I've never been a huge fan of Martha, if I'm honest. I suppose she just annoyed me at times, but I've never hated her, just to make that clear.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago about her, which I don't remember, but it made me think about her, and her side of the story with the Doctor.

Because there was a side to her they never went into much detail with in the series, and I figured I'd try to understand her more by writing this.

It's not an adventure as such, more of a confession and an insight into the rocky feelings Martha had for the Doctor while she travelled with him aboard the TARDIS, to the very end when she finally plucks up the courage to escape her own imprisonment.

Hope you like it.


Walking out of the TARDIS with my head held high had never felt so good.

The relief hitting me like a cool wind on a hot day.

The pain dulling like I'd taken instant pain killer.

To finally be able to breathe again was a blessing, perhaps even a curse, but I was too caught up in my revolution to care.

Freedom.

It wasn't until I felt the weight fall of my shoulders that I realised how far my undying love for the Doctor had driven me.

Had I stayed any longer, I might not have been strong enough to live on.

But still, it was all over.

My broken and torn heart could repair itself without interruption at long last.

The peaceful quiet interrupted only by my steady breathing.

The dark void could be replaced with something new.

A fresh start, no turning back.

Something new...

DWDWDWDWDWDW

It had became uncontrollable, my love for my Doctor.

But no, not my Doctor, never mine.

Yet he'd still been like a drug to me, changing me every day into a crazed drug addict.

No good, no good at all, killing me slowly but enough to make me willing to die rather than live without it.

My love was suffocating me the point of dying.

It was like a raging fire, ravishing everything that made up my life, burning everything like a forest to the ground… While I could only watch helplessly.

Those long conversations and smiles and jokes added fuel to the flames, and the bitter truthful moments only saw it spiral more and more out of control.

I could only watch it burn, all burn.

Even me.

Even him.

Burning up inside me, burning and burning and burning...

Anger and resentment for everything I'd become killing me every time I looked in the mirror.

Knowing that it was not his fault descending me further and further into the cold depths of my own despair, the guilt pulling at my heart strings like red hot coals, a punishment I deserved; my own heavy burdened conclusion.

And yet, there was times when I hated him, because in a way it was his fault. Ignorant or knowing, he still went on hurting me, stringing me along unintentionally in his pathetic way.

I walked a thin line between love and hate, being with him, clumsily tumbling from one side to the other with every single step.

One cold look, one drop of my hand... one second when he chose to back away like any moment I'll loose all self control...

Rejection; devastating and agonising, the pain sharp. The pain deep... never ending.

Bitter sweet tears came freely then, tearing my heart to shreds in a bloody mess. My very soul screaming at me to stop, jus stop, but just knowing I could not.

Every time I tried in vain, because he always changed when it mattered most.

Back to smiling, back to taking my hand and laughing.

The wounds would be healed only to be struck again by the smallest things, stupid silly trivial things.

Cold, so cold.

My heart riding a deadly rollercoaster, forcing me to cling on in my fearful desperation.

Because if I let go...

Who knows?

Then there was the adventuring, his heroic manner of dashing in to save the day.

Exchanging a well deserved grin as we were victorious over the evils of the universe...

Wanting but never having.

How could life be so unfair to abuse me like this?

How could there be so much in me to give, and so little in him?

Why could he not understand the struggle in me from meeting his eyes, trying to stop myself from falling in them, because my heart will only break again and again.

The empty void, the unshed tears striving to break free...

"He had to go and fall in love with a human, and it wasn't me."

It was a circle of self hatred and hope.

Hope; sweet and wonderful hope.

That torturous thing.

How I could subconsciously go on hoping, even when I denied it to myself in the privacy of my own heartbreak, I don't think I can ever fully understand.

The circle just went on spinning.

Round and round until it's as familiar as my own heartbeat.

Living in my own hell, rising only to fall harder, and harder every time.

A prison from which there was no escape.

But then, despite all the chaos the Master caused, dipping the world in destruction and death, torturing my beloved family, and chasing me across the Earth, he saved me.

Rescued me from my very self.

That year without the Doctor strengthened my resolve more than it had ever been, and hardened my scarred heart.

A drug addict gone cold turkey.

Telling my story all year round, telling the truth I could not bear to unveil to the one who mattered most.

Never saying aloud the true heartache, it only made me more determined to break free.

It was this year alone that made me strong enough to leave him.

To say no.

To say no to letting the pain go on and on and on...

This time I could take control,

I could stifle the flames until they no longer raged.

I could be the one to end it.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Walking out of the TARDIS with my head held high had never felt so good.

The relief hitting me like a cool wind on a hot day.

The pain dulling like instant pain killer.

To finally be able to breath again was a blessing, prehaps even a curse, but I was too caught up in my revolution to care.

Freedom.

It wasn't until I felt the weight fall of my shoulders that I realised how far my undying love for the Doctor had driven me.

Had I stayed any longer, I might not have been strong enough to live on.

But still, it was all over.

My broken and torn heart could repair itself without interuption at long last.

The peaceful quiet interupted only by my steady breathing.

The dark void could be replaced with something new.

A fresh start, no turning back.

Something new...

Even lost in my bliss and wave of happiness I had no doubts that sooner or later I would cry over him like I'd cried so many nights before.

But it would be the last time.

The final time.

Then I would truly be free.