Table Challenge, Part One Completed
I got tired of spamming, so I decided to post the whole first part of my table challenge together, with a few added parts, for simplicity. :) Everything I've done so far, with the added bonus of Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty, The Wolf And The Seven Kids, and The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
Title: The Valiant: A Fractured Fairy Tale, Part One.
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,217
Fandom: Doctor Who
Prompt: Almost all of my given prompts (link to table here)
Character: Martha, Jack, Master, Lucy, Doctor
Spoilers: End of Season Three
Warnings: Some sexual situations hinted at.
Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who nor Into The Woods.
Author's Notes: I had an idea of intertwining the themes in my table for a sort of alternate season three, where Martha stays on the Valiant instead of going off on her own.
I. MARTHA THE LIAR
She clutches the time manipulator (or whatever it's called) in her hand and stands there, looking away from the Doctor, Jack, and her terrified family. She is trembling. Martha can barely press the button-- her hands are hot and clammy.
But he turns around too quickly for her, and in the next minute she feels heat and burning and can smell burnt leather. White smoke whisps upwards from her sore hands. “What is that, Martha?” he asks, leaving his wife by the window and coming towards her.
She is so terrified that she loses her ability to speak. “It's... nothing. It's nothing.” She repeats it over and over again, mostly because no one in that room believes her. There is ash on her hands and she can still smell burnt leather.
“Nothing?” His tone is mockingly gentle as he bends down to pick up the vortex manipulator. He holds the remains between two fingers, away from him, as if it's something he's just picked up out of the garbage. “This doesn't look like 'nothing' to me, Martha.”
Martha wishes she were brave enough to come up with something witty, something defiant, but the words don't come to her. All she can think of is the sound of the screams on the radio and the sound of her own heart hammering in her chest, echoing in her head. It occurs to her, as if the thought comes from a distant universe, that she is afraid that she is going to die. “It's just something I picked up off the ground. Rubbish.” She doesn't know what she's saying, or why she even feels the need to lie. Her only hope, their only hope, is gone now. It doesn't even matter.
He examines her, head titled to the side. He is still holding the damn thing in his right hand. “I don't really like liars, Martha. There's consequences for lying on my ship. Take her family back to prison.”
And the sounds of the screaming on Earth echo in her mind as she watches her family being dragged away from her.
II. ON THE STEPS OF THE PALACE
He seems to like watching her work. After he destroyed her only means of escape, he handed her a maid's uniform and demanded she work, his very own Cinderella.
She thinks of Disneyland, tall castles made out of plastic, with a blond-haired woman crooning, “Some day my Prince will come.” (Was that Snow White? She thinks it might actually be Snow White who desperately wanted her prince to come.) As she watches circles of soapy water spread out in front of her, she thinks of waiting for princes to come. Her prince had been a fallacy. Her prince had only been there when it was convenient for him.
She doesn't need him anyway. And she highly doubts Prince Charming is supposed to come in the form of a 150 year old man. Martha scrubs the floor a little bit harder, remembering 1913 in all its glory. Except this time she doesn't have a companion to giggle with. This situation is much more hopeless. If she stays with the Doctor, will she be subject to this treatment wherever they go?
The realization that she doesn't need the Doctor is surprisingly liberating. Her stomach feels lighter and she can take a deep breath without feeling the weight of the world on her chest.
She almost smiles, thinking of what she'll say to him when they get out of this mess: (“I've enjoyed my time with you, Doctor, but I think it's about time I move on, you know?” or maybe even: “I've actually found my Prince Charming, and he's very much not you.”)
The Master ruins her thought process, as he so often does. She can hear the sound of his shoes behind her, no doubt polished and shiny as always. “Almost finished?” he asks gruffly.
She shrugs, not wanting to give him the pleasure of a response. Martha clenches her jaw and continues working. Honestly, she's afraid that what she says next will get her into trouble.
But this silence proves to be too much for him. He pours light brown tea on the floor where she's already cleaned. The thick liquid spirals out on the wet floor, standing out against the black tile. When he leaves, she curses him silently.
As she so often does, she scrubs the floor as hard as she can, imagining that it is the Master's face she is wiping away.
III. LIPS AS RED AS BLOOD
Lucy really is vain.
Martha stands behind her, brushing the long, blond hair. The woman stares into the mirror in front of them, barely even blinking.
“I love him, you know,” Lucy says distantly, as if her mind is a million miles away. “Do you love yours?”
At first, Martha can't tell what Lucy is talking about, but finally puts two and two together enough to realize that Lucy is asking if she loves her Time Lord- the Doctor. “As a friend,” she says, gently pulling a section of her hair aside and brushing the rest.
“Just a friend? I saw how you looked at him before he got to be 150 years old.”
“I don't know what you mean,” Martha says, trying to brush off Lucy's comment. Her voice indicates that she is about to become nasty, and Martha hates nasty-Lucy. She can be almost as bad as the Master, if the mood strikes. Lucy applies her lipstick until her lips are red, standing out against her pale features. There is a bruise on her cheek, and Martha doesn't even want to know how she got it. “I'm much more beautiful than you,” Lucy says, “but don't worry. With a bit of make-up I'm sure you're decent.”
Martha does not respond, wondering if Lucy is jealous of her. The Doctor cares about her, Jack cares about her, and the Master gives her (unwanted) attention. Lucy does not seem to have a friend on board the ship.
Lucy turns around suddenly and grabs Martha's wrist. “Don't lie to me. You love him.” Her voice is full of venom, and Martha clenches.
“Even if I do, why should it matter?” Martha says. “It really is no concern of yours.”
“Such cheek,” Lucy says coolly. Much to Martha's surprise, she lets go of her wrist and stares in the mirror again. Finally, when her hair has been brushed to her satisfaction, she blinks and says, “You may go.”
Martha bobs her head as she's been instructed to do and heads to the door. Just as her hand touches the handle, Lucy speaks again. “They've killed Tish, you know. Sent her to the labor camps and she couldn't handle the conditions. You're so lucky you're not out there, and yet you're so ungrateful.”
Martha spun around, gawking at Lucy. She felt as if Lucy has succeeded in ripping her heart out. Why has she told her now? What is she trying to prove? Without another word, she opens the door and slams it, stalking down the hall. She's not even sure where she's going; she just has to increase the amount of space between her and Lucy.
She ends up in the dungeon, looking at Jack through bars. For once, he is not tied up; he is just sitting there, staring off into space. “Hello there, kid,” Jack says kindly.
Jack's kind voice is enough to make her cry. She sobs and Jack stands, then puts his hand out between the bars. She grabs it and he squeezes her hand. “Just let it out. I'll watch over you. I'll protect you. Sssh.”
IV.SEA FOAM, FOREVER
He sits in his black chair, one foot on the table. He uses it to pivot himself back and forth, and Martha is painfully aware that he is leaving black marks on the floor-- ones she'll have to clean later. “I have an idea.”
She ignores him. He often muses out loud, and she has become aware of more evil plans than she ever wished to know. Martha thinks absurdly that all he needs is a cat to stroke while he thinks out loud.
“I can let you go if you kill him,” the Master says. He's not looking at her, he's staring at the wall, but it doesn't matter. Martha knows the words are intended for her-- who else would they be for? “I mean, if he means so little to you.”
He reaches down next to him and pulls up a big metal gun. “This was found on your brother before he was taken into the labor camps. It can kill a Time Lord stone dead, which is ironic because I think it was meant for me.” He laughs delightedly. “All you have to do is kill him and you're free to go home.”
“Why don't you just do it?” Martha asks, staring the gun rather than at him.
“Because it's much more fun to watch you try.”
XXXX
The Doctor sleeps. In his weakened state, he sleeps far more often than he ever did on the TARDIS. Sometimes Martha suspects that he's faking it; his mind is always wandering on to the next thing, the next adventure, the next plan. The Master follows her into the darkened conference room that night, and her hands are trembling. “Freedom,” he whispers, and Martha feels like she has been placed into a very bad, cliché-ridden film.
She steps forward, holding the gun in the Doctor's direction. Her hands are trembling so violently she thinks she will drop it.
And she does drop it, on purpose.
“You do it,” she says darkly. “If it means so much to you, you do it.”
“So you like this, do you?” He says, grabbing her roughly and pushing her out the door.
The next morning, when Martha brings the Doctor his food, she swears that he winks at her.
V.ROBBING THE RICH TO GIVE TO THE POOR
He dances with her to the tune of Mozart-- deep, sometimes violent, minor chords fill the tiny room. At first, she is cleaning the table, listening to the Requiem slowly build to a climax. He comes up from behind her and grabs her around the waist. She resists at first and he holds on to her tighter. Then he spins her around and grabs her hand in his. Martha feels lightheaded, full of disgust. But he is holding on to her so tightly she finds it hard to resist.
She finds it ironic that they are slowly dancing to a Requiem. It is one day after she watched Japan burn to the ground and she feels as if the Earth requires a beautiful sound like the Requiem. She cries, but neither of them acknowledge it, and the tears eventually fall to the floor in front of her.
And then the hand around her waist slips down so that it is resting on small of her back, and she slaps his hand away, frightened. But the hand eventually finds its way up her dress and on her skin, and she pushes him away. “Don't touch me!” she yells and storms out of the room.
She is terrified for one moment that he is following her, but she is able to lose him, thank God. She finds her way down to the dungeon, her one solace. There is a guard who sometimes watches over Jack and he is decent. He always looks away when the Master tortures him, and he lets her visit Jack even though the Master forbids it.
He winks at her and opens the door to Jack's cell when she comes in. “Hello, there, kid,” Jack says, the way he always does, and she sits down next to him, arms folded. The air is freezing cold, and Martha wonders how Jack can stand it.
“I'm not a kid,” Martha says vaguely.
“I know that,” Jack says. “I just--”
“Ssh,” Martha responds, adjusting her position so she can lie down with her head on Jack's lap. He starts to stroke her hair gently, both of them concentrating on the steady rhythm. It soothes Martha, and she feels completely relaxed. After a long time in that position, Martha sits up and rubs her eyes. “I should go. You're probably...”
Jack stares at her sadly. “If it's okay, if it won't get you into trouble, can you stay with me?”
Martha stops, stunned. She steals a glance at the guard, and he looks back at her. He nods once and says, “I'll make your excuses for you.” She wonders how he can read her mind-- does her face betray that she longs to be with him? She finds a somewhat comfortable position, lying on the hard bench. He lies down behind her, their bodies matched up almost perfectly. It is still uncomfortable, but the fact that Jack is there makes it a little more bearable. He reaches over and grabs her hand, and they fall asleep together, Martha aware of his light breathing against her back.
VI.AND BEHIND THIS DOOR IS A SECRET
Link to the story here, for context.
He doesn't bother her, not for a long time. But then he starts to suspect. He is evil, he is insane, he pounds out that rhythm all of the time, but he is not stupid. He storms in one night while she is scrubbing the table and declares that one of his guards is not doing his job and that he will be caught. She wonders what the Master is thinking-- does he honestly think that the Doctor, Jack, or herself will give him up?
Then she decides it's a fear tactic, it has to be.
In the midst of sending out the Toclafane to kill her brother (who has escaped and is evidently the leader of a resistance group in Bath) he figures out that the key to his problem is Martha.
He wakes her up out of a dead sleep one night and, before she has a chance to figure out how to get out of the situation, he pins her to the bed with his body and touches the temples of her head. A shock of pain fills her head and she cries out. He merely says “Ssh” in a mocking voice and continues.
He is aware that he is opening doors to her mind, frantically trying to find the right one. He opens them and slams them, looking in on family Christmases and her first date, and the first time she ever fooled around with a boy and he laughs at this image of her, but he continues, trying to find the other doors. She imagines each door closing, one by one. When he finds another door, she imagines that it is locked. He has to tug on it and Martha cries out in pain.
“Now Martha, that's not very nice,” she is vaguely aware of him saying as if from far away. He presses on her forehead tighter and she screams. The door has opened in an explosion of agony.
Pain like nothing she has ever experienced floods through her and she has to think of something comforting to take her mind off of it. It's been awhile since she's studied. She tries to think of as many medical terms as she can: “Peristeum, marrow, vessels, osteoblasts. The skull-- occipital, parietals, frontal...”
Then he opens the wrong door and she screams, screams, screams. His rage floods through her as if they are one and the door slams shut, echoing throughout her mind.
“I think I've found what I need,” he says, finally getting off of her and standing to his feet. “All three of you will be punished, of course, although I'm not sure what I can do to Jack that I haven't already done.” He laughs again, the insane sound filling her tiny room.
VII. LET DOWN YOUR HAIR
He makes her stand on the main deck when he decides to blow up Japan, just because he can. She watches, feeling somewhat detached, as if this is happening to someone else and not her. He has also brought Jack and the Doctor along for viewing. Jack grabs her hand when she tenses and they watch together as the first bombs are dropped over Mount Fuji.
It is spectacular. She can hear the screams coming from the people who live there (it is climbing season, God, there are people on that mountain) and she can see the smoke rising from where the mountain used to be. There is nothing left. Then the bombs descend on Tokyo, then the north, the west, and the east. She can close her eyes, but there is nothing to keep her from hearing the panic and terror. She cannot understand the words-- the TARDIS has stopped translating-- but she can recognize extreme fear in their voices.
Japan no longer exists, it has been wiped off the face of the Earth.
Then there is silence. The Master is breathing heavily, Lucy is staring in blank horror, and the Doctor looks away, obviously pained. He catches Martha's eye and nods slowly. He understands-- she and Jack. They have been getting each other through the difficult times.
When the Master leaves the room, Martha grabs the Doctor's hand too, and the three of them stand together. They don't need to talk-- they just are. And maybe it's a reminder to all of them that they are still alive and that they are not dying, too.
And as long as all three of them continue to breathe there is hope.
VIII. AND I'LL BRING YOU A ROSE
Christmas comes too quickly for Martha's liking. It is too painful for her to see the world from the Master's giant screen. No one has decorated for the holiday; instead snow falls gently on top of ash and mixes with the smoke rising from each city. This year the snow is ugly and gives her no pleasure.
“If I could bring you a present, Miss Jones, what would it be?” he asks, crossing behind her while she mops. “It's Christmas, you know.”
She ignores him and continues to work. He only continues to pester her, trying to get her crack, perhaps. “Oh, come on. There has to be something you want dearly. Freedom, perhaps?”
Martha does not even care anymore. Half the time he brings up that word just to taunt her with it and then laughs when she dares to have a hopeful expression.
“Not that? No? Well. How about one night with your handsome Jack?”
She presses the mop down hard against the floor. How could anyone be so awful? “Anything I want?” she asks.
“Anything.”
“Set him free.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Let him go back to his team. Some of them are dead anyway.” Admittedly, her first thought was to have him release the Doctor, but that would have been silly. The Doctor is the reason they are all here in the first place.
He laughs softly. “Well, Miss Jones, that was certainly unexpected.”
She shrugs and stares at the darkened floor where the water has already spread. “You said anything.” Martha keeps her tone at an even keel. The first rule to living on board the Valiant is that you never let on that he is getting to you.
“That's not it-- I thought you'd ask for your own freedom. So I was mistaken?”
“Evidently.”
He laughs again, this time sounding more delighted, and claps his hands. “Oh, Martha, you never fail to astonish me! I'll tell a guard to transport him back to Cardiff immediately. Or I suppose we could just push him out of the window. It wouldn't matter in the long run, right?”
She glares at him until he laughs and says coldly, “It was a joke, Martha.”
It is everything Martha can do to keep from dropping the mop in surprise.
The Master does not put up a fuss. He just tells the guard to transport Jack out of the Valiant. In fact, Martha would never have known that he'd done the deed, except that one night she walked past Jack's cell and he was no longer there to smile or speak words of encouragement to her.
Later, she wonders if Jack ever thinks about her stuck up there alone, or if he is too happy to be back with his team to remember her.
She is not sure which idea is worse.
IX.A BED SURROUNDED BY THORNS
Martha is always the last one to retire at night. She has to be-- she has to clean up after everyone else. One night she walks past the Master's luxurious bedroom and can just see Lucy lying on the bed with her silk pajamas on.
She finds a corner where she can eavesdrop, where no one will be able to see her. She suspects Lucy has been in for a rough time but she is strangely curious to see if it is true. When the Master turns around and sees his wife, he runs to the bed and pounces on her playfully. It is almost like they are normal young lovers. But then he begins to untie his tie and wrap it around Lucy's wrists, Lucy barely putting up a fuss. “You like it this way, don't you?” he says roughly.
Lucy doesn't say a word.
“You're so boring, love,” he continues, slowly moving his head down so he can kiss her. “You used to have so much spark and energy. Where did it go?” He strokes her hair and kisses her again. It does not look romantic. But numerous kisses they share on the upper decks of the Valiant never do. He unbuttons his shirt and begins to move down Lucy's body with his hands, first stroking her neck, then sliding his hand under her pajama tops. She breathes heavily and then squirms as his hand slides down her pajama bottoms. He begins to take them off slowly, playing with her for a bit, and listening to her giggles as he kisses her belly. “You can't do anything to stop me,” he says, now stroking her stomach gently. “Isn't that wonderful? Isn't it exhilarating?” He shrugs off his shirt and rests on top of her for a moment.
She kisses him back, trying to encourage him to continue.
“But see, Lucy, and now this is a lesson to you,” he says, suddenly stopping and sitting on top of his wife, “if you're bad, if you start doubting me, you won't feel any pleasure, yeah? Good girls get good things. You just have to trust me.”
He raises her arms up over her head and pulls the covers up over both of them so that Martha can no longer see what they are doing. Good. She is just about to walk away when she hears a mutter and then, “Martha.”
She stops mid-track. Can he hear her? Does he know she's standing there?
“What?” he hears Lucy say. “Another one of your whores? Who knew, the servant girl is another one.” She hears him fall to the floor and she can't help but be a little proud. Lucy is fighting back, finally. “I know you watch her when you think I'm not looking. You claim that you're making sure that she doesn't try anything funny, but I can see you're staring at her ass.”
The punch, when it comes, is sickening. Even Martha can hear it.
X. BEWARE, FOR HERE COMES THE WOLF
Link to the story here, for context.
Several days later the TARDIS moans and Martha sneaks over to see what is wrong with her this time. The paradox machine has taken its toll; sometimes the TARDIS appears to be sicker than on other days. But then she makes a noise that sounds almost like pleasure, and Martha is puzzled.
She opens the door (the Master doesn't even bother to lock it; with the paradox machine being what it is, it's not like they can go anywhere anyway) and sees a blurry image in front of her. The image clears and she sees a young woman about her age, with blonde hair and a sad expression on her face. The first thing Martha notices is the woman's thick mascara and large lips and thinks “This could be Rose.”
The woman speaks first. “Is the Doctor all right?” she asks in a light Cockney accent.
“No,” Martha admits, because she sees that the woman is kind and somehow trusts her.
“Jack managed to get through to me using a rift,” she explains. “He told me your world is in danger and that the Doctor is dying. Is that true?”
Martha nods, not sure of what to say. “Are you Rose?” she asks.
The woman smiles, obviously pleased that Martha knows. “I used to travel with the Doctor before we got separated.”
“He still loves you,” Martha says, because she is no longer jealous and she feels as if Rose needs to know.
The woman smiles even wider, if that is possible, and says, “Thank you. Jack says thank you as well, by the way.”
Martha smiles at this. No, she can't hate Rose Tyler; there is something about her that makes her impossible to hate.
“I have an idea,” Rose continues, “and it won't be pleasant and I don't even know if it'll work for you, but we have to try, yeah?” The image becomes even clearer. “I'm not real as I can't really cross into your universe. I'm just a hologram set up by the Torchwood on your universe and mine, but I'm going to try to help you. Understand?”
Martha nods. She is not sure what a hologram can do, but if Rose really does have an idea, she's willing to try anything.
“I am what they call the Bad Wolf,” she explains. “Once I wanted to get to the Doctor so I opened the heart of the TARDIS and the Bad Wolf lives inside of me now. You've got to do the same, you've got to become the Bad Wolf. It'll be dangerous, and it'll hurt, and if you succeed, the Doctor will most likely try to suck it out of you, but you can't let him. If he does, he'll regenerate. You've got to channel that energy as much as you can, understand?”
Martha wonders how many times Rose will say 'understand' in the next few minutes, bust she nods again. Suddenly, she hears the Master's voice from outside the TARDIS. “Martha? Martha Jo-ones,” he says in a sing-song voice. She shudders and Rose does, too.
“We have to be quick,” Rose says, pointing to the panel on the ground of the TARDIS. “Look into it. You could be saving everyone involved if you do it right. And if he comes in, I'll protect you. Don't worry.”
Martha finds a screwdriver on the floor (did the TARDIS put it there on purpose?) and opens the gate. Energy flows into her, red hot and so, so wrong. She feels dizzy, as if she's going to be sick. And her head is killing her. “It's not right!” she screams.
“Ssh!” Rose reminds her. “It's because the TARDIS is sick, I think. I dunno!”
There is a violent flash of something-- Martha does not even understand it-- and she can suddenly see all of space and time, literally billions of possibilities unfolding in front of her. Possibilities she didn't even know existed.
It goes away just as fast, and Martha cries for the first time since landing on the ship. “I can't do this,” she tells Rose.
“Yes, you can! You have to! Channel the energy!” Rose's voice is rising, becoming more desperate. “I can hear him, you're in danger!”
“Martha? Martha?” he says, and even though he is not standing the room with her, she can see him, and he is weak and so, so tiny. Earth is tiny, Earth does not matter. And she realizes Rose has come back only to save her Doctor and rage wells up inside of her, but then again, that does not matter.
She feels nauseous. She falls to the ground, weak, just as the Master opens the door to the TARDIS, Rose vanishes, and the TARDIS gives a large moan.
XI. WHO'S AFRAID OF THE BIG, BAD WOLF?
“There you are,” he says. “Running off like that. I think this time you really will have to be punished.” His voice seems to come from a billion miles away. She is conscious of it, but his words do not matter. “You know I hate it when my servants defy me.”
“I am not your servant,” she says, because she no longer has control over her own words.
“What?” he laughs, grabbing her wrist roughly and twisting it. “You've defied me twice in an hour. I daresay I'm impressed.”
Her wrist is on fire, but it's nothing compared to her head.
“Come on,” he says roughly, and attempts to drag her to her feet. When he succeeds, he holds her, arms pinned in front of her.
“Do not touch me.”
He laughs yet again and God he is hurting her, but she doesn't care. He takes something out of his pocket-- handcuffs-- and dangles them in front of her. Then he spins her around to face him. One second later, he looks absolutely terrified. “Who are you?” he says in a voice no louder than a whisper. He drops the handcuffs, now forgotten.
“I am the Bad Wolf.”
“But-- that's impossible,” he says.
“I absorbed the Time Vortex, too. I am infinity. You are small. You are an impossibility.”
“No,” he whispers, eyes round and terrified.
“I am everything. You will not harm me.” And just by thinking it so, she causes him to fall to the ground, away from her. She thinks of the Doctor, restored to his youthful energy, and she thinks of life before this-- she realizes she has the power to set time. She places it to right after Winters was shot but before the Toclafane were released.
“No,” he continues to whisper, over and over again.
A few seconds later, the Doctor enters. He really has been restored to full health. “Martha,” he whispers sadly. “He's mine to deal with.”
Martha grabs on to the console for strength. Just as soon as she sees the Doctor, the power of the Time deserts her and floats back into the grate of the TARDIS. It is red and purple and violent. She trembles, feeling weak now.
“We're the last of the Timelords,” the Doctor says. “You'll be travelling with me from now on.”
“You mean you're just going to... keep me?” the Master says incredulously.
They do not notice Lucy slipping through the opened door until they hear the gunshot. It echoes terribly in the TARDIS' main room. The Master has been hit. “It's always the women,” he says, nodding in Martha's and Lucy's direction.
The Doctor runs to him and holds him in his arms. “Come on, it's just one little bullet. Regenerate.” He shakes him. “Regenerate!”
“No,” the Master says, a smile playing on his lips. And with that, he dies. It is all over.
Martha hangs on just long enough to hear the Doctor's frantic and desperate cries, and then she succumbs to exhaustion.
~END OF PART ONE~
Title: The Valiant: A Fractured Fairy Tale, Part One.
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,217
Fandom: Doctor Who
Prompt: Almost all of my given prompts (link to table here)
Character: Martha, Jack, Master, Lucy, Doctor
Spoilers: End of Season Three
Warnings: Some sexual situations hinted at.
Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who nor Into The Woods.
Author's Notes: I had an idea of intertwining the themes in my table for a sort of alternate season three, where Martha stays on the Valiant instead of going off on her own.
I. MARTHA THE LIAR
She clutches the time manipulator (or whatever it's called) in her hand and stands there, looking away from the Doctor, Jack, and her terrified family. She is trembling. Martha can barely press the button-- her hands are hot and clammy.
But he turns around too quickly for her, and in the next minute she feels heat and burning and can smell burnt leather. White smoke whisps upwards from her sore hands. “What is that, Martha?” he asks, leaving his wife by the window and coming towards her.
She is so terrified that she loses her ability to speak. “It's... nothing. It's nothing.” She repeats it over and over again, mostly because no one in that room believes her. There is ash on her hands and she can still smell burnt leather.
“Nothing?” His tone is mockingly gentle as he bends down to pick up the vortex manipulator. He holds the remains between two fingers, away from him, as if it's something he's just picked up out of the garbage. “This doesn't look like 'nothing' to me, Martha.”
Martha wishes she were brave enough to come up with something witty, something defiant, but the words don't come to her. All she can think of is the sound of the screams on the radio and the sound of her own heart hammering in her chest, echoing in her head. It occurs to her, as if the thought comes from a distant universe, that she is afraid that she is going to die. “It's just something I picked up off the ground. Rubbish.” She doesn't know what she's saying, or why she even feels the need to lie. Her only hope, their only hope, is gone now. It doesn't even matter.
He examines her, head titled to the side. He is still holding the damn thing in his right hand. “I don't really like liars, Martha. There's consequences for lying on my ship. Take her family back to prison.”
And the sounds of the screaming on Earth echo in her mind as she watches her family being dragged away from her.
II. ON THE STEPS OF THE PALACE
He seems to like watching her work. After he destroyed her only means of escape, he handed her a maid's uniform and demanded she work, his very own Cinderella.
She thinks of Disneyland, tall castles made out of plastic, with a blond-haired woman crooning, “Some day my Prince will come.” (Was that Snow White? She thinks it might actually be Snow White who desperately wanted her prince to come.) As she watches circles of soapy water spread out in front of her, she thinks of waiting for princes to come. Her prince had been a fallacy. Her prince had only been there when it was convenient for him.
She doesn't need him anyway. And she highly doubts Prince Charming is supposed to come in the form of a 150 year old man. Martha scrubs the floor a little bit harder, remembering 1913 in all its glory. Except this time she doesn't have a companion to giggle with. This situation is much more hopeless. If she stays with the Doctor, will she be subject to this treatment wherever they go?
The realization that she doesn't need the Doctor is surprisingly liberating. Her stomach feels lighter and she can take a deep breath without feeling the weight of the world on her chest.
She almost smiles, thinking of what she'll say to him when they get out of this mess: (“I've enjoyed my time with you, Doctor, but I think it's about time I move on, you know?” or maybe even: “I've actually found my Prince Charming, and he's very much not you.”)
The Master ruins her thought process, as he so often does. She can hear the sound of his shoes behind her, no doubt polished and shiny as always. “Almost finished?” he asks gruffly.
She shrugs, not wanting to give him the pleasure of a response. Martha clenches her jaw and continues working. Honestly, she's afraid that what she says next will get her into trouble.
But this silence proves to be too much for him. He pours light brown tea on the floor where she's already cleaned. The thick liquid spirals out on the wet floor, standing out against the black tile. When he leaves, she curses him silently.
As she so often does, she scrubs the floor as hard as she can, imagining that it is the Master's face she is wiping away.
III. LIPS AS RED AS BLOOD
Lucy really is vain.
Martha stands behind her, brushing the long, blond hair. The woman stares into the mirror in front of them, barely even blinking.
“I love him, you know,” Lucy says distantly, as if her mind is a million miles away. “Do you love yours?”
At first, Martha can't tell what Lucy is talking about, but finally puts two and two together enough to realize that Lucy is asking if she loves her Time Lord- the Doctor. “As a friend,” she says, gently pulling a section of her hair aside and brushing the rest.
“Just a friend? I saw how you looked at him before he got to be 150 years old.”
“I don't know what you mean,” Martha says, trying to brush off Lucy's comment. Her voice indicates that she is about to become nasty, and Martha hates nasty-Lucy. She can be almost as bad as the Master, if the mood strikes. Lucy applies her lipstick until her lips are red, standing out against her pale features. There is a bruise on her cheek, and Martha doesn't even want to know how she got it. “I'm much more beautiful than you,” Lucy says, “but don't worry. With a bit of make-up I'm sure you're decent.”
Martha does not respond, wondering if Lucy is jealous of her. The Doctor cares about her, Jack cares about her, and the Master gives her (unwanted) attention. Lucy does not seem to have a friend on board the ship.
Lucy turns around suddenly and grabs Martha's wrist. “Don't lie to me. You love him.” Her voice is full of venom, and Martha clenches.
“Even if I do, why should it matter?” Martha says. “It really is no concern of yours.”
“Such cheek,” Lucy says coolly. Much to Martha's surprise, she lets go of her wrist and stares in the mirror again. Finally, when her hair has been brushed to her satisfaction, she blinks and says, “You may go.”
Martha bobs her head as she's been instructed to do and heads to the door. Just as her hand touches the handle, Lucy speaks again. “They've killed Tish, you know. Sent her to the labor camps and she couldn't handle the conditions. You're so lucky you're not out there, and yet you're so ungrateful.”
Martha spun around, gawking at Lucy. She felt as if Lucy has succeeded in ripping her heart out. Why has she told her now? What is she trying to prove? Without another word, she opens the door and slams it, stalking down the hall. She's not even sure where she's going; she just has to increase the amount of space between her and Lucy.
She ends up in the dungeon, looking at Jack through bars. For once, he is not tied up; he is just sitting there, staring off into space. “Hello there, kid,” Jack says kindly.
Jack's kind voice is enough to make her cry. She sobs and Jack stands, then puts his hand out between the bars. She grabs it and he squeezes her hand. “Just let it out. I'll watch over you. I'll protect you. Sssh.”
IV.SEA FOAM, FOREVER
He sits in his black chair, one foot on the table. He uses it to pivot himself back and forth, and Martha is painfully aware that he is leaving black marks on the floor-- ones she'll have to clean later. “I have an idea.”
She ignores him. He often muses out loud, and she has become aware of more evil plans than she ever wished to know. Martha thinks absurdly that all he needs is a cat to stroke while he thinks out loud.
“I can let you go if you kill him,” the Master says. He's not looking at her, he's staring at the wall, but it doesn't matter. Martha knows the words are intended for her-- who else would they be for? “I mean, if he means so little to you.”
He reaches down next to him and pulls up a big metal gun. “This was found on your brother before he was taken into the labor camps. It can kill a Time Lord stone dead, which is ironic because I think it was meant for me.” He laughs delightedly. “All you have to do is kill him and you're free to go home.”
“Why don't you just do it?” Martha asks, staring the gun rather than at him.
“Because it's much more fun to watch you try.”
XXXX
The Doctor sleeps. In his weakened state, he sleeps far more often than he ever did on the TARDIS. Sometimes Martha suspects that he's faking it; his mind is always wandering on to the next thing, the next adventure, the next plan. The Master follows her into the darkened conference room that night, and her hands are trembling. “Freedom,” he whispers, and Martha feels like she has been placed into a very bad, cliché-ridden film.
She steps forward, holding the gun in the Doctor's direction. Her hands are trembling so violently she thinks she will drop it.
And she does drop it, on purpose.
“You do it,” she says darkly. “If it means so much to you, you do it.”
“So you like this, do you?” He says, grabbing her roughly and pushing her out the door.
The next morning, when Martha brings the Doctor his food, she swears that he winks at her.
V.ROBBING THE RICH TO GIVE TO THE POOR
He dances with her to the tune of Mozart-- deep, sometimes violent, minor chords fill the tiny room. At first, she is cleaning the table, listening to the Requiem slowly build to a climax. He comes up from behind her and grabs her around the waist. She resists at first and he holds on to her tighter. Then he spins her around and grabs her hand in his. Martha feels lightheaded, full of disgust. But he is holding on to her so tightly she finds it hard to resist.
She finds it ironic that they are slowly dancing to a Requiem. It is one day after she watched Japan burn to the ground and she feels as if the Earth requires a beautiful sound like the Requiem. She cries, but neither of them acknowledge it, and the tears eventually fall to the floor in front of her.
And then the hand around her waist slips down so that it is resting on small of her back, and she slaps his hand away, frightened. But the hand eventually finds its way up her dress and on her skin, and she pushes him away. “Don't touch me!” she yells and storms out of the room.
She is terrified for one moment that he is following her, but she is able to lose him, thank God. She finds her way down to the dungeon, her one solace. There is a guard who sometimes watches over Jack and he is decent. He always looks away when the Master tortures him, and he lets her visit Jack even though the Master forbids it.
He winks at her and opens the door to Jack's cell when she comes in. “Hello, there, kid,” Jack says, the way he always does, and she sits down next to him, arms folded. The air is freezing cold, and Martha wonders how Jack can stand it.
“I'm not a kid,” Martha says vaguely.
“I know that,” Jack says. “I just--”
“Ssh,” Martha responds, adjusting her position so she can lie down with her head on Jack's lap. He starts to stroke her hair gently, both of them concentrating on the steady rhythm. It soothes Martha, and she feels completely relaxed. After a long time in that position, Martha sits up and rubs her eyes. “I should go. You're probably...”
Jack stares at her sadly. “If it's okay, if it won't get you into trouble, can you stay with me?”
Martha stops, stunned. She steals a glance at the guard, and he looks back at her. He nods once and says, “I'll make your excuses for you.” She wonders how he can read her mind-- does her face betray that she longs to be with him? She finds a somewhat comfortable position, lying on the hard bench. He lies down behind her, their bodies matched up almost perfectly. It is still uncomfortable, but the fact that Jack is there makes it a little more bearable. He reaches over and grabs her hand, and they fall asleep together, Martha aware of his light breathing against her back.
VI.AND BEHIND THIS DOOR IS A SECRET
Link to the story here, for context.
He doesn't bother her, not for a long time. But then he starts to suspect. He is evil, he is insane, he pounds out that rhythm all of the time, but he is not stupid. He storms in one night while she is scrubbing the table and declares that one of his guards is not doing his job and that he will be caught. She wonders what the Master is thinking-- does he honestly think that the Doctor, Jack, or herself will give him up?
Then she decides it's a fear tactic, it has to be.
In the midst of sending out the Toclafane to kill her brother (who has escaped and is evidently the leader of a resistance group in Bath) he figures out that the key to his problem is Martha.
He wakes her up out of a dead sleep one night and, before she has a chance to figure out how to get out of the situation, he pins her to the bed with his body and touches the temples of her head. A shock of pain fills her head and she cries out. He merely says “Ssh” in a mocking voice and continues.
He is aware that he is opening doors to her mind, frantically trying to find the right one. He opens them and slams them, looking in on family Christmases and her first date, and the first time she ever fooled around with a boy and he laughs at this image of her, but he continues, trying to find the other doors. She imagines each door closing, one by one. When he finds another door, she imagines that it is locked. He has to tug on it and Martha cries out in pain.
“Now Martha, that's not very nice,” she is vaguely aware of him saying as if from far away. He presses on her forehead tighter and she screams. The door has opened in an explosion of agony.
Pain like nothing she has ever experienced floods through her and she has to think of something comforting to take her mind off of it. It's been awhile since she's studied. She tries to think of as many medical terms as she can: “Peristeum, marrow, vessels, osteoblasts. The skull-- occipital, parietals, frontal...”
Then he opens the wrong door and she screams, screams, screams. His rage floods through her as if they are one and the door slams shut, echoing throughout her mind.
“I think I've found what I need,” he says, finally getting off of her and standing to his feet. “All three of you will be punished, of course, although I'm not sure what I can do to Jack that I haven't already done.” He laughs again, the insane sound filling her tiny room.
VII. LET DOWN YOUR HAIR
He makes her stand on the main deck when he decides to blow up Japan, just because he can. She watches, feeling somewhat detached, as if this is happening to someone else and not her. He has also brought Jack and the Doctor along for viewing. Jack grabs her hand when she tenses and they watch together as the first bombs are dropped over Mount Fuji.
It is spectacular. She can hear the screams coming from the people who live there (it is climbing season, God, there are people on that mountain) and she can see the smoke rising from where the mountain used to be. There is nothing left. Then the bombs descend on Tokyo, then the north, the west, and the east. She can close her eyes, but there is nothing to keep her from hearing the panic and terror. She cannot understand the words-- the TARDIS has stopped translating-- but she can recognize extreme fear in their voices.
Japan no longer exists, it has been wiped off the face of the Earth.
Then there is silence. The Master is breathing heavily, Lucy is staring in blank horror, and the Doctor looks away, obviously pained. He catches Martha's eye and nods slowly. He understands-- she and Jack. They have been getting each other through the difficult times.
When the Master leaves the room, Martha grabs the Doctor's hand too, and the three of them stand together. They don't need to talk-- they just are. And maybe it's a reminder to all of them that they are still alive and that they are not dying, too.
And as long as all three of them continue to breathe there is hope.
VIII. AND I'LL BRING YOU A ROSE
Christmas comes too quickly for Martha's liking. It is too painful for her to see the world from the Master's giant screen. No one has decorated for the holiday; instead snow falls gently on top of ash and mixes with the smoke rising from each city. This year the snow is ugly and gives her no pleasure.
“If I could bring you a present, Miss Jones, what would it be?” he asks, crossing behind her while she mops. “It's Christmas, you know.”
She ignores him and continues to work. He only continues to pester her, trying to get her crack, perhaps. “Oh, come on. There has to be something you want dearly. Freedom, perhaps?”
Martha does not even care anymore. Half the time he brings up that word just to taunt her with it and then laughs when she dares to have a hopeful expression.
“Not that? No? Well. How about one night with your handsome Jack?”
She presses the mop down hard against the floor. How could anyone be so awful? “Anything I want?” she asks.
“Anything.”
“Set him free.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Let him go back to his team. Some of them are dead anyway.” Admittedly, her first thought was to have him release the Doctor, but that would have been silly. The Doctor is the reason they are all here in the first place.
He laughs softly. “Well, Miss Jones, that was certainly unexpected.”
She shrugs and stares at the darkened floor where the water has already spread. “You said anything.” Martha keeps her tone at an even keel. The first rule to living on board the Valiant is that you never let on that he is getting to you.
“That's not it-- I thought you'd ask for your own freedom. So I was mistaken?”
“Evidently.”
He laughs again, this time sounding more delighted, and claps his hands. “Oh, Martha, you never fail to astonish me! I'll tell a guard to transport him back to Cardiff immediately. Or I suppose we could just push him out of the window. It wouldn't matter in the long run, right?”
She glares at him until he laughs and says coldly, “It was a joke, Martha.”
It is everything Martha can do to keep from dropping the mop in surprise.
The Master does not put up a fuss. He just tells the guard to transport Jack out of the Valiant. In fact, Martha would never have known that he'd done the deed, except that one night she walked past Jack's cell and he was no longer there to smile or speak words of encouragement to her.
Later, she wonders if Jack ever thinks about her stuck up there alone, or if he is too happy to be back with his team to remember her.
She is not sure which idea is worse.
IX.A BED SURROUNDED BY THORNS
Martha is always the last one to retire at night. She has to be-- she has to clean up after everyone else. One night she walks past the Master's luxurious bedroom and can just see Lucy lying on the bed with her silk pajamas on.
She finds a corner where she can eavesdrop, where no one will be able to see her. She suspects Lucy has been in for a rough time but she is strangely curious to see if it is true. When the Master turns around and sees his wife, he runs to the bed and pounces on her playfully. It is almost like they are normal young lovers. But then he begins to untie his tie and wrap it around Lucy's wrists, Lucy barely putting up a fuss. “You like it this way, don't you?” he says roughly.
Lucy doesn't say a word.
“You're so boring, love,” he continues, slowly moving his head down so he can kiss her. “You used to have so much spark and energy. Where did it go?” He strokes her hair and kisses her again. It does not look romantic. But numerous kisses they share on the upper decks of the Valiant never do. He unbuttons his shirt and begins to move down Lucy's body with his hands, first stroking her neck, then sliding his hand under her pajama tops. She breathes heavily and then squirms as his hand slides down her pajama bottoms. He begins to take them off slowly, playing with her for a bit, and listening to her giggles as he kisses her belly. “You can't do anything to stop me,” he says, now stroking her stomach gently. “Isn't that wonderful? Isn't it exhilarating?” He shrugs off his shirt and rests on top of her for a moment.
She kisses him back, trying to encourage him to continue.
“But see, Lucy, and now this is a lesson to you,” he says, suddenly stopping and sitting on top of his wife, “if you're bad, if you start doubting me, you won't feel any pleasure, yeah? Good girls get good things. You just have to trust me.”
He raises her arms up over her head and pulls the covers up over both of them so that Martha can no longer see what they are doing. Good. She is just about to walk away when she hears a mutter and then, “Martha.”
She stops mid-track. Can he hear her? Does he know she's standing there?
“What?” he hears Lucy say. “Another one of your whores? Who knew, the servant girl is another one.” She hears him fall to the floor and she can't help but be a little proud. Lucy is fighting back, finally. “I know you watch her when you think I'm not looking. You claim that you're making sure that she doesn't try anything funny, but I can see you're staring at her ass.”
The punch, when it comes, is sickening. Even Martha can hear it.
X. BEWARE, FOR HERE COMES THE WOLF
Link to the story here, for context.
Several days later the TARDIS moans and Martha sneaks over to see what is wrong with her this time. The paradox machine has taken its toll; sometimes the TARDIS appears to be sicker than on other days. But then she makes a noise that sounds almost like pleasure, and Martha is puzzled.
She opens the door (the Master doesn't even bother to lock it; with the paradox machine being what it is, it's not like they can go anywhere anyway) and sees a blurry image in front of her. The image clears and she sees a young woman about her age, with blonde hair and a sad expression on her face. The first thing Martha notices is the woman's thick mascara and large lips and thinks “This could be Rose.”
The woman speaks first. “Is the Doctor all right?” she asks in a light Cockney accent.
“No,” Martha admits, because she sees that the woman is kind and somehow trusts her.
“Jack managed to get through to me using a rift,” she explains. “He told me your world is in danger and that the Doctor is dying. Is that true?”
Martha nods, not sure of what to say. “Are you Rose?” she asks.
The woman smiles, obviously pleased that Martha knows. “I used to travel with the Doctor before we got separated.”
“He still loves you,” Martha says, because she is no longer jealous and she feels as if Rose needs to know.
The woman smiles even wider, if that is possible, and says, “Thank you. Jack says thank you as well, by the way.”
Martha smiles at this. No, she can't hate Rose Tyler; there is something about her that makes her impossible to hate.
“I have an idea,” Rose continues, “and it won't be pleasant and I don't even know if it'll work for you, but we have to try, yeah?” The image becomes even clearer. “I'm not real as I can't really cross into your universe. I'm just a hologram set up by the Torchwood on your universe and mine, but I'm going to try to help you. Understand?”
Martha nods. She is not sure what a hologram can do, but if Rose really does have an idea, she's willing to try anything.
“I am what they call the Bad Wolf,” she explains. “Once I wanted to get to the Doctor so I opened the heart of the TARDIS and the Bad Wolf lives inside of me now. You've got to do the same, you've got to become the Bad Wolf. It'll be dangerous, and it'll hurt, and if you succeed, the Doctor will most likely try to suck it out of you, but you can't let him. If he does, he'll regenerate. You've got to channel that energy as much as you can, understand?”
Martha wonders how many times Rose will say 'understand' in the next few minutes, bust she nods again. Suddenly, she hears the Master's voice from outside the TARDIS. “Martha? Martha Jo-ones,” he says in a sing-song voice. She shudders and Rose does, too.
“We have to be quick,” Rose says, pointing to the panel on the ground of the TARDIS. “Look into it. You could be saving everyone involved if you do it right. And if he comes in, I'll protect you. Don't worry.”
Martha finds a screwdriver on the floor (did the TARDIS put it there on purpose?) and opens the gate. Energy flows into her, red hot and so, so wrong. She feels dizzy, as if she's going to be sick. And her head is killing her. “It's not right!” she screams.
“Ssh!” Rose reminds her. “It's because the TARDIS is sick, I think. I dunno!”
There is a violent flash of something-- Martha does not even understand it-- and she can suddenly see all of space and time, literally billions of possibilities unfolding in front of her. Possibilities she didn't even know existed.
It goes away just as fast, and Martha cries for the first time since landing on the ship. “I can't do this,” she tells Rose.
“Yes, you can! You have to! Channel the energy!” Rose's voice is rising, becoming more desperate. “I can hear him, you're in danger!”
“Martha? Martha?” he says, and even though he is not standing the room with her, she can see him, and he is weak and so, so tiny. Earth is tiny, Earth does not matter. And she realizes Rose has come back only to save her Doctor and rage wells up inside of her, but then again, that does not matter.
She feels nauseous. She falls to the ground, weak, just as the Master opens the door to the TARDIS, Rose vanishes, and the TARDIS gives a large moan.
XI. WHO'S AFRAID OF THE BIG, BAD WOLF?
“There you are,” he says. “Running off like that. I think this time you really will have to be punished.” His voice seems to come from a billion miles away. She is conscious of it, but his words do not matter. “You know I hate it when my servants defy me.”
“I am not your servant,” she says, because she no longer has control over her own words.
“What?” he laughs, grabbing her wrist roughly and twisting it. “You've defied me twice in an hour. I daresay I'm impressed.”
Her wrist is on fire, but it's nothing compared to her head.
“Come on,” he says roughly, and attempts to drag her to her feet. When he succeeds, he holds her, arms pinned in front of her.
“Do not touch me.”
He laughs yet again and God he is hurting her, but she doesn't care. He takes something out of his pocket-- handcuffs-- and dangles them in front of her. Then he spins her around to face him. One second later, he looks absolutely terrified. “Who are you?” he says in a voice no louder than a whisper. He drops the handcuffs, now forgotten.
“I am the Bad Wolf.”
“But-- that's impossible,” he says.
“I absorbed the Time Vortex, too. I am infinity. You are small. You are an impossibility.”
“No,” he whispers, eyes round and terrified.
“I am everything. You will not harm me.” And just by thinking it so, she causes him to fall to the ground, away from her. She thinks of the Doctor, restored to his youthful energy, and she thinks of life before this-- she realizes she has the power to set time. She places it to right after Winters was shot but before the Toclafane were released.
“No,” he continues to whisper, over and over again.
A few seconds later, the Doctor enters. He really has been restored to full health. “Martha,” he whispers sadly. “He's mine to deal with.”
Martha grabs on to the console for strength. Just as soon as she sees the Doctor, the power of the Time deserts her and floats back into the grate of the TARDIS. It is red and purple and violent. She trembles, feeling weak now.
“We're the last of the Timelords,” the Doctor says. “You'll be travelling with me from now on.”
“You mean you're just going to... keep me?” the Master says incredulously.
They do not notice Lucy slipping through the opened door until they hear the gunshot. It echoes terribly in the TARDIS' main room. The Master has been hit. “It's always the women,” he says, nodding in Martha's and Lucy's direction.
The Doctor runs to him and holds him in his arms. “Come on, it's just one little bullet. Regenerate.” He shakes him. “Regenerate!”
“No,” the Master says, a smile playing on his lips. And with that, he dies. It is all over.
Martha hangs on just long enough to hear the Doctor's frantic and desperate cries, and then she succumbs to exhaustion.
~END OF PART ONE~