[Martha] Settling In?
Who: Martha
Where: Outside her shelter
When: Day 36, Night, During Psi Corps 101
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete
Martha's relief at the lack of mother-henning from the Doctor was short lived. She wheedled the files from him, with a promise to return them to Nine once she was done, and sent the Doctor off to play with himself. According to her useless, unable to get a signal, even though it could call across time and space, mobile that had been two hours ago. She wasn't lonely per se, or strictly missing him, but her review of Daisy Adair's and Ami Jackson's files left her with a bad taste in her mouth and a creeping feeling along her spine. Mingled in with it was repulsion, horror and a strong sense of wanting to right a few wrongs.
She fiddled with the LED torch the Doctor "discovered" in his pocket and left her to read by, while her eyes scanned the camp. Laughter drifted across the camp, carrying with it camaraderie and friendship. Though she met and introduced herself to a great many people, loneliness crept up on her. With darkness all around, the empty - and filled - shelters standing like sentries, it was hard to ignore that she and the Doctor were the strangers in the strange land.
It was also hard to ignore her worries about her own health, nagging thoughts that crept up to instill panic within Martha's chest. The swim brought her fever down, but it hadn't broken. Her intermittent chills told her that it was on the rise again.
(The TARDIS will know what's wrong with me,) Martha told herself for the millionth time.
She tucked the folders into the shelter and out of sight. Back outside, under the starry sky, Martha fashioned her jacket into a pillow and lie staring up at the stars.
And trying not to think about what experiments might have been done on her and what would happen if even the TARDIS had no answers.
Where: Outside her shelter
When: Day 36, Night, During Psi Corps 101
Invited: Anyone
Status: Complete
Martha's relief at the lack of mother-henning from the Doctor was short lived. She wheedled the files from him, with a promise to return them to Nine once she was done, and sent the Doctor off to play with himself. According to her useless, unable to get a signal, even though it could call across time and space, mobile that had been two hours ago. She wasn't lonely per se, or strictly missing him, but her review of Daisy Adair's and Ami Jackson's files left her with a bad taste in her mouth and a creeping feeling along her spine. Mingled in with it was repulsion, horror and a strong sense of wanting to right a few wrongs.
She fiddled with the LED torch the Doctor "discovered" in his pocket and left her to read by, while her eyes scanned the camp. Laughter drifted across the camp, carrying with it camaraderie and friendship. Though she met and introduced herself to a great many people, loneliness crept up on her. With darkness all around, the empty - and filled - shelters standing like sentries, it was hard to ignore that she and the Doctor were the strangers in the strange land.
It was also hard to ignore her worries about her own health, nagging thoughts that crept up to instill panic within Martha's chest. The swim brought her fever down, but it hadn't broken. Her intermittent chills told her that it was on the rise again.
(The TARDIS will know what's wrong with me,) Martha told herself for the millionth time.
She tucked the folders into the shelter and out of sight. Back outside, under the starry sky, Martha fashioned her jacket into a pillow and lie staring up at the stars.
And trying not to think about what experiments might have been done on her and what would happen if even the TARDIS had no answers.