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: Another long wait, I know… Sorry guys. I've just been very busy with school lately. Next week is my spring break though, so maybe I'll be able to write more then! Thanks for the reviews, I know I'm behind on updates, but… forgive me? Please?

Hope you enjoy the chapter! Please don't forget to review!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Fifteen

It was late whenever the Doctor was returned to the conference room. His eyes immediately went to Spencer, who was pale and curled up, leaning against the wall. His hair looked damp and his clothes were definitely clean and the Doctor frowned at the sight, wondering what had happened while he was being interrogated.

He eased himself closed to the young FBI agent, reaching out tentatively and touching him on the shoulder, "Spencer?"

Spencer still tensed up at the gentle touch, but didn't flinch away, instead turning to look over at the Doctor with wide, tear-filled eyes. The Doctor felt his chest tighten at the sight and Spencer scooted back a bit, so that he was closer to the Doctor, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "about earlier. I didn't mean –"

"Don't," the Doctor hadn't meant for the word to sound so angry, but he couldn't bear listening to Spencer apologize for being tortured. "Don't do that, Spencer. This is my fault and –"

"But it isn't," Spencer's voice was small and the Doctor had to strain a bit to hear him. He looked away from the Doctor, staring down at his hands, "It's not your fault, Doctor, you haven't done anything to me."

"I brought you here,"

"I wanted to come with you,"

The Doctor sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I'm so sorry, Spencer. I will get you out of this. You and Martha and everyone else. I will fix this."

Spencer smiled a bit, "I know you will, Doctor," he said.

"Spencer…" the Doctor hesitated, "The Master didn't say what happened, but… if you want to talk about it –"

"I don't," Reid's voice was tight and his hands suddenly clenched into fists. The Doctor nodded slowly, removing his hand from Spencer's shoulder.

"I understand,"

Reid swallowed and closed his eyes, "You know what happened," he said.

He hesitated, "I… have a theory," he winced at his own words and Spencer scoffed. The sound was all wrong coming out the younger man's mouth.

"A theory…" he said, his voice hollow. He was quiet for a long moment and then he opened his eyes, staring down at his clenched fists.

"I can still feel him, Doctor," he said, his voice cracking. "I can… I can still hear him laughing…"

Spencer paled and his fists tightened impossibly. "Whenever I close my eyes… I… Doctor, I can't…"

"Shh," the Doctor reached over and gently put an arm around his thin shoulders. He was careful to watch Spencer's face. He tensed, but again didn't flinch so the Doctor pulled him closer and Spencer laid his head against his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

"We don't have to talk about it," the Doctor assured him. "We can talk about anything you want. Or nothing at all. It's up to you."

Spencer nodded, "Anything but that, please…" he said, "Just… talk to me. Please."

The Doctor sighed, nodding, "I've been thinking…" he said slowly, "The Master is starting to think that something isn't quite right. We've been here a month and haven't made a proper escape attempt. He's starting to wonder… I've got to let Jack know we're going to try to escape…"

"But what about your plan?"

"We won't really escape," the Doctor said, "Or I won't. If you and Jack and the Joneses can get out, you have to. I'll still be here to continue integrating with Archangel."

Spencer frowned, "You don't really expect us to just leave you here with the Master by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," the Doctor assured him. "We've got to try anyway, to keep the Master from asking too many questions about what's going on."

Spencer nodded, his head still resting against the Doctor's shoulders, "How are we going to do it then?"

~/.\~

Adam woke up to a pained grunting noise and blinked his eyes a few times to be able to see. It was very early morning, the grey light filtering in through the cracks in the old barn siding. He shoved himself up on his elbows and looked around, spotting the four bundles nearby. For a moment, he forgot about the noise that woken him until he saw Sam tossing and turning in his sleep. In the dim light, Adam could just make out Sam's face scrunched in a pained grimace.

He crawled toward his brother, trying not to wake anyone else, and shook him roughly. It took several hard shoves before Sam's eyes snapped open and he jerked up, snatching Adam's wrist into a tight, painful grip.

"Hey, hey, dude, calm down, it's me!"

Sam gulped several deep breaths before his eyes focused on Adam, his brows scrunched tightly over his eyes. "Adam," he took another shuddering breath before letting go of Adam's wrist and instead grabbed onto the front of his shirt, eyes roving around the barn.

"Amelia…" he finally said, "Where's Amelia?"

Adam frowned and turned to where Amelia had been sleeping the night before, "She's right over –" he frowned, "Oh. She's gone."

Sam jumped to his feet and Adam followed him as he shook Dean awake viciously, "Dean, dude, get up. Now."

Dean grumbled and rolled over, his eyes cracking open as Henricksen began to stir across from them. "Ugh, dude, what time is it?"

"Don't know," Sam's voice was tight and rough and Dean's eyes shot all the way open. He sat up and grabbed his brother's shoulders, tugging him closer and looking him over.

"You alright? What happened?"

Sam glanced toward Henricksen and Adam, hesitating for a second, "I think I had another vision…"

"One of your weirdo psychic dreams?" Dean scrubbed at his eyes, yawning a bit as he stood and balled the blanket up, eyes going to where Amelia wasn't sleeping. "Where's the chick?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "But that's what the dream was about."

"He has psychic dreams?" Henricksen asked, frowning as he stretched and stood as well, eyeing the younger Winchester more closely than he had before. Adam followed Henricksen's gaze and grimaced a bit at Sam's bloodshot eyes and haggard, pale face. He looked like death warmed over.

"Long story," Dean said, turning back to Sam quickly, "What did you see?"

Sam glanced around between the three of them, "It was just… snatches," he said, "I couldn't make everything out, but I could… feel it. It was you and me and Adam…" his eyes went toward Adam and he frowned a bit, "And Amelia."

"The chick?"

Sam sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, "We killed her."

For a moment there was silence and then Dean scoffed, a half nervous laugh escaping, "Come on, Sam, you know we wouldn't just kill some random, innocent woman."

Sam eyed him skeptically and Dean scowled, "Okay, fine, you wouldn't. There had to be more. Maybe you weren't seeing it right."

Sam shook his head, "I know what I saw Dean,"

"Well… well, we must've had a good reason," Dean said, frowning at his brother, "Come on, what else was there, Sam, think!"

"I don't know!" Sam insisted, "I told you, it was pretty jumbled up. I couldn't see everything clearly."

Dean scowled, "Maybe it was just a dream,"

"No," Sam shook his head, "It was a vision; I can feel the difference."

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Fucking perfect," he muttered, "You have one of your freak visions and now Amelia's missing…"

"I'm missing?" they all jumped a bit at the sound of Amelia's voice, turning to see her standing near the barn door. Her brows furrowed tightly as she stepped further in, closing the door behind her. She hesitated for a second as all their eyes turned toward her and she forced a tiny smile.

"Sorry, I needed to step out for a few minutes," she reached into her pocket and held up a small pack of matches, "Cigarette."

"Those things'll kill you, you know," Sam said, his voice tight as he tried to keep his tone conversational. Adam thought he saw Amelia's eyes narrow suspiciously, but then the moment was gone and she looked the same as she had the night before, except not nearly as depressed or in shock.

"Where'd you get cigarettes anyway?" Dean demanded. Adam noticed Dean's hand slip behind his back to where he kept his gun and he frowned. He wasn't really going to just shoot her in cold blood, was he? "It's kind of difficult to get smokes these days, isn't it?"

Amelia shrugged, "Guess when you've got an addiction you'll do whatever it takes," she said.

Dean nodded, pressing his lips together tightly before suddenly pulling the gun out and pointing it at Amelia. She blinked and her hands flew up, eyes widening.

"Cut the crap," Dean snarled, "What were you doing?"

"Dean," Sam's tone was low and he stepped closer to his older brother, "Come on, don't freak her out."

Dean's eyes skirted to Sam, "If what you saw is gonna happen, there's a reason, Sammy," he said, "I'm not taking chances. Now talk." He jabbed the gun toward Amelia and she stumbled back a bit, looking to Adam and Sam and Henricksen for help. Adam didn't know what to do, Sam looked like he was ready to take Dean's gun away and Henricksen's eyes kept going between Dean and Amelia as if he wasn't entirely sure which one to defend.

"I told you, I was smoking," Amelia said.

"Right," Dean said, "Then where are the rest of the cigarettes?"

Amelia's jaw flexed and she looked down, "I smoked the last one," she said.

Dean snorted, "Not buying it, sister," he said, "What were you doing?"

Amelia opened her mouth to say something, closed it and looked between the others again, half hoping that she would be able to get some sympathy. When she realized that they were all giving her the same skeptical, uncertain look she huffed and her hands fell to her side.

"Oh fine," she muttered, "I wasn't smoking." A wicked smile suddenly flickered across her face, "I was summoning a demon."

"Wh-" Sam started to say something when the barn door suddenly blew out and a young woman with long red hair and bright blue eyes stood there. None of them had ever seen the woman before, but after a second, the blue disappeared and was replaced with solid black and she grinned.

"Sam, Dean," she said cheerily, "It's been a while…"

Sam had just enough time to say, "Meg?" before he and the others were thrown across the barn, landing in a heap against the creaking wood. Dean's gun was yanked from his hand and tossed somewhere behind the demon and Amelia stood off to the side, smiling brightly.

"What the hell?" Dean grunted, standing and yanking Henricksen to his feet while Sam did the same with Adam. Sam studied Amelia's eager face and suddenly it hit him.

"She's a witch,"

"Fuck," Dean swore, "Freakin' witches." He sent a dirty glare in Amelia's direction, "Guess that explains how she knew about crossroads demons." He paused for a second, "Though I don't know why she'd bargain for her husband's life."

"Hey," Amelia frowned, crossing her arms, "You don't think witches can love people?"

Dean snorted, "Not in my experience, Sweet heart."

Amelia narrowed her eyes and suddenly Dean was lifted and thrown back into the wall in a sickening crunch. Sam grabbed him and hauled him to his feet again, turning his attention to the demon who was watching them with an amused smile.

"It's you, isn't it Meg?"

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Sammy?" she grinned, looking down at her body, "How do like my new look? Had to get a new host after you and your idiot brother exorcised me." The last words were spat and Dean smirked a bit, shrugging.

"Sorry 'bout that, but… seeing as you're an evil bitch and everything, it just seemed like the thing to do."

The black vanished and Meg's eyes were blue again. She smiled brightly, lifting her hand and curling it slowly into a fist. Dean grunted and gasped, blood trickling from his mouth. Sam grabbed him to keep him from falling.

"Dean!" he turned to Meg, who was now laughing, "Stop it!"

She sighed and lowered her hand, "You're no fun at all, Sammy," she said.

Dean coughed, blood splattered out onto the dirt floor and he looked up, "Well, this is fun and all, but we got places to be –"

"Think it's really gonna be that easy to get out of this one, Deano?"

Dean's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, nearly stumbling again. Sam held him steady and looked toward Meg, "Look, you got us. Let these two go, they're not part of this."

"I hear differently," Meg said, stepping toward them, her eyes on Adam, "I hear you and Deano found your long-lost baby brother."

Adam felt a bit dirty as the demon's eyes roved over his body, "He's kinda cute, isn't he?"

"He's not part of this," Sam said, his voice hard, "Just let them go."

"Not a chance," Meg snorted, "I've got you right where I want you." She continued forward until she was right in front of Sam and Dean, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee as she seemed to think about her next move.

"The only question now is… what am I going to do with you?"

She stepped closer, her eyes on Sam, lips twisting into a smile. Sam waited until she took another step, her face inches away from his, to yank the flask from Dean's inside pocket. He splashed the holy water right into her face, grinning as she screamed. He pushed Adam toward Henricksen, "RUN!" he yelled, shoving them both forward as he pulled a knife from his belt. Dean swayed a bit on his feet, blood dripping from his lips, but he took grabbed his knife as Sam launched himself at Meg.

Adam and Henricksen took off at a run, but Amelia headed them off, eyes blazing with power as she threw them both into the air and dropped them back down again. Henricksen landed with a loud crunch, but Adam fell hard onto a large pile of dirty straw. The breath was knocked out of his lungs for a moment, but he rolled off the pile quickly and struggled to regain his footing. As he stood, he found himself standing behind Amelia, her back to him. She had returned to watching Meg and his brothers.

His eyes flashed toward the gun Meg had yanked from Dean earlier and his heart skipped a beat. He'd never fired a gun in his life. But he'd take the chance now if it would help. He slowly made his way toward the weapon, glancing back toward Dean and Sam every couple of seconds.

Across the barn, Meg had recovered from the holy water attack, and though Sam's knife had pinned her to the ground, she was easily able to yank it out, looking at the bloodied weapon in annoyance.

"You really shouldn't have done that, Sam," she said, eyes flickering to black again as she threw Sam into the wall, pinning him there. The younger Winchester suddenly found it impossible to breathe and his chest was tight like it was about to explode. He futilely tried to gasp for air, but the harder he tried to breath, the more it hurt. Dean had fallen to his knees, still a bit weak from blood loss, pain shooting through his entire body.

He held his knife in a slightly loose grip and struggled back to his feet, throwing himself at Meg and knocking her back to the ground. He slammed the hilt of the knife into her head once and then shoved the blade through her throat. It didn't kill her, but she blinked several times, gurgling and appearing to be disoriented. Dean grinned as Sam took a step forward and kicked Meg in the side of the head. They heard a crack and saw more blood and Meg's eyes rolled back into unconsciousness, her skull caved in.

She might not be dead, but it would take her a bit to recover from those injuries in any case. Sam started to congratulate him brother until he heard Amelia's angry scream and felt himself get thrown once more into the barn wall. Dean landed with a thud next to him. He choked a bit and saw black at the edge of his vision. Just when he'd prepared himself for death – again – he and Dean both fell back to the ground and Amelia screamed again.

Adam was behind her, holding the gun in his hands. He'd fired off a shot, but it had only hit her shoulder and she whirled around in a rage.

"Adam!" Sam scrambled to his feet, hearing Dean panting behind him, and rushed toward Amelia, snatching the bloody knife as he went. He lunged toward the witch, managing to stab her pretty deep in the arm, but she spun around quickly and knocked the blade from his hand. So he resorted to punching her instead. He got in two or three good hits, feeling something crack under his hands. Blood spewed from what Sam guessed was a now broken nose and she thrust her hands out, sending him flying once more into the wall, black eating away at his vision.

Near the mouth of the barn, Adam was still holding the gun, but it was empty or jammed, because it wasn't firing. As Dean shuffled toward Amelia with a scream of rage, Adam ran towards her from behind and brought the butt of the gun down on the back of her head with a satisfying crunch. She screamed and spun, launching Adam through the air, where he hit the barn doors and fell, eyes rolling back in his head.

Dean drunkenly swung his arm, landing a good heavy blow to the side of Amelia's already aching head. She stumbled drunkenly for a moment and then fell, her vision blurring. But Dean wasn't done yet.

He laid into her with an animalistic fury, straddling her waist and landing blow after blow. Her right eye was swollen shut and she was choking on blood, but he didn't stop until she finally quite fighting beneath him. He was breathing heavily, vision dancing in and out of focus, as he felt her neck for a pulse. Satisfied when he didn't find one, he stumbled to his feet and hobbled his way toward the barely conscious Sam.

"D'ya ge' 'er?" Sam slurred, blinking bleary eyes up at his older brother.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "Got her. C'mon, we gotta get outta here. Help me get these two… Before Meg wakes up…"

~/.\~

Shawn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his forehead pressed up against the edge of the couch that Juliet was currently laying on. Every now and then, Dr. Holloway would come by and check on her, making sure that she was breathing. An hour ago she'd told them that Juliet's pulse was much steadier than it had been and they'd been giving her water, which she swallowed reflexively.

He spent a long time just sitting there watching her. She was breathing evenly now, her cheeks were a faint pink color again and though Dr. Holloway was concerned about a mild fever she'd developed earlier in the afternoon, she was definitely better than she had been.

At the moment, Shawn was nearly on the brink of exhaustion. He hadn't gotten much sleep in the past couple of weeks and he wasn't sure if that would change anytime soon. Gus was missing and now Juliet was hurt and he and Henry had spent the past month trying to find out what happened to Madeline, to no end. They still had no idea if she was alive or dead and Shawn tried to stay positive. It was what he was best, after all. Making horrible, bleak situations a tiny bit better by cracking some joke or off-the-wall movie reference.

Except that after Gus went missing, Shawn seemed to have forgotten how to joke properly and even though he constantly told Lassie that there was no way his best friend was going to die – especially not without him – he was beginning to doubt it.

Blinking, he stifled a yawn and looked up whenever a hand came down heavily on his shoulder. He looked up to his see father standing there and turned away, instead looking back at Juliet.

He lifted the wet cloth he'd been wiping her forehead with every now and then and pressed it against her face gently.

"Why don't you let me take a shift, son?" Henry asked, "You've been sitting here for hours."

"No, I've got it," Shawn said, watching Juliet's face rather than turn back to look at his dad.

"Shawn, you're gonna run yourself ragged. Now, I know you and Lassiter care about Juliet, but they've got a doctor here looking after her and if you don't get some sleep you'll only be hurting yourself."

"I have to do something, Dad," Shawn snapped, still not turning to look at Henry. "If I can't help Gus, at least I can help Jules."

Henry sighed and squeezed Shawn's shoulder, "I know you're worried, but we'll find him."

Shawn just nodded and Henry let go on his shoulder, shaking his head and moving toward Dr. Holloway to speak to her a bit. She'd explained to them about her encounter with the Doctor and the Master years ago in San Francisco. If it weren't for the things that had happened in the last month, Henry would've told her that she was insane, but as it was… it only disturbed him more.

The Master had been killed, and had, in fact, had an entirely different face back then. Yet he somehow managed to get a new body and was amazing not-dead for a dead man. He hadn't fully believed the Master's claims of being unkillable, but with Grace's story weighing on his mind he had to wonder if maybe it really was impossible to kill the man…

He glanced back over at Shawn and shook his head again. Shawn had been nearly as persistent as Lassiter while watching over Juliet, making sure to give her water and keep her cooled down while they waited for her fever to break. Dr. Holloway was worried about how long she'd been unconscious, but she'd lost a lot of blood and was doing remarkably well considering the trauma she'd suffered.

"Come on, Jules," Shawn whispered, pressing the cloth against her flushed skin, "You can't die on me now. We still gotta find Gus, and if I'm stuck with Henry and Lassie we'll kill each other. You know Lassie's armed. You're wily, feminine… wiles… are the only thing keeping him for doing it…"

He sighed and removed the cloth, leaning down to press his forehead against the couch again.

"…Wily feminine wiles?"

Shawn's head jerked up and he found himself looking into Juliet's glazed over eyes. She smiled at him and he couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"Jules!"

"Hey, Shawn…" her voice was weak, but she beamed at him for a moment before looking around the room. "Where are we?"

She started to sit up and Shawn pushed her gently back down, "No, you gotta stay still. The Doctor lady said you've got a fever."

Juliet frowned, "Doctor lady?" she rasped a bit and Shawn immediately reached for the water bottle, holding it up to her lips. She drank a bit and pushed it away, shaking her head.

"Shawn, stop! Let me talk," she sighed, "Where's Lassiter? And where are we?"

"Some safe house… I think we're outside of Sacramento. You'll feel right at home, there are a lot of cops here."

"And Lassiter?"

"They went out looking for someone and Lassie went with them. I think he just wanted an excuse to shoot something."

Juliet smile a little and shook her head at him, "Well, he'll be happy to be doing something… Any word on Gus?"

Shawn's smile fell and he shook his head. Juliet sighed, but didn't say anything, instead blinking as Shawn suddenly leaned forward and pressed a wet cloth to her head.

"Gotta keep you cooled down," Shawn said, forcing a smile. "You're just too hot for your own good, Jules."

Juliet didn't say anything, just laying back and thinking. Her leg was throbbing and she felt uncomfortably sticky. She could feel her hair sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck and tried her best not to squirm at the gritty feeling of dirt on her hands. She tried to shift and sit up again, but Shawn was quick to keep her down. Not that it really mattered; she'd barely been able to get the energy to push herself up.

She didn't like Shawn being so quiet, it unnerved her, but at the same time, she was grateful for the chance to try and collect her thoughts. She couldn't remember much about what had happened. They were looking for Gus and there had been Toclafane, but… she only got flashes after that. Muddy memories of pain and screaming and bright lights and sharp knives.

Glancing toward Shawn she sighed. He still didn't look like himself and he hadn't since Gus had gone missing. She knew Gus was Shawn's best friend and had been since they were children; she couldn't imagine how he was feeling. He looked so dead. Even after the Decimation, Shawn had somehow retained his quirky personality and sense of humor, but lately he hardly smiled and only half-heartedly joked.

She fumbled around for a moment before she found his hand and clutched it tightly. He froze for a second and met her eyes, smiling a little. She didn't say anything and she didn't really need to. He understood. For a moment, he felt that hope flare up in his chest again. They would Gus if it was the last thing he did.

~/.\~

"You heard from those boys yet?" Rufus made his way back into the common area, casting an annoyed eye toward the shelves that were conspicuously absent of Johnny Walker Blue.

Ash looked up from his homemade laptop and frowned, lips tugging down a bit. "Nah," he said, "They were supposed to call in over an hour ago, but I haven't heard a peep out of 'em yet."

"I wouldn't worry," Gordon said from the hall, carrying a shotgun in his hands, "They probably just made a stop to carry on their family reunion. Maybe they found their long-lost sister too."

Martin was right behind him, "Come on, Gordon, don't be an ass. I know you're tired of being stuck in here, but they're professionals. They're daddy raised 'em right."

Gordon grunted, shaking his head, "If you ask me, some of their daddy's training didn't quite rub off."

"Where you two heading?" Rufus called, frowning.

"Food run," Gordon said, holding the shotgun up, "Be back by sundown."

"Watch yourselves out there," Rufus called, frowning as he wandered toward the alcohol shelf. It was a meager supply and he frowned, "And bring back some Johnny Walker Blue!"

Gordon snorted, already halfway down the hall, "Any other requests?"

Rufus grumbled and planted himself down at the table where he usually spent most of his time. Ash watched him for a moment before turning his attention back to the beeping of his laptop.

"What are you up to, boy?"

"I just got a reply from one of those other houses out there," he said, glancing up toward the other man.

"They hunters or what?"

"No," Ash frowned, "FBI,"

Rufus' eyes widened, "FBI, huh? They say where they're at?"

"Virginia," Ash said, "And get this. They said they have some big time info on the Master. Sometime we ought to hear…"

"What is it?"

"I'm waiting on the reply," Ash said, frowning and leaning back.

Rufus grunted, "Maybe we'll actually get some help for a change. And if Sam and Dean can find this safe house in Minnesota…"

Ash frowned, picking up the make-shift phone he'd created. "Yeah, but if they die out there –"

"Die?" Garth entered to common area, "Come on, Ash, this is Sam and Dean! They're not dead."

"They haven't checked in yet," Ash frowned, "They're not late without a reason." He rolled the phone over in his fingers and frowned, "There's been a spike in demon activity out that way in the past couple of weeks."

Rufus snorted, "They better be more worried about Toclafane than demons," he said, "Those demons out there are probably crossroads demons. They close their deals and get goin'."

"We're talking about the Winchesters," Ash reminded him. Rufus shrugged and Garth frowned.

"They'll be fine. You two are worrying about nothing," he told him.

Ash grunted, but didn't saying anything for a long minute until his computer started beeping again.

"It's the FBI people!" he slid closer.

"What'd they say?"

"Hold on, hold on…"

~/.\~

"We have to stop," Tosh was holding her side, breathing heavily. It had been several long and stressful hours of dodging Toclafane before they reached the edge of the city. They were nestled between two houses, both clearly abandoned. There was a car still sitting in the driveway of one of them, though Tosh wasn't sure if it was still drive-able.

Sherlock frowned and started to say something to her, but she motioned to Jake, who was carrying John solo for the moment. John was biting down hard on his lower lip, his face screwed up to keep from calling out in pain.

"John needs to rest. We can't keep going while he's injured. We can stay here for a few hours and get going. None of us have even eaten."

Sherlock curled his upper lip a bit, but nodded curtly. "I suppose you have a point," he said, "Very well. This will be a decent enough stopping point."

His eyes flicked toward the car, "Perhaps we can attempt to get the car running. It would certainly make our travelling easier."

"But it'll be more risky," Ianto pointed out, "The only people driving are working for the Master and if we're stopped…"

"We've got guns," Owen said, pushing past him, "Anyone stops us, we'll kill 'em." He didn't look back as he started toward the house and easily pushed the front door open.

Tosh sighed and glanced back toward Ianto, shaking her head as she, Sherlock and Ianto followed, helping Jake get John through the door without aggravating his leg too badly.

The house was a total wreck, broken glass, picture frames and a coffee table that had been sawed in half. There was a couch, shredded though it was, was big enough to lay John on semi-comfortably.

"How are you doing, Johnny?" Jake asked, moving the injured leg a bit. John hissed a bit and clenched his teeth.

"I'll live," John said, forcing a smile. Jake grinned at him, clapping his easily on the shoulder and shaking his head.

"You'd better," Jake told him, "I ain't losing anyone else."

Sherlock was scanning the place with his calculating, critical gaze. "We should be able to stay here for a short while at least," he said, "I doubt the Toclafane patrol this area very heavily. Of course, one can't be too careful. We'll need to leave as soon as possible."

"You know, you could just sit down and rest, Sherlock," Tosh told him, "We've been travelling for hours. You must be tired,"

"I've got too much to thinking to do to be tired," Sherlock said.

"You should take a break, maybe a nap would do you good," Tosh tried again and Sherlock scoffed.

"I don't need sleep, sleeping's boring. What I need is silence…" his eyes traveled toward the stairs just beyond the living room. The banister was broken, but the stairs appeared to be safe enough.

"I'll be upstairs," he said. He didn't wait for anyone to respond, sweeping up the stairs with that same, haughty, almost regal air around him as he went. Tosh pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Come on, Owen," she said, standing from where she'd been going through the bags. "Let's see if that car is in working order."

Owen just nodded curtly and went outside. He still wasn't saying much and Tosh wasn't sure what to do about it. She needed to get him to open up, but that was probably not going to happen anytime soon.

She paused at the door, "You'll be alright watching John for a while by yourself?"

"If I need anything I holler," Jake assured her.

She smiled at him, nodding and followed Owen back to the car.

~/.\~

Martha was enjoying helping Molly out with the patients in the infirmary. There were only three patients, of course, but she was still reminded of her days training in the hospital back in London. She smiled a bit as she thought about the day she'd met the Doctor and her whole life turned upside down – in a good way, generally speaking. She didn't like to think too much about the current situation, instead keeping herself busy.

"So you really think this Doctor will be able to help us then?" Molly asked as she and Martha left the infirmary. She was leading Martha down to the dining area. Martha had met one of the other two doctors in the place earlier, a young man named Tomas who was a local to Lisbon. He had recognized Martha, but quickly accept Molly's pleas to allow her to stay until nightfall. Molly assured Martha that the other doctor would be fine with her staying as well, but he was out on a call at a nearby factory and probably wouldn't be back for another couple of hours.

"I know the Doctor can," she said, "If you could just see the things he's shown me…" she sighed and shook her head, "I know I must sound mad, but really…"

"Oh, you don't!" Molly said quickly, "It sounds wonderful! Really, just so wonderful. All those planets and aliens… I mean, it sounds absolutely dangerous and I can't even imagine… But he sounds so remarkable."

Martha smiled at her, "He is," she said, "You'd love him, Molly, he's fantastic! I mean, he can be a bit full of himself and there are those infuriating times and sometimes he does this thing where he'll look at you like you're an absolutely idiot and half the things he says go right over your head but…" she bit her lip and sighed again. "It's brilliant."

"Maybe I'll get to meet him someday,"

Martha's eyes sparkled a bit, "Tell you what," she said, "If we can save the world, I'll make sure the Doctor makes a special stop just to see you."

Molly ducked her head a bit, "Martha, that's not necessary,"

"Of course it is!" Martha said, "With all you're doing out here, helping sick people, helping me… I'll make sure you get to meet the Doctor."

Molly smiled and shook her head, convinced Martha would forget the promise before the world was saved. Not that she doubted that Martha would help the Doctor save the world. She'd never seen someone so determined to do something in her entire life and if her stories about the Doctor were true then she knew that they would be alright. Someday.

~/.\~

A/N: And another chapter down. Amelia's dead! Yaaaay! *fireworks shoot off* I have to thank my friend Beronica for sparking the idea of Amelia dearest being a witch. Her death was probably the most fun thing I wrote for this chapter and I know that sounds bad but… whatever.

Hey, look, Jules is awake! Let's focus on that… ;)

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to review!