She had learned over the last few weeks that when it came to these things, Eliot knew that he was talking about. She did and he instructed and looked at him. He cared. He didn't want her killing someone, granted she knew she wouldn't but everything was just bubbling up to the surface and it wasn't anger anymore... it was ... something else.
Martha continued her assault on the bag, managing to get hit in the side again in the process but after about eight minutes her hands fell to her sides and she just stared at it. She just... she couldn't. Her posture slumped and the emotions were more of fear and mourning than pure anger.
She turned around, managing to hold it together. Martha never claimed to be untouched by her experiences. She'd managed to hid it rather well though. Her small romance with Tom Milligan after the events of the Year That Wasn't had not panned out because he just didn't understand. How could he? He didn't know what she was, who she was, what she had been through. Knowing about aliens and the like was one thing. Having experienced it was another. "He..." she bit her lower lip. "Have you ever felt the heat of an explosion at your back and known that looking behind you would be your death?" The images of Japan burning were etched into her nightmares. "And known that somehow," she lowered herself to the floor next to him trying tio get the gloves off. "That its is all your fault." She didn't mean to sound overemotional but today had been a great shock. "I made him open the watch. I returned him to himself." She had explained the Chamelion Arch while telling him about Farringham in 1913.
Martha shook her head. "I caused the destruction and then saved the world but... Japan burnt, Eliot." she hadn't told him that. "I could hear the screams," her voice was even almost as if she were seeing it in her head. "I still hear them. I won't let him do it here."