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charloft: Under the tree
Jan. 7th, 2009 08:47 pmIt'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]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
handysparehand!
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,
handysparehand!
