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: *winces* Let's just not talk about how long it's been since I updated and get on with the chapter, eh? All I have to say is: finals are here, people suck and I had to force myself to sit down and write this. All I really want to do is be lazy, but I refuse to leave a story for so long and I promise I won't make you wait so long ever again. Forgive me.

Thanks for the reviews!

Hope you enjoy!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Sixteen

They didn't return to Sacramento until nearly sunrise. Everyone was exhausted as they stumbled into the safe house, Van Pelt quiet and leaning into Rigsby. Her face was red and streaked from her tears. She had been quiet the entire ride back to the safe house. Everyone had. Even Jane hadn't said much and what he did say was just to make sure that Lisbon was alright.

Grace Holloway had waited for them, with Henry Spencer. The two had spent much of the day talking – trading stories and discussing Juliet and her condition. Henry had taken a liking to the younger woman, she had even managed to make him laugh a few times when she elaborated more on her story about the Doctor and what he was like. It had taken his mind off of everything else that was going on.

As soon as they got back, Lassiter went directly over to where Juliet was. She was asleep and Shawn was sitting on the floor beside her, his hand loosely gripped in her own. His head rested against the edge of the couch, snoring lightly.

"How is she?" he asked immediately, putting a hand to her head. It was a bit warm and he frowned, turning to face Dr. Holloway.

"She's fine," Dr. Holloway said quietly, "She woke up a few hours ago. She's got a low fever, but other than that she's doing better than expected. She ate and kept it down and she's been sleeping soundly."

She glanced around the ragged looking group, spotting Lisbon and smiling in relief, "So you did find her!" Her eyes fell on Van Pelt and Rigsby then and her smile fell. "…Where's Craig?"

Rigsby shook his head, "He didn't make it," he said quietly. Van Pelt let out a little sound and he quietly led her away, whispering to her that it was going to be okay. At least he'd died quickly and hadn't been ripped to shreds by the knives.

Dr. Holloway looked down, "At least… at least you were able to find Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon felt that same twinge of guilt again at their grief. She hadn't known O'Laughlin, but he died rescuing her and these people had known him and clearly liked him. If they hadn't been trying to save her, he'd still be alive. Jane seemed to sense what she was thinking because he took her by the arm and shook his head.

"He could've died any way," he said, "these are dangerous times, Lisbon. People die like that every single day and it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. Don't."

She smiled half-heartedly at him and nodded, "Okay, Jane," she said, her voice tight as she looked around. The safe house was small, but there seemed to be a decent amount of people here. Jane had told her that there were a lot of agents and cops mostly and she wondered how many of them she knew. She tried not to think about the people she knew who hadn't made it through the Decimation. Instead she cleared her throat and shook her head to order her thoughts.

"It's late," she said quietly, "I think we should all get some rest,"

"That's a good idea," Henry agreed, nodding, "You all look exhausted." He looked pointedly at Lassiter and the cop frowned, about to protest until Dr. Holloway nodded in agreement.

"You should," she said, "We can talk more in the morning when everyone is better rested."

They all nodded slowly and Jane took Lisbon by the arm, leading her to the back where the adults slept, "This way," Jane said quietly, "I'll show you where you can sleep…"

~/.\~

"Hold still," Dean grunted as Sam grimaced. He held his brother's arm tightly in his hand. "Alright. Ready?"

Sam clenched his eyes shut tight and nodded stiffly, "Yeah, just get it over with…"

Dean nodded and took a breath to steady himself. With a swift jerk he popped Sam's shoulder back in place ignoring the pained "ARGH!" that Sam let out. He let go of Sam's arm and grinned a bit, shaking his head and patting him on the back roughly.

"There ya go, Little Brother,"

Adam and Henricksen watched the exchange with curiosity. Clearly, this was something that the Winchesters had done before. Often, in fact. As Sam tested his shoulder, grimacing and biting back another groan and stood. Sam didn't know how long they'd driven after leaving the barn, but Dean had gone until he absolutely had to stop and they were inside the city now, in an old apartment building in a condemned area. It was safe enough for the moment at least.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked Henricksen. The older man grimaced. He was banged up good, but breathing and able to walk. They discovered he'd sprained his ankle getting out of the car and Dean was sure he had a concussion, but he was resilient.

"I'm good…" Henricksen said, talking between teeth. His neck ached, his shoulders screamed and his chest felt like he had knives inside of it, but he didn't care because he was alive and he felt damn lucky to be that way.

"Break any ribs?"

"Probably," Henricksen rolled his shoulders and reached up with his left hand to tug at the buttons on his ragged looking shirt. It was a slow and painful process, but the shirt fell away to reveal a bruised and battered chest and stomach. The bruises stood out against his dark skin, looking faintly red and purple and moving in a nasty pattern across his ribcage.

Dean grunted and nodded, "Definitely got some broken ribs," he said, meeting the agent's eyes, "Lucky that's all though…"

Henricksen laughed and then groaned as the movement sent a shard of pain through him, "Don't I know it…"

"What about you, Adam?" Sam asked, "You alright?"

Adam hadn't said much since coming to again. He shrugged, "Head hurts," he said, "I think I broke my arm…" he lifted his left arm and it hung at an awkward angle. Sam was certain it was broken, but Adam was still quiet. "Maybe bruised some ribs. I'll be fine."

"You don't have to suck it in, Adam," Sam said, "She was a powerful witch. We're all lucky we got out of there alive."

Dean nodded, "Freaking witches," he muttered. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Dean,"

"What?" Dean scowled, "I hate witches, Man. You know it. They're disgusting, with their freaking blood spells and throwing their fluids around everywhere. It's unsanitary."

Sam laughed, but the movement hurt his chest. He would be surprised if he didn't have any broken ribs himself. They were definitely going to have to take it easy for a while. "Whatever," he said. "We need to lay low for a while, in case Meg tries to follow us. We should put Devil's Traps at the doors. And we need bandages…" he eyed Dean's bloody face. He'd broken his nose and both he and Dean had gotten some nasty cuts fighting Meg.

"We'll get something tonight," Dean nodded, leaning against a wall and closing his eyes, "I don't wanna move right now."

Sam nodded, "Yeah," he said, then, suddenly, he patted his pockets, "Shit. We haven't checked in with Ash yet."

"Damn…" Dean groaned, "The phone's in the duffle…" he lifted his hand without opening his eyes, "You call in. Tell him we're out of commission for now…"

~/.\~

It was late in the day and they had spent much of their time talking back and forth with the "hunters" with Dr. Badass. Abby was getting tired, but they were exchanging information and this was important. It was the first contact they had been able to make and they were excited to be able to make it. As they told the hunters about Ducky's story about the Master, the hunters told them what they knew.

Apparently, electricity could down a Toclafane. It was about the only real weakness that they had managed to uncover thus far, but it was something.

"We need to get the word out," Fornell said, "We need to find electric weapons. Tasers, stun guns, whatever's still usable. The more Toclafane we can take out the easier thing's will be."

"Yeah, but we can't take 'em all out," Tony said, frowning, "There are too many of them for us to stand any real chance. Especially with those laser weapons."

Gibbs frowned, leaning down over Abby's chair and looking at the screen. He had no idea how she and Garcia had managed to do whatever they were doing on the computer and the words on the screen were gibberish to his eyes. Dr. Badass insisted on writing in a code and Gibbs had to admit, that was smart of him. They knew their network wasn't exactly secure. Archangel had control over most satellites and anything could be picked up by the Master. The harder it was for him to figure out what they were talking about, the better.

"It's something," Gibbs said, "and we're going to use it. Even if we can't take all of them out, it still gives us an edge we didn't have before."

"If it's all we've got," Morgan nodded, "We've got to use it."

"We're going to have a hard time finding Tasers or stun guns, though," Reid said, "Any weapons that weren't hidden were confiscated by the Master and it seems unlikely that anyone would save those types of guns."

"There has to be some out there somewhere," Abby said, "I think we have a couple at least. It's a start, right? So we can fight those round little monster balls."

Gibbs smiled, putting a hand on Abby's shoulder, "You got that right,"

She nodded and turned back to the computer. They hadn't heard from Dr. Badass in almost an hour. But they'd already told each other their stories. There wasn't much left to tell and neither had been able to crack Archangel yet. Dr. Badass had mentioned a couple of other hackers he'd stumbled across, but he hadn't been in contact with them yet. He promised to let them know if he ever learned anything from either of them.

"What do you think he meant by hunters?" Abby asked.

"He sounded like he knew what he was doing," Hotch said, "Like they have military training."

"Yeah, but why not say that instead of 'hunters'?" Abby frowned, "I kind of doubt they mean the shooting Bambi sort of hunting…"

"Probably not," McGee agreed, "but what other kind of hunting is there?"

They were quiet for a long moment before Gibbs frowned, "You could always ask…"

"That is so true!" Abby said, turning to Garcia, who smiled a little and nodded.

"Already on it," she said, her fingers moving over the keyboard so fast that they nearly blurred. Abby grinned brightly at her and turned to look up at Gibbs again with wide eyes.

"I really like her," she said, "Whenever we fix all of this, can we get her to help me in the lab?"

Gibbs smiled, but shook his head, "I think Garcia's team might want to keep her for themselves…"

Abby sighed, glancing at Hotch, "Fine," she said, "but when we stop the Master I am so suing you for custody."

Garcia chuckled, "Sorry, Abby, but I can't leave my babies. I'll come visit you if you come visit me though."

"Ooh, I like that idea!" Abby nodded, "That's a deal!"

~/.\~

"Strange," Castiel observed aloud while watching the Winchesters. "They have suffered immense physical damage and yet they are still so… hopeful. Humans are oddly resilient."

"Resilient," his brother's voice behind him didn't startle him. "or simply too stupid to recognize a fruitless struggle when they see it."

Castiel didn't argue. He knew better than to argue with Michael. The archangel moved until he was standing right next to Castiel. He slowly turned to face Michael, trying not to let his anxiousness show. Michael rarely bothered talking directly to the seraphim. Castiel always imagined that Michael thought himself better than they were. He was supposed to be the commander of the Heavenly Host, but Michael was nearly as elusive as their father at times. If Castiel had been human, he might have found that frustrating, but that was simply the way of the archangels, most of the time.

"Fruitless?" Castiel asked, "You're speaking about their decision to destroy the Master, yes?"

Michael nodded, not bothering to look at Castiel. He kept his eyes on the Winchesters. "Of course. They seek to kill him and they won't be able to."

Castiel frowned, "Should we –"

"No," Michael said, abruptly turning to face Castiel. "We will not interfere. That's why I'm here, Castiel. You have made multiple trips to Earth. You know we are not permitted to take human vessels at this time."

Castiel nodded, "I know," he said, "You have already made that very clear."

"Good," Michael nodded. "I know you're… concerned about what is going on below, but I assure you that it is nothing to us. It will not affect our Father's plan."

"But –"

"It's not our concern," Michael repeated, stressing the words pointedly. "The humans will survive this, Castiel. It is not the End. Not yet. And it is not our place to interfere in their affairs."

Castiel fought not to argue again, nodding, "Of course," he said.

Michael nodded, "See to it that you and your garrison stay in Heaven. No more trips below, Castiel. I'll be watching."

He was gone and Castiel felt that strange tightness inside of him leave. He turned his attention back to the Winchesters and tried to forget Michael's words.

~/.\~

The plan was about to be set in motion. The Doctor was confident that it would throw the Master off, at least for a while. They just had to make it look real enough. The first essential tool they needed, of course, was the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. The Master kept that away from the Doctor, locked inside his private quarters. Reid had seen it in there and he was sure that they could get it if they could get inside the bedroom. That was the one difficult part, of course.

They had managed to get a guard to pass along the message that Spencer has hastily scrawled to Jack and the Joneses about the escape attempt, but it wasn't going to be easy to get someone to risk going into the Master's private quarters. They had no idea how they were going to do.

Spencer had suggested making the Master angry enough to take him back there again. He felt sick just thinking of it, but if it would help them, he would do it. The Doctor vehemently refused to allow that, telling Spencer that if anyone were to sacrifice themselves it would be him.

It wasn't until late the following night that they got Jack's reply – with a suggestion for how they could get to the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor thought it was unnecessarily risky, but Spencer thought it had a chance and the Doctor reluctantly agreed that it was really the best idea they had had so far.

"We have to do something," Spencer insisted, "sitting around and thinking about it isn't going to get us any closer to escaping."

"Alright," the Doctor nodded, "but we have to approach this delicately, Spencer," he eyed the young man up and down anxiously. He was pale and bruised and his eyes had that haunted, horrified look in them that made the Doctor feel a bit sick. "I don't want you to suffer for this."

"I'll be fine," Spencer said, "it's her we should be worrying about…"

It took longer than they had thought, but eventually Lucy Saxon did enter the conference room, unaccompanied by her husband. She was as thin and pale as she had been previously, but she moved a little more stiffly and the Doctor thought her empty eyes seemed to be sadder than usual. She said nothing, bending down to check their shackles. Just as she was about to stand, the Doctor snatched her wrists and noticed that she winced at the action.

He looked down and noticed, under her long sleeves, that her wrists were bruises. He frowned and looked back up, meeting her eyes.

"Lucy…" he whispered, his voice rough, "we need your help…"

He whispered to Lucy what they wanted her to do. She never broke eye contact, her eyes sad and wide as they stared into his. Reid watched the entire exchange, noting her facial expression. It never changed from the flat, serene nothingness that it usually was. Spencer was beginning to wonder if Lucy Saxon even remembered how to smile at all.

After the Doctor was finished, he took a breath and added, "Please, Lucy," he said, "You must know what a monster he is…"

She said nothing and then looked down, jerking her hand away from the Doctor. She stood and smoothed out her skirt, not looking back at them.

"Harold will by tonight," she said, her voice empty, "his mood hasn't improved. He won't be gentle."

And that was it. She turned, heels clicking as she walked away. The door shut loudly, an ominous boom in the quiet room.

"Well… we tried…"

Several hours late, in the dead of the night, after the Master had retired for the night and the Valiant was silent, Spencer was woken by the sound of the door shutting with the same loud boom. Squinting in the darkness, he shook the Doctor awake when he caught sight of Lucy Saxon. She was in a white nightdress; it was fancy and expressive looking. Her blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, shining in the dim light.

Spencer thought she looked like an angel, except her expression was as dead as ever and her eyes were far too sad.

In her hands she held the small silver screwdriver. Without a word, she pressed it into the Doctor's hands and turned, padding away, her bare feet making no sound on the hard floors.

~/.\~

A/N: I know this was short… This chapter feels mostly filler to me. Not a lot happened, but things are in motion. Next chapter: the escape attempt, more communication between our hackers, some new characters and other action. I just had to write SOMETHING for you guys to read.

I hope you enjoyed it! Please, please review! Your thoughts mean the world to me! Just a few words is all I'm asking guys.