AN: This is for a prompt on Tumblr, to show the Doctor and Rose's relationship from an outside POV. One time when I watched "Utopia" I caught something I hadn't seen before—the look on Martha's face when the Doctor finally confesses to Jack that Rose isn't just living in a parallel universe, she's trapped there. You can see the realisation settle on Martha that everything she'd thought about their relationship, and the Doctor's likelihood of getting over Rose, was wrong.

Martha pursed her lips as she listened to the Doctor explain what his precious Rose had done to save Jack's life. The reverence in his voice was obvious—a Time Lord might have become a vengeful god with that much power, but he clearly worshipped this girl like she was his goddess.

And okay, so maybe what she'd done did sound a bit impressive. But after months of trying to get the Doctor to see her, instead of Rose, Martha could hardly stand to listen to one more speech about how incredible the blonde had been.

How special could she really be if she left you? She left you, and I'm still here.

Then a soft burst of static came through the comms, like he'd sighed and the mic had picked up the loud breath. "She's gone, Jack."

Martha frowned, but before she could make sense of that statement, he continued, every word strained, like they held a truth he wasn't ready to accept.

"She's not just living on a parallel world; she's trapped there. The walls have closed."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, the grief in the Doctor's voice as apparent to him as it was to Martha.

"Yeah."

Martha had heard that voice before and knew the Doctor had his head tilted back and his jaw clenched as he swallowed back tears. Jack kept talking about Rose, about going back to see her as a kid, but Martha was reliving her own past.

She'd told the Doctor once that he never talked, and there was some truth to that. But maybe she hadn't been listening either.

Because if she'd been listening, she would have heard the hesitation in the Doctor's voice when he'd first told her about Rose—the way he'd stumbled over his words as he'd explained that they'd been together. She'd miscatalogued those signs of grief as the Doctor getting over a broken relationship, and she'd flirted with him, thinking she could help him move on.

She'd ignored the longing in his eyes when he'd told her that, "Rose would know." She'd heard the statement of fact and missed the deeper meaning—his persistent, ongoing wish to have Rose by his side again, where she belonged.

He could have told me she was lost, she argued with herself, then almost immediately shot it down. It was obviously still hard for him to talk about, almost a year later. He'd told her enough, told her she wouldn't replace Rose. And she hadn't listened.

Before the revelations could really sink in, Professor Yana started talking about time travel, and Martha nearly forgot about the conversation she'd overheard. It would be a year before she would really have a chance to think about it, and when she did, the choice was obvious.

For once, she took her own advice and got out. The Doctor couldn't give her what she wanted while he was still mourning Rose's loss. And she deserved better than to live in the shadow of a ghost.