Spoilers: 42
Spoilers: "Human Nature" and "Family Of Blood"
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and related characters and situations are the property of the BBC. No money changed hands and no copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Feedback: All comments are welcome.
Author's Notes: So I just watched those two episodes again, and Martha gets treated horribly by the Doctor. She needs some TLC! So, I suppose this is a hurt/comfort story. I've never written one of those before.
I'm feeling really iffy on this story. I'm not sure if it comes off the way I intended it, or just cheesy. Concrit is always welcomed! The tile is taken from a short section of T.S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land." I'm not 100 sure who is being refered to by what in that section, but I dare you to find me anyone in the world who is. :)

Martha watched as the Doctor danced around the console in the center of the TARDIS' control room.

"What exactly do you do for him?"

John Smith's voice, angry and accusing echoed in her mind. Sure, she'd been acting fine for the Doctor when he went after Joan Redfern, and during Hutchinson's funeral, but now they were in the vortex, with the sound of the TARDIS around her, and she could still hear Professor Smith's voice calling her his executioner. And no matter how little it was he actually had to fear, that fear was genuine, and she'd had no idea how to deal with it.

"Why don't you go and get some rest?" the Doctor said.

Martha looked up at him with her eyes wide with shock. Of course he'd want her to go. He'd fallen in love with someone else, and now all he had here was her. She was second best again.

Idiot! He's probably trying to be nice! Martha told herself. But it didn't help. All she could do was nod, and miserably walk to her room, with the memories crowding in. Down on her knees scrubbing floors, listening to the students tell her to stop laughing whenever she had a moment of genuine happiness. Poor Jenny. And that horrible sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach when she'd held that gun on her friend's body in the dance hall.

Martha entered her room and mechanically dressed for bed. She was trying to have a mature reaction to everything, but really she wanted nothing more than to give in to her inner two-year-old. Yelling and throwing things sounded so appealing. It wasn't fair! She'd suffered through hell to try and keep the Family from the Doctor. But if Joan had said yes, it wouldn't have been long before they'd asked her to leave. Try as she might, she couldn't stop all of the hot tears that were threatening to fall, so she laid her head on her pillow and concentrated on breathing. Deep and even. In and out.

She didn't notice when she fell asleep, but she noticed when she started dreaming. Martha was in the Console Room. Instead of the usual green-blue, the TARDIS was lit with gold. And the big central console was gone. In its place stood a blonde girl in a white jacket and blue jeans, wearing a good deal too much make-up. Martha remembered a picture she'd seen once of this girl, although she couldn't imagine why she was dreaming of her. Or why she seemed to be glowing golden, just a little bit.

"Rose."

"No." The voice was odd-sounding. It seemed to echo without actually echoing. And it was flatly emotionless.

"You look like her."

"Rose once merged herself with me." Still no emotions at all, but somehow, Martha felt a bit warmed at the words. As if she were recalling a brave and heroic act.

"And she…took you over?"

"The reverse, actually. Nothing of her now remains in me but this appearance and voice."

"Who are you, then?"

"You call me the TARDIS. And I must ask your permission to continue this conversation before we go any further. In order to allow us to communicate, I have telepathically entered your mind. Right now, your body is asleep, and your conscious mind is much more vulnerable. I would never harm you, but you may find this contact uncomfortably intimate. Should I go?"

Martha was struggling to get her brain to function around the concept of actually talking to the TARDIS. "It's okay. But why are you here? And aren't you a machine?"

"The Doctor has been cold towards you when you have been a better friend to him than he's had in a long time. You deserve better. I cannot repair his behavior, but I did want to offer you what I could of explanations for some of your questions. And to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Over the past three months, you visited me regularly. I very much enjoyed your company."

"But you're a machine!"

"I am a TARDIS. I am aware."

Martha issued a sharp gasp at the word "aware." Because for a split-second, she saw the universe the way the TARDIS did, and even that tiny second was staggering. The TARDIS was not a semi-sentient machine. The TARDIS' mind went far beyond what she or even the Doctor comprehended as sentience. The TARDIS had seemed to have a simple mind to Martha because the simplest bits of it were all she was capable of understanding.

"So all those times when I felt almost like you were happy to see me…?"

"I tried to reach out to you, but emergency power is very limiting. You were so lonely, and it was the best I could give you." The TARDIS smiled, or seemed to, but her face didn't actually change. "I am so glad you're with me."

Martha was suddenly hit with another wave of the TARDIS' awareness, but this time it was warmth and kindness. Though the contact was kind and though she could feel how gently this incredibly powerful mind was being with her, her emotions were still raw from all she'd been through, and she found she had no defense against compassion. It overwhelmed her and she started to cry.

The ancient ship put her arms around Martha and pulled her close. And for the first time in almost three months, Martha felt like she was welcome. Like someone really wanted her there.

"Martha, from the first moment you stepped onto me, shocked because I was 'bigger on the inside,' I wanted you here," the TARDIS told her. The delivery was still flat, but Martha could feel the TARDIS' fond memory.

Martha laughed. "It did take me back a bit, yeah."

"Most humans struggle with it."

Martha tried to hang onto that comforting mental space where she felt like she actually belonged here, but Jenny's face, and John Smith's angry voice when he fired her, and the desperate realization that she and the Doctor were both going to die when the Family bombed the village and everything else that had happened kept coming in, and Martha looked at the TARDIS sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm just so tired."

"Martha, you've gone through so much. And the Doctor has given you nearly no support to do it. It's unreasonable of him to expect that all the hurts caused by Redfern's thoughtlessness during everything, and his own after are all going to be solved by a hug and a 'Thank you.'"

That hug outside the TARDIS, Martha thought. Just after Redfern had turned him down. He came back to her because she was there, but never because she was the one he wanted to see. The tears came back. And this time the TARDIS said nothing. This time she let Martha cry herself out, but wrapped her mind in a comforting embrace of warmth and love.

And finally Martha looked up, still miserable, but feeling somewhat less burdened for having shared it. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you more."

"The Doctor never fully explained to you what I am. In fact, he never even tried. You can not be blamed for what you didn't know to do."

"Well, I know now. And I'm sorry. It can't have been easy for you, either."

"It was hard on all of us, Martha. We will heal." There was a deep pause and finally the TARDIS said, "It is not my place, and coming from me instead of the one who should say it, I know it is almost worthless, but the Doctor is not entirely insensible of you. This regeneration has nearly no skills in proper relations, however."

"Regeneration?"

"He has told you nothing. Of course he hasn't. He prefers to spring these things on his human companions just before they happen so that their reactions are more dramatic," the TARDIS muttered. Then she sighed. "I apologize. That is not truly how he intends it, but it is thoughtless of him not to warn you. You should ask him about regeneration when you get the chance."

"I'll add that to the list."

"He values you, Martha. He is a telepathic creature as am I. We know one another's thoughts, to a degree, and he thinks very highly of you. He is not so thoughtless on purpose. He struggles to properly express this, however," the TARDIS assured her. "I know that I am not the one who should say these things, but for whatever measure they are worth, they are true."

Martha nodded. It wasn't quite what she wanted, but it was better than nothing.

"You're feeling better now, and you do need to rest. I'm going to pull back some and let you sleep properly."

"I thought I was asleep now?"

"But your mind isn't truly asleep. If this is the only sleep you get, you'll wake up feeling more tired than you did when you started."

"Will you be there?"

"I'm always there, Martha. When was the last time you had a bad dream while on me?"

Martha grinned. "Thanks for that."

"It's in my nature. I protect the minds of those within me. You are…one of my people, for lack of a better description. There are other things I do as well, but you should ask the Doctor. As a telepathic species, he has an easier time talking to me."

Martha nodded.

"You'll feel this space start to fade. And you'll feel my mind fade as well. But don't be alarmed. I'm still here."

"I'm glad."

The Console Room began to fade, as did the TARDIS-who-looked-like-Rose.

"It was nice to meet you!" Martha said, before they were gone completely.

Martha opened her eyes to find herself beneath a huge sprawling tree. Before her was a field of golden flowers, glowing in the warm sunshine. She stepped out over the dreamscape, hoping not to wake up for a long time.