Title: Armageddon

Rating: T

Warnings: Major spoilers for "Utopia", "The Sound of Drums" and "Last of the Time Lords"; violence; mild language

A/N: First, as always, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and thanks to those who added this to their alerts and favorites! Your support means a lot to me and I love you guys! Thanks!

Second, I'm sorry for the wait, once more. These chapters are harder and harder to write – or, well, getting longer by the chapter, lol. But I'm really enjoying myself writing this one, gotta say. Sorry for making you wait a couple of weeks for new chapters. That's life right now *sigh*

Anyway, I appreciate your reviews and insight and comments! Thanks and please keep them coming!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Five

As soon as his brother and Miss Jones left, Mycroft sank into the seat behind his desk once more, taking a deep breath and allowing his cool façade to crumble just a little bit. His hand shook ever so slightly, but he reached for the landline and glanced down at the list he'd made before his brother had shown up. He'd been planning to reconnect with contacts to find out more about Miss Jones' mystery guest, but now he knew that whole story and had a slightly different call to make.

To the head of Scientific Research in UNIT. One Kate Lethbridge-Stewart.

Every number except her personal contact number was, at this point, null-and-void, but Mycroft wasn't without a few tricks up his sleeve and he knew that not all UNIT employees were so keen on Archangel, Kate being one of them.

"Can't say I'm not surprised to hear from you again, Mycroft," she answered on the first ring, "Been a hell of day, hasn't it?"

Mycroft could hear some emotion clouding her voice and he frowned a bit. Emotion and sentiment had never been his area of expertise and he certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of a woman's grief. He'd worked rather closely with UNIT, and Kate in particular, but considered none of them friends.

"It certainly has," he said, "I've just had a rather… enlightening chat with Miss Martha Jones."

"You're joking," Kate sounded surprised, "She's still alive?"

"Still alive and with a very interesting story to tell. I'm sure your father told you about the Doctor even when you were young, yes?"

"…Yes, he did. Quite often in fact."

"Miss Jones appears to be one of his companions. According to her, that face on the news yesterday was the Doctor's."

Kate took in a surprised breath, "The Doctor's here? On Earth?"

"On the Valiant, I'm afraid," Mycroft spoke carefully now, "I don't know how much your father might have told you, but I'm sure you've read the files UNIT has on him and another Time Lord like him… Called him The Master?"

"…Oh God, you're not saying that the Master has something to do with… the Toclafane?"

"Unfortunately, I am. I haven't been privy to those particular files, they're quite old, but I thought you might have been. According to Miss Jones, Harold Saxon is the Master,"

"…Mycroft… If that's true we've got more than just the Toclafane to worry about. If Saxon's the Master and he's got the Doctor –"

"Miss Jones has a plan," Mycroft cut her off, "Or, rather, the Doctor does. It is essential, however, that the Master doesn't know the plan. If the Master is anywhere near as intelligent as the Doctor, then we both know he'll know there's a plan. Our only hope is to distract him."

"Distract him with…?"

Mycroft smiled a bit, "The Doctor's plan conveniently does not end with the Master's death. I'm certain, however, that someone like him will expect Miss Jones and the people of this planet to want his hearts ripped out. He'll be looking for a plan to assassinate him and we can give him that."

"You mean lay a false trail? Mycroft Holmes, I do think I like the way you think,"

Mycroft smiled, "I thought you might," he said, "Unfortunately for both of us, our Mr. Saxon will undoubtedly want people of our ilk out of the way so you'll have to move quickly. Jones will be in Cardiff, though I'm not sure how long. I'm sure you know about Torchwood… Meet her there."

"I'll do my best…" Kate hesitated, "But… Mycroft, what about yourself? You should get into hiding, go somewhere deep. Perhaps what's left of UNIT could –"

"I'm afraid that we're already a bit late on that," Mycroft glanced up, hearing something shattering downstairs, "I doubt very seriously if I have any time left at all."

"Are you –"

"Get to Cardiff as quickly as possible." Mycroft cut her off, hanging up and closing his eyes. He hadn't expected to have much time at all and he hadn't expected to be taken prisoner either. No, the Master would certainly want him cleanly out of the way. He could hear the light humming of the Toclafane as they made their way upstairs and he reached into the locked drawer of his desk, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a shining sliver lighter.

He slipped the cigarette between his lips and took a long drag off of it, an eerie calm settling over him before the door to the office was slashed to bits by a set of flashing, rotating blades.

~/.\~

The doctor leaned over Rigsby, shining a small penlight into his eyes and gently pushing against his temple. He hissed and glanced over at Grace, who stood a few feet to the side with her arms crossed over her chest, watching them. The sight of her still there made him smile a bit.

"Well," the doctor straightened up and eyed him head to toe, "You don't appear to have any fractures or broken bones. Lucky, considering a bar practically fell on you, Agent Rigsby. But you do have a mild concussion and I'm going to have to stitch that gash in your head."

"Stitches? No," Rigsby shook his head, "I'll be fine. It's just a scratch."

"It's a gash," the woman insisted, "And leaving it untended is a bad idea. It won't hurt much, I'm very good."

"Sure, but my team –"

"Wayne," Grace walked over and raised a brow, shaking her head, "If she says you need stitches you need stitches." She turned to face the doctor, "I'm sorry Doctor…?"

"Holloway," the woman smiled a bit, "Grace Holloway."

Rigsby made a small snort and Grace turned to frown at him, "What?"

"You're both named Grace," he said, raising a brow, "Kinda funny."

Grace sighed and turned back to the doctor, "Grace Van Pelt," she said, holding out her hand.

Dr. Holloway smiled, "I see," she said, "Are you and Agent Rigsby… together?"

"What?" Grace frowned, "No, no! We just met, I'm cop with Sac PD," she explained, "Only known Wayne for a few hours, but he's apparently stubborn."

Dr. Holloway nodded, "Ah," she said, "Wouldn't be the first stubborn agent I've met. But you really do need stitches, Agent Rigsby –"

"I'm fine, just give me a Band-Aid and –"

Grace cleared her throat and leveled him with an annoyed look. Rigsby sighed and frowned, almost rolling his eyes before finally nodding, "Fine, fine, alright. Stitches. Joy."

The redheaded cop smile and the doctor nodded her thanks. As she had begun stitching the gash up, Rigsby grunting every now and then and Grace hovering around with watchful eyes, a young agent can through the entrance with a small megaphone in hand.

"We've got fifteen minutes 'til Saxon's address," he said, "Fifteen minutes."

~/.\~

Martha and Sherlock materialized with a slight jolt and Martha winced, head pounding. She was certain the numerous teleportations, so close together, couldn't be good for her health. Glancing around, she immediately recognized the Millennium Centre a few yards away and smiled a bit ruefully.

"Back where we began," she said, shaking her head.

"Sorry?" Sherlock raised a brow and Martha blinked, realizing he hadn't been there with her, the Doctor and Reid when they'd landed. She'd spent what already felt like a lifetime with Sherlock Holmes; it was hard to remember he hadn't been a part of this from the beginning.

"This is where we landed," she explained, "Right before the TARDIS decided to blast us to the end of the Universe."

"Ah," Sherlock nodded and said nothing else, turning calculating, cold eyes on the devastated city. There were already people gathering bodies and clearing them away, sections roped off with tape or rope or whatever was available to mark off areas for medical help and information – as if there really was anything anyone could tell them that would make this better.

Watching the scene, Martha realized that, while this wasn't going to be easy, it wasn't going to be as difficult as it could have been. The Human race was resilient and she was certain they would fight back to the last breath. She found herself thinking that the Master had probably underestimated them.

"Alright, where are we going?" she asked, "You said you didn't know exactly where Torchwood was located so how do you plan to –"

"This way," Sherlock cut her off, striding quickly down the street. She had to run a bit to keep up and grimaced as she nearly tripped over bodies. Sherlock didn't seem to pay them any mind and the young woman sighed, grabbing his arm.

"Sherlock!" she snapped, "Slow down and explain. I can't read your mind, you know."

Sherlock huffed a sigh, "I said I don't know where their base is," he explained, "But I do know who works there and that young woman," he nodded his head toward a woman a few yards ahead of them, carrying a laptop under one arm and talking into a radio held in her other hand, "Is Toshiko Sato. One of their agents."

Martha frowned, "Hold on, you know who works there and you know at least a bit about their technology as well. How? Jack said Torchwood was supposed to be covert and I've never heard of them."

"Of course you haven't," Sherlock muttered, "You weren't looking, were you?"

Martha huffed, crossing her arms, "How is it you know all of this?"

"I'm observant,"

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it,"

"No it isn't," Martha shook her head, "You just don't want to tell me."

"Miss Jones do you want my help or not?"

"Fine," Martha sighed, "Lead the way, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock gave her one more cold look before turning and briskly catching up to Tosh, who was now speaking into the radio in her hand, standing outside of the water tower near, a faint frown on her face. She didn't see Martha and Sherlock approach and Sherlock's voice startled her into nearly dropping the laptop she was carrying.

"Miss Sato, isn't it?"

Tosh turned wide eyes to Sherlock and Martha and then, after a moment to collect herself, she studied them both carefully. "Who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock answered, "This is Martha Jones. We need to speak to you about what's happened recently with Mr. Saxon and his… Toclafane."

"His what?" Tosh frowned, looking confused. Sherlock started to say something and Martha cut him off, sending him an annoyed look.

"Look, I'm sure you probably don't trust strangers, but we don't exactly have time to get to know one another right now. I'm a friend of Jack Harkness," she explained, "And –"

"Jack!" Tosh's confusion gave way to worry and anxiety. "Do you know where Jack is? We haven't seen him in months."

"… Jack… Jack's on the Valiant," Martha explained slowly, "He in trouble and without your help… everyone else is too."

~/.\~

"Have we heard from anyone else?" Gibbs asked, glancing down at Abby as they headed to the elevators with Tony and Ducky behind them.

Abby shook her head and glanced up at him, "Not since Ziva came in," she said quietly.

"What about everyone else? Who have we lost?"

"Palmer," Tony spoke up this time, "Guess he tried to run for cover here, but he didn't make it. Someone found his body not far from here… We're still trying to get a working landline to call out, but I haven't heard from anybody."

"Director Shepard wants to send out search parties," Abby told them, "Once the broadcast is done. McGee's worried about his sister, she hasn't called."

"No one has," Tony looked a bit anxious then, frowning.

"Gibbs!" Jenny spotted them as they stepped out of the elevator, "Hurry up, he's already started…"

The four of them hurriedly followed the director to the bullpen where the agents, some bloody and wounded, were gathered around the televisions in silence. Jenny waved them over and Gibbs moved to stand next to her as they gazed up at the grinning, gloating face of Harold Saxon.

Instinctively, Gibbs' fists clenched, longing to wrap around his throat and snap his neck. Rage colored his vision as he listened to the man's words, mocking them about the death of President Winters and assuring them that they had absolutely no hope of resisting.

Saxon let out a chuckle as the Toclafane floated behind him, lighting winking at him, "Now there may be some of you – in fact I'd wager most of you, given the way you Americans seem to thrive on violence and vengeance – that will think you can just… kill me. Kill me and all your problems go away," his eyes sparkled, "But that'd prove a bit difficult, you see, because, heh, I'm not who you think I am. My name isn't Harold Saxon. I'm not even human."

His smile suddenly fell and his face went hard, "I'm far more to you lot of whimpering, blundering apes."

Whispers began to ripple through the crowd of agents as Gibbs scowled at the screen and the man kept talking.

"You can't kill me," he said, "You couldn't even begin to know how. I am your Lord and Master now and, well," he grinned brightly, "There's nothing you insects can really do to change that…"

His speech went on, explaining the futility of fighting back, explaining the punishment for trying and his willingness to kill families and children if he had to. Most of the agents tried to pay attention, but they were still hung up on Saxon's "not human" revelation. Ducky, in particular, seemed a bit uneasy about it, frowning at the television with scrutinous eyes.

And then came the list, the dauntingly long list of people Saxon wanted out of the way. Some of them made sense from a logical view, at least to Gibbs. Political leaders, religious leaders, powerful government heads. Jenny was on that list and as soon as Saxon said her name that white hot rage of defiance was back. As far as Gibbs was concerned, that bastard wasn't taking anyone else. There were several UNIT employees on that list, which wasn't surprising.

If Saxon was telling the truth about not being human, UNIT would probably be the most qualified to take him out. But then there were others, like a young medical student who'd apparently caused a bit of trouble in London, like a married couple who had no government or political ties that Gibbs could think of, like a doctor living in California and even a young woman from London who couldn't have been thirty years old yet.

Some of the names on the list just didn't seem to make any sense. Maybe they were part of something bigger that Gibbs didn't understand, but Ducky was looking more and more uneasy as the broadcast went on and once it finished, he looked practically ill.

Jenny, standing stone stiff and pale, took direction once more, organizing teams of agents to go out looking for their family and other missing agents while others worked on getting the landlines back in order. Tony went with a group of searchers while Abby joined McGee in working around Archangel. Jenny looked a bit terrified, but holding it together.

"We've got to get you out of here," Gibbs said, "If that bastard's coming after you, you need to get to a safe house as soon as possible."

"I've got a duty here Jethro," Jenny said, "I'm not leaving. Not yet anyway. I'll leave as soon as we find out how much damage was done. You can figure out where they go from there…"

"We may have a bigger problem," Ducky spoke suddenly, frowning.

"Bigger how?"

"I don't think Saxon was lying when he said he wasn't human," Ducky said, "Do you remember when I told you that I once worked for UNIT as one of their medical officers?"

"Yeah, Duck, I remember," Gibbs nodded. He hated to admit that he rarely paid Ducky's rambling stories too much attention, usually letting the doctor prattle on and then forgetting what he'd said unless it was somehow pertinent to the case they were working. But he did remember Ducky saying he'd worked with UNIT.

"Back in those days UNIT was headed by a man called the Brigadier. I was still quite young, you know, but there was a man there, worked very closely with the Brigadier, he was called the Doctor. I only met him a few times, but the man was brilliant and… not human."

Gibbs raised a brow and frowned as Ducky sighed, "He was an alien, called himself a Time Lord. And there were others like him, other Time Lords. One of them called himself the Master."

"You're not telling me you think Saxon's this Master guy?"

Ducky nodded grimly, "I'm afraid so Gibbs. It's been a long time, I know, but Time Lords don't age the same way we do… And they're not at all easy to kill. They can change their faces… Similar to the way we say cats have nine lives, Time Lords really do. Of course, not nine, actually, but you can't kill them. When they die, they just get a new body."

Gibbs frowned, "They what?"

"They get a new body Gibbs, the Doctor called it Regeneration. I haven't got a clue how it works, but Saxon says he isn't human and I know some of those names… People who were close to the Doctor…"

"Damn it," Gibbs swore, shaking his head. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive,"

"There's got to be a way to kill him, Ducky. He can't be immortal…"

Ducky hesitated, "I'm sure there must be, Jethro, but it wouldn't be easy."

"Difficult doesn't mean impossible,"

~/.\~

"What does he mean he's not human?" Rigsby frowned, one hand still probing at the bandage on his head. They were gathered in the bullpen on the third floor, other agents gathered on other floors around whatever televisions they had working. Grace and Dr. Holloway were standing to one side of him while Lisbon and Jane were on the other. Minelli was watching from the front of the ground, an anxious look his face.

"Shh," Lisbon shushed him, her eyes glued to screen, knuckles white as her hands gripped at nothing. She couldn't quite explain the feeling she was having right now, some strange and awful combination of pain, anger and hate flaring up inside of her stomach, trying to beat its way out of her throat. She felt the overwhelming urge to shoot something and that actually scared her a little. She hadn't been this angry in a very long time.

For the most part, the CBI was silent as they watched – due in part because there weren't that many agents to create noise. They had lost at least a third of their agents by Minelli estimate and there were still some missing out there.

Lisbon had thought she'd been hit the hardest by Rigsby's news of Cho's death until she'd gotten word of Agent Sam Bosco's death as well. Bosco was one of Lisbon's oldest friends in the CBI and her former partner when she'd just been starting out. His death hit her harder than she'd expected it to. Minelli still hadn't been able to contact the AG and most of them assumed he had been killed. Right now, all that mattered to any of them was finding out if their families were still alive and, if they were, keeping them that way.

She still hadn't been able to get through to her brothers or even her brother Tommy's wife or daughter. She didn't want to think about what that meant, instead focusing on keeping her team alive.

As Saxon, or, apparently, The Master as he had decided to call himself, began the long list of people he wanted, Lisbon felt her jaw tighten at Minelli's name and she saw the older man pale a bit. This was too much, too fast and her head was spinning.

On Rigsby's other side, one of the doctors gasped when the name Grace Holloway came up and her photo flashed on the screen. Lisbon frowned and looked toward the woman, eyeing her up and down. There didn't seem to be anything about her that stood out too much and she wasn't, as far as Lisbon knew, anyone involved with important politics or government. Maybe she had family that was?

Judging by the look on the doctor's face, her name had been as much a shock to her as it was to Lisbon.

As the broadcast ended, commotion broke out amongst the agents and Minelli had to shout to calm them down before directing them to use the landlines if they hadn't already to check on family and friends. They were sending search parties out and other agents broke into groups to take care of the bodies.

Dr. Holloway moved numbly back to her station on the medical floor, pale and shaken. Lisbon watched her go and frowned, "Rigsby… van Pelt, right?" she glanced at the redhead curiously, "You two come with me. There are bodies downstairs still and they're gonna need help taking care of them…"

Rigsby frowned, "Sure boss," he nodded, "But… what about your family?"

Lisbon froze for a second and then scowled, "What about them?"

"Have you -?"

"I'll call later. Right now let's just focus on taking care of things here, alright?"

~/.\~

It didn't take the FBI too long to begin separating into groups. Some were going on to search the homes of missing agents; some were carrying the bodies out of the lobby and doing their best to find places to bury them. The technical staff was working on cracking Archangel, but so far they were still at a dead end.

There were agents at every available landline phone connecting calling family, trying establish who was alive and who wasn't. There had never been a disaster to this scale in the entire history of the planet and it took everything in them not to panic. Some agents were just staring at nothing with tears in their eyes, not knowing what to do because they'd lost everything and everyone.

Hotch couldn't help but empathize with them. Morgan was leaning against the wall with a phone pressed his ear, praying that his mother would answer while Prentiss had volunteered to go out with the search parties to find out what had become of Gideon. Hotch insisted that Reid not go with her. Despite the fact that Prentiss was an extremely likely target, her name hadn't been mentioned in the initial list, unlike Reid's had.

The younger agent hadn't been happy about being next to useless, but he had phoned his mother's sanitarium in Vegas to try and find out whether or not she was alive. Hotch had yet to get to a phone, just watching what was left of the team and knowing that Reid and Prentiss couldn't stay here longer and it would be better for them all if they got people like Garcia out before "the Master" realized their capabilities.

"Hotch," Morgan called him over, nodding his head toward the phone and the Unit Chief took it, frowning at Morgan's expression. It was entirely unreadable.

"Did you –"

"Mom's gone," Derek's voice cracked and he looked away, "So is Sara. Desi… Desi's alive, but she can't get out of Chicago."

Hotch started to say "I'm sorry," but Morgan had already walked away and was heading to where Reid had just hung up the phone he was on. Hotch noticed Reid's hands shaking and the tears in the young man's eyes and gripped the receiver in his own hand tighter. Damn it, how many more people were going to die because of this?

He hesitated to call Sean and instead found himself trying to reach Jessica first. It took him several tries, but some part of him just wouldn't give up on the idea that if Hailey had gone, at least Jessica had to be alive. When he finally got an answer it wasn't Jessica, but the man on the other end told him that Jessica Brooks was indeed alive, but injured badly. Hotch would have rather passed on the news of Hailey's death personally, but at least Jessica was alive.

Sean hadn't been so lucky. After five tries and no response, Hotch got an answer at the small restaurant his brother ran in New York and was informed by one of the employees that they'd found Sean Hotchner's body in the parking lot.

After that, Hotch just held the phone for several minutes before finally making the call he'd been alternately dreading and hoping to make…

And maybe, just maybe, there was a God who answered prayers because the voice at the other end felt like a miracle to Hotch's ears and his own voice cracked with emotions when he heard it.

"Dave…?"

"Who's this?"

"Aaron Hotchner,"

"Hotch?" there was a half-surprised sounding laugh from the older man before he sobered a bit, "Didn't expect to get a call from you…"

"I know," he said, "But we could use your help here, Rossi," he said, "It's a lot to ask but… I need you right now."

~/.\~

By the time Sam finally went downstairs, the old house was quiet again. Sam had scrubbed the tears from his eyes and splashed water on his face. Not only had he and Dean been going for almost twenty-four straight hours, but grief was exhausting in itself. Looking at his face in the dirty mirror above the sink, he could already see its toll on him.

He and Dean hadn't stopped to wash up before leaving the Roadhouse and his clothes and hands were still stained with dirt from their last job. There were still splotches of dirt of his face and he swiped at them with a wet rag, deciding to shower later.

He found his brother downstairs in the kitchen, sitting at the old table with a beer in his hand, staring at nothing in particular. The place was a wreck, but Sam wasn't sure how much was Dean's doing and how much had been caused by the Toclafane attack.

He hesitated before approaching Dean. He'd gotten himself punched in the face more than once trying to get through Dean's grief, so he was more cautious this time as he sat down at the table.

"…Dean?"

Dean grunted and took another swig of his beer, but didn't say anything.

Sam sighed, "Dean, we, uh… we should…" he wasn't sure how to say it, but Dean surprised him, suddenly standing and tossing the empty bottle into the trash.

"We should move the body," he said, "Can't leave 'im up there like that. Then we should head into town, see if anyone's alive. Try to get a call in to Jo and Ellen, let them know what happened, find out if Ash learned anything new…"

"…Yeah," Sam frowned, not getting up as Dean headed toward the stairs again.

"You comin' or am I gonna have to bury him myself?" Dean's voice was hard and Sam shook his head, standing.

"No, uh, Dean are you sure you're –"

"Don't, Sam," Dean cut him off, eyes going dark for a second, "Don't."

Sam knew that tone and nodded heavily, "Alright, fine, but Dean, you gotta promise me something…"

"What?"

Sam studied him for a long moment and looked him in the eye, "Promise me you aren't gonna pretend to be fine this time. In case you forgot, that didn't work out so well for us and I don't think drinking 'til you punch something is exactly healthy."

"Because you'd know all about the healthy methods of grief, huh, Sammy?"

"Dean…"

"Fine," Dean cut him off, scowling, "Alright? Fine. But let's not talk about this now. Let's just… focus on what we gotta do and we can deal with… this… later."

~/.\~

The desert sun was unrelenting as the two soldiers made their way to the village. There were bodies slumped inside doorways and strewn across the streets, thick red blood mingling with the desert sand. John spotted a few lizards curiously climbing over bodies. The entire place was dead silent and John was beginning to think that there hadn't been a single survivor here at all when they heard faint voices.

Jake hefted his gun toward the sound, only flinching a bit at the weight on his injured hand. They were, after all, still in enemy territory – for all they knew those metal monsters had been some kind of weapon that had gone very wrong.

"Shh," Jake hissed, "Hear that?"

John nodded, eyes slowly turning toward the voices. He could just make out the shape of two people walking slowly. They were close enough to hear their words, but they could hear the low tremble of the voices. One was a man and the other a woman, and John was almost certain he could hear a faint Welsh accent.

They were easing toward the figures when suddenly a male voice – speaking English with a very distinct accent – called out.

"Oi! You two!"

They froze and waited as the two strangers half jogged to reach them. They looked extremely out of place in the middle of this desert village of the dead. Definitely not soldiers, but both armed. The woman was out of breath a bit, but straightened her posture immediately at the sight of them.

"Soldiers," she said, eyeing them up and down. Her accent was definitely Welsh, John was sure of it. She glanced over at her companion, a shorter man who looked slightly annoyed and tired, but who was also eyeing them as if they were the oddities here.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked.

"Owen," the woman glared for a moment and shook her head, turning to face the still silent soldiers. "Sorry, we've had a… very long day. I'm Gwen Cooper, this is Owen Harper. And, uh… well, you wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?"

Jake slowly lowered his gun and John did the same, eyeing them curiously, "You're in the middle of the Afghan desert," he said slowly.

"Afghan desert?" Owen's eyes got a bit wider, "Bloody fantastic," he muttered, "So what did happen here? Last I checked the Army wasn't killing civilians…"

"Wish we knew," John answered, "We were attacked, our entire unit's gone. There were these metal sphere things with razor blades…"

"Metal spheres?" Gwen raised a brow, "Some kind of weapon?"

"That's about as much as we can guess," Jake admitted, "Damn things were bullet proof though."

"And they talked," John added.

"Talked?" Owen frowned, "What do you mean they talked?"

"Didn't say a whole lot," Jake said, "But we could hear 'em. Real high pitched voice, like a kid's. One of them said something about escaping…" he glanced at John for confirmation and the man nodded.

"Running away from the dark,"

"And there are no other survivors?" Gwen glanced around the village, getting a bit sick. The bodies had been lying out in the sun for a few hours now and they were starting to bloat and the smell wasn't pleasant in the least.

"None that we've found yet," John shook his head, "Think a few of our guys took off, but we can't get a line through to anyone so we don't know if they're alive of not."

Gwen and Owen exchanged a long look. "Think this has something to do with Saxon and our Cyber-friend?"

"Definitely," Gwen nodded, frowning thoughtfully. She turned back to John and Jake, "Well, men, looks like we're on our own for right now. Got any ideas?"

~/.\~

Martha looked around the cluttered Torchwood Hub in interest as Tosh fiddled with the laptop she had been carrying earlier. Ianto was standing by her side, staring at Martha and Sherlock with a bit of suspicion and unease. Martha couldn't blame the guy; two strangers just suddenly show up and say that they need help saving the world? Martha was certain if she hadn't mentioned Jack, she wouldn't have gotten in the door. What really sold Tosh, however, had been the mention of the Doctor.

Sherlock wasn't paying attention to Tosh, at least not apparently. He was gazing around the Hub with clinical eyes, taking in every single aspect of it and, presumably, cataloguing it all in the super computer that Martha had decided was his mind.

He hadn't said much before Martha wouldn't allow him to say anything if she thought he was about to say something rude. Purposeful or not, Martha had realized that Sherlock Holmes was a very cold person and after his remark about Torchwood not being competent enough without Jack leading them, she'd begun to cut him off ever chance possible.

Sherlock was not amused, but eventually learned to keep his thoughts to himself. For the most part anyway.

"Here it is," Tosh suddenly announced, turning the screen so that Martha and Sherlock could watch. It was Harold Saxon's address to the UK. He started off all smiles and mocking, and Martha was horrified to hear all the people that had already been killed. He'd even taken out the Royal family! And he was joking about it with a huge grin on his face, promising that there was more to come if the people of the planet didn't bow down to him.

Tosh watched with a wrinkled nose, "I can't believe I voted for him…"

Martha sighed, "Don't blame yourself," she said, "According to the Doctor, he used some kind of telepathic hypnosis with the Archangel network…"

"Good thing the Hub doesn't use Archangel," Tosh said, frowning at the screen, "Some of our communications are tied in to it, but we're pretty independent. Have to be, really."

"You said this Master character has Jack?" Ianto asked, glancing at Martha.

"Yeah," Martha sighed, "He's got Jack, the Doctor and my whole family…"

"And he likely already knows that there is a plan in motion to stop him," Sherlock said, "He isn't going to stop until he finds out what it is."

"I know," Martha sighed.

"Our advantage at the moment is that he believes Torchwood to be taken care of. The second he realizes that you and your teammates, wherever they are, are alive, we lose that advantage. We need to give him something to chase."

"Something to chase?" Ianto frowned, raising a brow.

"A false trail, make him think the plan is one thing and lead him on for as long as possible."

"Sounds good to me," Martha leaned against the desk, Saxon's voice still going in the background, reading off names. She heard a few familiar ones – her own and her brother's among them – but for the most part the list was entirely government and religious leaders.

"But how do we do it?" Tosh asked, "If the Master is as smart as you think, he won't be easy to fool."

"No, but –" Sherlock stopped, frowning as a hissing, cackling sound alerted them to an old radio that was set up on Tosh's cluttered computer desks. Only bits of words were making it through, but Tosh rushed to it and pulled the handset from the radio, fiddling with the dial for a moment before it came in clearer.

It was a woman's voice, speaking a series of numbers and letters that Tosh recognized as a UNIT code, followed by four names. "Gwen Cooper, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Ianto Jones. This UNIT employee 4391973, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. Torchwood Three, can you respond?"

Tosh's eyes were wide as glanced toward them, "This is Toshiko Sato," she said into the speaker, "And Ianto Jones."

"Thank God! Toshiko, is Martha Jones with you?"

Tosh glanced up at Martha and passed her the handheld speaker. Martha gripped it uncertainly in her hands and pressed the button, "This is Martha Jones,"

"Good, so you made it safely. Martha, my name is Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. You don't know me, but my father was a very close friend of the Doctor's and I'm told you've traveled with him."

"I have…"

"Martha…" Kate's voice cracked a bit in the speakers, "I've just spoken to Mycroft Holmes. I think I may be able to help you. Is the Torchwood Three base secure?"

"Yeah," Martha nodded, "It is for now. The Master thinks he's wiped out Torchwood."

"I'm on my way to Cardiff. It may take me a day, but wait for me there."

~/.\~

Sioux Falls was a veritable ghost town when Sam and Dean drove in. They'd given Bobby a proper Hunter's funeral, wrapping him in sheets and building the pyre out back of his house. Sam was hit with an unnerving sense of déjà vu while they watched the flames burn on the corpse of their old friend. He could still remember coming to Salvage Yard as a kid and Dean practically jumping up and down to help Uncle Bobby fix his cars while Sam poured over the giant, ancient tomes Bobby kept in his house.

They stood there over Bobby's burning body for what felt like a lifetime before the fire died out and they buried what was left of him. They took showers and cleaned up, Dean grabbing a beer before they headed into town.

Sam eyed the drink anxiously, but it was only the second Dean had had so far and he didn't say anything to him. The people in the town had been busy, Sam could tell that much. They were already burying the bodies of loved ones in the cemetery. There only seemed to be a handful of people left alive and most of them were in shock.

They parked the Impala near a sidewalk and climbed out, looking around for anyone. They'd never really spent much time in Sioux Falls. Every time they were there, they were at Bobby's and if anyone went into town it was Bobby or their father so they only knew of the town in passing through it.

"Hey," Dean suddenly grabbed Sam's shoulder and spun him around, "Sheriff over there," he nodded to the woman who was still in her uniform, "Let's go see what she knows…"

She was standing near the cemetery, hands on her hips, hair tugged back into a ponytail, watching while the residents of the town buried loved ones.

Dean cleared his throat, "Excuse us, Sheriff…?"

She spun around and frowned when she caught sight of the two of them, "Who are you?" she demanded, one hand instinctively traveling to her gun.

"Whoa, whoa," Dean held his hands up and shook his head, "Um, I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam. We're… we're Bobby's nephews…"

She paused and raised a brow, "I didn't know Bobby had any nephews,"

"Well, he, uh," Sam cleared his throat, stepping forward, "He was kinda private, I guess,"

She snorted a bit and shook her head, "So you boys came in to check on him?"

"Yeah," Sam's face fell a bit and the woman sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, holding out her hand, "Sheriff Jody Mills."

Sam took her hand, forcing a smile, "Lost a lot of people, I guess…"

"Yeah," she nodded, glancing back at the cemetery, "Don't think we have room for everyone, I just… I haven't been back to my house yet to get…" she choked a bit and Sam, noticing the ring on her finger nodded.

"Your husband…?"

"And my son," she said, voice cracking before she took a deep breath and shook her head. "But… these people need me so…"

Sam glanced over at Dean, "We could get your family for you," he said gently, "Take care of it, if you want…"

"No," she shook her head, "No, you don't have to do that."

"It's no trouble, really," Sam assured her, "We don't… don't really have anywhere else to go right now anyway."

Her smile was watery, but she shook her head again, "No, I'll get to it. I gotta do it myself. But, uh, you boys are welcome to stick around and help if you want…"

"We might just do that," Sam said, "Um, are your payphones working?"

"Yeah, go around the corner, the one on the left is still working."

"Thanks…"

As they walked away, Dean frowned, "We're gonna stick around and help?"

"Come on, Dean, these people need help right now. Jo and Ellen can cover the Roadhouse for now. We can't just not help."

"The best way to help these people is to find the son of bitch responsible and rip his head off,"

"Dean…"

"Fine," Dean grunted, "Fine. We'll stay. But only for a couple of days, got it?"

~/.\~

Lucy and the guards led them into the large meeting room where it had all started. Everyone else on board had either been killed or was now forcibly in the Master's employment. The Master was standing in the middle of the elevated stage, twirling his laser screwdriver and grinning widely as they were herded in.

"Ah, my lovely prisoners!" the Master jumped down from the stage and grabbed Lucy, kissing her a bit roughly before releasing her and grinning at them. Lucy looked a bit stunned – the most emotion Jack as seen her display so far – but quickly recovered her deadpan face and started at her husband with awe in her eyes.

The Master circled the Jones family with a predatory smile on his face as he came up to Tish. He traced a line down her face with the tip of his screwdriver and Francine angrily tugged her daughter backwards, "Get away from her!" she snapped, eyes blazing.

Some of the fire left her eyes when he turned to face her, a smile still twisting his lips as he eyed the woman up and down.

"You have got some spirit in you, Francine," he said, "I think I like that."

Francine did her best to look angry, but she was shaking with terror as she gripped Tish's hand and held her back, trying to block the Master's view of her as he turned his gaze back to the young woman.

"You know, I really just don't know what to do with you lot…" he sighed dramatically, "But I think I can come up with some inventive uses for you. And if you get boring, well, I guess that's that. …Take the parents back to the cells."

Francine and Clive didn't go as willingly this time, not even with the guns probing into their backs. Francine screamed curses and swears the entire time and Jack could still hear her screaming all the way down the hall, her voice growing fainter as they went deeper into the ship.

Grinning that feral grin, he turned to Lucy again, "Have them bring in the Doctor and his other pet," he said, dismissing her quickly. There were three guards in the room with them and Jack watched the Master closely as he circled Tish once more. He moved to stand in his way and two of the guards dragged him back, pinning his arms.

"Don't touch her," Jack hissed, glaring hatefully at the man. The Master eyed him for a second and then, without warning, shot Jack where he stood. He went limp in the guards' arms and Tish screamed, covering her mouth in horror as the guards released the now dead body.

"Now, as for this one…" he idly twirled the screwdriver, "Take her to the back rooms. I'll be there in a few hours. Lucy, be a dear and accompany her." He added the last part as Lucy re-entered the room with Reid and the Doctor.

Without question Lucy followed the guard that took Tish away. The Master watched them go with a grin before practically skipping back to the stage and sitting on its edge, "You can throw the Doctor on the floor next to the freak," he said, "I want Spencer up here with me."

The guard holding the Doctor released him and the Doctor stumbled a bit and kneeled back Jack's side, looking up at the Master with something that looked very much like hate in his eyes. The Master appeared unbothered as the other guard dragged Reid, who was digging his heels into the ground, toward him.

"No, not there," he shook his head when the guard started to place him on the stage. "On the ground. At my feet."

Reid gave the man a cold glare as he was shoved to the ground, his back against the stage. The Master's legs dangled a bit on either side of his head and he immediately felt his fingers in his hair and fought not to cringe at the way that made him want to throw up.

The Doctor eyed the scene with fear and anger, "Master, just let them go. This isn't about them,"

"Of course it is!" The Master grinned and shook his head, "This is entirely about them. Humans. I never understood why you loved them so much. They're stupid, reckless, hairless apes. Yet you seem to stare at them in awe. They're a waste of a species, Doctor, you know that. All I'm doing is putting them in their place."

"They aren't going to give up their planet, Master, not without a fight," the Doctor warned him.

"I know!" The Master grinned, "That's what makes this so much fun. The more they fight, the more they suffer. It's glorious, isn't it? Isn't it glorious?"

The Doctor glanced down at Jack as he gasped and grimaced, surging painfully back to life once more. The Master cocked his head to the side and smiled, "That will never get old," he said brightly. His eyes sparkled, "Think of all the things I can do to him, Doctor, and he'll never die! I can kill him over and over and over. And I will. I'll make you watch."

Suddenly he gripped Reid's hair tight and yanked, causing the agent to hiss in pain, "I'll rip them all to pieces, right in front of you and you won't be able to stop me. Unless you tell me what your plan is. I'm not an idiot, Doctor, I know you told Martha to do something. What. Did. You. Tell. Her?"

With each word he tugged a bit harder on Spencer's hair until tears were pricking at his eyes and the Doctor stared at him, guilt welling up inside of him.

"There isn't a plan," he insisted.

The Master sighed, "If that's the way you want to play this game…" he sounded almost regretful, the light in his eyes at the sounds of their screams and the Doctor's pleading said otherwise. Even down in the cells, Francine and Clive could hear the screams and Tish huddled anxiously in a room alone – except for Lucy Saxon – with her hands over her ears to block out the sounds as the echoed through the halls of the Valiant.

~/.\~

And that was how it all began, the worst day in Earth's history that gave way to even more bloodshed. Everyone lost someone, no one was safe. The death toll continued to rise.

Teresa Lisbon finally managed to get through to her brother's apartment, only to find out that her brothers and her niece were dead and Tommy's wife was the only survivor. Wayne Rigsby eventually found out that his father had been killed and couldn't find it in him to be too upset about that fact. In total, the CBI had been knocked down by over one third of their agents and the Attorney General's body was discovered twenty-four hours after the initial attack. Sam Bosco's entire team had been killed while on a raid that night and they all feared that Minelli wouldn't live much longer with his name on that list.

NCIS was hit even hard, missing nearly a half of their agents and damn lucky their director made it out of the initial attack alive. During their search parties they found the bodies of more and more agents. Agent Leon Vance's body was found in the parking garage, empty gun in his hand. Anthony DiNozzo Sr.'s death wasn't discovered for nearly two days because of poor communication. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs discovered his father's death several hours after Harold Saxon's initial broadcast and Timothy McGee received the call informing him of his sister, Sarah's, death by dawn the following morning.

There was never a fixed number of how hard UNIT was hit. Too many bodies were never recovered and too many agents went underground. The initial numbers held at nearly two thirds, but there is no solid answer.

The FBI took, by far, the smallest hit from the Toclafane attacks and still found themselves down by over a fourth of their agents. The departments melded together, getting the most vulnerable agents into Safe Houses as soon as possible. Once they'd taken care of the bodies in their lobby, they began helping the rest of Quantico. It was truly a nightmare to find places for all the bodies and in the end the only solution was mass graves.

Like the scenes out of a horror film, body after body was lowered into the pits, men, women and children alike being buried together while family members look on with tears. Hopelessness hung in the air over the entire globe, mingling with a bitter hate for the man who'd brought this tragedy on them.

And this was only the beginning. There were more tears, more pain and more loss to come in what would one day become known, to those who remembered it, the Year of Hell.

~/.\~

A/N: Frankly, I'm amazed that this chapter is shorter than last chapter. And I really don't know what to say about it… I hope you guys enjoyed it though!

Oh, and for those of you who might not know, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart is the daughter of the Brigadier from the classic era Doctor Who. While I haven't seen any episodes with the Brigadier I know OF him because of friends who have. Originally, the UNIT contact was going to be the UNIT leader from "The Sontaran Stratagem", but after Kate's introduction in "The Power of Three" Saturday, I couldn't resist including her, it was just too perfect.

As for Grace Holloway, she is the doctor who is the "companion" from the Doctor Who movie (with the 8th Doctor) and I didn't intend to include her, but after a suggestion from KMW1968 I decided to. (I do love her character and she was in San Francisco at the time; I moved her to Sacramento because it's been about 10 years since she met the Doctor for her. A lot changes).

I'd also like to thank KMW1968 for the idea of having the Master go after former companions and friends of the Doctor (those such as Grace Holloway. There are others, which you will see soon).

Also, I originally said that this was set around the time Dean tells Sam about his "destiny". It's going to have to be before that, I realized. If it was around that time, Gordon would have tried to shoot Sam on the spot, so at this point, for SPN, it's while Dean's still keeping that secret from Sam. Just a quick FYI.

Also… glad to finally sneak some Rossi in there. He will come up in a bigger part in the next chapter. And I have a question for any Supernatural fans…: Henricksen. Include him or not? He was in the FBI and I'm planning to have Fornell (NCIS) show up soon, possibly with Henricksen. I dunno though.

Anyways. Sorry for the long A/N. And the wait. This chapter was murder to write. Hope you enjoyed! Please review!