THE TAPE

For several minutes, nothing happened, the tape simply ran with a single image of the front and part of the side of the mansion. He fast-forwarded until he saw himself and Frannie appear in the front window. They had stood there frozen for a minute or two, talking about Martha. He had been thinking about her then, remembering their moments together, sizing up how much he loved her.

And then on the left side of the screen, Martha appeared. He gulped down a sob when he saw her. Even on this awful, grainy home movie, she was beautiful. It pained him to see her in her last few moments before their world shattered – he supposed this was why Billy had tried to stop him seeing this reel.

She was looking about, clearly trying to be conscious of the angels, should any of them turn up. She walked up to the house and stood on tiptoes, looking in through a window. She opened the cellar door, and seemed to call out for Frannie, but thought better of going inside

When she began to back away from the cellar door, the Doctor sighed. This would prove her undoing. She was searching far off in the wooded-over garden area for the angels, for a few moments forgetting to look all around her. On the right side of the screen, an angel appeared. It floated, moving toward Martha calmly, as though it were overly confident that she would not turn and see it. She was backing toward it, casting eyes over the grounds in an effort to avoid this very scenario.

And the awful moment seemed to happen in a split second, almost in an imperceptible flash. He heard her scream his name and then disappear as the angel reached out to her. He watched himself on the other side of the front window. He hadn't realised he'd done it, but he'd thrown himself against the window in a surge of horror before shouting her name and bolting through the front door. He watched the next thirty seconds as Frannie turned her attention back to the angels on the stairs, the Doctor walked out of the house like a zombie to touch the air that Martha had last breathed, and Billy appeared after having followed the sound. And then Billy approached the camera, and the image went to grey snow.

He couldn't comprehend what had taken place. He understood that when one thinks one might be surrounded, one cannot keep a three-hundred-sixty degree view around one's person. He understood why she backed away, he did not fault her for that. But she must have known the angel was there, at least for a second, because she screamed for him, and if she knew it was there, then she must have seen it, in which case, how could it touch her?

He watched it again from the point where Martha wandered into the frame, all the way up to the grey snow. Then again, only this time, when the angel came into view, he watched it in slow motion. The answer became a bit clearer. In the space of one or two seconds, she turned, saw the angel less than a foot away from her, and in a blast of startled panic, screamed out his name and tried to run. It had happened so fast that no one could have stopped it – even the camera didn't move fast enough to catch it fully. Of course, she knew that turning and running from a Weeping Angel was futile, but knowing doesn't help much when you're suddenly surprised and flooded with swift and blinding fear.

He watched it a fourth time at full-speed, paying full attention to the angel itself. And something caught his eye, a detail he had missed on previous viewings. After zapping Martha, the angel seemed to swoon. It didn't move, because Billy must have come close enough to see it, and then the Doctor was outside staring at it, but it definitely weakened. It became transparent for a brief second, and then again, and then it was solid once more.

He thought about the angels, how they live, how they feed, how they work. The eat the future. Almost literally. There would be no reason for a conquest like this to weaken one of them unless...

The Doctor stood up suddenly. He buried both hands in his hair and tugged until it hurt. His face contorted in deep thought. His eyes bulged with cautious hope, and his body began to hum with something like genius. Without even switching off the television or the camera, he flew out the door and ran down the stairs.

Billy was standing in front of the building, waving to taxi which carried Sally Pfitzinger, who was waving back.

"Billy!" the Doctor shouted. "When that angel touched you, what did it sound like?"

"What?" asked Billy, still a bit bleary-eyed at the early hour.

"What did it sound like? Did you hear a pop?"

"Why, what difference does it make?"

"I'm not sure yet," the Doctor said, beginning to pace. "But it might do, still. Can you remember the sound?"

Billy thought about it. He closed his eyes for a moment, and said, "I was in the parking garage. Sally Sparrow left. The angels were surrounding the blue box. I got closer to them... and then I blinked..."

He was silent, and the Doctor gave him time to process.

"...I landed across town, against a brick wall... it was like... whoosh! You know? Whoosh."

"Whoosh when you left or whoosh when you landed?"

"Well... it was like whoosh when I left, but then when I landed, it sounded like... I don't know, like a motor powering down. Like it was out of juice. Could you hear it when you found me?"

"We didn't hear anything," the Doctor told him. "Only you. But the point is, when Martha and I were zapped in 2007, it was the same angel that zapped you. And what we heard was definitely a pop or a bang. Why would the same angel pop for us, and whoosh for you?"

Billy looked at him incredulously. He exhaled through pursed lips. "Okay, it's definitely too early for this conversation. Want to get some coffee?"

"There's some fresh percolating in my flat – you're welcome to it. I have to go."

"Go where?"

"Wester Drumlins," the Doctor said, beginning to walk away.

"Oh no, Doctor, don't do that! What for?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you!"

"I believe an awful lot of crazy stuff now. At least let me come with you," Billy called, trying to catch up.

"Well, then, shake a leg."

Being a much smaller, and less determined man than was the Doctor, Billy had to jog a bit to keep up. They rounded the corner toward the courtyard. "The tube station is the other way, Doctor."

"Not taking the tube," the Doctor muttered. "Just one thing, Billy. You did say that you were zapped after you had collected the police box from the house?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well..." the Doctor said, entering the decaying courtyard. They traipsed through the leaves and moist muck until they found the TARDIS, hidden away in the clutter. The Doctor gestured to it, as though introducing Billy to an old friend, which was, in fact, what he was doing.

"It's a police box," Billy said flatly. "Those things are everywhere in the 60's."

"Look closer."

Billy squinted. "The windows are the wrong size! Oh my God, this is the same police box. It's yours?"

"It's the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "It travels in time and space. It's going to help us get Martha back."

"Did you find out what year she wound up in?" asked Billy, stepping toward the TARDIS, touching the outside.

"I don't need to. I discovered the whooshing."

Billy looked at him and blinked hard. "Okay. Lost me."

The Doctor used his key to open the TARDIS door, then said, "That's okay. For now, just step into my office."

"Seriously?"

"Of course."

Billy stepped inside and looked around with awe. He seemed unable to speak. The console room glowed, and the TARDIS made a little groan in solidarity with the Doctor.

"What was that?" asked Billy, staring wide-eyed at the console.

"Er, well, the TARDIS is alive. It senses that I'm in grief," he answered, clearing his throat. "It knows what happened to Martha."

"How does it know?" asked Billy, walking toward the centre of the room.

"Well, like I said, it's alive. It's alive and sentient. It has perspective over all time and all life in the universe. It is connected to everything, especially those who travel within. The TARDIS' technology is such that it envelops and protects its travellers, and vice versa. There is a psychic and physical connection between me and the TARDIS, and between Martha and the TARDIS. It can feel her absence, and it can feel my pain."

"Wow," Billy sighed, running his hand gently over the edge of the console. "So, does that mean if the TARDIS is in pain, you and Martha can feel it also?"

"I can, definitely," he Doctor answered, leaning against the stool. "And in time, Martha should be able to, as well. The TARDIS leaves its mark, for sure." He stepped forward and began the dance, circling round the console, flipping and turning, buzzing and popping.

The TARDIS began its grinding journey toward Wester Drumlins. Billy grabbed onto a railing and braced himself for the always-bumpy journey. When the vehicle stopped, the Doctor ran to the window and looked out.

"There they are," he said.

Billy joined him at the window. "All four."

"I'm glad you're here, Billy," the Doctor said. "This would have been mightily difficult to do on my own. I'm going to need your eyes."

"You mean, you want me to watch them while you do whatever it is you're going to do."

Without answering, the Doctor opened the door, and they both stepped out of the TARDIS.

"Notice anything funny?" the Doctor asked.

A pause, and then Billy said, "That one is still standing in the same spot, isn't it?"

"Right you are, Billy."

The Doctor approached the angel that had zapped Martha, which, eighteen hours later, was still in the same place, in the same position, with its finger pointing at the spot where Martha had been consumed.

"Why can't it move?"

"It's weak," the Doctor said. "Swallowing Martha's potential energy made it weak."

"How?" Billy's face showed genuine interest, genuine confusion.

"Martha's potential energy is tainted with the past," the Doctor said. "These things feed on the future, but Martha is a time-traveller. In her future, lies the past. The angel found it a bitter pill, and it's taking a bit of time to digest her. I expect in another few days, it will be fine, but for the moment, it has been significantly abated."

Billy thought about it. Was he actually getting smarter, or had hanging around the Doctor been doing him some good? Because what the Doctor had said actually made sense to him. Except for one thing. "What was all that business about the whooshing?"

The Doctor began circling around the angel. He patted it on the wing. "I saw this lovely lady here fade out, flicker a few times on the tape, right after Martha disappeared, and it reminded me of something. A couple of weeks ago, Martha and I went to this planet where... well, let's just say, these animals, if they eat something tainted, they have to regurgitate it because they cannot digest it."

"I see," Billy said. "Wait. No I don't."

He stopped circling the angel and faced Billy. Emphatically, he explained, "Well, I suspected that Martha was tainted by the past, and that's what was causing the angel to weaken, but at first it seemed barmy – I mean, what kind of stone gets weakened by something so simple? But then again, what kind of stone can move at all?"

"I'm with you there."

"But, as I said, I suspected. And suspecting is a far-cry from knowing, you know? So that's why I asked about the sound the angel made when it zapped you. It usually makes a pop, the sound of temporal power being exerted at its fullest and most brutal. But, I wondered if the angels would lose temporal power if their diet of futures was contaminated – and as it turned out, the answer was yes. When the angel whooshed you, it had recently popped us. We were tainted with the past – especially me! Therefore, when it got to you, it was strong enough to move, but still not strong enough to pop. So it whooshed. Its temporal power was not in top form, so you even heard it 'powering down', like you said."

He circled around that one angel several more times while Billy attempted to process that information, and kept the other angels at bay. Then, the Doctor began to push on the stone surface.

"What are you doing?" asked Billy.

"I'm going to bring her aboard," the Doctor said. "Now, I really need you to keep your eyes on those three, Billy, because now they think I'm kidnapping their friend. Also, if they got hold of the TARDIS, well... you saw that they followed it across town in 2007 when the police picked it up. They could end the world if they got hold of this thing, so keep them away, understand?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

The Doctor pressed his back against the stone angel and pushed with his legs. It scraped across the ground harshly, displacing the dust and exposing the moist clay underneath. When it reached the TARDIS' door, the Doctor turned it around, opened the other door and went inside the vessel. He tipped it backwards and began pulling it across the metal floor and up the ramp by the wings. Billy stood still and stoic outside, watching the three pursuing angels. The Doctor assured him that he would not leave him here, then he shut the TARDIS doors, and was left in the console room with the lonely assassin who had taken Martha from him.

He wasn't sure if the Weeping Angels could feel fear, but he figured if they could, now would be a good time. Not that he had any plans to do them harm – he just wanted his companion back. But he didn't mind making this one shake in its metaphorical shoes, just for a bit.

He looked at the statue as he worked. He didn't think it could move again for a few days, even if no-one could see it, but he didn't want to take the chance, not here inside the TARDIS.

He smirked at it, groping around on the console, only slightly handicapped by not being able to look directly at the controls. "You're choking on her, aren't you? She's giving you a right nasty tummy ache. Well, do you know what I have to say about that, my friend? Ha!"

The TARDIS console powered up, and let out a hum. A beam of light came from one of the controls and shined on the angel.

"Thank you, Shakespeare!" he cried out. "Thank you Manhattan! Thank you, Family of Blood!" He watched the light intently, listened to the hum as its pitch mounted little by little. Soon, it was a screech.

And then the room was filled, his head was echoing, with the TARDIS' otherworldly cry morphing into Martha's final scream.

"DOCTOR!" he heard, precisely the same as yesterday. Not just the same voice, not just an echo of that moment, but it was the same scream. The moment wasn't over. Martha's moment of disappearance had been suspended somehow, incomplete for the past 18 hours.

And with the whoosh that Billy had described, a ray of light, brighter even than the light coming from the TARDIS, came forth from the angel's finger. It was like a spout, and it grew in intensity and size until a sudden surge of energy pushed out the form of Martha Jones. She was still wearing the purple dress, and she was still screaming.

She screamed for another half-second, and then finished. Because she had been running, she seemed to fall foward against the console, and before she could bounce back, the Doctor caught her.

She took a moment to get her bearings, and then seemed to come to all at once. She looked around, then seemed to become aware that someone was holding her. She looked up at the Doctor. "Hi," she said, a bit surprised to see him.

"Hi," he said back, his brows raised, eyes brimming with tears. "All right, eh?"

"Erm, yeah," she said, confused. "How did I get in here?"

He pulled her close, and the tears fell. "The TARDIS saved you." He knew he must be smothering her with emotion, but he couldn't stop. "Martha... Martha... I... I can't believe I almost lost you... I'll never leave you alone again. I would have been so lost without you, Martha..."

She hugged him back, but was confused. She almost chuckled. "Doctor, what are you on about? And what is that doing in here?" She was referring to the one stone angel sitting inexplicably in the console room.

"We needed it to get you back," he told her, still holding tight. He smelled her hair, felt the soft crocheted mesh of her dress, the gentle curve of her hip underneath. He relished the smallness of her body within his long arms, the way her head fit perfectly against him, right under his chin. At last, he pulled away. He ran his hands over her the sides of her face, and felt her soft cheek and the smoothness of her hair. He took her by the shoulders, looked her squarely in the eye, and said, "I love you. So much. So much. Desperately."

Her eyes betrayed worry then, but she was moved. The Doctor's raw, but unexplained emotion was infectious and bringing her confusedly into her own emotional daze. When she thought she would break from the sheer intensity, he finally pulled her tight for a kiss, and their lips interlocked thirstily. Their arms encircled each other and they just enjoyed a quiet, beautiful moment as lovers once more.

The weakened angel stood and watched. It was still too feeble to move.

Suddenly, the Doctor pulled away. "Blimey!" He ran down the ramp and threw open the door. "Billy, get in here!"

Billy came through the door, and the Doctor dashed back to the console. Utterly shocked to see Martha, Billy nearly knocked her off her feet with an excited hug as the TARDIS' gears ground up and left all four angels behind. Martha hadn't been aware that it could do that, but the Doctor flippantly replied that the TARDIS could do almost anything, and he winked.

When the TARDIS came to a stop, Billy, who had spent last night with the grieving Doctor, said, "I'll let myself out. Just promise you will come and say goodbye before you leave for good, okay?"

Dimly, the Doctor had some thought that Billy was quite a sensitive fellow, but he and Martha were basically too busy gazing at each other across the lights to acknowledge him properly. So they both nodded and said a distracted goodbye.

When Billy was gone, Martha asked, "Are you going to tell me why you're insane?"

"Afterwards."

And before she could take another breath, she was off her feet, in his arms and being carried to bed.