Title: Tones of Home
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Frank Martin
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: slash_me_twice
Prompt: 24, Wind
Author's Note: Frank didn't have a last name on the show, so I took the liberty of giving him one. Slight spoilers for Daleks in Manhattan & The Evolution of the Daleks.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Frank Martin, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


Frank closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky and reveling in the warmth of the sun. This was the first time that he and the Doctor had been back on Earth for a while, and even though it was an Earth far different than the one he was used to, he was enjoying it.

The sun and wind on his face .... they were different from any other planet. He'd had a good time seeing other places in the galaxy, but no other planet felt quite like home. He was convinced that he would always know instinctively when they were on Earth.

Did the Doctor feel that way? he thought, turning the question over in his mind. If Gallifrey still existed, would he always just know when he was back there, even if he might not actually see where he was?

He probably would, Frank told himself with an inward sigh. Everyone knew where their home was, even if they had been away from it for a very long time. And Earth would always be his home, no matter where in the galaxy he and his lover might go.

But the Doctor could never have that joyful sense of homecoming, Frank thought, a pang of guilt assailing him for feeling so happy to be back on Earth. The Doctor's home was gone, and he could never go back. His only home now was the Tardis.

Frank couldn't imagine having no place to call his home, no place where he could truly feel he belonged. And he definitely couldn't imagine being the last of his race -- well, with the exception of a renegade monster who was trying to kill him.

The thought that the Master could possibly be after the two of them at the moment made him uneasy, but that was something he would have to get used to. He'd thrown his lot in with the Doctor's; whatever threatened the Time Lord threatened him, too.

He'd made up his mind when he had decided to go off into time and space with the Doctor that this man was going to be the center of his life. And he always kept his promises. There was no turning back; he was with the Doctor for the rest of his life.

He might not ever feel the sun and wind on his face again the next time they left Earth. There might be a possibility that they'd never come back here. But he was fine with that. As long as he was with the man he loved, he could be happy anywhere.

Could the same be said of the Doctor? He couldn't help but wonder if the Time Lord would get tired of him; he seemed so much less than the other man, at least in his own eyes. He was a mere human, with a short life span compared to the other man's.

Of course the Doctor wouldn't get tired of him and leave him alone in some other place that he didn't know well, or even bring him back to Earth in his own time, Frank admonished himself. The Doctor wasn't like that. When he loved, that love was total and complete.

He had no reason doubt his lover in any way. The Doctor had made a commitment to him, and Frank knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Time Lord took that commitment seriously. He would honor it above all else, no matter what might come to pass.

Even though he had asked the Doctor to bring him back here, just because he wanted to be on Earth again for a while, that didn't mean that he wanted to stay here. No, he wanted to spend his life with the Time Lord. He couldn't imagine having any other life now.

This what what he'd always wanted -- someone to love, and someone who loved him. Someone who would accept him for who he was, someone who didn't feel that they had to hide the fact that they were in love, which he would have had to do if he'd stayed in his own time.

He would always have felt guilty if he'd stayed there, as though loving another man was wrong and unclean in some way. Being with the Doctor made him feel that he could breathe freely for the first time in his life; for once, he felt completely free and natural.

That was why the wind on his face felt so good, Frank told himself -- because he was letting it wash away all the doubts and fears that he'd carried in his mind for so long. He was finally free of the restrictions that had always been placed on him.

As long as he'd been in his own time, he would always have felt in his heart that being gay and loving other men was wrong. He might not have wanted to believe it, but that was what his society told him, and there would always have been a part of him that was weighed down with guilt.

He would always have been secretive, hiding who he really was -- possibly even marrying a woman and trying to force himself to believe that he was happy with his life, all the while leading a very different life in secret, skulking around and hiding his true self.

Now, he wouldn't have to do that. The Doctor had saved him from living a life that he would have hated, a life that really wasn't any kind of a life at all. The Doctor had freed him to enjoy the sun on his face, the wind on his skin, a life where he didn't have to hide.

Frank couldn't help smiling at the thought; he had known when the Time Lord had first burst into his life that this man was something special. How special he couldn't have known at the time, but he'd known that his life was changed forever.

If only he could do the same for the man he loved, he thought regretfully. If only he could take the Doctor to Gallifrey and let him feel the winds of his home planet on his skin, let him raise his face to the sun he'd grown up under and feel it shining on his face.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do was be here for the man he loved, to give the Doctor the love and companionship he needed -- and to protect the Time Lord to the best of his ability. That was the least he could do in return for all that had been done for him.

That didn't seem like much to him, but it would have to be good enough. If there was anything more that he could do, then he would -- but until then, he would simply be by the Doctor's side, supporting him in every way that he could, and loving him.

It was a tragedy that the Doctor would never have these tones of home again, that he'd never know what it was like to be back on Gallifrey. But at least he had every other place in the galaxy, in whatever time he chose to visit them in. He could have a million homes.

None of them would make up for his actual home, of course. But the Doctor was a traveler; he'd long ago made the decision to be what he was. He might not have a home to go back to, but he and Frank could make a home no matter where they were.

Raising his face to the sky again, he took a last look around him before taking a step back from the door of the ship and turning his back to the world outside. He was going to find the Doctor, and then the two of them were going to go out and see what this day would bring.