Song of the Stars
Title: Song of the Stars
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Tenth Doctor friendship, Original Companion
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor needs Martha's help.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is a sequel to my fic Zero She Flies - and um, there's going to be a third story in this AU 'verse.
~~~~~~
Six months after Martha's 30th birthday
Martha was enjoying a long hot soak after a frantic day with UNIT, trying to deal with a herd of Roditore, vicious, smelly, rodent-like creatures the size of a Yorkie dog, that had invaded a large area of Surrey. She was lying back in the sandalwood scented bubbles, feeling her muscles relax when her doorbell rang.
"Oh typical," she muttered under her breath as she pulled herself upright and grabbed the towel. She quickly rubbed herself dry as much as possible, then grabbed her bathrobe as the doorbell rang again.
"All right, all right, I'm coming," she said crossly as she found her slippers and got the bathroom door open.
By the time she reached the last few stairs someone was pounding on the front door as if they intended to break it down.
"I'm coming!" she yelled as she reached the bottom of the staircase.
She threw open the door intending to give whoever was on the other side an earful, but her angry words died on her lips as she saw a dark-haired, stocky young man in jeans, a white t-shirt and a denim jacket standing on her doorstep, with someone slung over his shoulder. Someone in a very familiar blue suit and red Converse.
"Are you Doctor Jones?" asked the young man urgently.
"Yes, what happened?" she asked, equally urgently.
"Can I come in?" he countered.
"Of course." Martha stepped back, opening the door wider, and watched worriedly as he manoeuvred himself and his burden through the door.
She quickly shut the door. "Down the hall, first door on the right," she said.
The young man followed her directions and she hurried after him. "What happened?" she asked again, as he lowered the unconscious Time Lord down onto her sofa.
"We were on a space station, out in the Sunflower Galaxy," he told her. "There were some aliens there, they wanted to take it over, we tried to stop them, and he got hurt."
"There's a first aid kit in my kitchen, next door along the hall from here," Martha told him. "Fetch it please?"
She bent over the Doctor, feeling tears come into her eyes. "What have you been doing now?" she asked him softly as she began to ease his torn and burnt jacket off him.
Opening his equally torn and burnt shirt she found two large burns, one on his upper left arm and one across his chest. She winced at the sight, then grabbed a pair of scissors from the coffee table and began to cut his shirt free. She glanced up as the young man came back carrying the first aid kit.
"How long's he been unconscious?" She took the kit from him and opened it up, sorting out the things she needed.
"Since shortly after we left the space station, about half an hour?" the young man answered. "He said he was going to come to you for medical assistance. He managed to program in the coordinates, and then he just collapsed."
"Where's the TARDIS?" asked Martha.
"On your drive outside, why?"
"Because it'd be best if we took him back to the ship, to the Med Bay. There's medical equipment in there that I can use, since we can't take him to a regular hospital."
"Hadn't you better get dressed then?" he said awkwardly.
She nodded distractedly. "Can you take him back to the TARDIS, and I'll be there as quick as I can?"
"OK."
"What's your name, by the way?" Martha asked from the doorway.
"Nick."
"Nice to meet you Nick." She didn't give him a chance to answer as she hurried out and back upstairs.
She let the bath water out, then dried herself properly before hurrying into her bedroom to dress. A few minutes later she let herself into the TARDIS and ran through the corridors to the Med Bay, murmuring words of praise and gratitude to the ship as she realised the Med Bay had been moved fairly close to the Control Room.
"Are you squeamish?" Martha asked Nick as she hurried through the door.
"No."
"Good. You can be my nurse."
She turned to pull a gown from the back of the door, missing Nick's look of shock at her comment.
"Come and scrub up," she said, moving towards the sink.
A few minutes later he found himself holding items for Martha as she worked to treat the Doctor's burns.
"I never thought I'd get to meet you," he said as he handed over a dressing.
She shot him a quick look. "What do you mean?"
"He's talked a lot about you in the last two days."
Martha suppressed a groan. "Does he never learn?" she asked rhetorically.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind," she answered distractedly as she ran her fingers down the Doctor's ribcage. She grabbed the arm of the X-ray device and pulled it across to check for damage.
"He saved my life," Nick said.
"Yeah, he does that." She noted that two of the Time Lord's ribs were cracked.
"But he leapt in front of the lasers, pushed me aside," Nick said. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for him."
"Be grateful you're not, then," she answered as she began removing the Doctor's shoes.
"I never expected this. He said he'd take me to meet Shakespeare. That's how I met him, I was doing Hamlet in Stratford, and we bumped into each other outside the theatre. And he asked would I like to meet the man himself. I thought he was mad."
"So how did you end up on a space station then?" Martha asked. She'd got the Doctor's shoes and socks off, and was undoing his trousers.
"I'm not sure," Nick answered. He averted his eyes as the young woman got the Time Lord's trousers off.
She hissed a breath through her teeth when she saw the long, ugly tear across his left thigh. She quickly began to clean it up, wondering if the muscles had been damaged. "I'm going to have to stitch this," she observed.
"And then can I go?"
Martha's head jerked up. "What?"
"Can I go, when you've done that? Only, I'm meant to be in Stratford." He looked awkward in the face of her amazed stare.
"You can go now, if you'd prefer," she said coldly. "I can manage now."
"Right. Well, nice meeting you." He held out his hand and she looked from it to her own hands in their surgical gloves.
"Have a nice trip." She turned her attention back to the Doctor, hearing Nick shuffle out. She thought she was probably being unfair to him, but she couldn't help it; her anxiety about the Doctor outweighed any inclination she might have had to mollycoddle a stranger.
* * * * * *
Forty five minutes after Nick and the Doctor had arrived on her doorstep, Martha stripped off her gloves and gown, then stretched painfully. She'd done everything that she could for his injuries, the rest was up to him and the TARDIS.
She squeezed his right hand where it lay on top of the sheet she'd covered him with, then headed to the kitchen for some coffee. She had no idea how long he'd be unconscious, but she knew that she didn't want to leave him alone on board the TARDIS, even whilst it was parked in her drive. She fished in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her mobile, deciding she had better ring the Brigadier and her mother to let them both know what was going on.
When Martha rang, the Brigadier offered to have the Doctor moved to UNIT HQ, but she pointed out that there wasn't any equipment in their infirmary that the TARDIS didn't already possess, and that the Time Lord's bond with his ship would ensure he healed more quickly there than anywhere else.
When she spoke to her mother, Francine offered to come over, but Martha put her off, saying there was little anyone could do except wait for the Doctor to wake up.
"Well give me a ring if you need me," Francine said. "You know we'll help if we can."
"Thanks mum. Give my love to dad."
"I will."
Martha stopped in the Library on the way back to the Med Bay, and picked up a book on Gallifreyan medicine that the Doctor had once shown her; she knew the TARDIS would look after him, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared for any possible complications.
* * * * * *
The Doctor surfaced slowly from the black depths in which his mind had been trapped to an awareness of pain. He let out a quiet groan, and a moment later a small hand was clasping his, whilst a second hand stroked across his brow.
"Doctor, can you hear me?"
He half opened his eyes, squinting against the light. "Martha?" he asked, his voice hoarse and his throat sore.
"I'm here," she said softly, giving him a serene smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Horrible," he said apologetically.
"I'm not surprised," she answered. "I'm pretty sure I asked you to take better care of yourself."
He looked embarrassed. "I know, I'm sorry." He peered around Martha. "Where's Nick?"
Her face darkened. "Gone."
He looked at her in surprise. "What happened?"
"Nothing. He asked if he could go home and I said yes because there was no point in him staying if he didn't want to."
"I didn't make a very good judgement call, picking him up," the Time Lord admitted. "I was - well - I was showing off."
Martha noted that he looked embarrassed again. "Nothing new there then," she teased gently, a smile on her face.
He shook his head slightly. "You'd think after all this time I'd know better."
"I don't think you'd be you if you didn't show off," she observed. "Do you want something to eat or some tea?"
"I could murder a cuppa," he said hopefully.
"I'll be back in a few minutes then." She bent over and kissed his forehead, then moved away.
He watched her go out, then lifted up the sheet that covered him to inspect the damage he'd incurred saving Nick from the Heftige. He ran the fingers of his right hand over the dressings on his chest and shoulder, then down over his ribcage: he could feel the cracked ribs, but knew that they were already healing. There was another dressing across his left thigh, and he winced a little at the realisation of just how close he'd come to losing a certain portion of his anatomy when that bolt had torn across his leg.
"Inspecting my handiwork?" Martha asked from the doorway as she came in carrying a tea tray.
He gave her a smile. "Admiring it," he corrected.
She flushed a little, but he noticed she looked pleased too. "Thanks."
She set the tea tray down on top of an instrument trolley, then raised the head of the bed before passing him a mug of tea.
"Thanks."
"Any idea how long it'll be before you're fit again?" she asked as she picked up her own mug and sat down.
"Trying to get rid of me again already?" he asked, trying for a light tone, but not sure he'd succeeded.
She gave him a look over the rim of her mug. "Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked.
"No," he said softly. "To answer your question, I don't know exactly, but I'd guess a week at the most."
"Then I'll give the Brigadier a ring later and arrange to take some time off."
"You don't need to do that," he protested. "I'll be fine here, if you don't mind the TARDIS on your doorstep."
"I know I don't need to do it," she answered, getting up and crossing to his bedside. "I want to. I haven't seen you for six months, I want to hear what you've been up to, who you've been annoying and running away from." She gave him a smile, her eyes twinkling with merriment.
He set his empty mug on the bed next to him and reached up to grab her hand. "You're a cheeky woman Doctor Jones." He squeezed her fingers.
"Yes, but you like my cheek," she asserted.
"Very true."
"So, why don't you tell me how you came by these injuries? Nick something about a space station in the Sunflower Galaxy, although you'd offered to take him to meet Shakespeare?"
He gave her a wry look and sighed. "You'd better take a seat again because this will take a while."
* * * * * *
It took the Doctor over an hour to explain the sequence of events that had led him and Nick to the Sunflower Galaxy and Martha couldn't help thinking that only he would have ended up in such situation.
"So Nick wasn't a very good Hamlet, and he wasn't a very good travelling companion either?" Martha asked at the end of his recital.
"No." He gave her a familiarly pensive look. "Will you come with me, when I leave?"
"I'll think about it," she said.
He gave her a startled look. "Really?" he asked, trying to fight the surge of hope that filled him. She'd always turned him down outright when he'd asked before, but as he'd told her in the mountains of Opwinden, he always had hope where she was concerned, and that kept him asking.
She got up and crossed to his side and took his right hand in hers. "Really. I'll let you know before you leave."
"Thank you." He blinked back the stinging in his eyes.
"Are you up to eating anything?" Martha asked. "Because I don't know about you, but I'm ravenous after a manic day."
"I can eat," he said cheerfully. "What is it people say? I could eat a horse. Although, not really, you know, because eating horses is just - Ugh!" He shuddered theatrically and Martha knew that he was really just trying to cover his emotional response to her promise.
"Well I'm definitely not cooking you a horse," she said firmly.
He grinned at her, and she shook her head, then grinned back. "I'll be back in a bit."
She went out, leaving him still grinning. He told himself he shouldn't get too excited or hopeful, because she might still turn his invitation down, but it wasn't easy. He missed having her by his side; he missed Donna too, but he knew that she would never travel with him again. Maybe his misadventure with Nick would have unexpectedly good consequences after all.
He closed his eyes and indulging himself in remembering some of their many adventures together.
* * * * * *
Martha wondered if the Doctor had gone to sleep while waiting for her, but he opened his eyes as she approached and smiled, sniffing at the air.
"Something smells good," he said.
"Yeah, well I had to go and raid my kitchen, because yours was practically bare. When was the last time you went shopping?"
He looked slightly sheepish. "I - uh - can't remember," he admitted.
"Honestly, you're such a man sometimes," Martha sighed, but he could see she was struggling not to smile.
She put the tray down on top of the instrument trolley, then set up the table across the bed, before transferring things across. "Here you go."
"Martha Jones, have I mentioned you're a star?"
"Maybe once or twice," she answered, smiling. "Now eat up before it gets cold."
They ate in a companionable silence, both of them too hungry to bother making small talk. When they'd finished, Martha piled up their plates on the tray which she put out in the corridor, then slumped back in the chair.
"So what have you been up to since we last met?" asked the Doctor.
"Well today I was chasing alien rodents," she answered, pulling a wry face.
"Go on."
So she told him about the Roditore, and then about all the other aliens and the medical issues she'd had to deal with in the previous six months. By the time she'd finished, she was yawning.
"Go to bed," the Doctor said. "Do you want to sleep here? The TARDIS will have got your old room ready."
"I think I will, just to be on the safe side," Martha answered, stifling another yawn.
"Sleep well then."
She pulled herself from her chair and crossed to his bedside, taking his hand in hers. "Sleep well yourself," she said softly, dropping a kiss on his forehead and squeezing his fingers.
She made her way to her room and found that, just as the Time Lord had predicted, the TARDIS had prepared it for her; there was a scent of jasmine in the air, and the lights were turned down low. The ship had even provided a pair of pyjamas, dark blue with silver stars on them. Martha changed quickly, then slid into the bed, reaching out to pat the wall beside her.
"Thank you, old friend."
* * * * * *
It was four days before the Doctor was able to get up and walk about; he'd tried getting out of bed on the second day and found his left leg wasn't strong enough to support him yet. Martha had been in the kitchen when she heard the crash as he'd fallen, pulling over the instrument trolley at the same time.
"You just don't listen, do you?" she chided as she helped him up from the floor and back into the bed.
He muttered something she couldn't hear, and she wisely didn't ask him to repeat it.
"Where were you trying to go?"
"Bathroom," he answered, flushing with embarrassment.
She shook her head in resignation. "Well you know what they say, pride comes before a fall."
He scowled and looked away.
"Doctor why are you risking permanent damage to your leg when you know I can help you?"
"You shouldn't have to do this," he said, sounding petulant. "You're a qualified doctor, not a nurse or a skivvy."
"I'm also your friend," she reminded him, "and friends look after each other. Now be sensible, please."
"Sorry." He looked so forlorn that she slid her arms around him and gave him a quick hug, before passing him a bottle.
"Here. Now I must go, or the pasta for dinner will be boiled dry."
Two days later, she carefully helped him out of the bed, his left arm wrapped around her shoulders and her arm around his waist to support him as he put his weight on his left leg.
"You're going to need to do some exercises to strengthen your muscles," Martha warned him as they made their way out of the Med Bay.
"I know," he answered as they headed towards the Control Room. "You realise this means I'll be in your hair for longer than a week?"
Martha stopped in her tracks, pulling him to a standstill, and gave him an admonishing look. "You are not in my hair," she said firmly. "I know you're bored, restless and in pain, but do try to stop feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn’t suit you."
He had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"It's OK." She set off again, knowing how much he wanted to be in the Control Room.
"You're a good friend to me, Martha Jones," he said as they stepped through the archway, the TARDIS having switched her rooms around so that the walk from the Med Bay to the Control Room wasn't too long. "I don't deserve your steadfast friendship."
She helped him settle on the Captain's chair to rest and catch his breath. "Don't go getting maudlin on me," she said lightly. "It doesn't suit you."
He pulled her gently to sit beside him and slid an arm around her shoulders. "I'll do my best," he answered.
"That's all I ask." She leant into him. "I'll soon have you fit to run around and cause trouble, don't you worry."
He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Thank you."
* * * * * *
Martha was true to her word and after a week of her carefully designed exercise programme, the Doctor was quite fit to run about, as they proved by running up and down a good many of the ship's corridors together.
Now he was fit to travel, though, the Time Lord was in no obvious hurry to leave. They were eating lunch in her kitchen after making a trip to the shops to stock up the TARDIS kitchen, and she was half expecting him to start talking about where he was going to go next, but he was unusually silent.
"You OK?" she asked as she cut them both a generous slice of banana and raisin loaf to finish their meal.
"I'm fine," he answered quickly.
"You're very quiet."
"I - " He broke off and stared down at his plate.
"You what?"
The Doctor took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you'd made up your mind yet," he said, not looking up. "About coming with me, I mean."
"Yes I have."
He looked up quickly, hope warring with anxiety in his expression. "And?"
"I'll come with you," she answered. "I don't know how long for, but for the time being, yes."
"Really?" he whispered, as if not daring to believe his ears.
She nodded around a mouthful, chewed then swallowed. "The Brig's agreed to give me an extended leave of absence, said I'd earned it - and I've got a project to work on whilst I'm travelling with you."
"What about your family?" he asked.
"They're OK with it as well. Mum's going to text me every couple of days and I'll ring her back as soon afterwards as it's convenient. She reckons it's time that I did something adventurous again."
He reached out and clasped her hand, smiling like she'd given him the best gift imaginable. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. You'll have to hang around a bit while I pack, but we can be off fairly soon."
* * * * * *
Two hours later they were orbiting Jupiter with the TARDIS doors open so they could sit side by side to watch the intense blue aurora over the planet. The Doctor had suggested that Martha pick their first destination and she'd simply asked him to show her something beautiful; she had to admit it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.
"What's that sound?" she asked softly, her head tilted to one side and a look of intense concentration on her face.
"That's the aurora," he told her, "travellers in this region refer to it as the song of the stars."
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you like it," he answered. "Welcome back aboard Doctor Jones."
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Tenth Doctor friendship, Original Companion
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor needs Martha's help.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is a sequel to my fic Zero She Flies - and um, there's going to be a third story in this AU 'verse.
~~~~~~
Six months after Martha's 30th birthday
Martha was enjoying a long hot soak after a frantic day with UNIT, trying to deal with a herd of Roditore, vicious, smelly, rodent-like creatures the size of a Yorkie dog, that had invaded a large area of Surrey. She was lying back in the sandalwood scented bubbles, feeling her muscles relax when her doorbell rang.
"Oh typical," she muttered under her breath as she pulled herself upright and grabbed the towel. She quickly rubbed herself dry as much as possible, then grabbed her bathrobe as the doorbell rang again.
"All right, all right, I'm coming," she said crossly as she found her slippers and got the bathroom door open.
By the time she reached the last few stairs someone was pounding on the front door as if they intended to break it down.
"I'm coming!" she yelled as she reached the bottom of the staircase.
She threw open the door intending to give whoever was on the other side an earful, but her angry words died on her lips as she saw a dark-haired, stocky young man in jeans, a white t-shirt and a denim jacket standing on her doorstep, with someone slung over his shoulder. Someone in a very familiar blue suit and red Converse.
"Are you Doctor Jones?" asked the young man urgently.
"Yes, what happened?" she asked, equally urgently.
"Can I come in?" he countered.
"Of course." Martha stepped back, opening the door wider, and watched worriedly as he manoeuvred himself and his burden through the door.
She quickly shut the door. "Down the hall, first door on the right," she said.
The young man followed her directions and she hurried after him. "What happened?" she asked again, as he lowered the unconscious Time Lord down onto her sofa.
"We were on a space station, out in the Sunflower Galaxy," he told her. "There were some aliens there, they wanted to take it over, we tried to stop them, and he got hurt."
"There's a first aid kit in my kitchen, next door along the hall from here," Martha told him. "Fetch it please?"
She bent over the Doctor, feeling tears come into her eyes. "What have you been doing now?" she asked him softly as she began to ease his torn and burnt jacket off him.
Opening his equally torn and burnt shirt she found two large burns, one on his upper left arm and one across his chest. She winced at the sight, then grabbed a pair of scissors from the coffee table and began to cut his shirt free. She glanced up as the young man came back carrying the first aid kit.
"How long's he been unconscious?" She took the kit from him and opened it up, sorting out the things she needed.
"Since shortly after we left the space station, about half an hour?" the young man answered. "He said he was going to come to you for medical assistance. He managed to program in the coordinates, and then he just collapsed."
"Where's the TARDIS?" asked Martha.
"On your drive outside, why?"
"Because it'd be best if we took him back to the ship, to the Med Bay. There's medical equipment in there that I can use, since we can't take him to a regular hospital."
"Hadn't you better get dressed then?" he said awkwardly.
She nodded distractedly. "Can you take him back to the TARDIS, and I'll be there as quick as I can?"
"OK."
"What's your name, by the way?" Martha asked from the doorway.
"Nick."
"Nice to meet you Nick." She didn't give him a chance to answer as she hurried out and back upstairs.
She let the bath water out, then dried herself properly before hurrying into her bedroom to dress. A few minutes later she let herself into the TARDIS and ran through the corridors to the Med Bay, murmuring words of praise and gratitude to the ship as she realised the Med Bay had been moved fairly close to the Control Room.
"Are you squeamish?" Martha asked Nick as she hurried through the door.
"No."
"Good. You can be my nurse."
She turned to pull a gown from the back of the door, missing Nick's look of shock at her comment.
"Come and scrub up," she said, moving towards the sink.
A few minutes later he found himself holding items for Martha as she worked to treat the Doctor's burns.
"I never thought I'd get to meet you," he said as he handed over a dressing.
She shot him a quick look. "What do you mean?"
"He's talked a lot about you in the last two days."
Martha suppressed a groan. "Does he never learn?" she asked rhetorically.
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind," she answered distractedly as she ran her fingers down the Doctor's ribcage. She grabbed the arm of the X-ray device and pulled it across to check for damage.
"He saved my life," Nick said.
"Yeah, he does that." She noted that two of the Time Lord's ribs were cracked.
"But he leapt in front of the lasers, pushed me aside," Nick said. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for him."
"Be grateful you're not, then," she answered as she began removing the Doctor's shoes.
"I never expected this. He said he'd take me to meet Shakespeare. That's how I met him, I was doing Hamlet in Stratford, and we bumped into each other outside the theatre. And he asked would I like to meet the man himself. I thought he was mad."
"So how did you end up on a space station then?" Martha asked. She'd got the Doctor's shoes and socks off, and was undoing his trousers.
"I'm not sure," Nick answered. He averted his eyes as the young woman got the Time Lord's trousers off.
She hissed a breath through her teeth when she saw the long, ugly tear across his left thigh. She quickly began to clean it up, wondering if the muscles had been damaged. "I'm going to have to stitch this," she observed.
"And then can I go?"
Martha's head jerked up. "What?"
"Can I go, when you've done that? Only, I'm meant to be in Stratford." He looked awkward in the face of her amazed stare.
"You can go now, if you'd prefer," she said coldly. "I can manage now."
"Right. Well, nice meeting you." He held out his hand and she looked from it to her own hands in their surgical gloves.
"Have a nice trip." She turned her attention back to the Doctor, hearing Nick shuffle out. She thought she was probably being unfair to him, but she couldn't help it; her anxiety about the Doctor outweighed any inclination she might have had to mollycoddle a stranger.
* * * * * *
Forty five minutes after Nick and the Doctor had arrived on her doorstep, Martha stripped off her gloves and gown, then stretched painfully. She'd done everything that she could for his injuries, the rest was up to him and the TARDIS.
She squeezed his right hand where it lay on top of the sheet she'd covered him with, then headed to the kitchen for some coffee. She had no idea how long he'd be unconscious, but she knew that she didn't want to leave him alone on board the TARDIS, even whilst it was parked in her drive. She fished in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her mobile, deciding she had better ring the Brigadier and her mother to let them both know what was going on.
When Martha rang, the Brigadier offered to have the Doctor moved to UNIT HQ, but she pointed out that there wasn't any equipment in their infirmary that the TARDIS didn't already possess, and that the Time Lord's bond with his ship would ensure he healed more quickly there than anywhere else.
When she spoke to her mother, Francine offered to come over, but Martha put her off, saying there was little anyone could do except wait for the Doctor to wake up.
"Well give me a ring if you need me," Francine said. "You know we'll help if we can."
"Thanks mum. Give my love to dad."
"I will."
Martha stopped in the Library on the way back to the Med Bay, and picked up a book on Gallifreyan medicine that the Doctor had once shown her; she knew the TARDIS would look after him, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared for any possible complications.
* * * * * *
The Doctor surfaced slowly from the black depths in which his mind had been trapped to an awareness of pain. He let out a quiet groan, and a moment later a small hand was clasping his, whilst a second hand stroked across his brow.
"Doctor, can you hear me?"
He half opened his eyes, squinting against the light. "Martha?" he asked, his voice hoarse and his throat sore.
"I'm here," she said softly, giving him a serene smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Horrible," he said apologetically.
"I'm not surprised," she answered. "I'm pretty sure I asked you to take better care of yourself."
He looked embarrassed. "I know, I'm sorry." He peered around Martha. "Where's Nick?"
Her face darkened. "Gone."
He looked at her in surprise. "What happened?"
"Nothing. He asked if he could go home and I said yes because there was no point in him staying if he didn't want to."
"I didn't make a very good judgement call, picking him up," the Time Lord admitted. "I was - well - I was showing off."
Martha noted that he looked embarrassed again. "Nothing new there then," she teased gently, a smile on her face.
He shook his head slightly. "You'd think after all this time I'd know better."
"I don't think you'd be you if you didn't show off," she observed. "Do you want something to eat or some tea?"
"I could murder a cuppa," he said hopefully.
"I'll be back in a few minutes then." She bent over and kissed his forehead, then moved away.
He watched her go out, then lifted up the sheet that covered him to inspect the damage he'd incurred saving Nick from the Heftige. He ran the fingers of his right hand over the dressings on his chest and shoulder, then down over his ribcage: he could feel the cracked ribs, but knew that they were already healing. There was another dressing across his left thigh, and he winced a little at the realisation of just how close he'd come to losing a certain portion of his anatomy when that bolt had torn across his leg.
"Inspecting my handiwork?" Martha asked from the doorway as she came in carrying a tea tray.
He gave her a smile. "Admiring it," he corrected.
She flushed a little, but he noticed she looked pleased too. "Thanks."
She set the tea tray down on top of an instrument trolley, then raised the head of the bed before passing him a mug of tea.
"Thanks."
"Any idea how long it'll be before you're fit again?" she asked as she picked up her own mug and sat down.
"Trying to get rid of me again already?" he asked, trying for a light tone, but not sure he'd succeeded.
She gave him a look over the rim of her mug. "Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked.
"No," he said softly. "To answer your question, I don't know exactly, but I'd guess a week at the most."
"Then I'll give the Brigadier a ring later and arrange to take some time off."
"You don't need to do that," he protested. "I'll be fine here, if you don't mind the TARDIS on your doorstep."
"I know I don't need to do it," she answered, getting up and crossing to his bedside. "I want to. I haven't seen you for six months, I want to hear what you've been up to, who you've been annoying and running away from." She gave him a smile, her eyes twinkling with merriment.
He set his empty mug on the bed next to him and reached up to grab her hand. "You're a cheeky woman Doctor Jones." He squeezed her fingers.
"Yes, but you like my cheek," she asserted.
"Very true."
"So, why don't you tell me how you came by these injuries? Nick something about a space station in the Sunflower Galaxy, although you'd offered to take him to meet Shakespeare?"
He gave her a wry look and sighed. "You'd better take a seat again because this will take a while."
* * * * * *
It took the Doctor over an hour to explain the sequence of events that had led him and Nick to the Sunflower Galaxy and Martha couldn't help thinking that only he would have ended up in such situation.
"So Nick wasn't a very good Hamlet, and he wasn't a very good travelling companion either?" Martha asked at the end of his recital.
"No." He gave her a familiarly pensive look. "Will you come with me, when I leave?"
"I'll think about it," she said.
He gave her a startled look. "Really?" he asked, trying to fight the surge of hope that filled him. She'd always turned him down outright when he'd asked before, but as he'd told her in the mountains of Opwinden, he always had hope where she was concerned, and that kept him asking.
She got up and crossed to his side and took his right hand in hers. "Really. I'll let you know before you leave."
"Thank you." He blinked back the stinging in his eyes.
"Are you up to eating anything?" Martha asked. "Because I don't know about you, but I'm ravenous after a manic day."
"I can eat," he said cheerfully. "What is it people say? I could eat a horse. Although, not really, you know, because eating horses is just - Ugh!" He shuddered theatrically and Martha knew that he was really just trying to cover his emotional response to her promise.
"Well I'm definitely not cooking you a horse," she said firmly.
He grinned at her, and she shook her head, then grinned back. "I'll be back in a bit."
She went out, leaving him still grinning. He told himself he shouldn't get too excited or hopeful, because she might still turn his invitation down, but it wasn't easy. He missed having her by his side; he missed Donna too, but he knew that she would never travel with him again. Maybe his misadventure with Nick would have unexpectedly good consequences after all.
He closed his eyes and indulging himself in remembering some of their many adventures together.
* * * * * *
Martha wondered if the Doctor had gone to sleep while waiting for her, but he opened his eyes as she approached and smiled, sniffing at the air.
"Something smells good," he said.
"Yeah, well I had to go and raid my kitchen, because yours was practically bare. When was the last time you went shopping?"
He looked slightly sheepish. "I - uh - can't remember," he admitted.
"Honestly, you're such a man sometimes," Martha sighed, but he could see she was struggling not to smile.
She put the tray down on top of the instrument trolley, then set up the table across the bed, before transferring things across. "Here you go."
"Martha Jones, have I mentioned you're a star?"
"Maybe once or twice," she answered, smiling. "Now eat up before it gets cold."
They ate in a companionable silence, both of them too hungry to bother making small talk. When they'd finished, Martha piled up their plates on the tray which she put out in the corridor, then slumped back in the chair.
"So what have you been up to since we last met?" asked the Doctor.
"Well today I was chasing alien rodents," she answered, pulling a wry face.
"Go on."
So she told him about the Roditore, and then about all the other aliens and the medical issues she'd had to deal with in the previous six months. By the time she'd finished, she was yawning.
"Go to bed," the Doctor said. "Do you want to sleep here? The TARDIS will have got your old room ready."
"I think I will, just to be on the safe side," Martha answered, stifling another yawn.
"Sleep well then."
She pulled herself from her chair and crossed to his bedside, taking his hand in hers. "Sleep well yourself," she said softly, dropping a kiss on his forehead and squeezing his fingers.
She made her way to her room and found that, just as the Time Lord had predicted, the TARDIS had prepared it for her; there was a scent of jasmine in the air, and the lights were turned down low. The ship had even provided a pair of pyjamas, dark blue with silver stars on them. Martha changed quickly, then slid into the bed, reaching out to pat the wall beside her.
"Thank you, old friend."
* * * * * *
It was four days before the Doctor was able to get up and walk about; he'd tried getting out of bed on the second day and found his left leg wasn't strong enough to support him yet. Martha had been in the kitchen when she heard the crash as he'd fallen, pulling over the instrument trolley at the same time.
"You just don't listen, do you?" she chided as she helped him up from the floor and back into the bed.
He muttered something she couldn't hear, and she wisely didn't ask him to repeat it.
"Where were you trying to go?"
"Bathroom," he answered, flushing with embarrassment.
She shook her head in resignation. "Well you know what they say, pride comes before a fall."
He scowled and looked away.
"Doctor why are you risking permanent damage to your leg when you know I can help you?"
"You shouldn't have to do this," he said, sounding petulant. "You're a qualified doctor, not a nurse or a skivvy."
"I'm also your friend," she reminded him, "and friends look after each other. Now be sensible, please."
"Sorry." He looked so forlorn that she slid her arms around him and gave him a quick hug, before passing him a bottle.
"Here. Now I must go, or the pasta for dinner will be boiled dry."
Two days later, she carefully helped him out of the bed, his left arm wrapped around her shoulders and her arm around his waist to support him as he put his weight on his left leg.
"You're going to need to do some exercises to strengthen your muscles," Martha warned him as they made their way out of the Med Bay.
"I know," he answered as they headed towards the Control Room. "You realise this means I'll be in your hair for longer than a week?"
Martha stopped in her tracks, pulling him to a standstill, and gave him an admonishing look. "You are not in my hair," she said firmly. "I know you're bored, restless and in pain, but do try to stop feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn’t suit you."
He had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"It's OK." She set off again, knowing how much he wanted to be in the Control Room.
"You're a good friend to me, Martha Jones," he said as they stepped through the archway, the TARDIS having switched her rooms around so that the walk from the Med Bay to the Control Room wasn't too long. "I don't deserve your steadfast friendship."
She helped him settle on the Captain's chair to rest and catch his breath. "Don't go getting maudlin on me," she said lightly. "It doesn't suit you."
He pulled her gently to sit beside him and slid an arm around her shoulders. "I'll do my best," he answered.
"That's all I ask." She leant into him. "I'll soon have you fit to run around and cause trouble, don't you worry."
He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Thank you."
* * * * * *
Martha was true to her word and after a week of her carefully designed exercise programme, the Doctor was quite fit to run about, as they proved by running up and down a good many of the ship's corridors together.
Now he was fit to travel, though, the Time Lord was in no obvious hurry to leave. They were eating lunch in her kitchen after making a trip to the shops to stock up the TARDIS kitchen, and she was half expecting him to start talking about where he was going to go next, but he was unusually silent.
"You OK?" she asked as she cut them both a generous slice of banana and raisin loaf to finish their meal.
"I'm fine," he answered quickly.
"You're very quiet."
"I - " He broke off and stared down at his plate.
"You what?"
The Doctor took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you'd made up your mind yet," he said, not looking up. "About coming with me, I mean."
"Yes I have."
He looked up quickly, hope warring with anxiety in his expression. "And?"
"I'll come with you," she answered. "I don't know how long for, but for the time being, yes."
"Really?" he whispered, as if not daring to believe his ears.
She nodded around a mouthful, chewed then swallowed. "The Brig's agreed to give me an extended leave of absence, said I'd earned it - and I've got a project to work on whilst I'm travelling with you."
"What about your family?" he asked.
"They're OK with it as well. Mum's going to text me every couple of days and I'll ring her back as soon afterwards as it's convenient. She reckons it's time that I did something adventurous again."
He reached out and clasped her hand, smiling like she'd given him the best gift imaginable. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. You'll have to hang around a bit while I pack, but we can be off fairly soon."
* * * * * *
Two hours later they were orbiting Jupiter with the TARDIS doors open so they could sit side by side to watch the intense blue aurora over the planet. The Doctor had suggested that Martha pick their first destination and she'd simply asked him to show her something beautiful; she had to admit it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.
"What's that sound?" she asked softly, her head tilted to one side and a look of intense concentration on her face.
"That's the aurora," he told her, "travellers in this region refer to it as the song of the stars."
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you like it," he answered. "Welcome back aboard Doctor Jones."