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: Sorry again for the lateness! It's not *too* late at least. This chapter gave me all kinds of trouble, not to mention that I was gone for several days and then had family visiting and then had to go to the hospital (nothing major, thankfully). Still. Sorry. I tried, but this chapter refused to be written on time.

Also, it's been pointed out that I had Ash alive last chapter when he was killed off in the massacre a few chapters ago-my mistake. Ash is still dead, unfortunately. I've gone back and edited the chapter to take him out, but if you spot any references like that please let me know!

As always, thanks to everyone reading and thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Please don't forget to review!

Armageddon:

Part III: The Year of Hell

Chapter Fifty

Sherlock regarded the Master with an imperious look on his face and for just a moment, John thought that perhaps Sherlock Holmes was the bravest man alive.

"I have plenty of answers," Sherlock said, and his voice was unreasonably steady given their current situation. "Unfortunately I am doubtful about how many answers I can provide which would be useful to you."

The Master raised a brow and didn't seem upset by Sherlock's complete lack of terror—in fact John thought he seemed intrigued. It was better than furious, he supposed.

"I haven't even asked my questions yet and you're already telling me that you don't have the answers I want?"

"No," Sherlock frowned at him, giving him a look that John had come to recognize as one of his most patronizing and condescending. "I am telling you that my partner and I will not be providing you any information which you would find useful. If you wanted to know about the specific types of tobacco ash then I would be your man. Dr. Watson here would be the one to ask about any sort of violent injuries, particularly gunshot wounds. Neither of us, however, would be willing to give you information about any fugitives or their plans."

The Master kept smiling and blinked lazily at them. John remained silent for the moment, not sure what to say, but certain that he did not want to try to interrupt whatever was happening.

"I think you'll find that I can be very persuasive," the Master said.

"I've seen your methods of 'persuasion' and I'm not impressed," Sherlock said, sitting back in his seat and arching an eyebrow. John smirked slightly and had to force himself to suppress a laugh.

"He does have a point, you know," he said. "We didn't manage to survive this last year because we're frightened of a little bit of pain, or even death." He felt his heart beating about twelve times too fast—of course he was terrified of death—but he kept up a brave face anyway.

The Master let out a chuckle, still seeming to be more amused than anything. John didn't know how long that attitude would last once he spent enough time in Sherlock's company.

"I've found that a great deal of humans say that no amount of pain will break them," the Master said. "That is, until, they're actually in pain."

Sherlock gave the Master a steady look. "I can assure that we are both well acquainted with pain."

While that was true, John was beginning to think Sherlock was severely overestimating their abilities—or at least his own ability—to hold out under torture. He knew he could withstand the pain for a while, but every man had a break point and the Master seemed adept at finding them. He refused to let his fear show, however. There was no point in giving the Master fuel for his fire.

The Master simply watched them, eyes flicking between John and Sherlock.

"Pain doesn't even have to be involved if you're intelligent. Just tell me where you were hiding and who was hiding with you. I can promise a painless death." His eyes lingered on Sherlock for a long moment and he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to go out the way your brother did. Dreadful business." He made a show of shivering and John had to work hard to hide his shock—Sherlock had never mentioned a brother.

Sherlock seemed unfazed by the Master's taunt.

"If we're going to die anyway then there's no point in telling you anything, is there?" John asked.

The Master smiled brightly at them both. "You'll tell me one way or another," the Master said. "I'm merely leaving it up to you how much you suffer before I kill you. And trust me, you have never experience the pain that you will experience if you continue to be stubborn."

Neither Sherlock nor John said anything, merely staring at the Master with stony expressions. He sighed heavily, as if he were going to regret what he was about to do, and then stood.

"Don't say I didn't give you chance," he said, pressing his lips together in a mockery of sadness even as his eyes shone brightly with giddiness. John tensed and couldn't stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut as the Master approached them.

~/.\~

Arizona was dry and hot, but Martha had gotten used to the arid heat of desert communities. It was nothing compared to the deserts in the Middle East. She was just inside of Phoenix, where one of the Master's larger weapons' factories was located, and coming upon the location of the safe house where she was meant to meet up with the first of her American allies.

She crept over debris in one of the suburbs that had been deserted in the aftermath of the Decimation—glass from broken windows that had never been cleaned away, doors that were lying out in the streets, dead animals in the sidewalks and even a couple of broken and destroyed vehicles sitting in driveways and in the middle of the road, torn to shreds by Toclafane.

She was looking for a specific place, her eyes scanning the houses that were sad and empty looking. She felt like she was walking through a ghost town and expected any moment for angry and depressed spirits to come out and attack her, but none came. After a few minutes she spotted the sign—a tiny TARDIS painted on what was left of a lawn gnome lying on its side in front of one of the houses.

Looking at the place, it looked as deserted as the rest of them, but she made her way up the overgrown brick walkway and tapped on the door. There was no noise for several moments, but then the door was pulled open and she was greeted by the smiling faces of Juliet and Grace Holloway. Juliet immediately pulled her inside, hugging her as she did.

"Miss Jones!" Grace greeted her. "So glad you made it here safely."

"Martha, please," Martha said, smiling. "It was surprisingly easy. There don't seem to be a lot of Toclafane this far west outside of California."

"Too many people still living in California," Juliet said. "They need them out there."

"Not that there aren't plenty of them around here, especially at night, with the factory so close," Grace said. "We're lucky, they don't tend to come this far into the suburbs, but we get four or five buzzing through the streets every night doing sweeps."

"Bit risky, isn't it?" Martha asked. "Being so close to the factory?"

"Not by much," Juliet said. "We're close enough now to not need a car to go on food runs and we can get in contact with the people in the camps easier."

"It makes killing Toclafane easier as well, given how many are inside the city," Grace said. "We've got to be careful going into the city, but we managed to take out ten of them just last night."

"We take as many bodies as we can to avoid the men getting too suspicious," Juliet added.

They were leading her deeper into the house now. It wasn't a very large house, but it fit them comfortably enough. The kitchen was dark as they led her through it; the windows were boarded up and blacked out to keep anyone outside from seeing in. Gus was there, with Jane and Shawn, fixing lunch it seemed.

Juliet immediately went to Shawn's side to help him with opening packs of dried meats while Jane helped Gus cook a box of instant potatoes on a small Bunsen burner in a dented pot. Martha didn't stay in the kitchen long, trying not to think too much about how tired they all looked, before Grace led her down a narrow hall and into what must have been an office for the former owners of the house—the desk was still there, along with some photographs that were hanging lopsided on the walls and cracked. She looked away from those as quickly as possible.

Lisbon was there, sitting in front of the computer. She barely looked up when she heard them enter and then she smiled and stood once she spotted Martha.

"Martha!" She shook Martha's hand and Martha got the familiar sense of just how much everyone was counting on her to make this work. She felt slightly queasy at the feeling, but smiled anyway and greeted Lisbon with a smile.

"Got here a bit earlier than expected," Martha said.

"Good thing you did; the Toclafane are more active here at night," Lisbon said.

"So I've been told," Martha said. "And I hear you've been in contact with the people in work camps?"

"Not much, but enough to get familiar with them," Lisbon said. "We thought it would be helpful to try before sending you in there to talk to them. We haven't sent more than a couple at a time and didn't get to speak with them for long, but we've got a feel for everything in the city so it should be easy to get you in safely to tell them the plan and then get you back out."

Martha would never stop being amazed at the risk people took to make her job easier for her. She smiled gratefully and thanked them for it, but it never felt like enough. It wouldn't be enough until she managed to get back to London and end this entirely.

"We also though it might be a good idea to send someone with you," Grace said lightly. "Not for protection, but to help you convince them. Most of these people haven't heard of the Doctor outside f the Master's broadcasts, but they've heard of you and the trust us… Plus having someone else there to corroborate your story would be helpful."

Martha grinned. "That's right, you've met him before! That would be wonderful. It makes it much easier when I've got backup."

"Alright then," Lisbon grinned. "We'll go over the city layout tonight and you and Grace can go in tomorrow. But now… lunch. I'm sure you're hungry. Come on."

~/.\~

It was raining when Kate Lethbridge-Stewart arrived outside of their safe house. For the last week they had been sending out messages, trying to find Sherlock and John who were still missing. They feared the worst, but there had been no broadcast from the Master, not gleeful announcement of new prisoners or public executions. Whatever had happened, it remained a mystery.

Kate shook her hair out and greeted Jack with a grim smile and everyone else with a curt nod.

"Good to see you, Kate," Jack said.

"You ask well, Jack. I wish I came with better news."

"Then you've heard something about Sherlock and John?" Sarah Jane asked anxiously.

"Not exactly," Kate said, sighing. "We've heard rumors and whispers, but nothing has been confirmed. The day they disappeared from the city, the Master took two prisoners that matched their descriptions."

"But if the Master has them why wouldn't be have broadcast it?" Donna asked.

"We haven't seen a thing about either of them since they went missing," Jake pointed out.

Kate sat down and shook her head, looking tired and helpless for a moment. It was a look that did not suit her at all. "I'm only guessing, but if he does have them then chances are he either knows or suspects how close the rest of you are. He likely doesn't want to risk losing you, especially after that debacle a few months ago in the States."

"Well he isn't here yet so that means that he doesn't have our location," Tosh said.

"But all those Toclafane we've been seeing lately? He's getting close," Ianto pointed out.

"It's only been a week," Kate said. "If he's got them, he's trying to break them. He might already have and he's just biding his time and waiting it out. Maybe he's realized that he needs to be patient in order to get proper results."

"One thing is for sure," Jack said. "We can't stay here."

"No," Kate agreed. "You've got to get out of here as soon as possible. Whatever has happened to Sherlock and John, you can bet that the Master is behind it. He'll find you sooner or later if you stay here much longer."

"I hate leaving without knowing for sure what happened to them," Tosh said.

"It looks like we don't have a choice though," Clive pointed out. "If the Master has them then there isn't anything that we can do."

"Not right now at least," Jack said. He looked at Kate and sighed, shaking his head. "At least there's a possibility that they're still alive. If he has them and hasn't found us yet then they're holding out."

"Not for much longer though," Kate reminded him. "You don't have time to waste. You need to get out of here as quickly as possible."

~/.\~

A/N: Quick FYI: the Master's line about pain is pretty much entirely ripped-off from Nick Fury's line in The Avengers when Thor tells him that no amount of pain will make Loki talk and Fury replies that "most guys say that… until the pain starts".

Not sure about this chapter. It was difficult to write, like I said. I had other scenes and things that I wanted to include (like Martha going to the work camp and Jack and co. getting ready to leave) but it just would not happen. Damn it. I'm sorry. This chapter really frustrated me. Hopefully it's not terrible.

Don't forget to review!