Stride, yes. The stride being a mix of terror, confusion, anger, and memories. All those memories. The genocide, the torture, the nights alone praying to a God she wasn't sure existed to keep the Doctor safe. All those memories she had because of him.
She wanted to kill him.
Martha wanted him to feel the same things she felt. The loss, the fear, the thought at any moment it all could be lost. And a sideways glance to the medical tools nearby, things so easily used to kill as well heal.
It took all her strength and will to walk closer, beside his bed now. She raised her hand almost zombie-like towards the tools. And paused in thought.
Then Martha punched the Master square in the jaw, with all her weight and strength behind it.
"Yeah, suppose I am."
She couldn't disappoint the Doctor, not like that. Killing him wouldn't end anything. But a punch like that? Well, it could certainly make her feel better.
no subject
She wanted to kill him.
Martha wanted him to feel the same things she felt. The loss, the fear, the thought at any moment it all could be lost. And a sideways glance to the medical tools nearby, things so easily used to kill as well heal.
It took all her strength and will to walk closer, beside his bed now. She raised her hand almost zombie-like towards the tools. And paused in thought.
Then Martha punched the Master square in the jaw, with all her weight and strength behind it.
"Yeah, suppose I am."
She couldn't disappoint the Doctor, not like that. Killing him wouldn't end anything. But a punch like that? Well, it could certainly make her feel better.