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: Oh gosh, you guys, I am so, so sorry for the long wait! I realized last night that I'd never posted the temporary hiatus notice on this! I swear I never meant to leave you all hanging for so long without any notice! I was very busy, still am actually, and I knew it would take me a while to get to this. I could've sworn I'd posted the note saying it would be on hiatus for a while, but apparently I just imagined that. So sorry!

Anyway, let's start Part IV now. I cannot believe we're actually here. We're finally winding down!

Also, please be aware that there are going to be some changes in Part IV that don't line up exactly with the episode "Last of the Time Lords". Mostly minor things, but if you recall, I have moved the discovery of what the Toclafane are to much, much earlier in the year so that will cause some changes, among other minor things that will be tweaked. It's not entirely AU, but it also isn't 100% canon compliant either. Just a warning.

Armageddon:

Part IV: The Last of the Time Lords

Chapter One

It was hours after John had been taken that Sherlock and Kate heard the sound of heavy footsteps finally returning. Two sets of them, both wearing heavy workbooks, both taller than John and neither suffering from the limp John had acquired after his injury during their escape in Cardiff. Sherlock tensed and glared openly at the two guards as they delivered them their nightly meals.

"Where's Dr. Watson?" Kate demanded from the cell across from his. Sherlock didn't bother asking; he knew. He knew that John had been executed and—unexpectedly—felt his own blood rushing at the news. It pounded against his temples and drowned out the guard's answer. It was a surprisingly visceral and emotional reaction. He wasn't entirely sure how to handle it, but he knew that he wanted, more than anything, to kill the Master.

He'd never felt such a rush of hatred and rage and contempt. Not even Anderson had evoked such emotion in him. Not even Mycroft, or his unfortunate death.

In spite of the shocking rush of endorphins and adrenaline, Sherlock sat entirely still. His knuckles were white where he'd tightened his hands into fists and he stared the guards down coldly as they retreated. He said nothing. He didn't move to take the meal. He merely sat there, breathing heavier than was normal, and imagined what he would do if he had the chance to kill the Master right then, impossibility and practicality be damned. In that moment, he understood the Americans' desperate, belligerent bloodlust.

He'd thought himself above such ridiculous and senseless feelings, but apparently he had misjudged himself. His far more logical mind told him that he wouldn't ever be able to take his vengeance, but still he entertained the idea with more fervor than he had ever expected from himself.

~/.\~

Donna felt a pit in her stomach as she watched the sun set. It had been an agonizing wait. Tosh and Ianto hadn't moved from the computer once, hoping desperately to hear from Sarah Jane or Kate. No word had come from either of them and now the sky outside was grey and dark. Clouds were moving in over the moon, making the night sky even darker than usual.

"We can wait a few more hours…" Wilf suggested hesitantly.

"She told us to leave straight away," Tosh pointed out, a line appearing between her eyes as she followed Donna's gaze out the window.

"We can't just abandon her though," Ianto said. "…Can we? I mean…"

"She knows where we are," Donna said. "If she was caught there could be men heading here right this second…" Her voice cracked and she didn't turn around to face the others. She didn't want to leave. None of them did. Not without Sarah Jane and K-9 and Kate. But it was too risky to keep staying. If the Master had found them… She grimaced, not wanting to think about it.

"We should start packing. Only the essentials. Quickly. We'll have to leave on foot."

Her voice warbled a bit, but she held it together better than Donna would. Donna doubted she'd have been able to give such an order anyway. She wasn't trained to handle this sort of thing like Toshiko and Ianto were. She didn't want to set aside her guilt to do what was best for everyone; she wanted to stay, she wanted to go out and find Sarah Jane and bring her back safely.

"Donna," Wilf put a hand on his granddaughter's shoulder. "C'mon. There's nothing we can do from here. We'll find them, or Martha will." He paused for a moment, his fingers squeezing gently. "This'll be over soon enough."

Donna smiled faintly, and it felt surprisingly hopeful given the sickening hole in her gut. She put her hand over Wilf's and nodded.

"Alright. Better hurry then. She said we wouldn't have much time…"

~/.\~

It was night when Martha pulled up to the shore, squinting against the flashing signal of the lantern. She couldn't see the man's face, but she hoped it was Tom Milligan, the man who could take her to meet Docherty. She'd never spoken to him face-to-face; most of their communication had been through Kate originally.

She wrapped her arms around herself as the boat came to a slow stop, the engine's growl dying away. She glanced at her two companions—UNIT officers who'd taken her on her final leg of her journey back to Britain.

They each saluted her.

"Godspeed, Miss Jones," one of them said.

She smiled faintly, feeling a bit uncomfortable. She nodded. "Thank you," she said, her voice surprisingly hard. Taking one more deep breath, she jumped out of the boat and waded her way the last few feet to shore. She didn't turn around as the boat's engine revved up again and the noise slowly faded into the night.

The man on shore approached her slowly, lowering the light so as not to blind her.

"And you are?" she asked, her lips pressed together.

"Tom Milligan," he said. "Good to finally meet you, Miss Jones." He dipped his head in greeting. He wasn't much older than her, though a good deal taller. He was a scruffy looking kid, really. The thought gave her a moment's pause. She wasn't more than a kid herself, not really, but she'd somehow taken to looking at everyone else as though she were someone much older, much more experienced. …Much less innocent.

"How long's it been since you were in Britain?" Milligan asked, glancing down at her as they walked quickly. Martha resisted the urge to cross her arms and shiver; it was cold on the beach, especially with breeze and the water soaking into her jeans.

"365 days," Martha said. "It's been a long year."

Tom nodded once, curtly. "So what's the plan?"

"This Professor Docherty, I need to see her," Martha said. "Can you get me to there?" Kate had been sure of it. Milligan had been confident he could, but Martha still felt that niggling of worry. They were down to the wire. They couldn't afford any mistakes, not now.

Milligan nodded again. "She works at a repair shed, Nuclear Plan Seven. I can get you inside." He hesitated for a moment. "What's this all for? What's so important about her?"

Martha didn't look at him, pressing her lips together tightly. Kate hadn't briefed Milligan on the "weapon" that Docherty was holding. Very few people, outside of UNIT and military contacts, knew about the weapon. They wanted the Master to think they were actually trying to keep the information under wraps… though hopefully not too under wraps.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "The more you know, the more you're at risk."

"There's a lot of people depending on you," Milligan said, watching her now for her reaction. "You're a bit of legend."

Martha smirked, feeling an incredulous laugh trying to bubble up. She was not a legend, not hardly. "And what does the legend say?" she asked, unable to keep the humor out of her voice.

Milligan cocked his head to the side. "That you sailed the Atlantic, walked across America, that you were the only person to get out of Japan alive…" His eyes lit on her then, and she looked away, a bard of guilt slamming into her chest.

"'Martha Jones', they say, 'she's gonna save the world'."

Martha's jaw twitched and she looked down, watching as the sand beneath their feet slowly made way for sparse grass.

"Bit late for that…" Milligan muttered.

They were coming up to a decent sized transport vehicle and Martha cleared her throat, desperately wanting to change the subject. She eyed it with interest and looked up at him.

"How come you can drive? Don't you get stopped?" Anyone seen operating a car was thoroughly checked. If they didn't have their papers in order they were arrested on the spot, sometimes executed depending on exactly who they were and how close they were to a factory.

"Medical staff," Milligan said. "Used to be in pediatrics in the old days…" he sounded wistful for a moment. "But that gives me a license to travel so I can help out at the labor camps."

Ah, that made sense. Martha had met a few other doctors in her time traveling. As long as they cooperated they were given rights to move more freely than most. She couldn't help the little smile that spread across her face.

"Great. I'm traveling with a doctor…"

She suddenly miss the Doctor so much that it hurt and she shook the thoughts from her mind. She had a job to do and more important things to worry about than her feelings. She climbed into the passenger side of the truck and settled into the seat.

Milligan looked over at her and watched her face again as he spoke. "Story goes… that you're the only person on Earth that can kill him."

Martha's gut tightened again as she thought about the Doctor's very strict "no killing" rule, thought about all the people on this planet who rightfully wanted the Master dead. She couldn't blame them, but it wasn't part of the plan. She was always afraid of telling them that.

"That you and you alone can kill the Master stone dead." He was smiling now, just faintly, and Martha shifted uncomfortable, keeping her eyes straight ahead for a moment. She had to gather her frayed nerves and forced the sick feeling in her stomach down.

She fixed Milligan with a hard stare.

"Let's just drive," she said. Then she turned and stared resolutely forward, not turning her head or saying a word. Milligan watched her for a second longer before starting up the truck and taking off across the uneven terrain.

~/.\~

The Master was in a ridiculously good moon that morning. It made the Doctor feel a bit ill just watching it. He knew, of course, that the time was fast approaching. The countdown would begin very soon and the Master's plans were about to come to fruition. Of course he was in a good mood. Workers and soldiers moved around them, going about their usual business, but the Master blared the radio and danced around the room like an excited child.

The Scissor Sisters were playing the song "I Can't Decide" and the Doctor found it ridiculously appropriate. Now that the end was nigh, the Master would have to think about whether or not he wanted to keep all of his precious prisoners. He wouldn't have much need for most of them once he had achieved his universal war and domination.

The way he watched Lucy though, that was worrying. The woman had always been a bit absent, but she was positively vacant now—a shell of a person. She was all dressed up in a bright red dress and her hair was swept neatly away from her pretty face. She looked like a doll, her eyes glassy and her skin pale.

The Master grabbed her hand and twirled her into his arms, kissing her fiercely. She didn't fight it, didn't move away. She just closed her eyes and let it happen. That poor woman had been utterly shattered by him. When he let her go she stumbled away like she was in a drunken stupor and her eyes never seemed lock on anything.

The Master didn't bother watching her, instead jumping into his chair and spinning around gleefully. He picked up his glass of tea and took a sip before his entire expression soured. The Doctor felt his chest tighten at the dark look that crossed the other Time Lord's featured. He poured the entire drink out and tossed the cut to the floor, wiping his mouth in disgust, before launching himself from the chair and grabbing the large brass bell he had taken to using these last couple of weeks.

Gently, the Doctor untangled Spencer from him—the young man was still asleep, his eyes dark and bruised, his knees curled up to his chest as he rested his head on the Doctor. He stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

"Wh—"

"Shh," the Doctor whispered. "It's alright."

He moved away from Spencer, away from their tiny little spot on the wall, and out toward the Master, his eyes bright with defiance. The song still blared in the background. He forced himself to his feet, his body still ridiculously week. He hadn't slept in days, not being allowed to do so. He swayed a bit on his feet and nearly toppled over as the Master moved at a remarkable pace to grab him by the lapels on his worn and dirty suit.

He look him right in the eyes, fierce and full of hate. The Doctor didn't flinch, staring right back at him as he was dragged closer and the Master sang along, loudly, with the lyrics.

"Oh I could burry you alive, but you might crawl out with a knife! And kill me when I'm sleeping, that's why…" He shoved the Doctor into a chair and pushed him roughly around the room, leaning down and continuing to sing the lyrics directly into the Doctor's ear. "I can't decide whether you should live or die. Oh you'll probably go to Heaven, please don't hang you head and cry!"

He was laughing then, the song continuing on as he spun the chair around in circles, his laughter nearly drowned out by the music. He was in a painfully good mood; the Doctor bore it all in silence, knowing that a reaction was what the Master wanted. At least he was tormenting him and not Francine, or Tish, or Spencer, or Clive, or Jack or Sherlock. Or any of the prisoners who were being held in the cells. The Doctor had no idea how many there were, or who they were.

The Master pushed the chair up to one of the viewports and wrapped his arm around the Doctor's shoulders.

"It's ready to rise, Doctor," he said eagerly. "The new Time Lord Empire. It's good, isn't it? Isn't it good?"

The Doctor kept his face blank, staring out the window at the Toclafane buzzing by. The Master frowned.

"Anything?" he demanded, waving his hand in front of his face. "No? Anything?"

The Doctor remained silent, refusing to give him the reaction he was looking for. They'd had this conversation before; the Doctor knew where it was leading. The Master never seemed to want to miss a chance to remind him of exactly what he had done.

"Oh, but they broke your heart, didn't they? Those Toclafane? Knowing what they really are…" A smile twisted on his lips and turned to look the Doctor in the eye again, gleeful in a far more sinister way.

"They say Martha Jones has come back home…" He cocked his head to the side. "Now why would she do that?"

The Doctor felt a spark of protective anger well up inside of him. "Leave her alone,"

"What did you tell her, Doctor?" he demanded. "What is she doing?"

"I have one thing to say to you," the Doctor said, never breaking eye contact. "You know what it is."

The Master's face soured and he stood abruptly. "Oh no you don't!" he said, shoving the chair away. He moved to the center of the room again, ignoring the Doctor and barking orders. They had 24 hours until D-Day. One more day before it would all be over, or it would be destroyed. They had to keep the Master's attention off of Martha long enough for her to finish her job.

The Doctor glanced sideways at Fran from where she was wiping tables down and surreptitiously put his hand on his leg, splaying three fingers for her to see. She moved by him as if she hadn't noticed, but he knew she'd seen and would spread the message.

One more last big distraction before the end was all they needed. One more last bang in order to keep the Master's mind busy elsewhere before they took his whole empire and crumbled it to the ground.

~/.\~

A/N: I know, I know. It's a bit short, but it's something! Next chapter we get the "distraction", Martha meets Docherty, and the Doctor finds out about Sarah Jane and Kate—the Master has been saving them.

See you next time! Hopefully within the next couple of weeks! Thanks for being patient with me!