Doctor Who Ficlet: Never Rose
Title: Never Rose
Fandom: Doctor Who
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Martha Jones, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Smith And Jones, The Sound Of Drums/Last Of The Time Lords.
Summary: Falling for the Doctor was never going to work out for Martha, simply because she wasn’t Rose.
Word Count: 697
Written For: withasmile87’s prompt ‘Doctor Who, Ten/Martha Jones, She was never Rose,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
From the moment she’d met him, Martha had started to fall for the Doctor. Hard. It was impossible not to, he was just so… alive, amazing, extraordinary, out of this world. Literally. There must have been at least a thousand other adjectives she could have used to describe him on top of those, but they all added up to one thing; there was nobody else like him on earth, and possibly not off earth either. Abandoning her life to go travelling with him was a no-brainer, especially since his time machine could bring her back so close to the time she left that nobody would be aware she’d even gone anywhere.
There was just one snag, but she didn’t learn about that until it was already far too late for her heart.
The thing was, Martha knew the Doctor liked her, he wouldn’t have invited her to travel with him if he didn’t. She thought he probably even cared about her in a way, enough to want to keep her safe. But as time passed, she became painfully aware that friendship was the most she would ever get from him, and it was never going to be enough for her.
Loving someone who couldn’t love her back sucked. Of all the people to fall for, why did she have to pick a centuries old alien who was still hung up on the previous woman in his life? He had two hearts, but couldn’t spare even one for her. They both belonged completely and utterly to Rose.
Everything was always about Rose. The other girl was almost a palpable presence in the TARDIS, never visible but definitely felt, if only by her absence. Martha was right there, warm and alive, but the Doctor didn’t see her because she wasn’t Rose and never would be. The spectre of Rose Tyler would always come between them, like a possessive lover, ensuring that the Doctor would forever remain true to his lost love.
Martha couldn’t fight a ghost, so she took what she could get, the adventure, the friendship, because they were at least friends, the excitement, and danger and awe, and for a while it was almost enough. Almost. They travelled the universe, and back and forth in time, saw sights Martha knew would live with her for the rest of her life, and in spite of her forever unrequited feelings for him, it was brilliant!
But then came the Year That Never Was; a year she spent mostly alone, walking the earth, spreading stories of the Doctor to anyone who would listen, carrying out her part of the Time Lord’s plan while cities burned around her, and people were slaughtered by the thousand. Images of the suffering and devastation she witnessed were seared indelibly into her mind. She saw them every time she closed her eyes, relived them in her dreams and nightmares.
And when it was finally over, when time had been rewound, the earth and its people restored as if nothing had ever happened to them, and she was once again with her family aboard the Valiant, the Doctor had been more concerned for the Master, the one responsible for all the destruction and torture, than for those who had suffered at his hands. If she had been Rose and not herself, Martha wondered, would the Doctor have listened to her then? Would he have turned his incredible compassion towards the victims instead of the perpetrator? She had no way of knowing.
But there was one thing she did know; she couldn’t remain on the TARDIS any longer. Not now, not after everything she and her family had been through. She had to move on even though the Doctor seemed unable to. She couldn’t go on wasting her life, waiting for the Doctor to let go of the past and accept all she could offer him; she had her own life to live, and it was time she got on with that. The Doctor didn’t need her anymore, and truth be told he probably never had; perhaps he would be better off left alone with his memories. She hoped they’d bring him the happiness she never could.
The End
Fandom: Doctor Who
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Martha Jones, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Smith And Jones, The Sound Of Drums/Last Of The Time Lords.
Summary: Falling for the Doctor was never going to work out for Martha, simply because she wasn’t Rose.
Word Count: 697
Written For: withasmile87’s prompt ‘Doctor Who, Ten/Martha Jones, She was never Rose,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
From the moment she’d met him, Martha had started to fall for the Doctor. Hard. It was impossible not to, he was just so… alive, amazing, extraordinary, out of this world. Literally. There must have been at least a thousand other adjectives she could have used to describe him on top of those, but they all added up to one thing; there was nobody else like him on earth, and possibly not off earth either. Abandoning her life to go travelling with him was a no-brainer, especially since his time machine could bring her back so close to the time she left that nobody would be aware she’d even gone anywhere.
There was just one snag, but she didn’t learn about that until it was already far too late for her heart.
The thing was, Martha knew the Doctor liked her, he wouldn’t have invited her to travel with him if he didn’t. She thought he probably even cared about her in a way, enough to want to keep her safe. But as time passed, she became painfully aware that friendship was the most she would ever get from him, and it was never going to be enough for her.
Loving someone who couldn’t love her back sucked. Of all the people to fall for, why did she have to pick a centuries old alien who was still hung up on the previous woman in his life? He had two hearts, but couldn’t spare even one for her. They both belonged completely and utterly to Rose.
Everything was always about Rose. The other girl was almost a palpable presence in the TARDIS, never visible but definitely felt, if only by her absence. Martha was right there, warm and alive, but the Doctor didn’t see her because she wasn’t Rose and never would be. The spectre of Rose Tyler would always come between them, like a possessive lover, ensuring that the Doctor would forever remain true to his lost love.
Martha couldn’t fight a ghost, so she took what she could get, the adventure, the friendship, because they were at least friends, the excitement, and danger and awe, and for a while it was almost enough. Almost. They travelled the universe, and back and forth in time, saw sights Martha knew would live with her for the rest of her life, and in spite of her forever unrequited feelings for him, it was brilliant!
But then came the Year That Never Was; a year she spent mostly alone, walking the earth, spreading stories of the Doctor to anyone who would listen, carrying out her part of the Time Lord’s plan while cities burned around her, and people were slaughtered by the thousand. Images of the suffering and devastation she witnessed were seared indelibly into her mind. She saw them every time she closed her eyes, relived them in her dreams and nightmares.
And when it was finally over, when time had been rewound, the earth and its people restored as if nothing had ever happened to them, and she was once again with her family aboard the Valiant, the Doctor had been more concerned for the Master, the one responsible for all the destruction and torture, than for those who had suffered at his hands. If she had been Rose and not herself, Martha wondered, would the Doctor have listened to her then? Would he have turned his incredible compassion towards the victims instead of the perpetrator? She had no way of knowing.
But there was one thing she did know; she couldn’t remain on the TARDIS any longer. Not now, not after everything she and her family had been through. She had to move on even though the Doctor seemed unable to. She couldn’t go on wasting her life, waiting for the Doctor to let go of the past and accept all she could offer him; she had her own life to live, and it was time she got on with that. The Doctor didn’t need her anymore, and truth be told he probably never had; perhaps he would be better off left alone with his memories. She hoped they’d bring him the happiness she never could.
The End