The TARDIS got to the right house, even at the right time, but they didn't do anything about the pamphlets by the time they got there. He was exhausted past the point of caring for anything other than sleep and Martha, seeing this, sat him down, got out his new diary and looked over his shoulder.
Was he supposed to write with her looming over him like that? What was he supposed to write anyway? That her looming was making him uncomfortable?
More importantly...did he have to start a personal diary like this one with Dear Diary?
He'd had diaries before, but none as personal as this. Most of his early journals chronicled his journeys and experiments, some he used mainly for field notes when he found something that interested him, but he had lost the flavour for it sometimes. He'd kept his 500 year diary, and his 700 year diary, but after that last, he hadn't bothered with it again.
Well, he decided to keep a title in there anyway, because it felt like it was doing the whole personal therapy diary thing right. And that's what he thought of this one he realised, as his new form of therapy. It's what Jeremy had told him anyway. That if he didn't go to sessions to write down his feelings instead.
He was too tired to really think properly, but since it was expected of him and he knew Martha would keep annoying him until he did it, even if it wasn't much, he started to write, in his home language so it didn't matter if she saw or not.
You have no idea how odd it is to write those two words. And yes, it is odd to be doing this at all, but therapist's orders.
I have someone staring over my shoulder at the moment, so I am writing you in a language only I know, my home language. And I don't know why I am writing in you like you're a person. Maybe I'm really that lonely...
Well, anyway I was told to start this diary and write my feelings down on a daily basis, since I quit therapy today. Today has been rough. A family member of a friend, the same one looming over my shoulder in fact, tried to kill himself, and I got dragged in to the mess. Why, I don't know. Possibly to make me feel bad. And it does.
I've tried in my life a few times too, and now I'm on the other side of the situation and it seems worse. Well, it's happened once before, with
The Doctor stopped and frowned. There was no way of writing any names other than Gallifreyan names in his home language. For that matter, he had decided to just use Doctor at the end of the entries instead of his proper signature, just in case someone got their hands on it. With a glance at Martha, he wrote down the name of Turlough in English, knowing it would make no sense to her.
Turlough, but he had a reason. He thought he was going to kill me if he lived, which turned out not to be true. And he was saved from his rather hasty self sacrifice by an enemy ship sailing through space (I lead a very odd life sometimes)
The Doctor glanced at Martha again and sighed. "Do you have to look over my shoulder?"
Martha frowned at him and shrugged. "It's making you write. It's not like I can read anything except one word, and that word means nothing to me. What is a Turlough?"
"I can't do names that aren't of my people in my writing, it doesn't work. Turlough was a he, not an it. And he'd be angry with you for calling him such."
Martha blinked at him and sighed. "Just...write. You can even say nasty things about me if you want. Though I'd prefer it if you didn't."
He rolled his eyes and turned back to his new diary.
I've been ordered by MARTHA to write. She can't understand anything other than the names, so she'll be thinking I am yelling at her. And good, let her think that. I'm not happy right now. She keeps looking over my shoulder and now she's frowning.
I can't win. Not ever.
Leo is her brother. He tried to hang himself in his bedroom and he would have left behind a girlfriend, a daughter and his blood family, including both his mother and father, and two sisters, one of which is Martha.
Yes, I did just write your name again, Martha, keep on wondering what I'm writing...
Anyway. I'm supposed to be talking about my feelings, but I keep getting distracted. Today has been hard. I think I've already said that though. Hard emotionally. I was in a good mood before I got dragged into the mess too, for possibly the first time since Midnight (and I'll write that part out later, when I have full privacy.)
I am angry over it, that much is definitely true. I hit Jeremy earlier today. He was my therapist.
I'm upset lately, all the time, and quite embarrassingly can start crying for no reason. I cried earlier today thinking of two of my past companions, just because it gave me something real to cry over. I'm really uncomfortable with showing tears to other people though, and so am finding this whole talking about my feelings and therapy a hard thing to deal with.
Jeremy said I pushed myself too far today and that was why I quit. He let me quit anyway, though he gave me his number.
Which leads me to my other main feeling right now. Confusion. Why would he give me that, when I flat out said I wasn't going to go to him anymore? And it wasn't just the number to his damned secretary (I don't like that boy, I really don't.) It was his personal mobile number.
I think confusion is number one right now on that list. I'm so confused about so much. Why Leo would do what he did, when he had a supporting and loving family, why Jeremy gave me his number. Why I was called in the first place...none of it makes any sense! Leo isn't talking (he has a bruised neck, so it could be a few days before he can fully pain free anyway, so can't blame him there.) Martha didn't tell me anything other than she thought I should know and I left the room with Jeremy before I could even think of asking, like the idiot I was at the time.
Yes, it was only five minutes ago. Well, closer to ten now. I've been sitting and thinking quite a bit, but it took five minutes after I got the diary to when I started writing.
I think that's about it now, really. All I'm feeling right now that I know of.
So, until next time, diary.
He stared at the name he had chosen for himself when he had become a Time Lord and frowned at it, resisting the urge to scribble it out, because it didn't look right. This whole thing felt wrong. His whole life seemed nothing more than a cosmic joke...
He added that part in under his name as a little extra, before dropping the pen and turning to Martha.
He almost asked if she was happy, until he noticed that she was crying. He deflated then and moved forwards to pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I wasn't saying nasty things about you in there. No matter what it may look like. I just didn't feel comfortable with you reading what I was writing."
She shook her head and sniffed. "It's not that, Doctor! My brother tried to kill himself earlier!"
He felt like a fool for even forgetting that she would be hurt over it too, because he was suffering with his own problems. He hugged her even closer and sighed. "I know, and I'm sorry for that too."
"You forgot! How could you do that?" She sobbed at him, her voice too low to be classed as shouting, but the words coming across as though they should have been. And, by rights, she had every right to yell at him.
"I didn't forget what he did. I just...I'm dealing with a lot as it is and I dismissed how you would be feeling, and yes, that was wrong of me. I'm trying to understand why he did it, and I only met him once. But that once...he was a genuinely happy guy. I can't figure out how it happened like that when that's what I see in my head. I never really met him after that Year. I stayed outside when that reunion happened."
Martha didn't bother saying anything to that for a few long minutes. Her tears, much like his earlier that day, changed from quiet to loud and full of obvious pain.
All he could do in that moment was hold her until she settled down.
By the time Tom got home from the hospital himself, Martha was in bed, facing the door, hoping nothing bad had happened to him.
She knew it was a silly thing to fear, as the hospital wasn't far and the roads would be pretty much empty of traffic at the time, but still. Accidents, falling asleep at the wheel, him purposefully driving off the road to certain death...they all seemed in her mind quite possible theories.
The Doctor and Donna were using the spare room, both asleep as far as she knew, but she couldn't sleep. She was too worried to sleep.
Tom carefully opened their bedroom door, looked towards the bed she was lying in and sighed. "Hey," he whispered. "Saw the TARDIS. The Doctor and Donna are here too?"
Martha nodded. "Yeah, asleep in the spare beds. I got Tish to call them before I was allowed off to go check on Leo myself."
Tom nodded and moved towards the wardrobe, taking off his clothes and finding an old pair of pyjama bottoms to wear. Her heart sank. If he was wearing pyjamas it meant that there wasn't going to be any comfort sex. She had hoped he'd be willing to do that for her.
He crawled into his side of the bed, wriggled close to her and pulled her tight against him. "I'm sorry, love."
She knew he was talking about what happened to Leo. She moved her head in a position that made her able to feel his heartbeat and stayed there for the rest of the night.
She knew when he fell asleep. She knew when he woke up in the morning. And she knew because she didn't sleep herself. By the time it was breakfast, her eyes were sore and tired, her mood had plummeted to worse than it had been last night, and, judging by the way the Doctor looked, she'd be looking a right mess herself.
Donna made breakfast. Nothing too big, just toast and assorted jams, but it had been a nice thing to do for them all anyway. She ate one slice and that was it. That one slice was more than the Doctor touched.
Speaking of not having slept, she wondered if she had black bags under her eyes as big and impressive as the Doctor. She knew she felt how he looked: bone tired but unable to sleep. The only other time she had ever felt like this was during that year, but then it had been much more heightened and more out of fear for her life, rather than the fear and worry over her brother's. Her brother had flitted through her thoughts continuously during that period of time, as had the rest of her family and friends.
She had been too busy trying to survive herself to think too hard on them when it came to finding a place to bunk down for the nights. Or days as it so happened half the time.
It had screwed her sleep pattern up for months afterwards.
She didn't want to have to go through that again.
She wouldn't even think of the nightmares in case they started up again...
The entirety of breakfast was done in silence apart from the chewing of food. It almost made her angry enough to tell them all to chew silently so she could think. Not that she really wanted to think on anything too hard. Yet again, she kept on wondering if Leo would speak or not today.
She hoped he did. The quicker he told Jeremy why he did it, the quicker he'd get out of the hospital.
Still, he had hours left of suicide watch to go, poor guy.
Suicide Watch. Two words she never thought she'd hear for anyone in her family, let alone Leo, who was possibly the happiest of the lot of them.
She got up, made her way upstairs back to her room, collapsed onto her bed and held on for dear life to her pillow as guilt swept through her. Had she done or said something to have made him do it? Was it her fault? She should have thought more about him during that year.
She heard the door open and felt the bed dip a bit at her side, but she didn't want to turn over to see who it was. Right then, she didn't care, but she knew she didn't want to get lectured on her behaviour. She was sure right then, she'd lash out in anger over it.
"Hey, I'll call the hospital to let them know you won't be working today. Get some sleep, love," Tom said behind her, quietly and calmly, and she nodded.
"Thanks Tom. I don't think I'll be any good for anything today. I think I'll just sleep."
"Alright. You want me to leave a message for your mum?"
She shook her head, not bothering to say anything about that, knowing if she did try to contact her mum, there'd just be a fight right then.
She was kissed on the top of her head and her shoulder was given a loving squeeze, before Tom left the room. She sighed loudly, got up, dressed in her own pyjamas and went to bed.
She was out like a light in minutes.
Donna watched as the Doctor, for the third time in two minutes, let out a huge yawn. This time he added in a bit of rubbing at the eyes for good measure.
Donna rolled her own eyes at him. "Go to bed. You're falling asleep on your feet."
He shook his head and frowned at her. "I'm fine...just a tiny bit tired. I didn't get any sleep last night, but you know I can go much longer without."
She folded her arms and tilted her head in the most dominant and mothering way she possibly could. It wasn't easy when she didn't feel that way towards the Doctor. He was more a brother than a son. "I also know, Spaceman, that you're supposed to sleep at least 3 hours a night. So, get going."
With a sigh, which turned to a yawn, and another rubbing of his eyes, the Doctor gave in. "Fine. But I'm sleeping in the TARDIS and not out here!"
She nodded at him. "Fine. Just don't go anywhere without me, or I swear I will hunt you down."
He grinned at her and she could see that it was genuine. "Hah! I don't doubt it. Alright, no swanning off for me. Just some rest, relaxation and maybe afterwards some tea."
Happy with the arrangement, she smiled at him, and gave him a gentle nudge in the direction of the TARDIS. "Just try to sleep. That's all I'm asking, Doctor. I don't like seeing you this tired. It's not right."
He nodded at her, and let out yet another huge yawn. "Blimey! Think I will sleep for a bit. Don't get into too much trouble out here and try to avoid fighting with Martha."
"I'm not going to start any fights, Doctor, don't worry. Go to bed, you silly Martian."
He gave her another grin, before disappearing into the TARDIS and, hopefully, heading towards his bedroom.
She was sure that the TARDIS would somehow get the message through if he didn't.
She wondered what she'd get the TARDIS as a gift, or a bribe if it comes down to it, to make her do so...
She was pulled out of her thoughts on what to get a time machine, by Tom coming back down the stairs and heading towards the phone. Should she go back in the TARDIS herself, or just stay out here and see if she could do anything. Where was Martha anyway?
Probably upset. She'd be upset to hear her mum or gramps had tried to kill themselves.
She didn't bother listening on to the conversation that Tom was having once she noticed it was the hospital he was calling. She got out of the same room, just in case he felt it was an invasion of privacy and found herself unsure of what to do.
She sat on the couch and stared blankly at the coffee table in front of her. There were a few magazines on there, a few medical journals and a remote which she figured was for the television.
She didn't want books or magazines or television right then. She wanted to get away, somewhere alien and strange and make a fool of herself. She'd like to go to a beach and relax on warm sand on a hot day. She'd like to do those things with the Doctor, but he seemed unlikely to leave any time soon.
One thing she knew about that man. He always decided to take on the troubles of other people, with enough emotional weight with his own problems on his shoulders. Yet again, he did know this Leo, or had at least met him once. So, maybe it had come as a shock to him to hear the news and he wasn't here solely to help Martha and her family through it.
He definitely was shocked enough over it to not have slept last night, which, by the looks of it, ws much the same reaction Martha was having.
Donna almost jumped out of the seat when Tom appeared at her side and sat down, scrubbing at his face with his hands. "Martha's gone to sleep. It will be a quiet day and while she has the day off, I've still got to get to work. I don't want to leave her on her own though. Are you and the Doctor staying for the day?"
Nodding, she patted Tom on the knee. "Yeah, we're staying. The Doctor just went to bed himself. I'll help out if Martha wakes up, don't worry about that."
He nodded and sighed. "At least she won't be alone in the house. I'm worried about her."
"Think it's been a bit of a shock to everyone. Still, the Doctor should wake up in a couple of hours, and then there will be two people here with her, so definitely not alone in the house. We'll look after her. Go to work."
Tom nodded, tried a smile at her which looked completely faked, before he went off to work for the day. At the hospital. The hospital where Leo, brother of Martha, was lying in a hospital bed. Damn bloody scary places were hospitals.
She picked up the remote and switched on the telly.
It was going to be a long and boring day for her.