A/N: This is John Smith's point of view as he opens the watch in Human Nature/Family of Blood. I wished there had been a scene showing it, but there wasn't. So I had to fill it in myself :)

John Smith stared down at the fob watch that sat so innocently in his hands. It was a simple watch, with a plain metal cover, inscribed with strange, yet familiar symbols. It certainly didn't look like it could be the instrument of his death. Yet it would be. For he would open it, and cease to exist. Martha had told him that he would still be there, but he knew, this other man, the Doctor was the only person she wanted to see standing in John Smith's shoes. This romantic hero, this lonely alien, this stranger who wore his face would walk out of this room, not him. He met Joan's eyes, his face twisted in that anguish that comes from having to make the worst of all decisions.

Her eyes met John's calmly. She smiled at him encouragingly, but he could see the sorrow behind her eyes. His throat worked.

"I... I'm sor-" He couldn't finish.

"It's alright." She whispered, and his heart broke for her, separate from his own pain. Her love would die tonight, and she was telling him to do it! His spirit warmed to behold her courage.

He looked down again at the watch he clutched, his death. He took a deep breath, set his jaw and opened it.

His vision exploded in a whirl of gold, noise, and emotions. The memories flashed before his eyes and John Smith was not conscious of them being new. They were right, they belonged to him.

And yet, it hurt. The lives he had lived had had their joyful times, yes, but the overarching feeling was pain, loneliness, just as Marthahad said. He saw battles won and lost, the ultimate war that could not be won, and only barely survived, the one that cost him his entire race. Faces flashed before his eyes, faces he had loved, left behind, or lost. One face stood out, and his hearts broke anew as he pictured a blonde human girl who was so very special...

His thoughts swirled, and shifted, then suddenly faded. He was himself.

The Doctor became aware that he was kneeling on the floor of the house, his cheeks wet with tears, and Joan's arms steadying him. He heaved a shuddering breath, and pulled away from her, scrubbing at his face as an excuse to avoid her eyes. He could remember everything that had happened while he was John Smith, and the memories cut him to the core.

He could remember the nervousness he felt during their gentle courting. There was a tentative kiss. Laughter. Dancing. His recalled his terror and surge of protectiveness when the Family had entered the dance hall, and threatened Joan. Then came the realization that he would have to die and the heart wrenching glimpse of a future that could have been. He had sobbed into her shoulder, terrified at what he was being told to do, but then raising his head and doing it anyway, despite the fear. In choosing to die, the human John Smith was braver than the mighty Doctor ever could be.

The Doctor took another breath, and then looked up into the concerned eyes of Joan Redfern.

"Are you him now, then?" She asked calmly. So very brave, she was, but within the Doctor, the man who had loved this woman could see the cracks in her facade. He nodded.

"I'm back." He said, and stood. He was still clutching the watch, and he now looked down on it. He could now understand the writing, he noticed mildly. She nodded, and turned from him.

"You'd better go and stop them." She said, for they could still hear the bombardment of the village in the distance.

"Yeah." She didn't look at him as he crossed the room, and wrenched open the door. He had a world to save, and a Family to punish.

A/N: Hope that was okay, thanks for reading!