Title: Armageddon

Rating: T

Warnings: Thanks so much, as always, for the reviews! You guys are amazing and I love you!

Finals are over, I passed all my classes and I am free—for the next few months at least! So I'm going to try to update a bit faster. Once a week, maybe. (Hopefully). I think I can manage it. I'm still going to be posting on Wednesdays, so just look out for the chapters then!

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

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Forty-Four

Eight months down, Martha mentally crossed off another day, four more to go. She was currently inside the Nyala Airport in Sudan, peeking around a corner with a handful of UNIT soldiers. She had already helped them to build the weapons that they had been installing throughout Africa—and around the world—and it was time to begin implanting them.

The airport had remained in use by the Master's soldiers even after the Decimation, which posed a small problem with actually getting in and out. It was guarded and crawling with people. Though it wasn't a very large airport, there were several planes and even a couple of helicopters and airships from the Valiant sitting out. It didn't help that there was very little cover outside—it was all open space and surrounded by the gold desert sand.

Martha and the UNIT men and women were dressed in the same heavy, black uniforms as the Master's men, carrying weapons as close as they could get to theirs. Martha kept her head down as much as possible and tried to look like she belonged, but it was not easy to fake being a solider—at least the UNIT soldiers had experience in behaving that way. They'd given her as many tips as they could and made sure to keep her in their midst so that she didn't stick out, but she felt like there was a neon sign over her head that was altering everyone to the fact that she didn't belong.

The man behind her reached up and put a hand on her shoulder briefly, squeezing.

"It's alright, Miss Jones," he whispered. "You're doing wonderfully."

She smiled a bit, glancing back and nodding her thanks. Forcing herself to breathe steadily, Martha moved forward as the group began to march. They'd carried the weapon in parts and were going to assemble it once they got inside. All of them had separate parts in the black bags slung over their shoulders. They were heavy, but nothing that they weren't used to already.

The inside of the terminal was surprisingly empty—it felt strange to walk inside and see so few people milling about. The little group continued forward, working from a map of the area that they had all memorized, and made their way back toward the gates. Martha's heart pounded as they passed a few patrolling guards, but they merely nodded or grunted in greeting and moved on. It seemed that the Master's soldiers didn't do friendly communication often. It was good for them that the Master frequently sent out new men without warning. They all got used to new faces and not making friends.

Once they reached they reached the gates, they had to work quickly. No one spoke as they pulled their bags off their backs and opened them, sorting out the parts of the weapon and their tools. Two men quickly began grabbing parts and piecing it together. The entire area felt tense and Martha felt the urge to hold her breath so as not to disturb them.

No matter how many times she saw this happen, she still got nervous. The Master had been systematically locating and dismantling what weapons he could find, but they simply created and implanted more of them in more discreet locations. He still hadn't found all of them and she was certain that he was growing frustrated with the loss of his Toclafane. It had hardly put a dent in their numbers, of course, but it was enough of a hit that the rebel groups were beginning to believe they could stand a chance.

He was, of course, growing more concerned about finding her than he was the weapons. With four months to go before his weapons of universal destruction went online, he was wary of anything getting in the way of it and she was certain he was hearing very loud whispers about her and her plan to destroy him.

Four months… It didn't sound like much in her head, but she still had to make it through South America and North America, not to mention that she still had a few more weeks before she left Africa. But then… Then she would be back in the UK. She would return to London. She could feel it tantalizingly close and she couldn't wait to go home. To see her family in person again.

She hoped they would still be with Sarah Jane and Donna. She hoped they would at least be able to stay free. She didn't want them to be anywhere near that ship when she finally had to go back to it. They deserved to be safe.

"I think it's ready," a UNIT woman's voice snapped Martha back to the present and she blinked. The weapon—which they really should come up with a name for—wasn't overly large and looked very much like a metal detector. It was thrumming slightly with electricity and she smiled.

"Alright then," she said. "Now for the really tricky part—getting out before they realize what we did."

~/.\~

Two months with Donna Nobel and her grandfather had appeared to lighten the Joneses moods greatly—not that they hadn't been getting better before, but after Dr. Reid's recapture Sarah Jane had noticed that the tension had returned in them and the nightmares as well.

Donna didn't let them feel fear, she put them to work—Tish, Luke, and Francine helping Wilf with the children and Clive and Sarah Jane helping her with the communications and weapons.

Sarah Jane had decided almost immediately that she liked Donna. She was bold and honest and she could smile as bright as the sun even with the world around her going to pieces. She radiated hope and rebellion and even Sarah Jane found herself more optimistic in her presence.

"I think that's probably my biggest regret," Donna was saying. Sarah Jane was trying to fix their computer, which had overheated a few days before, and was directing K-9 to assist her. She glanced up from where she was and raised a brow.

"What is?"

"Saying no to him," Donna said, leaning against the table to watch while they worked, her arms folded over her chest. "I think it about all the time… things I missed. What I could've done if I'd just said that I'd go with him."

Sarah Jane smiled fondly, reflecting on her own memories of the Doctor and her life with him. The life before seemed incredibly dull in comparison.

"What made you say no?" she asked curiously, watching Donna's face.

"Dunno," she frowned. "I was scared, I suppose. I mean, think about it: some madman whisks you away from your wedding day and suddenly there are aliens and spaceships and monsters…" she trailed off. "It's a lot to think about. Seemed insane. For the longest time I kept thinking I would wake up and it would be a dream…"

Sarah Jane nodded thoughtfully. "That's how I felt, after he left me. Every day that passed made it all seem like more and more of dream. I'd wake up sometimes and think to myself 'today's the day the dream will end'. I tried to keep myself busy, but it was never the same. Not until he showed up again…"

That reunion had sparked something inside of her that hadn't gone away. She felt like she had rediscovered a part of herself that she had forgotten even existed and it had thrown her life into a beautiful sort of chaos. It felt like she was with him, sometimes.

"Well, I couldn't sit still," Donna said. "Being there. Feeling all of that excitement, all of it just rushing around so fast I could barely keep my head on. I figured I could feel something like it if I got out there and stopped sitting at home." She smiled at her and looked away, turning her gaze toward her grandfather, who was sitting with Tish and a small group of children, likely regaling them fantastic tales.

"I went to places I'd only ever imagined going before and it still didn't feel the same. It was fun, I'll grant you, at first… But not exciting." She sighed heavily. "Do you think he gives second chances? After all this over I think I could use a vacation from it all."

Sarah Jane smiled at her brightly. "I know he does," she assured her. "And if he offered you a chance, he'd be thrilled to let you come along again, I'm sure."

Donna looked wistful at that. Sarah Jane wondered what she was imagining in her mind—the heady rush of the adventure? The sound of her own feet tramping against the ground as her heart thudded in her chest? The wondrous feeling of stepping onto a world that wasn't her own? She could still feel those things herself, memories of a lifetime ago still carefully preserved in her mind.

"I must've been mad to turn him down," Donna finally spoke again, more to herself than to Sarah Jane. She laughed a bit. "'Course, he was definitely mad and I might not have known him long, but I could tell life with him wouldn't have been safe."

"It is a dangerous life," Sarah Jane agreed. "But so worth it, honestly. The adventure and the wonder… it all makes up for it." She smiled. "And you're never bored."

Donna laughed loudly at that, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, I could tell that just by the look of him. Man like that couldn't possibly stand to be bored."

Her laugh died away and she straightened up, shaking her head. "I wish I'd gone with him when I had the chance…" the words were more a whisper than anything, and heavier than Sarah Jane had expected. She started to say something, to comfort her, but Donna had already shaken the sad look from her face and was heading toward the group of kids with a bright grin on her face.

Sarah Jane sighed and turned her attention back to her work, her mind lost in another life, in another galaxy, with a madman and his time-traveling spaceship.

~/.\~

Charlie sank down into the chair next to Jessica and watched her with a faint smile. Jack Hotchner was asleep in her arms and she was humming to herself quietly, stroking his light hair.

"I've been meaning to ask…" Charlie hesitated. "He's not your son, is he?"

Jessica blinked, and looked at her, not having noticed her sit down at first. "No, he's my nephew," she whispered.

Charlie's brows scrunched together. She had spent the last months trying to get to know everyone—force of habit maybe, but she liked to know about the people she was with without prying too much.

"Is Hotch your brother then?"

"Brother-in-law," Jessica corrected her. "My sister Hailey was his mother…" For a second, Jessica wondered when it had become second-nature to say "was" rather than "is". She hadn't really noticed that she had come to terms with Hailey's death.

Charlie nodded and watched her with Jack for another long moment.

"He's so young," she said. "To lose his mom already…" she trailed off and bit her lip. Jack was very young, but she hadn't really been so much older when she'd lost her own parents. Father, she corrected herself. You still have Mom. Maybe… She doubted very much if her mother had survived the Decimation and the months after, but until she checked—and she wasn't sure she really wanted to—she couldn't be sure. She wasn't even sure if that hospital back in Kansas was still standing anymore.

"He is," Jessica sighed and Charlie nearly jumped. She hadn't expected her to say anything else. She was looking down at the little boy in her arms fondly and Charlie felt some part of her ache—not for a child, but for someone to still be around to look at her that way. She felt more like an orphan than she should considering she was adult now.

"Did you have children?" Jessica asked the question cautiously, clearly as wary of upsetting Charlie as Charlie was of upsetting her.

"Me? No." Charlie shook her head and smiled a bit. "I'm not really mother material anyway. Plus, way too young."

Jessica smiled a bit. "I always felt too young, too," she said. "Being an aunt was always good enough. …I'm glad I never had any children now. I'd hate for them to have to live through this."

Charlie pressed her lips together, nodding. This was horrible enough as an adult—and sometimes she didn't even feel like an adult. She wasn't even thirty. She was barely twenty. Even growing up as fast as she had, she still cling to childhood like a shield to protect her and she didn't want to let go of it just yet.

"You are very young though…" Jessica tilted her head. "I just realized. How old are you? Twenty-five?"

Charlie blinked. "Twenty," she said, pressing her lips together.

"God," Jessica shook her head. "You're just a kid, too."

Charlie shrugged. "Hey, I get by. Besides, I had to grow up fast. I can take care of myself."

"I guess that would come in handy the way things are now… Still. What about your family? Parents? Siblings? Boyfriend, maybe?" Jessica smiled a bit and Charlie couldn't help but return it.

"No family," she said. "And boyfriends aren't really my speed, if you know what I mean."

"Ah," Jessica smiled. "Girlfriend then?"

"Serious relationships and I don't do well," Charlie shrugged. "I guess I didn't really lose anyone except friends I barely knew."

Jessica frowned. "Sounds like a lonely life," she remarked.

"It was," Charlie said before she could stop herself. She looked down and fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a moment. "I—Well, in a way, you know, this has actually been a great experience. I haven't had so many friends since elementary school." She smiled a bit and it felt incredibly sheepish.

"That's looking on the bright side," Jessica smiled back at her.

"I like to keep things positive," Charlie said. "Or… as positive as they can be given the circumstances. Not gonna lie though—when an alien dictator first showed up I freaked. I thought I was losing my mind, or got trapped in a video game or something."

Jessica laughed. "It does seem ridiculous if you don't think about how horrible it is."

"I don't," Charlie said. "I can't. If I start thinking about that, I'll just freak myself out again and start panicking and it's a lot easier to remind myself that the heroes always beat the evil dictators. That's how it's supposed to work."

"Well then," Jessica said, "here's to hoping life functions on movie logic."

~/.\~

"Sherlock," Jack said through gritted teeth, "why are you hovering?" He felt like he was on the verge of a full mental-breakdown. The last couple of months had been wonderful back with Tosh and Ianto and meeting John and Sherlock and Jake. But Sherlock had an extremely annoying tendency to stand under him, watching everything he did and making odd little noises of judgment. He wasn't particularly shy about being vocal with his disagreement of Jack's decisions—any of Jack's decisions.

Sherlock stood just to his left, nearly touching him he was so close. "I'm not hovering," he said, keeping his eyes riveted to the computer screen where Jack was discussing potential upgrades and adjustments to the guns they had been using to take down Toclafane.

Jack turned to look at him, frowning. "It feels like your hovering."

"I'm merely observing your conversation," Sherlock said. "Shouldn't we all be privy to it? Considering it does concern everyone."

Jack blinked. "Do you not trust my judgment, Sherlock?" he demanded. "We're discussing the weapons' designs. I was planning on giving the specs to Tosh later."

"I never said I didn't trust your judgment, Captain," Sherlock said.

"You were very heavily implying it," Jack said. "I do know how to do my job, Sherlock. I'm very thankful for all that you've done, but I am more than capable of handling things from here."

"Mm, yes, I'm sure. I just wanted to point out that we usually did this sort of thing as a group."

Jack wanted to hit something. Probably Sherlock. He let out a huff of air through his nose and forced himself to stay calm. "Tosh and Jake are working on finishing another weapon and John and Ianto are on a food run. This way things get done faster. I get updated weapons plans to give to Tosh and things still get done."

Sherlock made a noncommittal noise and pressed his lips together. Jack could feel him wanting to say something to him. He wasn't usually one to hold back, so Jack savored the moment.

"Are you quite sure that you don't want me to go over the conversation in its entirety before you hand over any new plans to Toshiko? I would spot any mistypes and errors—"

"I got it covered, Sherlock, thanks," Jack bit off, turning his attention back to the computer. Sherlock didn't move, continuing to hover over his shoulder, reading. Jack sighed and shifted his stiff muscles, wondering how upset Sherlock would be if he forcibly pushed him away. It would probably be more trouble than it was worth.

He looked up and grinned when he heard familiar voices floating in—Jack and Ianto were back. He stood from where he was and moved into the living area, nearly bumping into Sherlock on his way and once more fighting not to snap at him.

Ianto smiled brightly when he saw Jack. "We're back!" he said, holding a duffle bag up that Jack assumed was full of their food for the next few weeks.

"Great," Jack said. "Got some news from Martha—they got another weapon in that airport in Sudan."

"Anything new from Donna?" John asked, sitting his own bag down on one of their rickety tables and unzipping.

Jack frowned and shook his head. "No, still nothing. Thinking about going into the city to see what's going on…"

"You don't think something happened to them, do you?" Ianto asked anxiously.

"Could be nothing," Jack said, "but the Master's men have been patrolling more heavily in the area. Anything could have happened." He sighed and tapped his fingers against his arms. "If we don't hear anything from them tomorrow I'm going to go into the city."

"That's incredibly risky," Sherlock said. "You just pointed out that there are heavy patrols in the area, if you're caught—"

"If I'm caught, I'm caught," Jack snapped. "Something could be very wrong with them and they're our allies. I'm checking on them."

The tension seemed to hang in the air and Sherlock scrutinized Jack carefully.

"If you're going to insist on risking such a wholly unnecessary mission you shouldn't do it alone."

Jack blinked and his arms dropped to his sides. "Are you suggesting going with me?"

"I'm suggesting that I know the city better than anyone. I can take make sure that we get there and avoid most of the heavy patrols, thereby significantly lowering our chances of be killed."

John smiled a bit and shook his head, "What do you know? Sherlock actually offered a diplomatic compromise."

Sherlock met his eyes and pressed his lips together. "I am capable of reaching compromises, John. This seems the most adequate solution to our dispute. And also, I can sense that the Captain here is not very pleased with me at the moment."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack nodded, feeling some of his irritation dissipate. "If we don't hear from them tomorrow morning, we head out."

~/.\~

A/N: So I don't hate this chapter and I actually enjoyed writing it and it even feels relatively lighthearted! That makes me happy. I hope it makes you guys happy as well. Things aren't going to be happy forever, but I really do enjoy writing the more hopeful and less angst-ridden scenes.

Please don't forget to review! Let me know what you thought!