It's Just a Scratch
by
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx

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Thank you Cute Gallifreyan, AvitarGirl, Emela, AscendingWithTyler, Dagniro Vanaliel, JForward, Here Me Calling, Afw, Freakk66, Syreene and Tai Greywing!

Hmm, a day late. Sorry, was a bit caught up with exams and revision …

And to top it all off, my computer was gutted completely, so I've lost half this story … (sobs) … but don't fear, it just means I'll have to type some of the chapters up again. I can remember the plot, so that ain't a problem, but if there's a delay with a chapter, that's probably why.

AnyWho, enjoy, dudes and dudettes! I made it especially long just for you!

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8.

So bizarre…

So completely and utterly bizarre.

The feelings, the sensations, the emotions … they were so surreal it was unbelievable.

Her feet were dangling fifty feet in the air, her weight was entirely dependant upon another, and her eyes were jammed tightly shut as she whispered to herself over and over again …

It was, by far, the strangest thing she'd ever experienced in her life.

She could feel him, pressing himself as close to her as he dared, as close as she'd allow, his fingers curled tightly into her shirt to keep her from falling out of his arms.

His breath was freezing, chilling to the bone as it melted into her skin, and the twin beating of his two hearts felt somewhat sluggish against her side, almost as though they were finding it extremely hard to keep working.

As her fear mounted, she soon found herself cuddling closer to him, out of fear or hypnosis she couldn't honestly say.

"Oh, not good. This is so not good. This is so unbelievably not good!"

Murmurs ripped away from her by the softly moaning winds, Martha inhaled sharply as the back of her eyelids were suddenly illuminated by a soft but strong white hue.

And there they were ... just for a second ... before vanishing from existence ... quiet, insignificant little murmurs that merged with her soul, sending her senses reeling.

Whispers ... whispers from within her ...

Blinking her eyes open as her curiosity got the better of her, she gasped as she finally took in what was going on around her.

She could see his wings, stretching out behind her, flapping silently against the gentle breeze as he carried her higher and higher, carried her clear of the trees and out into open air.

And there was the moon; shining so bright it was glowing, so bright it was painful to look at straight on.

Ahh, the irony. A full moon, no less.

"Whoa," she whispered, only to wish she'd kept her mouth shut as she felt rather than heard the Doctor turn his head towards her.

Avoiding his gaze, she became acutely aware of just how exposed her neck was, right about now.

Shivering violently, from cold and fear, she forced her eyes closed again and willed herself to drag her trust in him back to the forefront of her mind. If she could only tell herself that she trusted him implicitly, this whole ordeal would be ever so much more tolerable…

But before she'd managed to drill that mantra into her head, they were plummeting.

A tiny scream escaping her lips before she could quench it, she felt the winds whipping harshly at her face as their speed picked up, and her cardigan sleeves were flapping about mercilessly against her frozen arms.

And there, just for a moment … she'd felt him. Felt his nose rub against the skin of her neck, just beneath her ear.

And with it, the strange whispers had returned, clearer, harsher, and much much more menacing.

'Give in, Martha.'

Twisting violently in his grasp, she snapped her eyes open and turned to face him, eyes wide and terrified.

"No!" she cried, tugging slightly against his death-grip as her fear increased and disposed of her rationality.

He hadn't actually hurt her.

Not at all.

But jumpy and scared senseless, she wasn't to know that.

And she paid the price.

The Doctor, caught unawares, was startled to a floating halt, about thirty feet above the ground, his glowing eyes wide and brimming with concern and just the tiniest trace of overwhelming hunger.

And his grip suddenly slipped.

Martha, tugging herself backwards so as to keep her neck as out of range of his teeth as possible, was suddenly hanging, suspended in mid-air, her eyes wide and fearful, reflecting the glowing rays of the moon as they stared at him in terror.

Before she fell.

The Doctor, stunned, was rather slow on the uptake, and it took a heart-wrenching scream from his endangered companion to snap him back to his senses.

"Oh," he whispered, fangs grating against his lips as his eyes widened in shock.

Head bowed and wings spread, he shot after her screaming, flailing form and reached out for her, forcing his wings to obey his wishes and speed up his descent.

The ground was sickeningly close, now.

And Martha's shrieks were deafening.

Eyes watering as the growing winds stung fiercely at them, he gritted his teeth and pursed his lips, stretching his clawed hands out as far as he could without them popping from their sockets.

And as the ground loomed ever nearer, he felt his fingers brush against the soft fabric of her cardigan.

With a cry of determination, he clung onto it and tugged hard, simultaneously slowing her fall and increasing his until he was directly beside her, his arms enclosed around her waist protectively and his head resting in the crook of her neck.

Landing seconds later - his legs shaky enough on their own but failing completely as Martha's gave out in shock beside him - both were sent tumbling to the floor, gasping for a breath that neither felt they'd ever be able to take in again.

Leaning his head back against the dew-drenched grass beneath him, the Doctor let his eyes slide closed and ran a clawed hand through his hair, trying to force his weakening hearts to pick up a normal pace once again.

But to his surprise, he was soon forced to lift a foot clear as Martha raised her head beside him and struggled to untangle her legs from his, scuttling away from him as she finally managed to regain control of her body.

'Why won't you let him claim you, Martha? You know how much he needs it. You know how much I need it.'

Startled by the suddenness of her withdrawal, the Doctor opened one eye and stared at her, frowning.

"Are you alright?" he croaked out, but soon found himself cursing under his breath as Martha hurried forwards again, a hand reaching out to him, her eyes glazing over and her lips parted.

Shaking his head, he knocked her arm down again and winced as she gasped in pain, snapping back to reality in time to clutch painfully at her leg.

"What?" he whispered, rather relieved when his word wasn't laced with its vampiric undertone.

Shaking her head in dismay, tears leaking from her eyes, she pulled up the leg of her jeans slightly and sighed heavily, staring at the manifesting dark bruise that was beginning to blossom on her ankle.

'Go on, Martha ... one bite, that's all it'd take. Then you're free ... he's free ... I'm free ...'

Reflected by the moonlight that was washing over the pair of them, the Doctor scrambled up as he spotted the dark bruising himself and sat on his knees, reaching out towards it only to sigh heavily as Martha quickly pulled her leg away.

"I need to look at that," he tried, groaning as her leg shot out again in submission.

Trying to let it run right over his head, as though her breaking will didn't actually bother him, he let his fingers run gently over the swelling and winced with her as she gasped in pain.

"Twisted, at the very least. Might even be broken," he sighed. "Not something I'd accounted for, but it can't be helped I guess …"

And he fell silent, shrugging.

Until he spotted her hand, that is.

She'd reached out on instinct to pull his clawed fingers away from her ankle, and the Doctor relinquished his grip willingly, meaning her outstretched hand had nothing to grip onto.

And the blossoming, scarlet cut was glistening invitingly at him, unprotected by its exhausted owner.

The Doctor's eyes widened in delight, his tongue gliding gently over his fangs, and he flicked his hungry gaze up to see Martha's face.

She had her eyes closed, and her other hand had flown to her head in obvious pain.

'He's noticed it, Martha. Don't fight him. You can't fight it anymore.'

Martha shuddered, moaning gently and allowing both hands to claw despairingly at her scalp. The voices ... they hurt to hear! They were pounding against her skull, bouncing around her head and making damn sure she could hear nothing but their taunting calls.

But the Doctor didn't need to know ...

'Oh, but the Doctor must know already, Martha. We're one and the same, remember?'

"Please," she half whispered, then shook her head violently, rubbing a hand over her eyes as silence fell inside her head, a tiny chuckle vanishing without a trace and leaving Martha wondering if she'd actually imagined all of that.

Concerned, he let his gaze drop to her bleeding hand and was faintly disappointed to see it clasped on top of her leg.

"What's the matter?" he asked, eyes riveted to where he knew scarlet droplets of blood were slowly gathering in her balled up palm.

"Headache," she murmured, scrunching a bit of hair up as it grew in fierceness.

"Oh," he said softly, hardly listening.

Eyes twinkling malevolently, he reached a palm out.

"Let me see your hand," he said, tones rich with their spooky tone on tone effect.

Martha's palm opened in obedience.

Blinking he looked up to see that her eyes were open, but her expression was vacant, as though she was looking straight through him without actually seeing him kneeling in front of her.

And his eyes fell to the bleeding cut again.

It'd only be for a second …

She'd hardly notice …

And he was so hungry …

'Let him do it, Martha. Don't fight him. Give yourself up to his beckoning calls ... you know you want to.'

In a second her hand was enclosed within his and his head had lowered to the damaged tissue, tongue springing out in delight and lapping up the scarlet droplets with ravenous delight.

Apparently shocked back into movement, Martha screeched and jumped backwards, stumbling as weight was applied to her injured ankle and falling to the ground again before she could put much more than a few steps between herself and him.

Eyes gleaming in anger, he shot after her, fangs bared and the tiniest smear of red lighting up his bloodless lips. The moonlight seemed somehow brighter than it had a moment ago, and she could see it's pearly white brightness illuminated twice over in his pain-racked orbs.

As his hand gripped onto her wrist, she threw all caution to the winds and kicked out at him with her damaged ankle, paying dearly as pain shot straight up it, but her reward offsetting the hurt as he was sent rocketing backwards, wings spread wide to catch himself.

Shaking his head in disbelief, she watched in terror, backing away until she found herself pressed up against a strange, prickly bush that was acting as a wall - along with its fellows - to enclose this patch of moonlit grass from the outside world.

But he seemed to have caught himself at last.

Eyes wide in horror, a hand raising to tap gingerly at his lips, he stared at her, guilt alight on his ashen features and his hands visibly trembling with self disgust.

"Oh God," he murmured, pulling his fingers away and shuddering as he spotted the tiny scarlet stain that was clinging to them.

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered, staring at her with pleading eyes. "I honestly didn't mean to do that." His words were rich with revulsion, but nevertheless Martha still found herself clinging to the bramble bush behind her for support, satisfied that she couldn't back into it any further without it puncturing a lung, or something.

'We enjoyed that, Martha. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. You need to submit. Give in to him. He needs you to. I need you to.'

Unable to think of anything to say, she remained silent, shivering from cold and fear, her eyes fixed on his but not a sound escaping her. Her injured hand was soon curled in on itself and safely disguised behind her back.

But the damage had already been done.

"Martha?" he tried, disturbed by her eerie silence.

She blinked at him, but did very little else.

Shaking his head in frustration, he practically howled up at the skies, head thrown back in annoyance and a trembling hand running yet again through his unruly locks.

But after a moment, she finally spoke again, and the Doctor's scarlet gaze dropped to her face in surprise.

"I cut it," she said simply, staring at him meaningfully, her eyes misted slightly but her gaze no longer absent as she considered him thoughtfully.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"I cut my hand," she said, easing her grip as she felt her fingernails biting into the wound and raising it to show him. "On a bramble. Before."

The Doctor shook his head.

"That's no reason for me to do what I did," he said, struggling to ignore the droplet that was sliding a tentative path down and over her exposed wrist, even as he watched.

Jamming his eyes shut and turning away, he shuddered violently.

"That was a bad idea, wasn't it?" he heard her ask softly, feeling her penetrating gaze burning into his back.

He nodded glumly.

"It's even harder, now," he told her with a sigh. "I don't think I'm going to make it back to the TARDIS in time. Not now, not after that."

Martha nodded glumly, eyes betraying her depression as she sank to the floor, her ankle protesting from supporting her for so long.

"You could … you could try, though," she spoke up at last, hopefully. "I mean … we're here, aren't we? And I can't get back over there without you."

Her eyes widened in horror at that thought.

If the Doctor couldn't keep control of himself, if he gave in to it … she was stuck...

Although saying that, she highly doubted she'd survive for very long if the two of them were stranded here. Minutes, at most. So it wouldn't really be much of a problem for her, in the end. She wouldn't be around for long enough to worry about it.

And now the situation was glaring at her with appalling clarity.

She really did have nothing else left to lose.

So she may as well push on with what they'd set out to do and keep a hold on that vain possibility that everything might just turn out alright.

'You know it won't all turn out alright, Martha. Why waste your time? Why waste your energy? Why waste whatever precious time you've got left? Why not just give yourself in? It'll be quick. Might even be painless. The Doctor admires you enough to grant you that, at least.'

Glancing up at him, her head low but her eyes seeking out his in a silent plea, she drank in his reply like poison, gliding effortlessly to her feet as the words washed through her, cleansing her soul.

"I know," he half-whispered, hearts skipping their sluggish beats as he watched her rise silently and make her way carefully towards him.

Stopping just in front of him, but apparently not bothering to reprimand herself for giving in again, she extended a tentative hand and touched a finger to his rose-stained lips.

"Has that …" she faltered, her voice cracking. "Will that have made the change permanent? I mean, you drank blood, didn't you?"

To her relief, he shook his head after a moment's contemplation.

"No," he growled, the words seeming less his own as the minutes ticked by. "I don't think so. The scanner said the first kill triggers a complete turning, so I don't think the fact that I … did that … will affect the change except to make the need even stronger."

Martha giggled pitifully, feeling strangely light-headed as his voice drowned her.

"As if it wasn't strong enough in the first place," she mock-whispered, her head spinning and her ankle objecting to being put to use yet again.

Swaying a little, she half-shrugged, eyes sliding closed.

'That's it, Martha. Take the voice in. Obey it. We're only trying to help you.'

But the movement had sent what little balance she'd had evaporating from existence.

Extending his arms to catch her, his reflexes unusually quick, he set her down with him, his eyes narrowed in concern.

"You're not alright, are you?" he said grimly, gaze flickering up and over her neck before focussing on her pallid face.

"Observant, aren't ya?" she chuckled weakly.

"What is it?"

She frowned, her eyes flitting about beneath their closed lids as she pondered over her answer. The Doctor waited patiently, quite content to admire her stretched neck as he clung to her, offering whatever support she needed.

But his hunger was swiftly silenced at her response as the shock stilled his hearts for a few seconds.

"You," she said plainly, before giggling again. "You are the problem! I can feel things I really shouldn't be! It is so strange!" she waved a hand around a little to stress her point, and the hysterical giggles were growing.

"I don't understand what you mean," the Doctor said, placing a hand flat against her head and frowning at the heat radiating from it.

She blinked her eyes open and forced the hazy fuzz from her senses, staring at him through bambi-wide, slightly pained orbs.

'Give him your blood, Martha. You'll feel better for it, we promise.'

Leaning in slightly so their noses were almost touching, she whispered, "I can feel your hunger. I can feel the blood-lust … And it's so strong, Doctor. It's so strong that I want nothing more than to let you do it now and get it over with."

She craned her neck, as if in invitation, and the Doctor stared at her in shock. Reaching up, he gently gripped her chin and forced her gaze down again, cutting off his access before he could take advantage of her weakness and eagerness to sacrifice herself.

"How can you -?"

But she cut him off.

"I'm your victim, aren't I? The first one. There's a bond, see," she laughed, wiping weakly at her eyes. "And the minutes are ticking passed. The bond's getting stronger as your desire is."

"How'd you know so much?" he asked her, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Her laughter ceased for a moment, and she opened her eyes, a hand flying to her head while the other was hanging weakly over his shoulder.

'Tell him, Martha. Tell him about me and he'll soon understand. It'll show him that this really is the right thing to do. He needs you, Martha. We both do.'

"Dunno," she shrugged, grinning. "Must be because we're linked now. You know, vampire to victim. The vampire's telling me things …" and she suddenly shuddered, pulling her arm away so forcefully that she was sent flying.

Landing on her back with a dull thud, she rolled onto her front and moaned gently.

"Make him stop," she pleaded, tears leaking, all traces of giddiness vanishing in an instant. "Please, make him stop talking to me! It hurts!"

The Doctor stared at her in horror, reaching a hand out to her shoulder but pulling away quickly as her shivers grew at the slightest touch.

"What the Hell -?"

"You're doing this to me Doctor, and it hurts! Please, please make it go away! He won't leave me alone!"

Ignoring his initial worry for her welfare, he reached out again; only this time he did grasp her by the shoulders, raising her up until he was staring directly into her eyes. The tears continued to fall, but she didn't seem to notice them.

"How can you be hearing things? It's me who's changing," he asked of her, wondering if she knew that answer as well.

She shook her head sadly.

"The voices want me to give in," she said softly. "He's telling me I should let you take me. And it hurts when he speaks, Doctor, it really hurts!"

"Hurts how? Why?"

But she fell silent, shaking her head and stumbling away from him, her ankle crumpling on the first attempt but supporting her on the second.

Suddenly anything but hungry at the moment, the Doctor shook his head too, ridding it of the gnawing guilt that was eating away at his twisted stomach in the place where his need for food had been mere moments ago.

No, seeing Martha suffering like this … he'd lost his appetite.

For the moment at least.

Jumping to his feet, he watched as Martha imitated him, obviously fighting with herself but giving in anyway.

"Right," he murmured, staring around the clearing and glancing momentarily up at the moon, searching for one of the more prominent rays of light and following its path down to a small, sheltered area near a large bush at the edge of the clearing.

"We don't have time for this," he said to himself, hurrying forwards with an anxious glance at Martha, who was standing with one foot curled into the grass while the other was being gingerly tested, a hand gripping at her hair and her eyes tightly closed.

Knowing it was horrible to think, he found himself rather relieved by the timing of this disturbing side-effect.

At the very least, it had snapped him out of his 'let's-eat-Martha' moment.

But for how long, he couldn't be sure.

All he could do was take advantage of whatever limited time he'd been granted.

Scarlet eyes wide and desperation growing by the second, he dropped to his knees and hurriedly ran a hand over the wide hedge of different plants, horror mounting as each bush he passed was proven to be the wrong plant.

"Is this it, Doctor?"

Looking up, he spotted Martha – crouching now, her ankle apparently giving out for the third time in as many minutes - a few feet away from him, having apparently crawled over to help but not quite made it to his side. She'd given up mid-step and was now kneeling beside the prickly bush she'd taken refuge by a few minutes earlier.

She jabbed her head at it in question, clasping a hand securely around it and letting a soft moan pass her lips, avoiding his despairing gaze as the voices in her head began their incessant whispering again.

'Go to him, Martha. Give yourself up. He needs food, and you need rest. So tired, you are. Why not let him make it all better?'

Clawing desperately at her hair, she willed herself to ignore them, avoiding the Doctor's gaze as he hurried to her side and reached out for the plant she'd indicated, his clawed hands running expertly over the spiked leaves.

"Martha Jones, you're a genius!" he informed her, the first true smile he'd felt in a long while fluttering onto his face.

But it didn't hang around for long.

Extending a sharpened claw, he snapped one of the leaves clean from its fellows, hissing in pain as the nail cracked, having misinterpreted the strength of the plant. Beside the useless stump that had once been a fully-formed spiky leaf, a small black bud withered and died, it's food source having been cut clean away.

The Doctor spared it a pained glance, then turned away, hastily placing the miracle ingredient into an internal pocket.

Turning to Martha, he shuddered, his mouth dropping open in horror as she fell to her knees, leaning her head down and clutching despairingly at her head.

"Please, Doctor," she whimpered. "Please make it stop!"

The Doctor stared at her in dismay.

"I can't," he whispered, leaning in front of her and feeling his failing hearts bleeding for her. "I don't know what's happening, I'm really sorry. If we can get back to the TARDIS, we've got the ingredient we needed. Maybe when I change back, you'll be okay."

It was a fleeting hope, but it was better than nothing, right?

But Martha didn't appear to be listening.

'He's breaking free, Martha. And when his hunger takes over, your death will be painful. He won't be able to control himself. Why not give yourself up now? At least then he'll have enough control to make it quick.'

Martha shook her head frantically, tears leaking like flowing waterfalls as she pressed her burning head against the dew-drenched grass.

The Doctor shivered, reaching out to grasp her shoulder but pulling back, the hunger returning in an instant.

"Oh,." he whispered sadly. Raising his gaze to her face, he forced the pains away and stretched a hand out to tilt her chin up urgently. "Martha?." he called firmly. "We have to go. I need to get you over that barrier and soon. You're gonna have to let me fly you over there."

But Martha shook her head desperately, pulling away and falling backwards as her injured ankle twisted awkwardly beneath her.

"No," she murmured. "I can't. It hurts! He wants me to submit. You want me to submit! I can't do this!"

Eyes closed and head raised pleadingly skywards, he suppressed the growing, gnawing need and opened them again, staring at her with determination.

"Trust me, Martha. You said before that you trusted me. Well, I need you to trust me now. If I can just get you over that barrier, you're safe. You can run on ahead of me, I won't stop you. If it turns out I need you to, you can take the final ingredient and finish that antidote for me, but before then we need to get out of here before I lose it completely. Please, Martha," he pleaded gently, shaking her shoulders slightly. "We're so close! We can do this! I just need you to stay with me, yeah?"

Blinking her eyes open as the eerie tones washed through her, for once soothing instead of enticing, she focussed on the words, fearfully pushing away the piercing sounds of his vampiric 'other half' as she tried to drink in the strength he was willing her to feel.

This was all wrong.

Why was she the one suffering like this? She had nothing to do with it! Not really.

Shaking her head willfully, she half-nodded and mentally forced the strange, taunting voices to the edges of her mind, eyes blinking as they settled pleadingly on his. He nodded encouragingly.

"That's it," he said gently, making use of his strange vocal skills as he realised he'd finally managed to figure out how to control them. Using the tones to his advantage, he demolished his own hunger as best he could and willed her on, hoping to God that he'd managed to get through to her. "That's it. We'll be a minute or so at most. I promise."

But her response as she finally snapped out of it was not what he'd wanted to hear.

"I trusted you before, Doctor," she said sadly, her tears finally ceasing their seemingly endless flow as she wiped angrily at her eyes, frustrated with herself for giving her mind up to the darkness with minimal effort. "Didn't we nearly die trying to get over here? "

Stunned into silence, the Doctor said nothing.

Finally, she nodded in resignation.

"You're right," she said quietly. "Nearly done ..."

She trailed off and sighed heavily, closing her eyes in submission and extending her hand to him for the second time.

"I just hope you can keep your promise, Doctor," she added, voice eerily soft, as his arms looped gently around her waist and tugged her encouragingly to her feet. She blinked and stared up at the moon, waiting for the strange, unnatural sensations to ensnare her senses again as they kicked off, soaring skywards effortlessly. Forcing away the voices as best she could, her final words were whipped away from her and devoured by the gentle wind; "For both our sakes."

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Well, there you go, folks. Chapter Eight. Hard to write, - well, hard to write yet again due to losing it curtesy of useless ICT systems after completing this fiction - and it's late at night, so sorry if it sucked. I'll probably have to change it again tomorrow, when I'm actually properly awake ...

But anyway.
Next should be up fairly soon!
Thanksies for reading! And y'all can have a cookie for being so brilliant!

Blessed Be!

Hugs,
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx