Gallifreyan Nature: Chapter 23

[nevermoreraven]

Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
DISCLAIMER: Other people have actually read this one before the internet.  Yes, I know.  It's weird.
Summary: This is a rewrite of the Human Nature/Family of Blood two-parter, because I really liked Latimer.  It's long.  I liked it pretty well at the time, as did the other readers, so let's see how well it held up.  ...so far, so good.  also I actually bothered to tab for once on this one.
It's not finished, but it's fairly close.

 

When Martha’s tears dried, she resolved to go find the Doctor, try to reason with him, ask him for some way that she could save Dan somehow.  It seemed to her like she hadn’t gone the way the Doctor had, but something nudged her in the direction she was supposed to go.  It seemed to her like it should’ve taken longer, too, but the route took probably under a minute.

When she emerged in the room, she blinked.  It wasn’t like a room at all.

A forest, like an enormous anachronism, stood in the middle of the TARDIS.  She could hear a river, bubbling and frothing somewhere on the edge of perception.  She had the feeling that birds were flying somewhere overhead, but didn’t see any.  It’d be really odd to have any other life in the TARDIS, though.  The sight was very, very alien, and twice as beautiful.  The light streaming down had some colour in it that she didn’t recognize, and it was so very peaceful.  She could see why the Doctor would have fled here-the sanctuary of the TARDIS.

And beneath the trees, sitting cross-legged with his back to her was the Time Lord she’d gotten to know so well.  From somewhere, she heard a voice-that of a woman, it seemed, only alien and mysterious.  Somehow, she knew it was the TARDIS speaking, though how she knew she didn’t have a clue.  “Everything I do only makes it worse.”

She thought that if he’d been in the console room, he’d have patted his timeship.  “I know the feeling,” he muttered.

It seemed he could sense her watching him, for in a moment he’d cast a glance over his shoulder.  Upon spying her, he beamed excitedly.  “Martha, hello!”  He waved enthusiastically at her, motioning for her to come over and sit by him.

‘He can’t be so happy to see me as all that,’ Martha thought, but gingerly came over to sit by him.  “Hello, Doctor,” she ventured cautiously.

He sighed, as if he was about to do something he didn’t like very much, and then stared deep into her eyes.  “I’m not gone, you know,” he stated calmly, as if the conversation was completely normal.  “It’s just…sort of an amalgam of Doctor and Dan in here, and I hadn’t remembered right away because it was a bit traumatic.  There was something,” he fixed her with a solemn gaze, “…that he wanted to tell you but didn’t…”

Martha thought about hitting him, and, as if reading her mind, he threw his hands up.  “I meant I!  Don’t slap me, please.  I’ve had enough of that already, and, well…” he grimaced, “I’m feeling guilty enough already, okay?  Don’t add more.”

Something in his manner wasn’t quite right.  The voice, the accent, the half-joking manner, his facial expression-those were all his.  But he would never have said what he just did, not with that look in his eyes.  It hadn’t quite gone exactly as she’d expected.

Martha Jones just froze up, the way she did so many times when she felt her heart melting over her beautiful Time Lord.  She listened, entranced, as he explained-couldn’t have moved or done anything else if she’d wanted to.

“…It’s Dan.  Really, it is.  But if you’re to believe that, believe a word I’m saying…you’re gonna have to hear the whole story.  The bad parts included, the things I didn’t want to tell you.”  He sighed, a deep, heavy sigh that communicated the enormity of his burden.  “I just wanted to lift up my spirits-and yours.  To allow myself to feel for once, not to run away like a coward every time someone starts getting too close.  I knew…the end was coming, and I didn’t want to die, not alone, but I wanted to live, allow myself to live, and not be worried about anything I usually do, letting fear and guilt overwhelm me.  I keep hurting, and though you could help heal my wounds I keep pushing you away because I don’t want you to get hurt, too.  I feel so responsible, for everything…”

He gulped, and finally realized he hadn’t started at the beginning.  “Okay….right, I’m totally confusing you.  That’ll be all right.  Hopefully, my explanation won’t be too bad…although, considering it’s me, it never seems to make much sense to you, so….”  He glared at a tree, as if the TARDIS was responsible for his failings.  “…Just a short while ago, the TARDIS was lonely,” he started again, as if this made so much more sense than the first story.

“…She’s not the only one?” Martha brought herself to ask pointedly, breaking free of the spell.

The Doctor didn’t react as she thought he would-he put his fingers on her lips, obviously enjoying the sensation of touch, and whispered, “Shhh…I’m not done yet.”

He then carried on as if nothing had happened.  “She happens to have my DNA in a cloning bank in the medical centre-mostly, you know, in case anything bad happens to me-that way, she’s got a chance of saving me.  And she decided to make a clone.  She didn’t think it would do anything bad-paradoxes, or suchlike-because, as humans have discovered already, cloning is a tricky process, and for some reason, clones of Time Lords don’t tend to last long.  We’re a bit too complicated to replicate, really.  She thought…the clone would die before the Doctor came back-through the watch, of course.  And in the meantime, the clone could keep her company.  But then she decided that she knows best, so she decided to mess about with the genetics a bit, try to create a more perfect Doctor.”

Doctor Jones gaped at him.  For once, she thought she was following, and the explanation was as barmy as she’d guessed, because what he was suggesting was completely impossible.  He grinned at her expression and continued.

“She decided that I was too lonely, and that if only I fell for one of my companions, everything would be hunky-dory.  So she intensified the attraction I felt for you, so I had to do something about my feelings.  But, of course, she’s a living timeship-she doesn’t really understand bipedal mammals much at all.  And she should have known that I wouldn’t just sit still and play Bluff when the universe needed saving.  I mean, this is the Time Lord that can’t sit still for five minutes!  What was she thinking?”  He gestured at himself, and Martha couldn’t help herself laughing at his exaggerations.  He winked.  “So…clone equals Dan.  That’s just about it.  Well, aside from the fact I was dying.  That’s why I told you no one need die.  But I didn’t want to mention the fact that my body was failing.  I didn’t want to influence your decision too badly.  Just because no one dies doesn’t mean that loss isn’t present.  The Doctor doesn’t exist anymore, not as he did, because it’s more me instead.  I kept myself going-barely-for you, ‘cos I didn’t want to miss seeing your face-again and again and again.  But sooner or later I would’ve died.  It’d be all right, because I could regenerate, but after everything that was going on I’m not sure how much longer after that I could’ve lasted.”

At her blank look, he looked completely surprised.  “Ooohhhh, right, I haven’t explained regeneration.  Silly of me.  Time Lords, okay, have fourteen lives, which is thirteen regenerations.  A regeneration is…basically…um, when a Time Lord is close to death, they can activate a transformation process.  It changes every single cell in our bodies, so our appearance is different, and a bit of our personality.  But there’s still something the same-it’s not as if, suddenly, we’re a different person.  It’s something to do with the fact, they theorize, that the soul remains the same.  And we’ve had some practical dealings with souls, with the Wheel, you know…”  He trailed off, and laughed briefly at himself.  “Ha.  Anyway…So…that’s something else for you to think about.  But no Gallifreyan clone has ever lasted more than five regenerations.  And they start failing, quicker and quicker, so I probably wouldn’t have lasted very long at all.  It’s probably the adventure I get into-all the pain, the excitement, and et cetera.  I know a few on Gallifrey that lost their lives after a couple thousand years to old age.  That’s definitely not me-it’s only ever been painful for me, but…you know….you know what I’m like.  I attract trouble!”  He was grinning enthusiastically, not at all put out by this fact.  “But now I’m…I’m the real Doctor, so I’ll live.  And in another department, I’ve started all over again.  Last time, before I used the Chameleon Arch, I was on my tenth life.  I’m now back to Square One-I’m on my first life with the memory of eight previous regenerations and a previous over-a-thousand-years, even though I’m really only about three weeks old.”

Martha had trouble taking it all in, and the last sentence was the only thing she could really latch onto.  “Three…weeks?  I’ve fallen in love with a three-week old…I’ve kissed….”

He was grinning infectiously.  “Yeah, but it was a brilliant kiss.  Just think of it like before-I was over a thousand and you’re, what, thirty some?  It’s just about the same proportionately.  And when you’re a Time Lord, age seems to matter less, just ‘cos you’re living so much longer.  I mean, it starts getting that way with you lot, millions of years in the future.”

She just shook her head, still overwhelmed by what she’d been told.  Maybe a second of giving her brain a rest would help.  She closed her eyes and let her mind go, listening to the calming sound of the water splashing over rocks in the river-wherever that was in here.  When she opened her eyes again, the Doctor was still there-still younger, she noted-and, strangely, sun was filtering through to the forest floor.  Where the microenvironment was getting sunlight from, she thought, amused, she didn’t need to know.  And, as usual, her brain hadn’t let her down, giving her the inquisitive outlook that gave her an-almost-even footing with her beloved Doctor.  “Wait.  The only reason you snogged me was because your genes dictated that you should?”  She didn’t know whether to clap her hands like a little schoolgirl or to feel vaguely insulted.

“Well, that’s what happens anyway!  Attraction is largely a matter of chemical reactions brought on by hormones, you know.”  That great big smile was still plastered all over his face.  After a second, when that remark hadn’t gotten the effect he was seeking, he turned serious, hand coming up to rest on her cheek.  Martha felt tempted to pull the hand away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Her Time Lord kept staring into her eyes, with a serious look that almost scared her.  “Martha…from the minute I first met you, I felt attracted to you.  I never looked at you, not the way you wanted me to, didn’t want to see you because I couldn’t look away if I tried.  Once I saw you, really saw you, there’d be no turning back.  You’d captivate me, and nothing would ever be the same again.  At the same time I needed you, more than I’d admit to myself.  I loved having you on board-so did the TARDIS, by the way, she likes you-and didn’t want you to leave.  I kept stringing out that ‘one trip’, kept hoping you would beg me to go on and I could make a show of giving in.  But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you anything.  I realized, after a while, that you felt the same about me, but in the end, I thought, that’d only cause more heartbreak for us both.  Better I keep you at arm’s length, because you had a family, a life to return to, and the last time I let myself get too close…”  Miss Jones felt irritation run through her, as she could guess which words were coming next.  She wasn’t wrong.  “…to Rose….Well, she’s never gonna get over that, is she?  She’s got a whole life ahead of her, but I’ve completely ruined it.  There might be another bloke out there, for her, but she’s gonna miss a whole lot of fun and laughter and all the stuff you’re supposed to do in life ‘cos she’s gonna be oblivious to it all.  I didn’t want to do that again, not to someone else.  Martha Jones.  I didn’t tell you a thing ‘cos I was protecting you from myself.”

The heartsache in his voice was plain to hear, as was the pain etched on every feature.  He was trying not to cry, that much was obvious, and what he thought of himself made her almost want to start crying too.  She hadn’t thought herself good enough for him, sometimes, when she’d just shut herself up in her room in the TARDIS and cried her eyes out, but other times she’d thought herself well worthy, more so than Rose, whom she’d worked up to be really, really jealous of.  She reached out to hold his other hand, and he smiled sadly at her in thanks.

“Martha, every time I’m talking about Rose, or those moments when you think I am-it’s not just Rose.  It’s every companion I’ve ever lost, every single one.  Everyone that’s ever traveled in the TARDIS takes a bit of my hearts with them when I leave.  Admittedly, I’ve got two, so that gives me a little more to give away, but I’m still surprised there’s anything left.  I love too easily, you know. That’s my problem.  I don’t mean to get attached, or involved in major events, or anything.  It just sort of happens.  And escalates.  That seems to happen a lot.  And when you first left, oh, I cried.  I think it was a day straight, but the good ol’ TARDIS was discreet enough not to tell me how long it’d been.  But in a way, I was happy, ‘cos I hoped that’d meant that I’d done right, that you’d live a long and happy life without me, and that way I hadn’t managed to do the Oncoming Storm thing and damage everything I touch.  All the TARDIS did was to intensify my love for you, so it would hurt-a lot more-to ignore it.  I tried, I really did.  And, obviously, I failed miserably.”  He tried to smile at her, he really did, but his mouth, for once, didn’t seem to want to curve in that way.

Martha couldn’t think of that much to say.  He kept everything so hidden-she supposed that, like with this, if he let his emotions out, let the guilty secrets they were hiding be dragged into the light, he couldn’t handle it and would fall apart.  She finally settled for, “Oh, Doctor,” and leaned into him for a kiss.

It wasn’t like their other kisses-more bittersweet than anything.  She still felt the hot pleasure at the touch of his lips on hers, felt the joy at having him so close spread through her system.  But at the same time, she felt his agony, the torture of his decision, as if it was her own.  She felt the tears-his tears-run down her face and drip, one by one, onto her jacket, but she didn’t care, not now.  He needed her, so much more than she’d ever thought he could or would.  He needed a reminder that she cared, that she’d be there for him for however long he needed her company.  And the feeling was new, something that would never have occurred to her.  She thought seeing him cry would tear her apart, and it was, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought-because he loved her and needed her and the kiss was there to take away the pain.  She was there for him, and he was finally allowing her to share his burden, to help him heal, and that she’d wanted more than anything.

She let him pull away, though she never wanted the kiss to end.  Maybe he just needed a bit of time to lick his wounds.  “Heart’s desire,” he joked, eyes still welling over, though he wiped them away with the back of his hands.  Martha smiled encouragingly at him, and in a moment he’d lost it and embraced her tightly, crying more loudly.

She didn’t know how long they remained there, but he needed it, and he’d pull himself together, with her help.  Eventually.

At last, he sat back and smiled weakly.  “Wow.  That was…intense.  I didn’t even cry at the Fall of Gallifrey, you know.  And you’ve been able to get it out.”  He sighed and stretched.  “Well…That takes care of one thing, I suppose.  Time to move on.  We’ve got a Family to sort out.”

Martha laughed, and in a moment she was happier than she’d ever been.  The Doctor was back-he was himself-and he loved her.  It was a miracle, but she wasn’t about to argue with it.  Not when she was enjoying it this much-and not when he was having the time of his life with her by his side.