Martha was a doctor and, although the Doctor’s wounds were unpleasant, she’d seen a lot worse during her career. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that this was the Doctor. The Doctor, who she trusted and respected and would always, to some extent or another, love. She’d seen him weak and defeated before, but she’d never had the opportunity to treat the physical wounds that the Master liked inflict. Had he been through this every day on the Valiant? She refused to gasp and she refused to allow her shock to show on her face, but her concern was palpable. It made her feel a little sick.

She’d unpacked the medical kit while he’d been undressing, leaving the equipment she’d need spread out on the coffee table.

“In the bathroom,” she replied, sitting down next to him. “I need to treat your back first. You’re badly burned. Did he use … did he use the screwdriver for this?”

Later, she’d allow the shock to set in. She might even cry. Now, however, she focused on treating her patient.