DOCTOR WHO: Seeing the Obvious
Title: Seeing the Obvious
Characters/Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Martha
Word Count: 186
Rating: Worksafe
Summary: Martha walks out, and the Doctor feels like all the breath's been knocked out of him.
Notes: Written for comment_fic. Yes, I am a little obsessed with that last scene in LotTL.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all characters belong to the BBC. I am not affiliated with the BBC, and am not making any money from this.
Martha walks out, and the Doctor feels like all the breath's been knocked out of him.
He reaches for the controls to set the TARDIS in flight, habit guiding him while his mind's still whirling. He'd been ignoring that uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach since they left the Valiant, hoping it would go away, hoping he was wrong. Hoping if he could just talk fast enough, smile hard enough, maybe...
Right now they should be flying off to somewhere warm and beautiful, where no one's ever heard of Harold Saxon or the Master or Toclafane, where no one even thinks of the end of the universe. Instead, the TARDIS is empty, and it's echoed by a dull, hollow ache in his chest, like something's been torn out when he didn't even realize it was there to be lost in the first place. He can't shake the bitter feeling that the universe might be laughing at him, somehow - he only just got her back, and now she's walking out just as he learned to see what's always been in front of his face.
Characters/Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Martha
Word Count: 186
Rating: Worksafe
Summary: Martha walks out, and the Doctor feels like all the breath's been knocked out of him.
Notes: Written for comment_fic. Yes, I am a little obsessed with that last scene in LotTL.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all characters belong to the BBC. I am not affiliated with the BBC, and am not making any money from this.
Martha walks out, and the Doctor feels like all the breath's been knocked out of him.
He reaches for the controls to set the TARDIS in flight, habit guiding him while his mind's still whirling. He'd been ignoring that uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach since they left the Valiant, hoping it would go away, hoping he was wrong. Hoping if he could just talk fast enough, smile hard enough, maybe...
Right now they should be flying off to somewhere warm and beautiful, where no one's ever heard of Harold Saxon or the Master or Toclafane, where no one even thinks of the end of the universe. Instead, the TARDIS is empty, and it's echoed by a dull, hollow ache in his chest, like something's been torn out when he didn't even realize it was there to be lost in the first place. He can't shake the bitter feeling that the universe might be laughing at him, somehow - he only just got her back, and now she's walking out just as he learned to see what's always been in front of his face.