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When The Doctor first start to tell her about his memories of Galifrey and the war, he was solemn but in control. Only when it came to talk about more personal matters, the facade broke. It started slow, his stare got lost somewhere over Martha's shoulder, his breathing quickening, his lower lip trembling; his chest got tighter and tighter and he stopped talking all together. He's adrift, swept away by a wave of grief and pain, everything around him got cold.
I lost everyone-.
A warmth weight sets on his cheek, spreading over his face. It pulled him against a firm shape, the scent of wet leather reaches his nose, mixed with her scented shampoo. He has to blink several times before he realizes that the firm shape is actually Martha's shoulder and he's pressing his nose into the crook of her neck. Her skin is soft and the few loose hairs tickle his skin. Martha is rubbing his back with one of her hands while the other firmly holds his head, anchoring him.
It's the first time he's been touched in months, the last hug he got was from Rose before she got stuck in another universe. It was different though. Martha was grounding him , rocking him back and forth, whispering soft shushing sounds on his ear. He lifted his arms around her, hugging her close to him just as a sob escapes out of his mouth.
Hours might have passed until he's calm enough to lean back to look at her. There's moisture in the corner of her eyes, which are as red as his, and she asks the one question he's been trying to avoid for so long:
Are you alright?-.
He shakes his head, with an honesty he's been denying himself for the sake of his pride. But Martha is here, offering her comfort and company, he's been alone for too long and he finds he doesn't care much about his pride anymore.
No - He finds himself surprised at his words, but the lift in her eyebrows is worth it, so is the weight that leaves his chest. He dives in for another hug, this time with her face pressing into his neck- Thank you.
He is tired, he can see that Martha is tired too just from looking at her eyes. He doesn't want to leave the protective bubble she had created with her arms, but they can't stay here anymore, so with a weary sigh, he pulls away and stands up before offering a hand to Martha. He leads her back to the Tardis, and only once he's standing in front of the door, does he realize that his fingers are interlocked with hers, he gives her a quick squeeze before opening the door with his free hand.
Inside the Tardis, he pilots the ship away under the worried observation from Martha. He feels raw, stripped of his walls, but strangely, he felt comfortable enough to be that vulnerable. He felt safe with Martha.
It took just a few minutes for the machine to land, in Southern Italy but at least they're in a grass field, in 1985. But it was far better than he expected.
The Doctor was aware of how Martha was showing more and more signs of being too tired to explore, so instead of rushing to the door, he walks up to her and reaches for her hand. He wordlessly leads her through the Tardis until they reached the library, a huge room with floor-to-ceiling shelves and reading nooks everywhere. He picked one of the biggest sofas and piled pillows and blankets that were thrown about on top of it.
He made a makeshift bed for Martha to lay in, it was supposed to be just for her but then she refused to let go of his hand, claiming that he looked as tired as her and that he should rest too.
The stubbornness in her posture and the order in her words made him cave in, and he laid down on one side of the sofa after taking off his long coat. Martha took off her leather jacket and laid facing him, just like they did back when they first shared a bed. This time, the knowledge that they were safe, that Martha was safe and wouldn't be taken from him again relaxed him to the point of him closing his eyes as he inched closer to her.
Forehead to forehead, Martha could see him falling asleep. She noticed how one of his arms pulled the blanket over her before settling comfortably over her waist. The last thing she felt as sleep claimed her, was a nose nuzzling against hers.