Chapter Text
“What happened?” she asked the version of the Doctor who she had once wished for so desperately, as she cleaned off his face, identifying which cuts were going to require stitches. The damage was not insignificant.
Truly, she’d never seen her Doctor react so violently as he had just now, pummeling his own future face with a complete lack of restraint until she intervened. He got angry sometimes, but that kind of physical row… that was something he held back from. What could this Doctor have possibly done in the few short moments that she and Jack had been in the other room, to possibly provoke such fury?
“I could ask you the same thing,” he responded without giving her a real answer, wincing as she cleaned some of the abrasions with alcohol.
She sighed, “Is it that hard for you to imagine? I mean I know you never…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. It didn’t need to be said, not again, not when it didn’t matter anymore.
“It rather not answer that. The last time someone asked me about this it ended up in blood pouring out of my nose.”
“So it was about me?” Martha asked, ashamed at how much it cheered her up to think that HER Doctor had punched his own future over her.
“Is that surprising?”
“With you… after you…” she turned away and searched out another butterfly bandage.
“It was that bad?”
“It isn’t a question of how bad it was. It is just that with you… it was never about me.”
The Doctor shut up for once, evidently without a response to that truth, and let her anesthetize and stitch up his face. It was surreal, being close to him again but without the choking feeling of hopelessness. He was still attractive but it was like it was muffled somehow, less dangerous. She supposed this is what her non-single friends had been trying to tell her about how when you are in a happy relationship you still find other people attractive but it doesn’t really matter the same way; it doesn’t have the same weight.
Her Doctor burst in, fidgety but seeming relieved, like he had half expected to come in to the two of them making out. A smile spread across Martha’s face from the warmth she felt in the way he looked at her.
“Let me see those knuckles…” She crossed over to him and took his hands in hers. “Are you feeling calmer?”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I am now,” he promised as his lips left hers, planting another kiss afterward.
“Good. I need the two of you to go look for any alien plant life near any of victims’ homes or places of work, while I analyze this blood work. Can you do that?”
“Fine,” he huffed with exaggerated sarcasm, rolling his eyes, “ As long as you promise not to wander off, or get abducted, or-”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, “Play nice?”
“Trenchcoat here and I will be the model of teamwork,” he promised, still a little dramatically, but more or less soundly like he meant it.
“Good,” she smiled, wrapping her arms about his neck and letting her body press against his.
He picked her up, clasping his hands around her waist, and spun her around, kissing her enthusiastically. It was impossible not to feel at least a little bit giddy in his arms this way. She watched him go with a smile and a sense of security and fulfillment, ignoring the other Doctor’s facial reactions as he’d watched them. She was aware she was still grinning like a lovestruck teenager when she turned around and found Jack staring bemusedly at her.
“Don’t start,” she told him, heading back over to the microscope she had been peering into before chaos had broken out.
“I didn’t say anything,” Jack smirked, “No really. It is just good to see you so happy. Even if I am jealous…”
“I am sure it will be your turn soon.”
“It’s never my turn,” Jack echoed.
“What’s never your turn, Jack?” a third voice asked, and they both turned around to face a bow-tied and floppy haired man with that signature glimmer in his eyes.
Surely it couldn’t be… And yet somehow Martha felt it was. Seriously was it possible that there were three of them here? This was too weird.
“Doctor?” Martha hazarded, making the cognitive leap regarding his identity.
“Martha. Martha Jones!” this newcomer exclaimed, confirming his identity as he rushed toward her and gave her lopsided hug, “It is you. Oh, Martha, brilliant, beautiful, Martha Jones.” He paused his face going from joyous to serious and plaintive. “Forgive me, Martha. Forgive me… for everything.”
Martha felt like she had the wind knocked out of her, “Forgive you?” she asked.
“I was a right idiot, a proper fool…” he began. “Standing here now I can hardly believe my own memory, but there it is.”
“I do appreciate the apology, but really it is alright.”
“It is anything but… but you, you seem different,” he said, eyes scanning her over thoroughly as his outstretched hands held her shoulders.
“That makes two of us,” Martha pointed out, “Did Jack really summon you too?”
“He did indeed,” this Doctor replied, dropping his hands from Martha and abandoning his surveyal of her face to move over towards Jack, “Good to see you, Jack.”
The Doctor extended his hand out, clearly intending to shake Jack’s, only to have Jack pull him into an embrace, kissing both his cheeks and then his mouth as the Doctor’s hands remained limply trapped at his sides.
“The pleasure is all mine, Doctor. Love the bow tie.”
“Umm.. thanks,” the Doctor stayed standing in the same place as Jack released him, looking a little wide eyed,” So what untold mystery do you have for us requiring both Martha and my expertise?
“We have a string of people with memory loss,” Jack chuckled. “Oh and more than one version of you… You three times over. Guess it’s my lucky day.”
“Three of me? My that’s a lot of me. I mean one of me is more than can really be considered a fair share, but three…” this Doctor rambled on, boastful and self effacing all in the same breath.
It was strange, she had immediately recognized this Doctor as the Doctor and yet it felt so different. She contemplated the issue as she sat back down to examine the samples Jack had acquired. She felt a fondness for this new Doctor but none of the passion for him that she had for his predecessors. She supposed that this was what the Doctor felt when they travelled together that first time. No, she thought, This Doctor is still important to me, even if I don’t have a burning desire to feel his body against mine.
Standing up at this moment, it was as if the universe had read her mind as she nearly collided with that same Doctor who was walking over to Jack’s computer display, their faces ending up inches apart.
“My apologies, Miss Jones,” he overdramatized, reaching out and picking up her hand and kissing it. It was an odd gesture.
“You have got to stop apologizing,” she shook her head, amused at this model’s mannerisms, “And it’s Doctor Jones now, remember.”
“Of course,” he frittered almost nervously, “Doctor Jones. Brilliant Doctor Martha Jones.”
“You can still call me, Martha,” she reassured him with a laugh, “Even if I’m still getting used to the sight of you as… well you.”
“You know, you could have called anytime,” he told her, “There’s a reason I left you with a TARDIS key.”
“Yeah. Probably because you forgot about it,” she teased, but he seemed to take it a bit more seriously than she intended.
“I’m being serious, Martha. You’d love the new TARDIS layout. And well seeing you right now, being who I am right now… Things could be different- would be different if you came back.”
She was a bit taken aback. Yes, like all of them, she recognized he didn’t want to be alone. It didn’t have to be her, though. She’d known that the first trip out, that first Doctor had made it so clear. Yet this one wanted her to come back.
“I appreciate the offer, really. It’s good to see you… meet this you. That time has passed though, for me.”
This Doctor’s apology had been one thing, something she chalked up to time and a difference in manners rather than a change of heart. Now, she felt more there under the renewed invitation. She wondered what she would have made of this had she met him earlier, had she not met her Doctor. She supposed it didn’t matter.
“It really would be different, Martha. I mean it,” he told her, seeming to misinterpret her reluctance as fear of opening old wounds, “This version of me, seeing you now I truly feel-”
“Ahh… but that’s just the thing,” she cut him off before he could get any further, “I don’t.”
Part of Martha felt like laughing but she didn’t. It was absurd yes, but not funny.
“You really have changed,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to conceal wounded pride. “I take it you’ve moved on then? Like you wanted that friend of yours to do.”
“Yes. No. I mean, it’s just different,” she responded, stepping back a few inches. How could she explain to this Doctor.
“Right. Good. Very good then,” he blathered, looking a bit saddened, “of course that’s the way it would work.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him, feeling pity for his situation.
“Probably serves me right,” he countered, “I never did manage to do right by you, Martha. You were a marvel of a companion: brilliant, kind, determined… and I was always so preoccupied with other things.”
It was at this moment that the other two Doctors returned and all chaos broke loose.
Trenchcoat and his ridiculous hair had been one thing but returning to find Bow Tie had joined the party made this whole situation absurd.
The Doctor had brought back a sample of an alien slug he and Trenchcoat were pretty sure was the source of the amnesia, only to find that Bowtie was making moves on Martha.
The Doctor’s hearts were in his throat. He knew that Martha worried about the future, about how his future self wasn’t going to remember her, about how much future they had left. Bow Tie, on the other hand, he was a future version of himself, his storyline was open ended to Martha. He could honor her memory long after she was gone. It stood to reason that she might leave him for the better offer. He couldn’t blame her.
Still, she turned away from Bow Tie who looked a bit deflated, and when she saw him her eyes lit up in a way that made his hearts beat faster.
He reached for her, drawing her close. Despite himself he couldn’t seem to stop worrying about something happening to her. To lose her would wreck him. He was aware of everyone’s eyes on him, but she was the only one he wanted to look at.
“Do you remember that?” Bow Tie mouthed rather loudly to Trenchcoat, gesturing towards them, “Because I definitely do not.”
The next thing he knew the alarms in Jack’s lab started going off, piercing sirens warning of imminent doom.
“I’m not sure what’s making it go off like this.” Jack looked generally confused as he searched the displays for an answer.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that it is three Doctors in one place and time,” Martha suggested, walking over to join Jack at the control panel.
No one seemed to have a counter to that idea. The Doctor certainly didn’t; he’d learned a while back that Martha was usually right and this made sense.
“Why did you summon all of us here, Jack?” Bow Tie asked, curious with an edge of suspicion.
“Too much power of positive thinking, Jack? Were you practicing ‘The Secret’ again?” Martha smirked.
“While that is an inspired idea,” Jack replied, “it was an accident...honest. I was just trying to get one of you, but I guess I must have accidentally sent the message out to multiple points in your timeline.”
Martha had sat down at the computer and was calling up different command queries furiously. The Doctor had learned that in addition to medicine, psychology, child care, and humanitarian work, computers- technology was another of Martha’s strong points. He had yet to find any weak ones… well, except maybe for a couple of moves that were pretty effective for making her weak in the knees.
“Fuck! No. No, this ISN’T happening…”
He was at her side before he realized he was moving. The look of horror on her face filled him with dread as well.
“This is it,” she whispered, “The paradox… all of you being here at the same time. You don’t remember it; because, that’s what alters your memory.”
Her words sent a chill to his bones. He scanned her computations, wishing that just this once they were going to be wrong. They had to be wrong.
“She’s right,” Bowtie concurred, “Martha, I’m…”
“Don’t tell me you are sorry. Don’t you dare,” Martha snapped, pushing away from them all, tears in her eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” he tried to tell her, reaching out and wrapping his arms back around her, “This paradox is just this afternoon.”
Surely that stood to reason. Why should such an event ripple back years after such a short moment of paradox? Yet some part of him couldn’t forget the way that both future versions of himself had forgotten his time with Martha. There was no denying now that she was right that he was going to forget being with her someday.
“And what if it is not?” she cried, turning her face away, “What if this is when you forget, why you don’t remember?”
The thought terrified him. It had been so hard to come back to himself, without Martha he wasn’t sure he ever would have. Was this the reason he was so callous in his future, because he didn’t have the memory of Martha Jones bringing him back from the brink? Surely, even if he lost his memories, he could discover her again, fall in love with all of her charms fresh.
“Then you make me remember,” he insisted, turning her face back towards his with his hand on her face, till their eyes met, “If I forget, you make me remember. Martha, listen. I need you. Without you… Look, I wasn’t okay. When you met me I was not alright and if I forget, if I forget you and us I am going right back there… to the days after the war.”
She shook her head, trembling.
“I wish I could. Oh, Doctor, you have no idea. I’m not the one who helps put you back together though. I’m not that girl. It’s her… It’s Rose.”
Martha’s words had a feeling of prophecy, a hard metal reverberance of an Oracle foretelling the fall of a kingdom.
“Rose?” he asked, hoping to stall her by asking for an explanation.
She didn’t take the bait though, merely sighing, “I don’t get to keep you. I am pretty sure that no one does.”
Martha’s tears were running down her face now as she kissed him. He held on to her, trying to fight the panic that was bleeding over from her to him.
She pulled away, grabbing his hand and dragging him out to the TARDIS.
“When you get inside, Doctor… this first trip is going to do the trick. The minute you leave this time and place you are going to forget.”
“Then I won’t go. Simple enough,” he told her, and he meant it even though he knew it is ridiculous, even though he had done the calculations by then and she was right.
It truly wasn’t just this afternoon he would lose, as the earlier point in his personal timeline he would be impacted exponentially compared to the others. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right… he had to be able to come up with a solution or what good was that massive brain of his anyway.
Martha stepped inside the TARDIS and he had no choice but to follow her. His arms wrapped around her, picking her up and placing her on the console as he kissed her deeply.
“I love you, Martha Jones,” he murmured against her lips, a reassurance and a plea. Don’t leave me. Don’t let me lose you.
She hands moved to the front of his trousers and started to work them open as she kissed him hard. He followed her lead, unfastening her jeans. He thought to sink down onto the floor and use his mouth on her, persuade her to change her mind, but she grabbed hold of him and pulled him against her needily, pressing against him with clear intentions.
“Doctor-” she almost cried as he slid into her, hands grasping his back hard as she pressed forward into him frantically, lips crushing his. This wasn’t going to be sweet lingering lovemaking. It was rough and fast and desperate and before he knew it she was screaming his name and he hers, as they finished together.
He tried to hold her close, but she pushed him away, pulling her clothing back into place and ducking out of his arms as she punched commands into the TARDIS controls.
“Martha-” he begged, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him.
He could see the tension, feel it, knew that she was using every ounce of her not inconsiderable willpower to push through this goodbye. That was Martha, determined to be strong, knowing the limits of her endurance. She was making this quick because she knew it was the only way she could face it without wavering. She wanted to be strong for them both, not to break.
“Don’t make this harder,” she choked out. “I’m setting the course for London: 2005. That’s where you are going. That’s where she is.”
The word “she” in that sentence was hard and bitter, just as the name she had uttered earlier had been. He began to put the pieces together, surmise who this Rose must be to his future, in her past. He wanted to protest. He wanted to refuse. Whoever this person was, she couldn’t replace Martha. He didn’t want her to.
“Martha…” he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry but he was pretty sure that would be the worst thing. He hoped that they were both wrong, that he’d get to London and remember to head right back to her.
She kissed him again: fierce and determined. When they pulled apart she had shred some of the bitterness she’d been battling. Her eyes shone and her voice rang true as she told him, “I love you. I always have and I always will. Thank you for this; this time with you has meant everything.”
As the TARDIS started to creak and groan, Martha slipped out of the door, leaving him behind.
Wait! The Doctor thought, but it was too late.
Martha leaned against the side of the building, gasping for air as she held back the sobs that threatened to overtake her. The TARDIS winked out of sight and she forced herself to turn away, not to wait pointlessly. Despite his protests, the Doctor wouldn’t be able to stop the memory loss. He wasn’t coming back.
With grim determination she walked in the other direction, back to Jack and the wrong Doctor… Doctors. Each step was painful, difficult, as if she were climbing Mount Everest. They got easier though, as she rounded the corner and headed inside. The worst is over, she told herself.
She’d survived The Master, the destruction of Earth as she knew it. She’d survived catastrophe after catastrophe. Martha Jones was going to survive The Doctor having his memory erased. She was going to survive like countless widows whose husbands were never coming home. It was a small tragedy, really: private and mundane.
She heard a second TARDIS departing and knew which Doctor it would be. He wouldn’t want to stay, wouldn’t want to face her.
When she found them, Jack and this new Doctor were standing a little too close not to notice and she felt terrible for interrupting. How would she have felt if someone had done that to her when she finally found her moment? So she stood at watched them for a moment, noticing the differences. He was definitely the Doctor alright, but as different from the two others she had known as they were from each other.
It took them awhile to realize she was there.
“I hate to ask but… I’m going to need a ride back to the 21st Century,” she apologized.
“It’s the least I can do,” he told her, his eyes sad and older than his face.
“Martha-” Jack started.
“I’m fine. Or at least I will be. Look, I got everything, everything that I didn’t think I was going to. How many of us can say that? Now I am just going to have to find something new to want. That’s what happens,” she added, realizing her words were true as she spoke them. “That’s what happens when your dreams come true.”
She realized suddenly that it didn’t matter that the Doctor wasn’t going to remember her. She would: one advantage of being human. She’d remember their adventures and the way they’d clung to one another. She’d remember the joy of rediscovering themselves with one another. She’d remember the way he never forgot who she was or why she mattered, even if the space-time continuum was going to unwrite it.
“Are you sure I can’t interest you in a little trip somewhere exciting?” this Doctor asked, cautiously optimistic, “You too, Jack.”
Martha found herself smiling. She had work to do back home, but she wasn’t quite ready to come back down to Earth… so to speak.
“Well, I did have a couple more destinations on my bucket list,” she agreed.
“Count me in,” Jack grinned, grabbing his coat.
“I suppose one advantage of being a later version of yourself is that you don’t have to worry so much about spoiling your timeline,” Martha teased, at ease with this new Doctor.
“So… where to?”
“Not New Earth,” Jack and Martha chimed in simultaneously.
I am going to be fine. She repeated to herself. She was really definitely almost beginning to believe that.