Regeneration (2/2)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/427153.html">Regeneration (2/2) by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha, the Doctor, the TARDIS, Sarah Jane, Liz, Clyde, Rani, Harry Sullivan | Rating: PG-13 | Spoilers: S1 - S4)
Title: Regeneration
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, the Doctor, the TARDIS, Sarah Jane, Liz, Clyde, Rani, Harry Sullivan
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S1 - S4 (Mild)
Warning: Character deaths
Summary: A battle-worn TARDIS brings a dying Eighth Doctor from the Time War to Martha for her help through his regeneration.
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine!
Author Notes: I have no idea where this plot bunny sprang from! It's set about 5 years after Journey's End for Martha. I figure the TARDIS, being linked to the Doctor's mind, is as capable of seeing the future as the Doctor himself, therefore she'd know of his meeting with Martha even though it hadn't yet happened in his personal timeline. Though this is not a shippy fic, the pairings are: Martha/Mickey, Sarah Jane/Harry, Liz/Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, and Clyde/Rani.
Beta-readers: abstruse_fangrl and catholicphoton
Part 1
~~~~~~
* * * * * *
The Doctor was once again floating in mid-air as Martha opened the door to the Zero Room, but he lifted his head as the two women entered, then he lowered his legs so that he was standing up.
"Liz Shaw," he said, sounding delighted.
"Hello Doctor." She walked over, and he immediately held out his arms to her, wrapping her in a hug as Martha approached.
"Well, well, look at you," said the Time Lord, holding her by the shoulders. "Every inch the professor. Congratulations."
Liz laughed softly. "Thank you. I must say, you don't much look like you're dying."
The Doctor's expression sobered. "You know what they say, Liz: Never judge a book by its cover."
"You do look better than when you arrived, though," Martha observed quietly. "Your eyes are no longer bloodshot, and you've got a full head of hair again." He looked surprised by this, and ran a hand through his curly hair as she continued. "You also sound healthier - it was quite obvious, when you first arrived, that your lungs were full of smoke."
"Nevertheless," he said quietly. "I am dying by degrees."
"How long until you regenerate?" asked Liz.
"I don't know exactly," he answered. "Probably within the next twenty four hours, thirty six at the outside." His gaze was still fixed on Liz. "Martha told me about Alistair. I'm sorry."
She gave him a half smile. "Thank you. We had ten wonderful years together, though - and I'd never imagined that, back when we were all at UNIT together."
"I'm glad you were happy."
Martha noticed that he was suddenly looking weary again. "We should leave you in peace," she suggested. "I'd hate for your regeneration to be delayed because we kept bothering you."
"You don't bother me," he said softly. "But yes, I should probably get some more rest." He hugged Liz again. "Take care of yourself, Professor Shaw."
"And you, Doctor." She kissed his cheek, then moved away.
"I brought you some sandwiches and some more tea," Martha said, holding out the box and the thermos.
"Thank you." He accepted them both from her, putting them on the floor by his feet, then took her hands in his. "Would you mind staying in the TARDIS tonight? I can get her to sort out a bedroom for you."
"I think the TARDIS has enough to do, repairing the damage she received, without creating a bedroom for me. I can sleep in here, if you don't mind me being here."
He frowned. "How badly damaged is the TARDIS?"
"Pretty bad," Martha answered. "At least, there was quite a lot of wreckage in the corridors between the Control Room and here, and in the Control Room itself."
"I hadn't realised the old girl was so badly damaged."
"Well you were out of it when Sarah Jane and Harry brought you here," Martha observed.
"True." He sighed. "Anyway, I don't mind you being in here, if you can make yourself comfortable. I don't really anticipate needing your help, but it would comfort me to know there's someone competent nearby."
She ducked her head, slightly embarrassed by his words. "I'll come back in a bit," she promised. "Do you want anything else in the way of food, or anything?"
"No, thank you." He squeezed her fingers, then released her hands, and she joined Liz at the door.
As Martha closed the door to the Zero Room behind them, she glanced back and saw the Doctor was again floating in mid air.
"Are you okay?" Liz asked as they made their way back to the Control Room.
"Yeah, just a bit worried about the Doctor. According to the books he sent me, regeneration is generally a private thing, and most Time Lords prefer to regenerate in the safety of their home with family members around them. As far as I can work out, the Doctor's unusual in that regard."
Liz laughed softly. "As far as I can tell, the Doctor's the most unusual Time Lord ever. You know his own people exiled him, and forced a regeneration on him?"
"That was when you met him, wasn't it?" Martha asked, leading the way back into the house.
"Yes. Poor Alistair didn't know what to make of the situation."
"I bet." Martha made some coffee, which they took through to the sitting room; Liz needed very little encouragement to talk about her UNIT days, and Martha listened in fascination.
"I ought to let you get some rest," the older woman said when Martha stifled a yawn with an apology.
"Given how much sleep I had last night after Harry gave me that sedative, you'd think I'd be less ready for bed this early," she observed.
"But I bet you haven't been sleeping well since Sunday," Liz said, getting to her feet. "I know I didn't after Alistair died - and his death wasn't even a huge shock, like Mickey's."
"Yeah."
Liz gave Martha a hug. "Let me know if you need me for anything," she said.
"I will, thanks." Martha returned the hug, then let Liz out of the house. She put their coffee mugs into the dish washer and turned it on, then made a fresh thermos of tea for the Doctor, before heading out to the TARDIS.
She paused in the doorway of the ship to stare in amazement at the Control Room: it was looking more like the one she had known; the console was still off to the right of the doors, but there were now coral struts growing here and there around the room.
Martha picked up the blankets which she had brought with her when she'd come in earlier, and headed back to the Zero Room, where she found the Doctor sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, eating the sandwiches she'd brought.
"Hello," he said, looking up with a smile.
"I brought you some more tea," Martha said, smiling in return. She noticed that he was looking considerably healthier than when he'd first arrived, and a good deal more attractive, although she immediately banished that thought as unworthy of Mickey.
"Thank you." He patted the floor next to where he sat, and she smiled again, then sat down beside him. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," she answered. "Thank you for letting me come and share the Zero Room with you - I definitely feel better for it."
"I'm glad to hear it." He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his velvet jacket, then sat down again, cross-legged this time. "It seems to me that you could do with some sleep, so why don't you make yourself comfortable?"
Martha unfolded the blankets and spread them out on the floor, then lay down.
"Good. I'm going to tell you a story," the Doctor said.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't I a little old for bedtime stories?"
"No one is ever too old for a story, at bedtime or any other time."
She laughed softly. "Very well, then. I'm all ears."
"Good, then I'll begin."
* * * * * *
Martha fell asleep with the Doctor's soothing voice recounting mythological tales from Gallifrey easing her into her dreams, but it was the Time Lord's dreaming that woke her several hours later. She sat bolt upright, her heart racing, as a second cry of agony echoed around the room, but the more unnerving moment was when she got up and saw that he was floating in mid air, a peaceful expression on his face. Even as she moved over to his side there came a third cry - but the Doctor's mouth hadn't opened, and that was when she realised that the cries were in her head, not in the Zero Room.
She took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers gently. "Doctor."
His eyes snapped open and he gave her a startled look. "Martha?"
"Sorry to disturb you, but you were screaming in my head."
"Oh Martha, I am sorry." He lowered his feet to the floor and put his arms around her. "I should have realised that there was a good chance you'd be somewhat telepathically receptive in here."
She felt his hand rubbing up and down her back as she held him, and allowed herself to relax. "It's okay, it just unnerved me a bit to hear you screaming and yet you seemed to be peacefully asleep."
He gave a soft chuckle. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Were you dreaming about the War?" She felt him stiffen and immediately wished she hadn't asked. "Never mind, none of my business," she said quickly. "Sorry."
"Well, I think I've made it your business," he answered. He pulled away from her to look her in the eyes, then led her back across to the blankets where she'd been sleeping.
They sat down again, the Doctor still holding her hand. "What do you know about the War?"
"Only what my Doctor told me," she answered. "He didn't go into great detail about the War itself, but he did tell me about Gallifrey, and the fact that the Daleks were involved in the War with the Time Lords."
"Did I tell you that I was responsible for ending it?" he asked.
Martha gave him a sharp look. "No, but - " She broke off, considering the implications of this.
"But what?"
"Well, if you ended the War, and I'm assuming you mean that you were the one responsible for destroying Gallifrey, that explains a good deal about your later self. His attitude and behaviour fits with what I've seen and learnt about PTSD."
"Oh." His voice was very small and she gave him a worried look, which he caught. He smiled ruefully. "I'd hoped that regenerating would help me to avoid that."
"Sorry." Martha's voice was very low and she felt a pang of guilt for telling him.
"It's okay. I asked, after all. And I knew the dangers inherent in having a companion of a future self around for any length of time." He squeezed her fingers. "I think it's time I went to see how my ship is doing. It's not fair of me to neglect the old girl. Will you come with me?"
Martha took in his eager look and felt it would be churlish to refuse, even if it was the early hours of the morning and she'd prefer to go back to sleep again. She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet; he smiled in obvious gratitude at her agreement, and she smiled back, then followed him out of the Zero Room.
"Don't overdo it, will you?" she said. "Because I won't be able to carry you back on my own."
His smile broadened into a grin. "I promise, Dr Jones."
They visited what turned out to be the Wardrobe Room, although Martha had always privately felt it was a misnomer since it covered several floors and galleries, all reached by the spiral staircases with which she was familiar.
After a lengthy walk down several corridors they also visited a vast room which was slowly becoming the Library she knew so well.
"I always loved coming in here," she said softly, looking around with a half smile of pleasure.
"I bet," murmured the Doctor.
"Are you okay?" she asked, thinking that his voice sounded rather strained.
"A little weary," he answered, giving her another smile. "Don't worry, I'll stop and have a rest when we reach the Control Room."
She gave him a doubtful look. "Promise?"
"Promise."
"All right." Martha nevertheless walked close beside him, ready to take his arm if he looked like collapsing, and she was relieved when they reached the Control Room.
"Blimey, old girl!" exclaimed the Doctor as they walked through the archway and into a room that looked exactly the one Martha had seen the very first time she'd set foot in the TARDIS.
She guided him across to the seat, which looked less battered than she remembered, and he didn't so much sit down as collapse onto it.
"I think I'd better get the wheelchair when you're ready to go back to the Zero Room," she observed.
"Yeah." He rubbed a hand across his face, then paused and pulled the hand back to look at it.
"What's wrong?" Martha asked, then noticed his hand seemed to be glowing gold.
"It's starting," he said.
"You're regenerating?" He nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
"You don't need to do anything - but I would suggest you don't come too close."
Martha backed up against the edge of the console and watched as the Doctor began to glow gold all over. He stood up a little unsteadily and she began to move, intending to go to him, but he smiled and waved her back.
"It'll be okay, Martha," he said softly.
She watched until the golden light intensified and became so bright that she had to shield her eyes with a hand, then the light seemed to whoosh out of his sleeves and the neck of his shirt, obscuring his hands and face. She blinked, then squinted at the figure standing before her as he grew taller. As the golden light began to fade, she saw his hair had become shorter, and his nose and ears had become more prominent.
He stretched, then frowned and Martha couldn't help a smile twitching at her lips as she realised the jacket, shirt and trousers he wore were too short for his longer arms and legs.
"How do I look?" he asked, and she was startled by his new accent, which sounded Mancunian.
"Different," she answered honestly.
"Good different or bad different?" He frowned and seemed to be trying to look at his mouth, as if his accent surprised him as much as her.
Martha shrugged helplessly. "Just - different."
He tutted a little in response, then lifted his hands and looked at them, before running one over his head.
"Oh great, big ears," he said, scowling. "You hate it, don't you?"
"No," she answered honestly. "It will just take me a little time to get used to the difference, that's all."
"Huh." He began pulling impatiently at his cravat, and she stepped over towards him, then realised that he was too tall for her to be able to reach up and untie it for him. He seemed to realise this, because he sat down on the seat behind him.
"There we go," she said softly, pulling the cravat free of his shirt collar and holding it out.
"Thanks," he grunted. "I need to change." He got up and headed towards the archway that led into the ship's interior, then looked back at her. "Come on then."
Despite his rather grumpy and impatient tone, Martha followed, curious to see what clothing he would choose. He strode off ahead of her, and she was forced to hurry to keep up.
"Oh, sorry, longer legs," he said, waiting for her to catch up. "Gotta get used to this new body."
"You're about four inches taller," she observed.
"Yeah, and a few kilos heavier." He looked down at himself. "Bigger hands and feet, bigger nose and ears." He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and frowned. "Bigger everything."
Martha hoped she wasn't blushing at the implication of his words. "You're not quite as tall as the Doctor I travelled with, though."
"Yeah?"
She thought he sounded indifferent and she told herself it was silly to feel hurt: his whole body had just changed in a matter of moments, that was bound to be of greater concern than the next body he'd have.
"How do you feel?" she asked rather tentatively.
"Pretty good. Not as weak." He grinned at her before bounding up the spiral staircase two stairs at a time, leaving Martha to follow more slowly.
She got to the top of the staircase to find he'd already stripped off his clothes, and she felt a blush heating her cheeks when he turned around with a pair of jeans in each hand.
"Black or blue?"
"Black," she answered. To her relief he dropped the blue pair and pulled the black ones on, before turning to a rail of shirts and jumpers.
"Not gonna be a stuffed shirt this time," he muttered, pulling a dark green jumper from the rail and shrugging it on, then yanking it back off again. "T-shirt, t-shirt." He grabbed a black t-shirt and pulled that on, then dragged the jumper back on again.
Martha watched in mild fascination as he sorted through a drawer full of socks, pulling out a dark red pair, then began looking at a variety of pairs of shoes and boots, until he found a pair of black boots. He sat down on a steamer trunk and put on the socks and boots, then stood and jumped up and down a few times.
"Much better," he said, actually smiling at her. "Now, I dunno about you, but I'm ravenous."
Martha looked at her watch. "4am's a bit too early for me," she told him.
He scowled, then shrugged and set off back down the spiral staircase. Martha followed him as he strode down the corridors at a speed that left her hurrying to keep up with him.
"Where's the kitchen?" he asked, after opening yet another door without finding it.
"I've no idea," she answered. "I haven't looked for it. Why don't you come over to my house and I'll make you some breakfast, or we can go to a café, if I haven't got what you want?"
He sighed heavily, then agreed, a little ungraciously Martha thought before chiding herself. She led the way back to the Control Room, then down the ramp and across to her back door.
"I never know how you humans cope, living in such little boxes," he observed, slouching into a chair at the table as she opened the fridge door.
"We're used to it," she answered, a little stung by the 'you humans'. Neither her Doctor, nor the one she'd just been looking after had ever sounded so disparaging about humanity. "I've got eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and bread. Do you want a fried breakfast?"
"Yeah, that'll do."
"Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee," he answered. "Black, three sugars." She raised an eyebrow at him and he scowled. "I need the energy after regenerating."
"I didn't say anything," she said stiffly. It had been the request for black coffee, instead of the tea she'd been used to him drinking, that had caused her surprise, but she didn't bother to tell him that. She filled the kettle with water, then began getting food out of the fridge and crockery from the cupboard. She was suddenly reminded of making breakfast for Mickey when he'd been heading out early in search of information, or an alien, and she pushed the memory aside with a flash of anger.
"Were you planning on serving me breakfast or lunch?" asked the Doctor, breaking into her thoughts.
"Breakfast," she answered in a snippy tone, stung by his impatience. "Tell you what, why don't you make your breakfast, and I'll go and get dressed." She thrust the frying pan into his hands, then hurried away before she could break down.
She rushed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, tears pouring down her cheeks. She reached out blindly but instead of grabbing a pillow as she'd intended, she found her hand clasped in a cooler one. She jumped, badly startled, and looked up into the Doctor's new face.
"Sorry," he said, sounding awkward. "I didn't mean to scare you. I came to apologise."
"What for?"
"Being an impatient sod," he answered. He picked up the box of tissues lying on the bedside table and held it out to her. "Pax?"
She nodded mutely, pulling a tissue from the box and trying to dry her tears.
"C'mere." He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her into his arms so that her head rested against his chest between his two hearts. "I'm sorry, Martha. This regeneration thing's a bit rough on me and anyone else who happens to be with me. I'll try not to be such a git in future."
She straightened up, wiped her eyes and her face, then blew her nose. "I'll make you that breakfast."
"Don't be daft," he said. "I can cook." He held her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes until she began to feel a little uncomfortable at the intense scrutiny. "I'll do me best not to make a mess of the kitchen."
"Thanks." She gave him a weak smile as he got up from the bed; after he'd gone back downstairs, Martha decided to have a shower before she got dressed. Hopefully it would make her feel more capable of keeping up with the Doctor, who seemed to have nearly as much energy as the first version she'd met.
* * * * * *
When Martha entered the kitchen half an hour later, she felt rather more capable of coping with the Doctor, although she also knew she'd need to get some more sleep later.
She found the Time Lord tucking into his breakfast with gusto, and averted her eyes as she suddenly felt queasy.
"Better?" he asked.
"I will be once I've got some coffee," she said, and proceeded to make herself some.
"I'll be off shortly, get meself out of your hair," he told her as she sat down at the far end of the table.
"You're not in my hair," she answered truthfully.
He shook his head, his mouth full, then chewed and swallowed. "Nice of you to say so, but I don't really do domestic, so I'll push off soon as I'm sure the TARDIS is fit."
Martha nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She felt hurt by his somewhat dismissive attitude, even as she told herself it wasn't reasonable to assume she'd automatically get on with this version of the Doctor, just because she got on well with other versions of him. She knew from her conversations with Sarah Jane that each version of the Doctor had a different personality as well as a different body.
"Of course, you could come with me," he said suddenly.
She gave him a startled look. "No." She didn't even need to consider it.
"Why not?" he demanded, his tone fierce.
"Because I didn't travel with this version of you," she answered.
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"Of course it does," Martha said. "If I start travelling with a version of you earlier than the one I first met, you'll be tangling up my time line - it'll affect things that have already happened to me."
"Seems to me that might not be a bad thing."
"To you, maybe not, since you're a Time Lord," she retorted. "But to me, a mere human, it would be very unpleasant."
He scowled, then shrugged again, clearly dismissing the matter. "All right, if you say so. I'm gonna go and see if the TARDIS is fit to fly. You coming?"
She nodded, not wanting to antagonise him further, then swallowed the last of her coffee before following him out to the ship.
* * * * * *
The TARDIS' hum was the usual rich purr that reminded Martha of a contented cat, and she smiled in response as she walked up the ramp, brushing a hand against the coral strut as she passed.
Ahead of her the Doctor looked up suddenly from the console, which he'd been studying. "What was that?" he asked.
"What was what?" asked Martha, looking behind her.
"What did you just do?" He came down the ramp towards her, his gaze intent.
"Um, just walked through the door and up the ramp."
"You must have done something else," he said, his tone insistent.
She shrugged. "I just brushed my hand against the coral strut, like I always do, did - to say hello to the TARDIS."
"But I sensed - " He broke off, staring at her until she shifted uncomfortably. "You'd better come with me," he said.
"I've already told you, I don't want to travel with you."
He tutted loudly. "No, come with me to the medical bay." He grasped her wrist and led her across the Control Room and into the corridor beyond.
"Why do I need to go to the medical bay?" protested Martha, feeling rather alarmed.
"Something I need to confirm," he said.
They didn't have far to go to find the new medical bay, and the Doctor let go of her wrist then gestured to an examination bed. "Sit up there a minute, will you?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, not wrong exactly."
She scowled at this unhelpful remark, but sat down on the bed, rubbing her wrist a little as he hadn't been very gentle. He picked up a hand-held scanning device she'd seen her Doctor using, and pointed it at her. He began muttering under his breath in what Martha was sure was Gallifreyan since the TARDIS didn't translate it.
"Just as well you said no to travelling with me," he finally said after a few minutes.
"Why?" asked Martha, suddenly alarmed.
"You're pregnant."
She stared at him for a moment, then burst into tears, though she wasn't sure whether they were tears of joy or sadness, or even both.
"When did I conceive, can you tell?" she asked, trying to compose herself since she could see he was looking uncomfortable.
"About a week," he answered.
Martha bowed her head, thinking of the extra hour they'd spent in bed the previous Sunday morning with Mickey, before he'd got the phone call that sent him off after the Hoix.
She felt the Doctor sit down beside her and after a moment his arm went around her shoulders.
"You all right?" he asked, sounding both concerned and awkward.
She gulped a couple of times, then rubbed her eyes. "I will be," she answered, looking up at him.
"Did you want a kid?"
"Yes, Mickey and I have been trying for a family for three months."
He nodded, but didn't respond and she wondered if he was unsure what to say; she felt a bit unsure herself. She was glad to be having Mickey's child after all, but it hurt desperately that he wouldn't be here to see his son or daughter grow up.
"Do you wanna know what it is?" asked the Doctor after a moment.
"Yes."
"Twins - a boy and a girl."
Martha's eyes widened in astonishment. "Twins?" He nodded. "Oh! I've no idea what my mum will say."
"She'll get used to it, same as you will."
"Yeah." Martha slid down off the exam bed. "I'd better go and ring her, give her the news."
The Doctor nodded. "I'll be on me way then," he said. "You don't want me hanging around at a time like this."
She paused in the doorway, looking up at him. "I wouldn't mind," she assured him. "But it's probably going to get very domestic, so I'll understand if you'd rather go."
"I'm gonna take the old girl for a spin, make sure she's recovered," he told her as he followed her back to the Control Room.
Martha paused by the console, then put a hand on his chest between his hearts. "You don't have to be a stranger, you know," she said softly. "Whatever face you wear, I'll always care about you, and I'll always be here if you need a doctor." She stretched up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips, then turned and walked away before he could respond. She thought, in fact, that he looked stunned.
The TARDIS dematerialised with her customary wheezing and groaning as Martha let herself back into her house. She took her books back to her study, put the blankets back in the linen cupboard, then decided to make herself some breakfast before she started ringing her friends and family to tell them the news: 6am on a Sunday was a little early, even if it was good news.
She washed up the breakfast things she and the Doctor had used, made a fresh pot of coffee, and then went to sit on her sofa and begin ringing people.
* * * * * *
An hour later Martha finished the final call, and just as she put the phone down, her doorbell rang. Opening the door she was unsurprised to find her parents on the doorstep.
"Oh Martha!" exclaimed Francine, throwing her arms around her younger daughter.
"Don't squash the poor girl," Clive said, rolling his eyes slightly at Martha, then smiling at her when Francine let go and he was able to take his turn at hugging her.
"All right?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah, bit shell-shocked, but okay otherwise. And how are you, granddad?" she asked, teasingly.
He chuckled. "I'm really pleased for you Martha, I'm just sorry Mickey's not going to be here to see them."
"You know we'll help you, in any way we can," Francine chipped in.
"Thanks mum."
"Have you eaten yet? You know you'll have to keep up your strength, now you're eating for three."
"Francine!" exclaimed Martha's father, rolling his eyes again. "Martha's a doctor, she knows all this."
Martha laughed. "It's okay dad, I was expecting it." She smiled up at them both, her eyes wet with tears.
"I'll go and put the kettle on," Clive said, and headed towards the kitchen.
Martha and her mother settled on the sofa in the sitting room. "Did you say the Doctor's gone?" asked Francine, glancing towards the back garden.
"Yeah, he went a little while before I rang you."
"Is he okay?"
Martha nodded, touched by her concern; although Francine had made her peace, somewhat, with the Doctor during that Year aboard the Valiant, she had never felt entirely comfortable around the Time Lord, or with Martha being around him.
"He's fine. I expect he's already giving someone hell somewhere."
"Good."
* * * * * *
By the time Clive returned with a laden tea tray, Francine was busy recounting anecdotes about her three pregnancies, and Martha was secretly glad of his timely arrival.
"I hope you're not going to spend the whole nine months doing that," Clive observed laconically to his wife as he set the tea tray down on the coffee table and handed round the mugs.
"What?" asked Francine, her tone slightly affronted.
"Telling the child scare stories," he answered, sitting down in the armchair.
Luckily for the family peace the doorbell rang again, and Martha went to answer it with a sense of relief.
"Hello mum!" exclaimed Tish as soon as she saw her sister.
Martha rolled her eyes good naturedly, then accepted her sister's hug of congratulations. "On your own?" she asked, glancing back out of the front door.
"Yeah, I left Martin giving the kids breakfast."
"Come in then."
They went back into the sitting room, where Tish greeted her parents with amusement. "Might have known you'd get here first, mum."
* * * * * *
By the middle of the morning, Martha was half wishing she'd gone with the Doctor after all since Leo had also turned up, with all three of his children as well as Shonara. Much as she loved her family dearly, she would have been glad of a little time to process the news of her impending motherhood in peace.
To her relief, they all went home for lunch, and Martha was able to sit down and ring Jack to tell him the news since she hadn't wanted to ring before.
"Twins?" asked Jack in obvious amazement when she broke the news, after telling him all about her recent visit from the Doctor.
"Yeah. First time there have been twins in our family for three generations," Martha said, her mother having imparted that information earlier.
"What are you having, do you know?"
"Yes, the Doctor told me, after telling me that it would be twins. It's a girl and a boy."
"Have you thought of names yet?" he asked, and she thought he was trying to sound casual.
"Mickey and I had discussed it," she answered.
"What have you chosen?"
"John Michael for a boy and Frances Elizabeth for a girl," she said. "John is dad's middle name, and mum once told me that when she was a child, she used to wish she'd been called Frances not Francine.
"You could call him your son Jack, then."
Martha chuckled. "You're so transparent."
"Me?" he asked, but she could tell he was only feigning indignation.
"Yeah you," she teased.
"All right, I admit it, it would give me a bit of a kick to have Mickey Mouse's son called Jack."
"Should I take to calling you Captain Cheesecake?" she asked with a giggle.
"Oi!" He chuckled. "I'm glad to hear you teasing me," he said after a moment. "I was worried about you."
"Thank you." Before Martha could say any more she heard her doorbell ringing again. "I'll have to go, there's someone at the door."
"All right, little Nightingale. I'll give you a ring in a couple of days, and let you know when I'll be over to see you."
"Okay. Take care of yourself and your team, yeah?"
"Will do."
Martha ended the call, then hurried to answer the front door, wondering who it could be since all her family had already visited.
"Liz!" exclaimed Martha, surprised.
"Hello. Sorry to turn up unannounced. Sarah's been trying to get hold of you for half an hour to invite you to lunch with them, and Clyde and Rani, and me."
"Oh! Come in a minute, then."
Liz stepped inside, and closed the door. "You weren't cooking, were you?" she asked, following Martha to the kitchen.
"No, no - hadn't got as far as thinking about lunch, actually. I rang Jack to tell him my news and we were talking about the Doctor as well. I had my family here for most of the morning before that."
"Well your friends would like to help you celebrate the good news, too, if that's okay."
"I'd love to," Martha assured her. She checked the back door was locked, then glanced around the kitchen. "Should I change?"
"You look fine," Liz said, smiling. "Come on."
Martha kicked off her house shoes, then put on her outdoor shoes, grabbed her handbag and shoved her keys and mobile into it, then followed Liz out to her car.
* * * * * *
Liz drove them across the river from Richmond to Sarah Jane and Harry's Ealing home. "How are you coping with the news?"
"Processing it slowly," Martha answered. "I'm not sure which is the biggest surprise - that I am pregnant, or that it's twins."
"I know which one would surprise me the most," Liz answered, with a laugh.
"Yeah, I guess the news that it's twins is the bigger surprise. I'm glad, though. If I only get to be the mother of Mickey's child once, the fact that it's twins makes it slightly less painful. I didn't think I'd get even one child with him, so having two is a definite bonus."
"Tell me if you still feel the same in a year's time."
Martha laughed again. "Yeah, okay."
Liz pulled up behind Harry's car, and they climbed out. Before they could get to the front door it opened, and Clyde and Rani came rushing out, following a little more sedately by Sarah Jane and Harry.
"Sorry," said Harry, as the two young friends hugged Martha simultaneously. "I did try to persuade them to wait until you were indoors."
"That's okay," she assured him.
"Come on you two, let Martha come inside before you squish her," chided Sarah Jane.
They made their way back into the house and through to the kitchen where Harry opened a bottle of champagne.
"Oh, you shouldn't have!" exclaimed Martha, shocked by this extravagance.
"Of course we should," retorted Sarah Jane immediately. "It's fantastic news."
"Clyde, why don't you come and help me with the barbecue," said Harry, after handing the bottle to his wife to pour.
"Yeah, okay."
The two men went out, and Sarah Jane handed around glasses of champagne. "Rani, can you take one out to them?" she asked the younger woman, nodding at Harry and Clyde.
"Yeah, okay." She went out carrying the two glasses carefully.
Sarah Jane made Martha sit down while she and Liz got food out of the freezer and the fridge, so she buttered bread rolls as she told them about Doctor's regeneration, then the discovery of her pregnancy.
"It sounds as if he's turned out a bit grumpy," Sarah Jane remarked thoughtfully as she took burgers and sausages from freezer boxes.
"He was a bit," Martha conceded. "But then again, he had just died and transformed every single cell in his body. I think that'd make me a bit grumpy, too."
"Do you think you'll see him again, this new one, I mean?" asked Liz.
Martha shrugged. "I don't know. But probably not." She finished buttering the final roll. "Still, you never know. He's surprised me before."
"The day he stops surprising us," Sarah Jane said, "is the day we should worry, I think."
"True," agreed Liz.
"Very true," Martha said emphatically.
They took the food out into the garden, then Clyde, Rani and Liz fetched the chairs and a table, and Martha helped Sarah Jane to bring some drinks out too.
The six of them were soon supplied with food and drinks and sat around the table, laughing and talking, and Martha couldn't help contrasting this lunch with the one she'd shared with these people just a few days ago. Life went on, indeed.
Title: Regeneration
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, the Doctor, the TARDIS, Sarah Jane, Liz, Clyde, Rani, Harry Sullivan
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S1 - S4 (Mild)
Warning: Character deaths
Summary: A battle-worn TARDIS brings a dying Eighth Doctor from the Time War to Martha for her help through his regeneration.
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine!
Author Notes: I have no idea where this plot bunny sprang from! It's set about 5 years after Journey's End for Martha. I figure the TARDIS, being linked to the Doctor's mind, is as capable of seeing the future as the Doctor himself, therefore she'd know of his meeting with Martha even though it hadn't yet happened in his personal timeline. Though this is not a shippy fic, the pairings are: Martha/Mickey, Sarah Jane/Harry, Liz/Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, and Clyde/Rani.
Beta-readers: abstruse_fangrl and catholicphoton
Part 1
~~~~~~
* * * * * *
The Doctor was once again floating in mid-air as Martha opened the door to the Zero Room, but he lifted his head as the two women entered, then he lowered his legs so that he was standing up.
"Liz Shaw," he said, sounding delighted.
"Hello Doctor." She walked over, and he immediately held out his arms to her, wrapping her in a hug as Martha approached.
"Well, well, look at you," said the Time Lord, holding her by the shoulders. "Every inch the professor. Congratulations."
Liz laughed softly. "Thank you. I must say, you don't much look like you're dying."
The Doctor's expression sobered. "You know what they say, Liz: Never judge a book by its cover."
"You do look better than when you arrived, though," Martha observed quietly. "Your eyes are no longer bloodshot, and you've got a full head of hair again." He looked surprised by this, and ran a hand through his curly hair as she continued. "You also sound healthier - it was quite obvious, when you first arrived, that your lungs were full of smoke."
"Nevertheless," he said quietly. "I am dying by degrees."
"How long until you regenerate?" asked Liz.
"I don't know exactly," he answered. "Probably within the next twenty four hours, thirty six at the outside." His gaze was still fixed on Liz. "Martha told me about Alistair. I'm sorry."
She gave him a half smile. "Thank you. We had ten wonderful years together, though - and I'd never imagined that, back when we were all at UNIT together."
"I'm glad you were happy."
Martha noticed that he was suddenly looking weary again. "We should leave you in peace," she suggested. "I'd hate for your regeneration to be delayed because we kept bothering you."
"You don't bother me," he said softly. "But yes, I should probably get some more rest." He hugged Liz again. "Take care of yourself, Professor Shaw."
"And you, Doctor." She kissed his cheek, then moved away.
"I brought you some sandwiches and some more tea," Martha said, holding out the box and the thermos.
"Thank you." He accepted them both from her, putting them on the floor by his feet, then took her hands in his. "Would you mind staying in the TARDIS tonight? I can get her to sort out a bedroom for you."
"I think the TARDIS has enough to do, repairing the damage she received, without creating a bedroom for me. I can sleep in here, if you don't mind me being here."
He frowned. "How badly damaged is the TARDIS?"
"Pretty bad," Martha answered. "At least, there was quite a lot of wreckage in the corridors between the Control Room and here, and in the Control Room itself."
"I hadn't realised the old girl was so badly damaged."
"Well you were out of it when Sarah Jane and Harry brought you here," Martha observed.
"True." He sighed. "Anyway, I don't mind you being in here, if you can make yourself comfortable. I don't really anticipate needing your help, but it would comfort me to know there's someone competent nearby."
She ducked her head, slightly embarrassed by his words. "I'll come back in a bit," she promised. "Do you want anything else in the way of food, or anything?"
"No, thank you." He squeezed her fingers, then released her hands, and she joined Liz at the door.
As Martha closed the door to the Zero Room behind them, she glanced back and saw the Doctor was again floating in mid air.
"Are you okay?" Liz asked as they made their way back to the Control Room.
"Yeah, just a bit worried about the Doctor. According to the books he sent me, regeneration is generally a private thing, and most Time Lords prefer to regenerate in the safety of their home with family members around them. As far as I can work out, the Doctor's unusual in that regard."
Liz laughed softly. "As far as I can tell, the Doctor's the most unusual Time Lord ever. You know his own people exiled him, and forced a regeneration on him?"
"That was when you met him, wasn't it?" Martha asked, leading the way back into the house.
"Yes. Poor Alistair didn't know what to make of the situation."
"I bet." Martha made some coffee, which they took through to the sitting room; Liz needed very little encouragement to talk about her UNIT days, and Martha listened in fascination.
"I ought to let you get some rest," the older woman said when Martha stifled a yawn with an apology.
"Given how much sleep I had last night after Harry gave me that sedative, you'd think I'd be less ready for bed this early," she observed.
"But I bet you haven't been sleeping well since Sunday," Liz said, getting to her feet. "I know I didn't after Alistair died - and his death wasn't even a huge shock, like Mickey's."
"Yeah."
Liz gave Martha a hug. "Let me know if you need me for anything," she said.
"I will, thanks." Martha returned the hug, then let Liz out of the house. She put their coffee mugs into the dish washer and turned it on, then made a fresh thermos of tea for the Doctor, before heading out to the TARDIS.
She paused in the doorway of the ship to stare in amazement at the Control Room: it was looking more like the one she had known; the console was still off to the right of the doors, but there were now coral struts growing here and there around the room.
Martha picked up the blankets which she had brought with her when she'd come in earlier, and headed back to the Zero Room, where she found the Doctor sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, eating the sandwiches she'd brought.
"Hello," he said, looking up with a smile.
"I brought you some more tea," Martha said, smiling in return. She noticed that he was looking considerably healthier than when he'd first arrived, and a good deal more attractive, although she immediately banished that thought as unworthy of Mickey.
"Thank you." He patted the floor next to where he sat, and she smiled again, then sat down beside him. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," she answered. "Thank you for letting me come and share the Zero Room with you - I definitely feel better for it."
"I'm glad to hear it." He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his velvet jacket, then sat down again, cross-legged this time. "It seems to me that you could do with some sleep, so why don't you make yourself comfortable?"
Martha unfolded the blankets and spread them out on the floor, then lay down.
"Good. I'm going to tell you a story," the Doctor said.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't I a little old for bedtime stories?"
"No one is ever too old for a story, at bedtime or any other time."
She laughed softly. "Very well, then. I'm all ears."
"Good, then I'll begin."
* * * * * *
Martha fell asleep with the Doctor's soothing voice recounting mythological tales from Gallifrey easing her into her dreams, but it was the Time Lord's dreaming that woke her several hours later. She sat bolt upright, her heart racing, as a second cry of agony echoed around the room, but the more unnerving moment was when she got up and saw that he was floating in mid air, a peaceful expression on his face. Even as she moved over to his side there came a third cry - but the Doctor's mouth hadn't opened, and that was when she realised that the cries were in her head, not in the Zero Room.
She took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers gently. "Doctor."
His eyes snapped open and he gave her a startled look. "Martha?"
"Sorry to disturb you, but you were screaming in my head."
"Oh Martha, I am sorry." He lowered his feet to the floor and put his arms around her. "I should have realised that there was a good chance you'd be somewhat telepathically receptive in here."
She felt his hand rubbing up and down her back as she held him, and allowed herself to relax. "It's okay, it just unnerved me a bit to hear you screaming and yet you seemed to be peacefully asleep."
He gave a soft chuckle. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Were you dreaming about the War?" She felt him stiffen and immediately wished she hadn't asked. "Never mind, none of my business," she said quickly. "Sorry."
"Well, I think I've made it your business," he answered. He pulled away from her to look her in the eyes, then led her back across to the blankets where she'd been sleeping.
They sat down again, the Doctor still holding her hand. "What do you know about the War?"
"Only what my Doctor told me," she answered. "He didn't go into great detail about the War itself, but he did tell me about Gallifrey, and the fact that the Daleks were involved in the War with the Time Lords."
"Did I tell you that I was responsible for ending it?" he asked.
Martha gave him a sharp look. "No, but - " She broke off, considering the implications of this.
"But what?"
"Well, if you ended the War, and I'm assuming you mean that you were the one responsible for destroying Gallifrey, that explains a good deal about your later self. His attitude and behaviour fits with what I've seen and learnt about PTSD."
"Oh." His voice was very small and she gave him a worried look, which he caught. He smiled ruefully. "I'd hoped that regenerating would help me to avoid that."
"Sorry." Martha's voice was very low and she felt a pang of guilt for telling him.
"It's okay. I asked, after all. And I knew the dangers inherent in having a companion of a future self around for any length of time." He squeezed her fingers. "I think it's time I went to see how my ship is doing. It's not fair of me to neglect the old girl. Will you come with me?"
Martha took in his eager look and felt it would be churlish to refuse, even if it was the early hours of the morning and she'd prefer to go back to sleep again. She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet; he smiled in obvious gratitude at her agreement, and she smiled back, then followed him out of the Zero Room.
"Don't overdo it, will you?" she said. "Because I won't be able to carry you back on my own."
His smile broadened into a grin. "I promise, Dr Jones."
They visited what turned out to be the Wardrobe Room, although Martha had always privately felt it was a misnomer since it covered several floors and galleries, all reached by the spiral staircases with which she was familiar.
After a lengthy walk down several corridors they also visited a vast room which was slowly becoming the Library she knew so well.
"I always loved coming in here," she said softly, looking around with a half smile of pleasure.
"I bet," murmured the Doctor.
"Are you okay?" she asked, thinking that his voice sounded rather strained.
"A little weary," he answered, giving her another smile. "Don't worry, I'll stop and have a rest when we reach the Control Room."
She gave him a doubtful look. "Promise?"
"Promise."
"All right." Martha nevertheless walked close beside him, ready to take his arm if he looked like collapsing, and she was relieved when they reached the Control Room.
"Blimey, old girl!" exclaimed the Doctor as they walked through the archway and into a room that looked exactly the one Martha had seen the very first time she'd set foot in the TARDIS.
She guided him across to the seat, which looked less battered than she remembered, and he didn't so much sit down as collapse onto it.
"I think I'd better get the wheelchair when you're ready to go back to the Zero Room," she observed.
"Yeah." He rubbed a hand across his face, then paused and pulled the hand back to look at it.
"What's wrong?" Martha asked, then noticed his hand seemed to be glowing gold.
"It's starting," he said.
"You're regenerating?" He nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
"You don't need to do anything - but I would suggest you don't come too close."
Martha backed up against the edge of the console and watched as the Doctor began to glow gold all over. He stood up a little unsteadily and she began to move, intending to go to him, but he smiled and waved her back.
"It'll be okay, Martha," he said softly.
She watched until the golden light intensified and became so bright that she had to shield her eyes with a hand, then the light seemed to whoosh out of his sleeves and the neck of his shirt, obscuring his hands and face. She blinked, then squinted at the figure standing before her as he grew taller. As the golden light began to fade, she saw his hair had become shorter, and his nose and ears had become more prominent.
He stretched, then frowned and Martha couldn't help a smile twitching at her lips as she realised the jacket, shirt and trousers he wore were too short for his longer arms and legs.
"How do I look?" he asked, and she was startled by his new accent, which sounded Mancunian.
"Different," she answered honestly.
"Good different or bad different?" He frowned and seemed to be trying to look at his mouth, as if his accent surprised him as much as her.
Martha shrugged helplessly. "Just - different."
He tutted a little in response, then lifted his hands and looked at them, before running one over his head.
"Oh great, big ears," he said, scowling. "You hate it, don't you?"
"No," she answered honestly. "It will just take me a little time to get used to the difference, that's all."
"Huh." He began pulling impatiently at his cravat, and she stepped over towards him, then realised that he was too tall for her to be able to reach up and untie it for him. He seemed to realise this, because he sat down on the seat behind him.
"There we go," she said softly, pulling the cravat free of his shirt collar and holding it out.
"Thanks," he grunted. "I need to change." He got up and headed towards the archway that led into the ship's interior, then looked back at her. "Come on then."
Despite his rather grumpy and impatient tone, Martha followed, curious to see what clothing he would choose. He strode off ahead of her, and she was forced to hurry to keep up.
"Oh, sorry, longer legs," he said, waiting for her to catch up. "Gotta get used to this new body."
"You're about four inches taller," she observed.
"Yeah, and a few kilos heavier." He looked down at himself. "Bigger hands and feet, bigger nose and ears." He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and frowned. "Bigger everything."
Martha hoped she wasn't blushing at the implication of his words. "You're not quite as tall as the Doctor I travelled with, though."
"Yeah?"
She thought he sounded indifferent and she told herself it was silly to feel hurt: his whole body had just changed in a matter of moments, that was bound to be of greater concern than the next body he'd have.
"How do you feel?" she asked rather tentatively.
"Pretty good. Not as weak." He grinned at her before bounding up the spiral staircase two stairs at a time, leaving Martha to follow more slowly.
She got to the top of the staircase to find he'd already stripped off his clothes, and she felt a blush heating her cheeks when he turned around with a pair of jeans in each hand.
"Black or blue?"
"Black," she answered. To her relief he dropped the blue pair and pulled the black ones on, before turning to a rail of shirts and jumpers.
"Not gonna be a stuffed shirt this time," he muttered, pulling a dark green jumper from the rail and shrugging it on, then yanking it back off again. "T-shirt, t-shirt." He grabbed a black t-shirt and pulled that on, then dragged the jumper back on again.
Martha watched in mild fascination as he sorted through a drawer full of socks, pulling out a dark red pair, then began looking at a variety of pairs of shoes and boots, until he found a pair of black boots. He sat down on a steamer trunk and put on the socks and boots, then stood and jumped up and down a few times.
"Much better," he said, actually smiling at her. "Now, I dunno about you, but I'm ravenous."
Martha looked at her watch. "4am's a bit too early for me," she told him.
He scowled, then shrugged and set off back down the spiral staircase. Martha followed him as he strode down the corridors at a speed that left her hurrying to keep up with him.
"Where's the kitchen?" he asked, after opening yet another door without finding it.
"I've no idea," she answered. "I haven't looked for it. Why don't you come over to my house and I'll make you some breakfast, or we can go to a café, if I haven't got what you want?"
He sighed heavily, then agreed, a little ungraciously Martha thought before chiding herself. She led the way back to the Control Room, then down the ramp and across to her back door.
"I never know how you humans cope, living in such little boxes," he observed, slouching into a chair at the table as she opened the fridge door.
"We're used to it," she answered, a little stung by the 'you humans'. Neither her Doctor, nor the one she'd just been looking after had ever sounded so disparaging about humanity. "I've got eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and bread. Do you want a fried breakfast?"
"Yeah, that'll do."
"Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee," he answered. "Black, three sugars." She raised an eyebrow at him and he scowled. "I need the energy after regenerating."
"I didn't say anything," she said stiffly. It had been the request for black coffee, instead of the tea she'd been used to him drinking, that had caused her surprise, but she didn't bother to tell him that. She filled the kettle with water, then began getting food out of the fridge and crockery from the cupboard. She was suddenly reminded of making breakfast for Mickey when he'd been heading out early in search of information, or an alien, and she pushed the memory aside with a flash of anger.
"Were you planning on serving me breakfast or lunch?" asked the Doctor, breaking into her thoughts.
"Breakfast," she answered in a snippy tone, stung by his impatience. "Tell you what, why don't you make your breakfast, and I'll go and get dressed." She thrust the frying pan into his hands, then hurried away before she could break down.
She rushed into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, tears pouring down her cheeks. She reached out blindly but instead of grabbing a pillow as she'd intended, she found her hand clasped in a cooler one. She jumped, badly startled, and looked up into the Doctor's new face.
"Sorry," he said, sounding awkward. "I didn't mean to scare you. I came to apologise."
"What for?"
"Being an impatient sod," he answered. He picked up the box of tissues lying on the bedside table and held it out to her. "Pax?"
She nodded mutely, pulling a tissue from the box and trying to dry her tears.
"C'mere." He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her into his arms so that her head rested against his chest between his two hearts. "I'm sorry, Martha. This regeneration thing's a bit rough on me and anyone else who happens to be with me. I'll try not to be such a git in future."
She straightened up, wiped her eyes and her face, then blew her nose. "I'll make you that breakfast."
"Don't be daft," he said. "I can cook." He held her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes until she began to feel a little uncomfortable at the intense scrutiny. "I'll do me best not to make a mess of the kitchen."
"Thanks." She gave him a weak smile as he got up from the bed; after he'd gone back downstairs, Martha decided to have a shower before she got dressed. Hopefully it would make her feel more capable of keeping up with the Doctor, who seemed to have nearly as much energy as the first version she'd met.
* * * * * *
When Martha entered the kitchen half an hour later, she felt rather more capable of coping with the Doctor, although she also knew she'd need to get some more sleep later.
She found the Time Lord tucking into his breakfast with gusto, and averted her eyes as she suddenly felt queasy.
"Better?" he asked.
"I will be once I've got some coffee," she said, and proceeded to make herself some.
"I'll be off shortly, get meself out of your hair," he told her as she sat down at the far end of the table.
"You're not in my hair," she answered truthfully.
He shook his head, his mouth full, then chewed and swallowed. "Nice of you to say so, but I don't really do domestic, so I'll push off soon as I'm sure the TARDIS is fit."
Martha nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She felt hurt by his somewhat dismissive attitude, even as she told herself it wasn't reasonable to assume she'd automatically get on with this version of the Doctor, just because she got on well with other versions of him. She knew from her conversations with Sarah Jane that each version of the Doctor had a different personality as well as a different body.
"Of course, you could come with me," he said suddenly.
She gave him a startled look. "No." She didn't even need to consider it.
"Why not?" he demanded, his tone fierce.
"Because I didn't travel with this version of you," she answered.
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"Of course it does," Martha said. "If I start travelling with a version of you earlier than the one I first met, you'll be tangling up my time line - it'll affect things that have already happened to me."
"Seems to me that might not be a bad thing."
"To you, maybe not, since you're a Time Lord," she retorted. "But to me, a mere human, it would be very unpleasant."
He scowled, then shrugged again, clearly dismissing the matter. "All right, if you say so. I'm gonna go and see if the TARDIS is fit to fly. You coming?"
She nodded, not wanting to antagonise him further, then swallowed the last of her coffee before following him out to the ship.
* * * * * *
The TARDIS' hum was the usual rich purr that reminded Martha of a contented cat, and she smiled in response as she walked up the ramp, brushing a hand against the coral strut as she passed.
Ahead of her the Doctor looked up suddenly from the console, which he'd been studying. "What was that?" he asked.
"What was what?" asked Martha, looking behind her.
"What did you just do?" He came down the ramp towards her, his gaze intent.
"Um, just walked through the door and up the ramp."
"You must have done something else," he said, his tone insistent.
She shrugged. "I just brushed my hand against the coral strut, like I always do, did - to say hello to the TARDIS."
"But I sensed - " He broke off, staring at her until she shifted uncomfortably. "You'd better come with me," he said.
"I've already told you, I don't want to travel with you."
He tutted loudly. "No, come with me to the medical bay." He grasped her wrist and led her across the Control Room and into the corridor beyond.
"Why do I need to go to the medical bay?" protested Martha, feeling rather alarmed.
"Something I need to confirm," he said.
They didn't have far to go to find the new medical bay, and the Doctor let go of her wrist then gestured to an examination bed. "Sit up there a minute, will you?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, not wrong exactly."
She scowled at this unhelpful remark, but sat down on the bed, rubbing her wrist a little as he hadn't been very gentle. He picked up a hand-held scanning device she'd seen her Doctor using, and pointed it at her. He began muttering under his breath in what Martha was sure was Gallifreyan since the TARDIS didn't translate it.
"Just as well you said no to travelling with me," he finally said after a few minutes.
"Why?" asked Martha, suddenly alarmed.
"You're pregnant."
She stared at him for a moment, then burst into tears, though she wasn't sure whether they were tears of joy or sadness, or even both.
"When did I conceive, can you tell?" she asked, trying to compose herself since she could see he was looking uncomfortable.
"About a week," he answered.
Martha bowed her head, thinking of the extra hour they'd spent in bed the previous Sunday morning with Mickey, before he'd got the phone call that sent him off after the Hoix.
She felt the Doctor sit down beside her and after a moment his arm went around her shoulders.
"You all right?" he asked, sounding both concerned and awkward.
She gulped a couple of times, then rubbed her eyes. "I will be," she answered, looking up at him.
"Did you want a kid?"
"Yes, Mickey and I have been trying for a family for three months."
He nodded, but didn't respond and she wondered if he was unsure what to say; she felt a bit unsure herself. She was glad to be having Mickey's child after all, but it hurt desperately that he wouldn't be here to see his son or daughter grow up.
"Do you wanna know what it is?" asked the Doctor after a moment.
"Yes."
"Twins - a boy and a girl."
Martha's eyes widened in astonishment. "Twins?" He nodded. "Oh! I've no idea what my mum will say."
"She'll get used to it, same as you will."
"Yeah." Martha slid down off the exam bed. "I'd better go and ring her, give her the news."
The Doctor nodded. "I'll be on me way then," he said. "You don't want me hanging around at a time like this."
She paused in the doorway, looking up at him. "I wouldn't mind," she assured him. "But it's probably going to get very domestic, so I'll understand if you'd rather go."
"I'm gonna take the old girl for a spin, make sure she's recovered," he told her as he followed her back to the Control Room.
Martha paused by the console, then put a hand on his chest between his hearts. "You don't have to be a stranger, you know," she said softly. "Whatever face you wear, I'll always care about you, and I'll always be here if you need a doctor." She stretched up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips, then turned and walked away before he could respond. She thought, in fact, that he looked stunned.
The TARDIS dematerialised with her customary wheezing and groaning as Martha let herself back into her house. She took her books back to her study, put the blankets back in the linen cupboard, then decided to make herself some breakfast before she started ringing her friends and family to tell them the news: 6am on a Sunday was a little early, even if it was good news.
She washed up the breakfast things she and the Doctor had used, made a fresh pot of coffee, and then went to sit on her sofa and begin ringing people.
* * * * * *
An hour later Martha finished the final call, and just as she put the phone down, her doorbell rang. Opening the door she was unsurprised to find her parents on the doorstep.
"Oh Martha!" exclaimed Francine, throwing her arms around her younger daughter.
"Don't squash the poor girl," Clive said, rolling his eyes slightly at Martha, then smiling at her when Francine let go and he was able to take his turn at hugging her.
"All right?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah, bit shell-shocked, but okay otherwise. And how are you, granddad?" she asked, teasingly.
He chuckled. "I'm really pleased for you Martha, I'm just sorry Mickey's not going to be here to see them."
"You know we'll help you, in any way we can," Francine chipped in.
"Thanks mum."
"Have you eaten yet? You know you'll have to keep up your strength, now you're eating for three."
"Francine!" exclaimed Martha's father, rolling his eyes again. "Martha's a doctor, she knows all this."
Martha laughed. "It's okay dad, I was expecting it." She smiled up at them both, her eyes wet with tears.
"I'll go and put the kettle on," Clive said, and headed towards the kitchen.
Martha and her mother settled on the sofa in the sitting room. "Did you say the Doctor's gone?" asked Francine, glancing towards the back garden.
"Yeah, he went a little while before I rang you."
"Is he okay?"
Martha nodded, touched by her concern; although Francine had made her peace, somewhat, with the Doctor during that Year aboard the Valiant, she had never felt entirely comfortable around the Time Lord, or with Martha being around him.
"He's fine. I expect he's already giving someone hell somewhere."
"Good."
* * * * * *
By the time Clive returned with a laden tea tray, Francine was busy recounting anecdotes about her three pregnancies, and Martha was secretly glad of his timely arrival.
"I hope you're not going to spend the whole nine months doing that," Clive observed laconically to his wife as he set the tea tray down on the coffee table and handed round the mugs.
"What?" asked Francine, her tone slightly affronted.
"Telling the child scare stories," he answered, sitting down in the armchair.
Luckily for the family peace the doorbell rang again, and Martha went to answer it with a sense of relief.
"Hello mum!" exclaimed Tish as soon as she saw her sister.
Martha rolled her eyes good naturedly, then accepted her sister's hug of congratulations. "On your own?" she asked, glancing back out of the front door.
"Yeah, I left Martin giving the kids breakfast."
"Come in then."
They went back into the sitting room, where Tish greeted her parents with amusement. "Might have known you'd get here first, mum."
* * * * * *
By the middle of the morning, Martha was half wishing she'd gone with the Doctor after all since Leo had also turned up, with all three of his children as well as Shonara. Much as she loved her family dearly, she would have been glad of a little time to process the news of her impending motherhood in peace.
To her relief, they all went home for lunch, and Martha was able to sit down and ring Jack to tell him the news since she hadn't wanted to ring before.
"Twins?" asked Jack in obvious amazement when she broke the news, after telling him all about her recent visit from the Doctor.
"Yeah. First time there have been twins in our family for three generations," Martha said, her mother having imparted that information earlier.
"What are you having, do you know?"
"Yes, the Doctor told me, after telling me that it would be twins. It's a girl and a boy."
"Have you thought of names yet?" he asked, and she thought he was trying to sound casual.
"Mickey and I had discussed it," she answered.
"What have you chosen?"
"John Michael for a boy and Frances Elizabeth for a girl," she said. "John is dad's middle name, and mum once told me that when she was a child, she used to wish she'd been called Frances not Francine.
"You could call him your son Jack, then."
Martha chuckled. "You're so transparent."
"Me?" he asked, but she could tell he was only feigning indignation.
"Yeah you," she teased.
"All right, I admit it, it would give me a bit of a kick to have Mickey Mouse's son called Jack."
"Should I take to calling you Captain Cheesecake?" she asked with a giggle.
"Oi!" He chuckled. "I'm glad to hear you teasing me," he said after a moment. "I was worried about you."
"Thank you." Before Martha could say any more she heard her doorbell ringing again. "I'll have to go, there's someone at the door."
"All right, little Nightingale. I'll give you a ring in a couple of days, and let you know when I'll be over to see you."
"Okay. Take care of yourself and your team, yeah?"
"Will do."
Martha ended the call, then hurried to answer the front door, wondering who it could be since all her family had already visited.
"Liz!" exclaimed Martha, surprised.
"Hello. Sorry to turn up unannounced. Sarah's been trying to get hold of you for half an hour to invite you to lunch with them, and Clyde and Rani, and me."
"Oh! Come in a minute, then."
Liz stepped inside, and closed the door. "You weren't cooking, were you?" she asked, following Martha to the kitchen.
"No, no - hadn't got as far as thinking about lunch, actually. I rang Jack to tell him my news and we were talking about the Doctor as well. I had my family here for most of the morning before that."
"Well your friends would like to help you celebrate the good news, too, if that's okay."
"I'd love to," Martha assured her. She checked the back door was locked, then glanced around the kitchen. "Should I change?"
"You look fine," Liz said, smiling. "Come on."
Martha kicked off her house shoes, then put on her outdoor shoes, grabbed her handbag and shoved her keys and mobile into it, then followed Liz out to her car.
* * * * * *
Liz drove them across the river from Richmond to Sarah Jane and Harry's Ealing home. "How are you coping with the news?"
"Processing it slowly," Martha answered. "I'm not sure which is the biggest surprise - that I am pregnant, or that it's twins."
"I know which one would surprise me the most," Liz answered, with a laugh.
"Yeah, I guess the news that it's twins is the bigger surprise. I'm glad, though. If I only get to be the mother of Mickey's child once, the fact that it's twins makes it slightly less painful. I didn't think I'd get even one child with him, so having two is a definite bonus."
"Tell me if you still feel the same in a year's time."
Martha laughed again. "Yeah, okay."
Liz pulled up behind Harry's car, and they climbed out. Before they could get to the front door it opened, and Clyde and Rani came rushing out, following a little more sedately by Sarah Jane and Harry.
"Sorry," said Harry, as the two young friends hugged Martha simultaneously. "I did try to persuade them to wait until you were indoors."
"That's okay," she assured him.
"Come on you two, let Martha come inside before you squish her," chided Sarah Jane.
They made their way back into the house and through to the kitchen where Harry opened a bottle of champagne.
"Oh, you shouldn't have!" exclaimed Martha, shocked by this extravagance.
"Of course we should," retorted Sarah Jane immediately. "It's fantastic news."
"Clyde, why don't you come and help me with the barbecue," said Harry, after handing the bottle to his wife to pour.
"Yeah, okay."
The two men went out, and Sarah Jane handed around glasses of champagne. "Rani, can you take one out to them?" she asked the younger woman, nodding at Harry and Clyde.
"Yeah, okay." She went out carrying the two glasses carefully.
Sarah Jane made Martha sit down while she and Liz got food out of the freezer and the fridge, so she buttered bread rolls as she told them about Doctor's regeneration, then the discovery of her pregnancy.
"It sounds as if he's turned out a bit grumpy," Sarah Jane remarked thoughtfully as she took burgers and sausages from freezer boxes.
"He was a bit," Martha conceded. "But then again, he had just died and transformed every single cell in his body. I think that'd make me a bit grumpy, too."
"Do you think you'll see him again, this new one, I mean?" asked Liz.
Martha shrugged. "I don't know. But probably not." She finished buttering the final roll. "Still, you never know. He's surprised me before."
"The day he stops surprising us," Sarah Jane said, "is the day we should worry, I think."
"True," agreed Liz.
"Very true," Martha said emphatically.
They took the food out into the garden, then Clyde, Rani and Liz fetched the chairs and a table, and Martha helped Sarah Jane to bring some drinks out too.
The six of them were soon supplied with food and drinks and sat around the table, laughing and talking, and Martha couldn't help contrasting this lunch with the one she'd shared with these people just a few days ago. Life went on, indeed.