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: So. Um. Apparently "reasonable time-frame" translated to "nearly a year-long hiatus". Oops. I am so sorry, guys. I just. Real life, writers' block. Things have been stressful, I've been sick, family issues, money issues. Just. I cannot even begin to explain it all. I am just so tired of everything.

But I'm back now. And hopefully I can get this last part finished in a faster time-frame than before. I'm making no promises though because I am just so exhausted mentally and emotionally right now. I don't know.

Onto part V!

(Also, one quick note: originally, when I started planning this story, I said that this part would be titled "The Kids Are Alright". However, KMW1968 suggested that the title might not fit very well with this part—she suggested the title "Aftermath" which I admit does fit better. After some thought, I decided to change the title to encompass the trauma and recovery that the characters suffered in "The Year of Hell" and hopefully this is more appropriate—"The Long Road Home".)

(Also, also, be aware that I had much more planned for this part than what you guys are probably going to get. I am trying not to skimp on quality, but I have a feeling that this is still going to end up being more summarization than I had originally intended. I apologize if that's disappointing, but at this point I just want this story finished.)

Armageddon:

Part V: The Long Road Home

Chapter One

For a while there was a deathly silence aboard the ship that had hosted freshly erased horrors for an entire year. No one knew what to say or how to react and it felt a bit like they were all in suspended animation as they watched the Doctor clutch the Master's body, staring down at him with a stunned sort of look on his face, as if he didn't quite believe that he was dead. Reid was unsure whether that was because of his tangled relationship with the other Time Lord or if it was because he was simply the only connection—aside from the TARDIS—that the Doctor had to his home.

Finally, after what may have been hours or merely the space of a heartbeat, Reid stepped forward and put a gentle hand on the Doctor's shoulder, squeezing slightly in what he hoped was reassurance, comfort. At this point his head was such a mess that he honestly didn't know anymore. In any case, the Doctor looked up at him and it seemed as if the spell was broken; things began happening very quickly after that.

"We need to—move the body," the Doctor said, his voice still raspy and rough. "Clean up. Get moving."

Jack and the Doctor took care of the body while Kate secured Lucy, who had not said a word since the Master had breathed his last defiant breath. She was smiling faintly and her eyes looked less dead than they had over the last year, but Reid could still see the numbness in her every movement as Kate gently cuffed her hands together.

"What will you do with her?" Reid asked quietly as Martha ushered her family and the other survivors into helping her clean up—gathering the remains of K-9 for Sarah Jane and the Doctor to repair later and doing their best to erase any evidence of their presence. Sherlock seemed particularly interested in studying K-9 and was talking to Sarah Jane in a quiet voice with a surprising amount of wide-eyed interest.

Kate glanced at the young woman and shook her head. "Take her to one of our bases, probably within the city. There isn't much we can do, formally, of course."

Reid pressed his lips together, nodding. It unnerved him a bit, the way Lucy didn't react to being talked about as if she wasn't even there.

"She doesn't deserve to be locked up forever, rotting in some cell. This last year has been punishment enough," he insisted.

"Of course," Kate agreed readily. "But," she looked at Lucy, at her blank stare and small smile. "She needs help. Caring for. We'll do the best we can to get her functioning again. UNIT has some wonderful psychiatrists…" There was a small bit of hesitation before she looked around at the rest of their ragged little grouping.

"I have a feeling we could all make use of them,"

Reid bristled a bit at the idea of needing to see a psychiatrist, probably an ingrained response to years of fearing for his own mental health and watching his mother deteriorate. God, his mother. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to call her and made a mental note to do so as soon as he got a chance. He nodded slowly, though he was fairly certain he would not be talking to any stranger about this nightmare.

"I'm sure we could," he agreed. "This is… not going to be easy to get over." His eyes found Martha, watching her family closely. Her mother and father's empty, broken eyes and Tish's jumpiness were evident and he could see Martha barely holding herself back from dragging them all off of the ship immediately.

He watched as Kate led Lucy away, wondering what would become of her. Would she ever fully recover? Could she manage to put this Hell behind her and eventually become a whole person again? Could any of them?

It really shouldn't have surprised Reid to realize that the rest of the world was in turmoil even after the Year of Hell had been reversed. The British Prime Minister had assassinated the President of the United States on live television, with the assistance of alien lifeforms. There was truly no way to hide what had happened.

Kate and Jack handled most of the governmental lash back, the matter quickly becoming a UNIT priority. The Doctor even agreed to assist and Reid ended up tagging along after Martha's family was given their own rooms in the TARDIS for the time being. Sarah Jane disappeared quickly, eager to get home and check on her son, promising to help with matters once she once again had access to Mr. Smith.

The UNIT base was cold and military, making Reid hug his arms close to his side. He stayed close to the Doctor and Martha and said very little while everyone else discussed what to do. Sherlock had opted to stick around for the time being, very eager to see the inside of a UNIT base and learn the agency's ins and outs.

Martha was watching the live news coverage on one of the monitors when her family's faces suddenly flashed on the screen and her eyes widened.

"Oh no!" she gasped. "I'd forgotten about this! My family—Saxon told everyone that we were terrorists!"

"Don't worry," Kate said, placing a hand on Martha's shoulder. "I've already contacted a friend of mine. He was skeptical of all of this even before the assassination. He'll be able to help, I'm sure."

"A friend?" Sherlock suddenly leaned closer to their conversation. "Mycroft Holmes?"

"Your brother?" Martha asked, blinking.

"Yes, the very one," Kate said. "I'm sure you know he's got tremendous influence in the government and political world, especially here. He'll be able to clear this mess up for your family, Martha. I've got every faith in him."

Sherlock scoffed a bit, but there was a strange look in his eyes. Reid remembered learning at some point that Sherlock's brother had been killed very early on in the Decimation and wondered if he were thinking about the fact that he was now alive again. He'd certainly been giving thought to similar matters—his team, his mother, they were all still alive and though by the time he saw them again it would be 2011 and several years would have passed, it still made him feel oddly warm at the thought that they had managed to survive this nightmare.

The day had been a long one by the time they finally returned to the TARDIS—well, Reid, Martha, Jack and the Doctor at any rate. Kate stayed at UNIT headquarters and Sherlock vanished not long after the sun had set below the horizon without so much as a goodbye, not that anyone had really expected one from the detective.

They found the rest of Martha's family—aside from her brother Leo who Martha had yet to track down—gathered in the kitchen, Tish apparently teaching Francine how to prepare some dish that she'd learned from a coworker back before the Decimation. Martha paused in the entrance and watched them all for a moment, her father carefully putting a hand at the small of her mother's back, Fran keeping cautious eyes on Tish as she demonstrated for her, Tish smiling softly and barely talking above a whisper. Reid imagined it was a weight off of her shoulders to see them all together and safe after everything that she must have seen during the Master's broadcasts.

Jack and Martha entered the kitchen beaming.

"Something smells delicious!" Jack said, immediately moving toward the cabinets where dishes were kept. "I bet we're all starving." They were beginning the plate the food when the Doctor finally spoke up.

"Um, nothing for me, thanks," he said. "Not much of an appetite."

Reid watched him turn and leave and frowned. He glanced back at the worried faces of the others and met Martha's eyes. "I'll be right back," he said quickly before following the Doctor quietly. He found him back in the console room, running his fingers gently over the columns with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Pressing his lips together, Reid sighed. "Doctor?"

The Doctor blinked and turned, forcing a smile when he spotted him. "Oh, Spencer," he said. "Thought you were eating with everyone else."

"Are you alright?"

"Of course, yes. Perfect. Everything's better now, right?"

Reid eased closer and came to stand beside the Doctor, fighting the urge to put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't possibly be okay. None of us are, not right now." He watched the Doctor's face and tried to find any sign that his words were getting through to him. His shoulder's dropped just a bit and Reid finally did reach up and put a gentle hand there.

"You don't need to hide it from us, you know," Reid said. "We were all there too."

The Doctor was quiet for a moment and then turned to face Reid, shaking his head. "You were all there because of me," he said softly. "If I hadn't dragged you and Martha—"

"You didn't drag us anywhere," Reid interrupted him. "We wanted to go. No one blames you for anything that happened. It wasn't your fault, Doctor. None of it. Please don't add this to your conscience. You don't deserve to carry around the weight of this tragedy as well."

The Doctor didn't look entirely convinced, but he just nodded tiredly and Reid didn't feel like arguing with him about it. He moved his hand from the Doctor's shoulder to his hand, twisting their fingers together.

"We haven't eaten all day," he said. "I know you must be hungry." He started to pull him toward the kitchen again and the Doctor went with him reluctantly.

He didn't eat much, but at least he made some attempt. Reid knew that it was going to be a long time before any of them were anywhere near healed, but at least it was a start. He looked around at Martha and her family, at Jack, the Doctor. He found himself wishing that they could all just stay here and not ever have to face the outside world again, pretend that it didn't exist. It would be all too easy to run away from it all; he could understand the appeal.

But he thought about his team, his mother, about the rest of the world that was still reeling from the shock of the presidential assassination. About Jack's teammates and Martha's broken family, about Sarah Jane Smith. All the people out there going on with their lives now, most of them unaware of the hell they had managed to escape.

It was going to be a long recovery, but they were all safe, they were all free. It was over.

Zachariah watched with distant eyes as Castiel vanished from his post, frowning. He made to stop the rebellious angel's rescue attempt when Michael shook his head. He frowned.

"Shouldn't we do something?"

"Let him have this," Michael said pensively. "The timelines are restored. No one else will remember this past year. The plan is still in motions. We've got more important things to consider at the moment." He paused and tilted his head. "Besides. Castiel's rebellious nature may prove useful when we eventually begin dealing with the Winchesters in person. Let's not discourage it too much for the time being."

Zachariah nodded, but was still uncertain about this decision. Surely stopped Castiel and sending him for another trip to Naomi would be beneficial? Keep Heaven moving the way that it was meant to…? But Michael was the boss and his word was law so he kept his mouth shut and didn't argue.

And he did have a point. They had their own apocalypse to plan for.

"Damn it!" Azazel threw his arm out, causing the contents of the desk to fly across the room. The crossroads demon in front of him barely flinched, watching with passive eyes.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "since the timelines have been erased we lost quite a lot of souls from this past year and we'll have to work harder to claim even half as many as the Master's lovely dystopia allowed us to."

"And we lost Dean Winchester!"

"We can't hold him to a deal he never made, yes,"

"You made the deal!" Azazel accused. "You're supposed to be the King of the Crossroads. It is your job to make sure that people can't weasel out of their deals, Crowley."

"All due respect," Crowley said calmly, "Winchester didn't 'weasel out' of anything. The deal is void. It never happened. It's only a minor setback, I can assure you. That boy is itching to sell his soul. He'll make another deal. In the meantime, you still have Daddy Dearest locked down tight."

Azazel's eyes burned into the other demons. "For your sake I hope you're right, Crowley. We need Dean Winchester in Hell before we can start mobilizing like we really want to."

Crowley nodded and vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Azazel to fume in private. Losing so much revenue form the past year was infuriating, but they could recover souls. But having to see Dean Winchester slip from their grasp right when they had him… That would take some finagling to fix. Crowley was right though; those Winchesters were practically lining themselves up to be on the hook. It wouldn't take much to get him back. Just some time and a little creativity. He could manage that.

Reid woke up later that night after trying fitfully to sleep for hours. He wandered from his room back to the console and sat down the seat, staring down at the glowing screens and lights. He could still hear screams, still smell blood. It seemed to have seeped into his very bones, the Master's laugh echoing in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and pressed his forehead to his knees, trying to focus his breathing.

It's over, it's over, it's over.

He repeated the words in his head like a mantra, trying to convince himself that he was safe. It was so much easier during the day, surrounded by everyone else. The pain and the horror of the last year felt distant and disconnected from himself. Here, late at night, it felt pressed close and tight, consuming him.

He was sure that he was on the verge of a panic attack when he heard soft footsteps and looked up to see Martha entering the room, cell phone in hand.

"Spencer? What are you doing up?"

He shrugged and stared ahead at the lights. "Nightmares," he said quietly. "You?"

"I—I got a call from Kate. Mycroft found Leo. She's keep him safe while they work out the terrorism charges. I was going to bring him back here tomorrow," She sat down next to Reid on the bench and hesitated before gently pulling him closer.

"…Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully

He started to shake his head, but then he thought of the Doctor and their earlier conversation. He couldn't start shutting people and emotions out. It would probably kill him.

"I just… I keep telling myself that it's over. He's dead and gone and not going to hurt us anymore. But. I can't get it out of my head. The last year, the torture, the fear. I want to believe it's really over, but it feels like he's hiding behind every wall. Waiting. And I can't…" He choked up and Martha hugged him gently.

"It's okay. It is over, Spencer." She laughed, but it didn't have any humor in it. "We did it. We're all safe, the world, the universe is safe. I think it's still going to feel like a warzone to us for a while, but… But God, I hope that feeling will pass." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I still can't believe it either. Seeing them all, my family. The Doctor. You. It's like a dream. I keep expecting to wake up in some broken down safehouse, surrounded by hollowed out people who barely know what hope is anymore…"

She took a deep breath. "But it's over and we won. All that's left now is for us to move on. Heal. Recover."

He nodded but said nothing. They stayed like that for a long time, staring at the glowing screens and letting the TARDIS noises lull them back to sleep together on the bench, both of them still trying convince themselves that the nightmare really had ended.

A/N: So. Yeah, I don't even know what to say. I hope this was worth the ridiculous wait. I'm so sorry that it took so long.

One more quick note: originally I had planned for there to be three chapters in this part, but I'm thinking that there will only be one more… I was going to do so much more, but like I said, I am so tired, and I just really want to finish this story.

Please review!