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: As always, thanks for the reviews! You guys are amazing! This chapter isn't quite what I had planned – it's almost half the length it was supposed to be. Unfortunately, it doesn't resolve the subplots of the escape or Alistair; sorry! I've had a stomach bug the last few days and yesterday was just insanely busy so I didn't get much writing time. I did however manage to at least outline everything that was supposed to come up in this chapter and wrote the first half of it, so that's what I'm posting now. Hopefully that means that I'll have the rest finished and posted by next week instead of the week after next. So it's only slightly bad news, I think.

Anyway, hope you enjoy! And please don't forget to review!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Forty

Dean and Adam reached San Antonio before their trio of assistants could, but Dean had decided to err on the side of caution (for once) and they were holed up in an abandoned motel room just past the city limits. Even without electricity or running water, the place was familiar to Dean. He'd spent most of his life in run-down motels or squatting in abandoned houses.

Adam watched in interest as Dean fiddled with the wiring for several minutes before there was a sudden buzz and a spark.

"Fuck!" Dean jerked back, shaking his hand where he'd been zapped, but he was smiling smugly anyway. The lamp flickered to life and the television that was surprisingly intact did as well. The overhead lights were all busted though so the room was dim and yellow.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Adam asked.

Dean straightened up and plopped down on one of the beds – there was only one mattress and a chair that appeared to have been shredded. Neither of them mentioned the dark stains that were likely blood.

"My – I mean, uh, Dad," Dean said. "Spent a lot of time in places where the power'd been cut. Not that hard to turn it back on if there's still some juice in there."

Adam was staring at Dean the same way that Sam sometimes did, right before he launched into some speech or apology or something. The last thing Dean wanted was another monologue about emotions or whatever.

"You had a shitty childhood, didn't you?" Adam asked.

Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Don't start feeling sorry for me, Kid. It wasn't all bad and I don't need your pity."

Adam made a face and goddamn it, if he didn't remind Dean of Sam so much right then. Sam would probably be better at this than he was, too. Dean stood and walked over to the television, fiddling with the buttons until he had adjusted the channel and volume right.

Suddenly Adam was right there by his side and he moved away again.

"For what it's worth… I'm sorry Dad didn't treat you and Sam the same as me. I always hated that he – well, I used to wish that he was around more, but that was better than what he did to you two."

Dean's shoulders slumped and turned to look at Adam seriously. "You don't owe me an apology, Kid. It's not your fault, alright? Besides, I was a dick to you. I should be apologizing."

Adam smirked, "I figured that was just who you were,"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Had a rough year," he said. "I mean, before all this alien dictator shit." He paused and frowned. "God, I'd kill for a drink right now."

Dean looked like he was on the verge of tears and he was so tired of holding everything in, but there was no way he was about to have some kind of emotional breakdown in front of his recently discovered kid-brother. He scowled and mentally shook himself. Adam wasn't his kid-brother, Sam was. Adam was just this kid who happened to be his brother. Maybe that would change when he got to know him better, but no one was ever going to be more important than Sam.

Adam perched on the edge of the ratty mattress and stared down at his hands. "Maybe you're right," he said. "Dad couldn't have been all bad if he was half-decent with me."

Dean could feel him watching him and he smirked, but shook his head. "No. I'm not doing that whole 'bond over memories of our dad' thing. Sorry, definitely not in the mood."

"We have to talk sometime, Dean," Adam pointed out. Dean snorted.

"Or we could just sit here and enjoy the silence,"

"We've been enjoying the silence since we left. Look, you're my brother. I know you're not thrilled about that, but I want to get to know you. I don't expect you to just accept me because I'm blood. I'd still like to be your friend."

Dean stared at him for a second and shook his head. "You're way to freaking mature for a seventeen year old."

Adam smiled.

Dean huffed, "Alright, fine. We can talk. But not about Dad." He didn't even talk to Sam about their dad, he wasn't about to talk to Adam about him.

"Deal," Adam said. "So what about hunting? You've got to have stories about that. Sam was telling me some stuff before. What's it like?"

Dean hesitated, but that was a much easier topic. He'd told hunting stories to plenty of people. Of course, they were usually other hunters, but Adam wasn't exactly a civilian anymore. He thought for a moment about jobs he'd worked – mostly with Sam – and tried to find one that wasn't too bleak. He smiled and leaned forward after a moment.

"Okay. You ever heard of a tulpa?"

Adam shook his head and Dean launched into the story, feeling a bit at ease. In the back of his mind, he wondered where Sam was and if he was still alive. He'd find out by the morning, one way or another.

~/.\~

Martha shook out her hair and rolled her stiff shoulders, thinking about what she wouldn't give for Gabriel to drop in and heal her. But she was sure he was doing something important somewhere else and her minor aches weren't going to stop her from doing what she needed to do.

She glanced up at the sky. It was dark and dotted with stars; the moon was hidden by clouds at the moment. She wasn't even sure where in Africa she was at the moment; she had only just arrived earlier that afternoon and had yet to ask.

Feeling exposed standing outside, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and squeezed herself closer to the old building. It was dark and empty inside, far on the outskirts of whatever small village she was in. She hadn't been waiting long when she spotted the dark outline of an old SUV coming up on the horizon. The lights were off and they were driving at a crawling pace. It took nearly five minutes for it to reach her.

Martha held her breath and clutched the Vortex Manipulator, ready to bolt if it was any of the Master's soldiers. Her shoulders dropped and she sighed, a faint smile on her face, when Kate Stewart stepped out and met her eyes, smiling.

"Martha! I was worried you wouldn't make it," Kate greeted her with a short hug and introduced her to two young UNIT officers who were climbing out of the SUV behind her. "I heard about an accident in one of the factories near here."

Martha's face turned stony and she nodded seriously. "There was an explosion. Accidental, as far as I can tell. The Master seems furious enough to send more soldiers this way."

Kate made a face. "As if more guns are going to prevent accidents," she shook her head. Martha realized how tired the other woman looked – her face was tight and pale and littered with cuts. She had a bandage over her right eye and she was holding herself stiffly.

"What about you?" Martha asked. "You look like you've been through a lot lately."

Kate shrugged, "Nature of the rebellion," she said. "Just a few scrapes, really. Farther south there was a small revolt in one of the weapons factories. Ten people escaped with our help." She paused and clenched her fists. "Three died."

Martha put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure you did your best, Kate. Besides, at least you're helping people. I feel so useless just wandering around talking at people."

Kate smiled brightly then and shook her head, "Don't be silly," she said. "You're bringing them hope, Martha. That's the most important thing there is. You're what's connecting us all." Her eyes twinkled for a moment. "And your name certainly is going around. People are talking about you like you're a legend."

Sighing, Martha shook her head. "I'm not though. That's the point; the Doctor is the one whose supposed to be getting out there. We need them to know about him. If they're so busy focusing on me –"

"Martha, calm down," Kate said. "They are hearing what you have to say about him. They're talking about you because… well, because you're the one brave enough to defy the Master by telling them the story."

Martha still looked a bit worried, but she nodded. "Well, we should probably get to work. The airport is about thirty miles out and we need to get there before sunrise to get the weapons installed. You're sure they work?"

Kate's smile was suddenly sharp and all teeth, "They've been working in the UK and over in the US. We're trying to move out farther. Some of the people overseas are talking about moving into Mexico and Canada to put more weapons in. The farther spread they are, the better."

"Alright then, let's get moving. The less Toclafane we have to deal with, the happier I'll be."

~/.\~

Gabriel felt a small bit of pride when he caught two Toclafane in his hands and a second later they dropped like lead. He had been systematically – and slowly – killing Toclafane. He wished he could do it faster, but it wasn't actually as easy as it looked. He had to find them and then he had to catch them. Finding them was the easy part; catching them was not. He was annoyed to find that he could just will them dead without contact. Calling a lightning storm to massacre them would probably be too much though.

Whatever metal they were made of, it somehow kept him from touching the warped minds within. He couldn't hear their thoughts – if they had any – and he had to touch them to kill them. It was an annoying setback.

He paused when he heard and then felt his brother suddenly appear behind him.

"Gabriel, I have to speak with you immediately."

Gabriel turned to see Castiel frowning at him. He seemed frustrated. Then again, Castiel always seemed frustrated by something.

"What's up, Doc?"

Castiel's frown deepened. "My name is Castiel, Gabriel, I –"

"I know your name," Gabriel said. "It's an expression. From – never mind. What is it?"

"Sam Winchester and Jake Talley have been taken by the demon Azazel. They are being tortured by Alistair as we speak. Balthazar attempted to free them, but Zachariah stopped him. We must get them to safety, but I cannot risk –"

"Okay, okay, slow down. Sam and Jake were kidnapped by demons? And they're being tortured?"

"Yes."

Gabriel frowned. That was bad in every way possible. "Where are they?"

"San Antonio. Balthazar explained that Dean and their half-brother are there trying to rescue them as well."

"Good. I'll take care of this. Try and give me a heads up if Zach catches on."

Both angels promptly vanished, the faint sound of fluttering wings the only evidence that they had even been there at all.

~/.\~

The Master swept back into the room some time later – Reid wasn't sure how long it had been. Long enough for him to stop shaking and not long enough for the knot in his stomach to loosen. The Master had an imperious look on his face as the doors shut behind him. He was alone, but that was less of a comfort, especially with Lassiter's body, cold by then, sitting stiffly where it had been left.

Eyes roving over Lassiter, the Master sneered a bit before turning to face Reid. He smiled brightly at him where he was sitting against the wall with his knees up to his chest. With quick, light steps the Master made his way over to him and sat down on the floor next to him. Reid shifted uncomfortably and felt his gut twist.

An arm suddenly slid around his shoulders and Reid felt sick. He knew better than to pull away though, and sat perfectly still.

"Now," the Master sounded utterly cheerful. It was revolting. "You've had a lot of time to think things over. I even gave you some alone time with the corpse to nudge you in the right direction, Spencer. All I want is for you to tell me who helped you and where they are. That's not asking much, is it?"

Reid pressed his lips together and grimaced when the Master leaned closer.

"I can keep doing this," he said. "He wasn't the only prisoner onboard. And I can easily get someone from below if that doesn't work. I will keep killing as many of these useless, pathetic people as I can – and you will watch."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, feeling something starting to crack.

"No?" The Master didn't sound surprised. But he didn't leave. He leaned closer and said, offhandedly, "You know, there are so many children down there right now. They're not really very useful to me. Perhaps I should gather them and get rid of them. I mean, they're really just getting in the way right now –"

"Stop!" Reid stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. Children? Really? How could the Master seriously threaten to murder children so casually?

The Master's eyes gleamed. "You really don't have many options here," he said. "Either you tell me what I want to know, or more people start dying. You can save a handful of people and be responsible for the deaths of hundreds, or –"

"Please," he closed his eyes again.

"If you want to stop me, you have to talk to me," the Master said.

Reid's breath was shaky. He blinked slowly a few times, his eyes hot with tears. He stared down at his hands and felt a hard lump in his throat when he spoke, whispering hoarsely. "Sarah Jane Smith."

The Master tilted his head, "Sorry, I didn't catch that, Spencer."

Jaw clenching, Reid pressed his head against his knees and repeated himself, louder this time. "Sarah Jane Smith," he said. "She's who helped me."

If the Master had smiled any wide, he would have cracked his face right open.

~/.\~

Michelle could feel her heart beating against her ribs. It was late and the Master was still speaking with Spencer Reid, so that gave her a small window of time to move. She had to move before anyone suspected anything and stopped her. Part of her couldn't help but think that it had been easier before, when she had other allies to help her.

Still, she quietly walked down to Director Sheppard's cell and found the other woman sitting rigidly on her seat. As soon as she spotted Michelle she leapt to her feet and made her way to the bars.

"We're going to have move fast," Michelle said, keeping her voice down. Since the last escape, he's been obsessive about security. Even with fewer guards onboard, we're going to be noticed the moment I open your cell. With any luck, they'll assume I'm working under orders, but it's slim. They'll definitely be onto us when we hit the main deck, likely before."

Cautiously, Michelle slipped her hand inside her jacket, first pulling out the small key she had been given before going on her shift. Deftly, she slid it into the lock and stepped back as the cell opened.

Jenny was quick to step out, "Were you able to get a weapon?" she asked.

Michelle smiled. That part had been the hardest thing to get, but it wasn't as if there were an under abundance of guns on the ship. They might not have many below, the Master made sure that his army was well-stocked. She slipped her hand back into her jacket and removed a small handgun. Jenny's fingers closed around the warm metal and she felt instantly safer with it.

"Let's get moving," she said. "You said we didn't have much time."

~/.\~

A/N: Again, sorry this wasn't exactly what I promised. I really wanted to have those two subplots finished, but life is really a bitch sometimes. But again, since I've got the outline finished I should hopefully have the next chapter up faster!

And yes, the tulpa is the one Sam and Dean hunted when they first ran into Ed and Harry. Not only was that a relatively light episode, but GHOSTFACERS. After "#Thinman" I had to.