Title: Armageddon

Rating: T

Warnings: Major spoilers for "Utopia", "The Sound of Drums" and "Last of the Time Lords"; violence; mild language; allusions to rape (but I promise nothing explicit or graphic)

A/N: So… late again. I should really be punished for this, huh? If it makes any difference, it was partly due to my finals and partly due to the fact that I was suffering from the fact that Supernatural won't be back 'til January and how can they do that to me?

Anywho… New characters this chapter! Awesomeness. I'd like to give thanks to KMW1968 for suggesting them. (In case you're curious, they're characters from Psych, though, again you don't need to have seen Psych) And I'd like to give KMW198 thanks and credit for the flashback scene and a lot of what happens when Ducky's telling his story, she gave me the idea and I loved it – thanks!

Now, onward to the chapter!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Nine

Martha was sitting up in the common area, staring anxiously out the window. It was after midnight and she could see the moon high in the sky. The cloud cover was sparse and the stars were shining. She sighed, thinking back to her adventures with the Doctor, travelling among the stars, running for her life. That all seemed like such a long time ago, barely a memory anymore.

"Still waiting then?" Donna came up behind her, startling the younger woman.

"Yeah," Martha glanced back at Donna and turned her attention back to the window, "I hope he's alright…"

"Ah, I'm sure he's fine," Donna said, "Not easy to sneak around the streets of London these days, though. He's probably just being careful."

Martha smiled, nodding, "Suppose you're right. Guess I might be a bit antsy. I've been in the UK too long now, I really should be moving on." She fiddled with the Vortex Manipulator on her wrist, "Considering using this to get me into France, but I really don't want to."

"That's the travel thing-a-bob," Donna said, reaching out to touch the leather band. Martha seldom wore it around her wrist, often opting to carry it in her bag instead. The band felt constricting and heavy and she didn't care for it.

"Yes," Martha said, "I haven't used it since I went to Cardiff, but I need to get out of London quickly… I just dunno if it'd be a good idea. Besides, I haven't got a clue how to make it take me anywhere besides typing in an address and most of the places I know are here in England."

"Maybe I can help," Donna suggested, "I did a bit of travelling after I met the Doctor, might have been somewhere close to where you're planning to go next."

Martha nodded, "Thanks," she said, "That would certainly be a help. I don't think I should stay in London any longer than necessary." She glanced back at the window, "I just hope I can get it all done in time."

Donna put an arm around her shoulder, "Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll figure it out. If the Doctor says you can do it, you can."

For the next hour, the two women talked about Martha's route around the world. Once she left the UK she planned to go through the rest of Europe first and Donna said she could certainly help. She'd been to Portugal, Spain and France during her travels, along with Egypt as well. She remembered – or at least she hoped she remembered – the address of a hotel in Lisbon, Portugal where she'd stayed and Martha decided to risk it; she'd been in London long enough and it was definitely time to move on.

They were both keeping watch out the window, hoping to spot Martha's contact at any moment. Martha had hoped that Sherlock would've been able to come in person; she hadn't seen him in a while and was surprised to find that she missed having him around. He made her feel a bit more confident in herself and what she was trying to do. Just when she had figured that the man wasn't coming – and prayed that he hadn't been killed – she saw a dark silhouette in the street and jumped up, rushing to the door.

He knocked three times and whispered the safe word hoarsely before Martha, with Donna right behind her, pulled the door open and allowed him in.

He was a tall, rather handsome man with a head of grey hair and piercing eyes. He was carrying a bag, knuckles wrapped tightly around the strap. He held out his free hand and offered the women a shaky smile.

"Greg Lestrade," he said, huffing a bit.

"Martha Jones," Martha introduced herself, "This is Donna Noble,"

Lestrade nodded to them both, "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but under the circumstances…" he gestured down to the bag.

"Right," Martha took it and opened the bag, glancing inside and sighing in relief. It certainly looked authentic and that was the important part. Hopefully, it would fool the Master, at least for a while. "Thank you, I know how much you risked getting this here."

Lestrade smiled at her, "Well, it'll be worth it if this mad plan of yours works,"

"Not really my plan," Martha smiled, "Most of it's the Doctor and the rest of the credit really goes to Sherlock,"

Lestrade smiled, "Not surprised about that,"

"How is he?" Martha asked, "When you saw him, I mean, was he alright?"

"Yeah," Lestrade nodded, "Bit thinner than I remember him last time, but still Sherlock."

Martha sighed in relief, "Well, you'd best be on your way back. Don't want to get caught by the Toclafane."

Lestrade glanced back towards the door and nodded, "Don't want that at all,"

"Mind if I tag along for a bit?" Martha asked, already kneeling on the floor and carefully putting the first part of their fake weapon into her pack before sliding it onto her shoulders. "Just until we reach the camp."

"Hang on," Donna frowned, "You're leaving tonight? Why not just wait until it's light out? Get some rest, Martha, you haven't slept at all tonight."

"I'll be fine," Martha assured her, "I've got to get moving if I want to make it. Besides, better to leave when it's dark. Easier to hide out, even if the Toclafane are patrolling."

Donna didn't looked pleased about it, but she nodded and hugged Martha tightly before she and Lestrade took off into the night. "You'd better take care of yourself," she warned, "I don't want to hear about you being killed or captured in his announcements."

Martha smiled, "Don't worry about me," she said, "You just take care of yourself and these people. They need someone like you around to kick them into shape every now and then."

Donna chuckled, "'Course they do. They'd be lost without me. That's the only reason I'm not insisting on going with you. But I mean it, Martha, take care of yourself."

"I promise,"

~/.\~

"He's actually not that bad," Van Pelt said, watching Rigsby eye Jane anxiously as the blond man gripped the glock that they had given him. "For a guy who's never even fired a gun, he did really well. I think he'll be fine."

Rigsby grunted, nodding. "I hope you're right about this, Grace," he said, "I just… don't want him to get hurt."

She smiled and squeezed his arm gently, "Don't worry. He'll be fine. We'll have his back if anything goes wrong,"

He forced a smile in return, "Absolutely,"

There was an anxious pit in his stomach and he didn't want to think too hard about what they were going out to do. It was risky enough to go out stealing food or other supplies, but they were taking a trip to Pasadena – one that would require a car and the cover of night. At least there wouldn't be any people patrolling. The Toclafane did that at night. All they had to do was dodge them and make it to Pasadena in one piece. Easy.

They all met outside of the building, the car was sitting there waiting. They had stolen the car off the street a few weeks after the Decimation, but they rarely used it. It was risky driving around and they preferred to go places where they could walk. Not to mention how difficult it was to find gas for the car anyway.

O'Laughlin, Jane, Van Pelt and Rigsby were going to Pasadena. Dr. Holloway and the other agents were staying behind with the children.

"We ready to go?" O'Laughlin asked, leaning against the beat up old car and raising a brow.

"Yeah," Rigsby nodded, still watching Jane nervously. Jane didn't seem bothered by Rigsby's scrutiny, he just grinned brightly and nodded as he and Van Pelt slid into the backseat.

"Come on then," Jane said, sticking his head out the window, "It's already dark, let's get going."

"Calm down, Jane," Rigsby climbed into the driver's seat with O'Laughlin in the passenger side. "We're going. We've got to take this slow. If we get spotted by Toclafane I doubt this piece of junk can outrun them. We've got to be careful, okay?"

Jane wasn't really listening though. He'd been stuck in the safe house for over a month now and he was excited to finally be going somewhere, especially if that somewhere would lead him to Lisbon. His leg was bouncing up and down in the backseat and he stared out the window, fingers tapping restlessly against the back of Rigsby's seat.

He didn't stop his incessant tapping until they finally got going, pulling away from the house. Though it was dark, they drove with the headlights off, glad the night was clear. Along the way they spotted several Toclafane and were forced to pull off the road and cut the engine. It was slow going, but at least they were going.

Jane was constantly moving, leaning forward so that he could see out of the windshield. Van Pelt sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey," she said quietly, "It'll be alright, Patrick. We're going to find her."

He turned to look at her, nodding, "Of course we'll find her," he said, but his eyes were troubled and Van Pelt smiled gently at him. He started to say something else when he spotted something moving ahead in the darkness.

"Hold on," he pointed ahead at something, "What's that?"

O'Laughlin frowned and leaned forward, squinting into the darkness. There, on the side of the road ahead of them, was a small group of people huddled together. Rigsby frowned and pulled over near them, cutting the engine again and leaning out the window.

"Need some help?" he asked.

He was immediately greeted with the end of a .45 and he blinked, leaning back in as a tall man separated from the group with a scowl on his face.

"Who are you?" he demanded, jabbing the gun into the car.

"Whoa, whoa," Rigsby held his hand up and shook his head, "Calm down, buddy, we're not working for the Master, alright?"

"And why should we believe that?"

Rigsby started to say something, but Van Pelt leaned forward and cut him off, "If we were, wouldn't we have shot you already?" she asked, "Besides, only Toclafane are out this late."

The man curled his lip, not looking convinced. Another man from the group looked up and Jane could see that there were four people in the group. The man with the gun and two men leaning over a woman who didn't look conscious.

"Come on, Lassie, be cool," the other man said, "They're just like us. Out here on the run from the floating metal death machines."

The other man – Lassie, apparently – snorted and turned to glare at him, "What, your psychic crap tell you that, Spencer?"

"Hey! You two stop it," the other man, older than the other two, "We've got bigger problems right now." He motioned to the woman and they realized his hands, pressed against her left leg, were bloody and there was a strip of fabric tied tightly over her jeans.

"She alright?" Rigsby asked, frowning.

"No," the older man stepped forward and the younger guy took his place at the woman's side. "We ran into Toclafane a few miles back. She passed out five minutes ago… Henry Spencer. This is my son Shawn. This is Carlton Lassiter,"

He waved his hands to introduce the other two.

"She needs a doctor," O'Laughlin said, eyeing the other woman. "We've got one at our safe house,"

"We can take you," Van Pelt said, "Probably fit you all in here…" The car was small, but they might be able to squeeze two more into the backseat and they could probably carry the woman with them across their laps.

"Wait, what about Lisbon?" Jane frowned, "We can't take them back before we find her,"

"Patrick, they need help," Van Pelt said, "We can go after Lisbon tomorrow night. We can't just leave them out there."

Jane leaned back, looking unhappy, but Rigsby and O'Laughlin seemed to agree with Van Pelt and despite Lassiter's suspicious attitude, they managed to fit Henry and Shawn into the back seat and the woman – whose name was Juliet – was laid out with her head in Shawn's lap and her feet propped up against the window by Jane's head. Lassiter was able to squeeze into the front seat with O'Laughlin and Rigsby and they were soon on their way back to the safe house.

~/.\~

Tosh was the first one up the morning after their reunion. She was sitting at her computer station, a furrow already appearing between her eyes as she studied the computer screen. She had been at it for an hour whenever Gwen came in, smiling a bit. She was glad to be back in a familiar place.

"You're up early," she said, coming around to see the monitor.

"Habit," Tosh said, "Ianto and I have been keeping an eye on everything since we got back to the Hub. The Rift's been quiet lately, only had to deal with a few Weevils every now and then, thankfully. But that doesn't mean much, considering the Toclafane attacks and the Master watching everything."

Gwen sat down and brushed her hair back, frowning, "Who exactly is Dr. Badass?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Our best guess, another rebel. He's in North American from what I can tell, but he's not trusting me yet. I've tried to get him to talk to me…" she frowned, fingers tapping against the keyboard. "He might be able to help us."

"So you haven't had any luck cracking the network?"

"No," Tosh sighed and leaned back, "But if we had some help, like this Dr. Badass person, I think we could break it a lot faster."

"Oh, I slept great!" Owen came in, stretching and grinning from ear to ear. Tosh and Gwen both laughed as he flopped down in a chair, closing his eyes and humming a bit. Gwen hadn't seen him so happy in a month – probably longer. It was good to see him smiling again.

Ianto and Jake quickly followed Owen and John wasn't far behind either of them. John and Jake both looked much more refreshed and well rested than either of them had been in a very long time.

"Is there coffee?" Owen asked, glancing over at Ianto.

Gwen sighed, "Owen, come on, how are they going to have coffee –"

"It's in the conference room," Ianto cut her off, smiling a bit when Owen jumped and practically ran to the room.

"How did you manage to find coffee out there?" Jake asked, frowning, "I thought this place was a dead zone."

"It is," Ianto said, "But I'm very good at my job." He smiled a slightly impish smile and followed Owen to the conference to get coffee for everyone else. Tosh and Gwen laughed. John rubbed a hand across his face and wandered over to where they were.

"So this is what you've been doing then?" he asked, "Trying to break into his network?"

"Yes," Tosh nodded, "Unfortunately, like I said, we haven't gotten very far. Sherlock maybe be able to help whenever he arrives –" Almost as soon as the words had left her mouth they heard the inside alarm let them know that someone was coming down.

"Must be him now," Gwen said, "Can't wait to meet him."

Tosh smiled, "Remember what I said," she warned, "He's not exactly sociable."

"Ah, I'm sure we'll be fine," Gwen said, smiling, "As long as he's helping us at least."

"That I am," Sherlock's voice greeted them before he did and he swept into the computer room, head high and in spite of his nearly skeletal appearance, he seemed almost regal as he stopped and smiled.

"Ah, I see you must've located your missing teammates," he said, turning to Tosh.

"Sort of," Tosh said, "It's actually a rather long story, but this is Gwen, Jake and John." She motioned to them and smiled as Sherlock turned cold, calculating eyes onto them all. "Owen and Ianto are in the conference room."

"Splendid," Sherlock clapped his hands together, "Let's all go there. It's a good thing I came when I did. I think your base might be in danger."

"Danger?" Tosh paled, frowning. "Since when? We've been fine all this time."

"The Master has added your names to the list," Sherlock said, "I suppose you haven't checked that yet. Seeing as he almost certainly knows where your base is, staying here is out of the question."

~/.\~

Castiel took up his post watching the Winchesters. He had been watching the pair of brothers for a while and felt as if he knew them – he couldn't say he understood exactly, of course. Even spending years watching humans, he'd rarely interacted with them and had a slim grasp on human emotions. Currently, the two brothers were in Minnesota and had been reunited with their half-brother. At least, Castiel assumed Adam Milligan truly was their half-brother. He had never been informed of another Winchester sibling before. Perhaps he should speak to his older brothers about this.

He didn't hear his brother arrive, engrossed as he had become in the unfolding drama on the earth bellow.

"Ah, there you are, Cassie!"

He blinked and turned to see Balthazar, one of the angels in his own garrison. Balthazar was younger than Castiel, though not by much. They had fought together many times in the past – in the war during the Lucifer's Fall they had fought side-by-side. Balthazar had a more… mischievous nature than most angels, a trait that had gotten him into trouble more than a few times.

At the moment, he was smiling a cheeky grin at Castiel, looking very pleased with himself in a way that made Castiel nervous.

"Why wouldn't I be here?" Castiel asked, "This is my post."

"Yes, but I hear you've been taking a few pleasure trips bellow lately," said Balthazar, smiling.

Castiel frowned, "They were not 'pleasure trips', Balthazar, " he said sternly, "I was merely –"

"Merely leaving your post without permission," Balthazar cut him off, still grinning, "Not that I see why a few humans matter to you, but it got me to thinking… I can't be the only one who's noticed how time seems to have gone awry."

Castiel blinked, "No," he said, "The others have noticed as well. We're under orders not to interfere."

"And yet… interfere you did. You know, I didn't think you had it in you, Cassie."

"I don't understand,"

Balthazar sighed, "Of course not," he said, "Not my point anyway. I was just thinking… they all know something's wrong, so why aren't we helping them? Normally we'd be down there preparing for battle, wouldn't we? We don't even know how time has been tampered with on such a vast scale, but we're told to sit and watch?"

"Those are our orders, Balthazar,"

"Right," Balthazar nodded, "And far be it from me to disobey, but doesn't it feel like they aren't telling us something? Something important?"

"If we needed to know, we would," Castiel said, though he felt uneasiness stirring inside of him. He wanted to know. He didn't like not being told what was going on and he was sure that Michael and the others knew. Zachariah probably knew as well, seeing as he often worked very closely with Michael.

"Oh, and I'm sure you agree, given this new rebellious attitude of yours,"

"I am not rebelling –" Castiel started to defend himself when Balthazar held up his hand and cut him off once more.

"Right, right, of course you aren't," he said, "And while you're busy not-rebelling, I thought I'd pass along a bit of information…"

Castiel waited, frowning at Balthazar as the other angel paused and lowered his voice. It was difficult, in Heaven, to know when or if their conversations were monitored. Angels didn't know everything, far from it really, but the archangels, and Raphael in particular, were paranoid bastards when they wanted to be.

"There's another angel on earth," Balthazar whispered, "And from the looks of it, he's powerful."

"That is impossible,"

"Is it?" Balthazar raised a brow, "Really, Cas, do you think that I would tell you that if I weren't sure? No, I've checked. He's in North America at the moment, but lately he's been popping 'round the whole globe. Can't be sure what he's up to, but he's definitely one of us."

"Michael would have noticed something like this,"

Balthazar grinned, "Not if he was clever, Cassie. Not if he knew how to hide. I wouldn't have noticed it myself if he hadn't let something slip a week ago in Montana. Saw his wings and everything…"

Castiel frowned, "How could he be leaving Heaven unnoticed like that?"

Balthazar's eyes shone brightly, "Here's the thing," he said, "I don't think he is. I think he's been down there a while now and we just haven't noticed him. Been a bit busy, what with the Plan and everything."

Castiel's brow furrowed in puzzlement. This didn't make any sense to him. How could an angel hide for so long on earth without being noticed? He'd have to be smart and fairly powerful to do that. There were no angels missing… He thought back to all the angels who had died. The last time any angel had died was during the Fall and that had been such a long time ago. Lucifer had killed many before Michael cast him down.

For just a moment, Castiel considered telling Balthazar to inform Zachariah of this supposed angel. But then he thought about the condition of the earth and what Balthazar had said about them not being given all the information. He frowned and the next words out of his mouth were perhaps the hardest he'd ever spoken. He'd never directly disobeyed an order without proper justification.

"The next time you see this angel, notify me immediately," he said. Balthazar grinned again.

"That's what I thought you'd say," And he was gone. Castiel turned back to the Winchesters, but he wasn't able to focus on them any longer. He knew if Zachariah asked him, he'd tell him about this other angel; he couldn't lie. But did withholding the information constitute a lie as well? He wasn't sure and he wished the uneasy feeling inside of him would go away.

~/.\~

Ducky was a master story teller. The BAU agents had gotten used to his stories over the past month and the NCIS agents had had years to get used to it – and grow fond of it. They'd all heard this story before, but they were all still listening in interest. The story never really stopped being interesting. The things that Ducky had seen and done were often hard to believe – Gibbs wasn't sure he would've believed it himself if it hadn't been for all the things that were happening these days.

"Of course, I wouldn't say I knew him very well, the Doctor, but even I knew he was a force to be reckoned with." Ducky explained. "Almost too impossible to believe, the things he could do and said he had done. I might not have believed it for myself, but I saw him regenerate right in front of my eyes. I'll never forget that…"

He had quite a few stories to tell about the things he had seen, not all of them centered around the Doctor specifically. Working with UNIT had given him more than his fair share of strange. Fornell broke in to ask questions every now then, about things he had seen, about people that had met the Doctor. Ducky knew a few people – many of them who were either listed among the dead or who appeared on the Master's Wanted list.

He told them about the things he witnessed, about the people he'd met, recounting nearly every person he'd ever met who'd come into contact with the Doctor. He told them about the Brigadier, about Sarah Jane Smith, Harry Sullivan, even about a man he met not long after he'd left UNIT. A man named Jack Harkness.

"I had never had such a shock in my life!" Ducky insisted, a bit of a smile on his face, "I was alone in the morgue, cutting into this young man – he'd been shot several times by the looks of it – when suddenly, he just sat right up on the table!"

Jack gasped and shot forward on the table, naked and bleeding from where Ducky had started to cut into. The startled young medical examiner froze and stumbled back a few feet, staring with wide eyes at the not-so-dead-dead-man.

"You're alive!"

Jack smirked, swinging his legs over the autopsy table, twisting his neck and flexing his arms. He looked down at his bleeding chest and made a face, "Damn," he shook his head, "Hate when this happens."

Ducky blinked, "This happens a lot?"

Jack grinned, "More than you can imagine, Doc,"

It was possibly the most insane collection of stories that Fornell had ever heard, but he looked around at the BAU agents and NCIS agents and shook his head. They were all listening with interest, but there wasn't a hint of disbelief on any of their faces.

"Hell of a story, Ducky," Fornell said, leaning back, "Hell of a man…" he trailed off and swiped a hand over his head, looking a bit shocked. "If anyone can help us, he can,"

Hotch nodded, "But if the Master has him and his friends on the Valiant,"

"He's gonna need some help this time," Gibbs said, frowning. "We don't know how we're going to do it, but we've got Abby, McGee and Garcia working on it."

"Ooh," Garcia suddenly perked up, "We haven't been able to break through the network yet," she said, "But Abby might've noticed something. Someone else poking around in there. We haven't been able to make contact yet, but if there are more people out there looking…"

"We might be able to break through," McGee said, "First real break we've had so far."

Gibbs grinned, "Keep trying to make contact then," he said, "If they can help us, we need all the help we can get."

~/.\~

A/N: Soooo… another chapter down. Not sure how I feel about it. That scene with Ducky was difficult to write and I'm not really sure why. Also… high probability of Crowley next chapter and be prepared for angst. There was supposed to be a lot of action and possible death in this chapter, but the scenes got away from me so next chapter might be longer. Brace yourselves.

Hope you enjoyed it and please, please review!