones: ([nameless] walking side by side)
Under the tiny artificial tree in Martha's flat is this gift for Nameless that has no nametag. There is a little note that says:

Merry Christmas
Love, M




What is inside the box... )
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