AN: here ya go kids!

Chapter 7: The Family of Blood

He floundered, looking between his two friends where they were held captive. Jenny held her gun on Martha as Mr Clarke held his against Marion.

"Make your decision, Mister Smith."

Baines raised an eyebrow, eyes locked onto the panicked man.

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge."

Tucked away behind one of the buffet tables at the back of the room, Timothy Latimer took the strange watch from his pocket and opened it. A soft golden energy shimmered at the edges of the clock face, and the hostile group at the other end of the room snapped their heads to stare in his direction.

"It's him!"

He quickly shut the watch again. Taking advantage of their captors' distraction, Martha and Marion ducked away from their grip and grabbed their weapons. Martha desperately hoped that her hands weren't shaking as grabbed Jenny, using her as a shield as she aimed at Baines.

"All right! One more move and I shoot."

He didn't seem to be particularly intimidated by her. "Oh, the maid is full of fire."

"And you can shut up!"

She fired at the ceiling, and Mr Clarke shot his son a warning look - very glad that the girl he had grabbed hadn't done the same to him.

"Careful, Son of Mine. This is all for you so that you can live forever."

The younger man raised his own weapon. "Shoot you down."

"Try it." She sneered. "We'll die together."

"Would you really pull the trigger? Looks too scared."

"Scared and holding a gun's a good combination. Do you want to risk it?"

Next to her, Marion adjusted her grip on the gun. There was an odd look on her face - like she was uncomfortable with just how naturally the use of the weapon came to her.

"Unlike Martha, I find that I am not afraid. Oddly, I find that this weapon in my hands brings me a great deal of strength. So like Martha said, do you want to risk it?"

They seemed far more uncomfortable with her calm demeanour, and the remaining armed members lowered their guns. Martha glanced back over her shoulder.

"Doctor, get everyone out. There's a door at the side. It's over there. Go on. Do it, Mister Smith. I mean you."

By his side, Joan took control. "Do what she said. Everybody out, now. Don't argue, Mister Jackson. They're mad. That's all we need to know. Susan, Miss Cooper, outside, all of you."

The villagers ran screaming, flooding out of the back door. He moved to help her usher the last of them out, but lingered in the doorway once everyone was safe.

She turned again. "And you. Go on. Just shift."

He shook his head. "What about the two of you?"

Marion, gun steady, shot him a minute smile.

"Mister Smith, I think you should accompany Nurse Redfern back to the school. After all, Martha and I are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves. Aren't we?"

Martha nodded, and he reluctantly ducked outside.

The moment he stepped foot outside, he appealed to the few people remaining in the area.

"Mister Hicks, warn the village. Get everyone out. Latimer, get back to the school. Tell the headmaster-"

But as his hand landed on the young boy's shoulder, he pushed him away.

"Don't touch me. You're as bad as them."

And he sprinted away, leaving a bewildered John behind with a concerned-looking Nurse Redfern.

Inside, Jenny had managed to slip from Martha's grip and return to the other three creatures. Martha didn't waver. "Don't try anything. I'm warning you, or Sonny boy gets it."

Baines shot a look of mock pity at her. "She's almost brave, this one."

Jenny nodded. "I should have taken her form. Much more fun. So much spirit."

The four of them took a step forward, and she shifted back a little. Marion moved to be a little closer to her, the gun never leaving Baines' face.

"I will not pretend to understand exactly what has happened here. But I will not tolerate you speaking to my friend like that. Do you understand me?"

Mr Clarke stared at her, almost curious. "Such strength and fire. I wonder."

Not wanting them to figure out the truth, Martha interrupted his ruminations.

"What happened to Jenny? Is she gone?"

Jenny smirked. "She is consumed. Her body's mine."

"You mean she's dead."

"Yes. And she went with precious little dignity. All that screaming."

As she'd been taunting her, two scarecrows had crept up on the women from behind - and each grabbed one of them. Baines shouted.

"Get the gun!"

They fought back but eventually, the weapons slipped out of their hands, and Marion realised they were now too outnumbered to try and make a stand. She grabbed at Martha's hand, pulling her towards the door.

"Out, now!"

The two of them burst into the night, not entirely surprised to see John Smith still standing there. Martha rolled her eyes. "Don't just stand there, move! God, you're rubbish as a human. Come on!"

And they continued running, leaving him and Joan little choice but to follow.

Baines smiled coldly. "Ah, this is super. We've been in hiding for too long. This is sport!"

Jenny looked a little disappointed as she inhaled deeply.

"I can smell the schoolteacher. He's gone back to his academy."

"And what do we know about those women?"

She glowed faintly green for a moment. "This body has traces of memory. There's little about the science teacher. It must never have had any kind of contact with her. But the maid… this body was once her friend. Martha would go walking to the west. Husband of Mine, follow the maid's scent. Go to the west. Find out what she was keeping secret."

He nodded. "Soldiers!"

And he called the scarecrows to follow, leaving through the front of the village hall.

"As for you, Children of Mine, let's go to school."

The four of them darted through the front doors of the school. As soon as they were closed, John grabbed the bell and started ringing it with as much force as he could. Martha grabbed him by the wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Maybe one man can't fight them, but this school teaches us to stand together. Take arms! Take arms!"

"You can't do that!"

"You want me to fight, don't you? Take arms! Take arms!"

Marion shook her head. "John, you can't involve the boys, they're children!"

But it was too late - the first group of older boys had appeared at the top of the stairs.

"I say sir, what's the matter?"

"Enemy at the door, Hutchinson. Enemy at the door. Take arms!"

Loitering in the hedge line, the three Family members looked on - Baines with a grin.

"They're sounding the alarms."

Jenny tutted. "I wouldn't be so pleased, Son of Mine. These bodies are silly and hot. They can damage and die. That's why we need the Time Lords."

"Indeed. They will have guns. Perhaps a little caution." He glanced down at the girl. "Sister of Mine, you're such a small little thing. Find a way in and spy on them."

Inside, the weapons that the boys had been training with were being passed out; much to Martha's chagrin.

"You can't do this, Doctor. Mister Smith!"

He ignored her. "Maintain position over the stable yard. Faster now. That's it."

"They're just boys. You can't ask them to fight. They don't stand a chance."

"They're cadets, Miss Jones. They are trained to defend the King and all his citizens and properties."

The headmaster stormed around the corner, furious that his quiet evening had been disturbed.

"What in thunder's name is this? Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on?"

"Headmaster, I have to report the school is under attack."

"Really? Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private."

"No, I promise you, sir. I was in the village with Matron. It's Baines, sir. Jeremy Baines and Mister Clark from Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir. They've got guns. They've already murdered people in the village. I saw it happen."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Miss Thomas, is that so?"

"I'm afraid it's true, sir. Every last word."

"Murder on our own soil?"

Nurse Redfern nodded. "I saw it too, sir. Yes."

"Perhaps you did well then, Mister Smith. What makes you think the danger's coming here?"

He faltered for a moment. "Well, sir… they said…"

Marion cut in. "Baines threatened Mister Smith, sir. Said he'd follow him. We don't know why. He and his associates attempted to hold Miss Jones and I hostage in an attempt to get him to confess… something. None of us understood anything he was alluding to."

"Very well. You boys, remain on guard. Mister Snell, telephone for the police. Mister Philips, with me. We shall investigate."

Martha put herself between him and the door. "No! But it's not safe out there."

He scoffed. "Mister Smith, it seems your favourite servant is giving me advice. You will control her, sir."

And he and Mr Philips left, closing the door behind them.

She rounded on Marion. "You need to help me. There's something I have to find."

The ginger woman nodded. "Alright. I trust you." She pointed a warning finger at John. "I really think you should reconsider this. We do not need to involve the boys. Especially the younger ones."

And the two of them left, followed soon after by a thoughtful looking Nurse Redfern.

Mr Roscastle and Mr Philips came face to face with Baines and Jenny outside the school, the headmaster looking between the two of them with disgust.

"So. Baines and one of the cleaning staff. There's always a woman involved. Am I to gather that some practical joke has got out of hand?"

Baines' response was ice cold. "Headmaster, sir. Good evening, sir. Come to give me a caning, sir? Would you like that, sir?"

"Keep a civil tongue, boy."

Mr Philips put his hands out in a gesture of peace. "Now come on, everyone. I suspect alcohol has played its part in this. Let's all just calm down. And who are these friends of yours, Baines, in fancy dress?"

The boy smiled. "Do you like them, Mister Philips? I made them myself. I'm ever so good at science, sir. Look." And he turned to the nearest scarecrow, pulling the arm off with one swift move. "Molecular fringe animation fashioned in the shape of straw men. My own private army, sir. It's ever so good, sir."

Mr Roscastle eyed the boy with caution. "Baines, step apart from this company and come inside with me."

"No, sir. You, sir, you will send us Mister John Smith and Miss Marion Thomas. That's all we want, sir, Mister John Smith and Miss Marion Thomas and whatever they've done with their Time Lord consciousnesses. Then we'd be very happy to leave you alone."

"You speak with someone else's voice, Baines. Who might that be?"

"We are the Family of Blood."

"Mister Smith said there had been deaths."

"Yes, sir. And they were good, sir."

"Well, I warn you, the school is armed."

He scoffed. "All your little tin soldiers. But tell me, sir, will they thank you?"

"I don't understand."

"What do you know of history, sir? What do you know of next year?"

"You're not making sense, Baines."

"1914, sir. Because the Family has travelled far and wide looking for Mister Smith and, oh, the things we have seen. War is coming. In foreign fields, war of the whole wide world, with all your boys falling down in the mud. Do you think they will thank the man who taught them it was glorious?"

"Don't you forget, boy, I've been a soldier. I was in South Africa. I used my dead mates for sandbags. I fought with the butt of my rifle when the bullets ran out, and I would go back there tomorrow for King and Country!"

"Et cetera, et cetera." With one swift arm movement, Baines turned his gun on Mr Philips and vapourised the man in an instant.

"Run along, Headmaster. Run back to school. And send us the teachers!"

He got back inside as quickly as he could, fixing a glare on John the second he saw him.

"Mister Philips has been murdered, Mister Smith. Can you tell me why?"

"Honestly, sir, I have no idea. And the telephone line's been disconnected. We are on our own."

"If we have to make a fight of it, then make a fight we shall. Hutchinson, we'll build a barricade within the courtyards. Fortify the entrances, build our defences. Gentlemen, in the name of the King, we shall stand against them."

The boys on the stairs nodded, moving into action.

"Yes, sir!"

"Right, come on. Let's get moving."

"Hurry, get back."

"Barricade the kitchens. Secure the passageway to the stables."

Joan stood at the entrance to Mr Smith's study, watching anxiously as Martha and Marion turned the place upside down. She could hear bursts of conversation from the hall below.

"Sandbags to the north and west."

"-stables in case of-"

"Pemberton, load the spare magazines with bullets-"

"Quickly, now. Take the magazine cut-off out-"

Martha saw the look on her face and sighed.

"I know it sounds mad, but when the Doctor became human, he took the alien part of himself and he stored it inside the watch. It's not really a watch, it just looks like a watch."

She raised an eyebrow. "And alien means not from abroad, I take it."

"The man you call John Smith, he was born on another world. And…" Here she paused, making eye contact with Marion, who nodded. "And so was Marion. She's hiding herself too, in the same way. She's just a bit more aware of it than he is."

"A different species."

"Yeah."

"Then tell me. In this fairy tale, who are you?"

"Just a friend. Once, I maybe thought… but no. It's not me that he's meant to be with."

"And human, I take it?"

"Human. Don't worry. And more than that, I just don't follow him around. I'm training to be a doctor. Not an alien doctor, a proper doctor. A doctor of medicine."

She huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Well that certainly is nonsense. Women might train to be doctors, but hardly a skivvy and hardly one of your colour."

Marion whipped around from her search of the corner bookshelf, eyes blazing.

"How dare you! Whether you believe Martha's words or not - which, by the way, I very much do - you do not have the right to speak to her like that!"

The protective outburst was so much a part of her original character that Martha smiled softly, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"I can handle this, but thank you. You think I shouldn't be a doctor because of the colour of my skin? Well, what about the quality of my brain?. Bones of the hand. Carpal bones, proximal row. Scaphoid, lunate, triquetal, pisiform. Distal row. Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metacarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges. Proximal, middle, distal."

She looked shaken. "You read that in a book."

"Yes, to pass my exams. Can't you see this is true?"

"I must go."

"If we find that watch, then we can stop them."

"Those boys are going to fight. I might not be a doctor, but I'm still their nurse. They need me."
She turned on her heel and left the room.

Leaning heavily against the desk, Marion frowned.

"Martha?"

"Is it there?"

"No, but…" She trailed off, a hand rising to her throat. "This watch, it looks rather like my locket doesn't it?"

"Yes, just a bit bigger."

"So the assumption follows that this is important to me for the same reasons that the watch is important to him."

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure. I didn't see you change, but it looks similar enough in design that I made the connection."

"Alright." She took a deep breath. "So I wonder what would happen if-"

And she closed her hand tightly around the locket, brow furrowed a little. In the moment that followed, her whole body relaxed, and she grinned at Martha.

"Hi. I can't keep this up for long."

"Romana?"

"Yeah, just bleeding through at the edges. Are you alright?"

"Just about, yeah. But they've found us."

"I know, I-" She jerked her hand away like it had been burnt, rubbing at the centre of her palm. "I'm sorry, Martha, I felt like I had to let go. That was her, wasn't it?"

She nodded, taking her friend by the shoulders. "It's okay, don't be sorry. If you'd held on any longer they might have been able to detect it."

"She cares about you so much, I can feel it. And I can feel that the watch isn't here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Romana, she - her mind, in here, it's able to feel for his. The link is not very strong, but it's there. I - she - we would know if the watch was here."

Martha nodded. "Then we keep looking elsewhere. Come on."

Joan returned to the atrium, watching as the few remaining boys were given their orders. John stood calmly in the middle of it all - although his face shifted to an expression of concern when he saw her.

"You're with Armitage and Thwaites. They know the drill. Nurse Redfern, it's not safe here."

"I'm doing my duty, just as much as you. Fine evening this turned out to be."

"Yes, it was not quite as planned. Have you seen Marion, or Martha? Are they alright?"

She sighed internally - every hope she had ever had for a relationship between them was dying in the dust. He clearly only had eyes and thoughts for one woman. "Tell me about Nottingham."

"Sorry?"

"That's where you were brought up. Tell me about it."

"Well, it lies on the River Leen, its southern boundary following the course of the River Trent which flows from Stoke to the Humber."

"That sounds like an encyclopaedia. Where did you live?"

"Broadmoor Street. Adjacent to Hotley Terrace in the district of Radford Parade."

"But more that facts. When you were a child, where did you play? All those secret little places, the dens and hideaways that only a child knows? Tell me, John. Please tell me."

"How can you think that I'm not real? This Doctor sounds like some, some romantic lost prince. Would you rather that, for a friend?"

"No, that's not true. Never."

"Would you rather I lose a woman I care about for some ridiculous story?" Before she could answer, there was a shout from outside. "I've got to go."

"Martha and Marion were right about one thing, though. Those boys, they're children. John Smith wouldn't want them to fight, never mind the Doctor. The John Smith I was getting to know, he knows it's wrong, doesn't he?"

Mr Roscastle shouted from beyond the hall. "Mister Smith, if you please!"

He started across the room, looking back at her helplessly.

"What choice do I have?"

Out in the cold courtyard, Hutchinson had grabbed Latimer and put him to work with to the other boys."Get those bags piled up, filth. Going to mean the difference between life and death for us."

The younger boy shook his head. "Not for you and me."

"What are you babbling about?"

"We're going to battle together. We fight alongside. I've seen it. Not here, not now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you and I both survive this. And maybe, maybe I was given this watch so I could help. I'm sorry." And he ran, watch in hand, seeing the flickers of the vision cross his mind. Hutchinson bellowed after him.

"Latimer, you filthy coward!"

"Oh yes, sir. Every time."

He ducked back into the building, hiding in one of the corridors and crouching low. He pressed the watch against his forehead, thinking hard. "What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?"

The whispers from within became louder. "Beware."

"Beware of what?"

"Her."

He looked up, locking eyes with the little girl in the grubby pink dress. She sniffed, and he flinched.

"Keep away."

"Who are you?"

"I saw you at the dance. You were with that family. You're one of them."

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"What have you got there?"

"Nothing."

"Show me, little boy."

"I reckon whatever you are, you're still in the shape of a girl. How strong is she, do you think? Does she really want to see this?"

He aimed the watch at her, opening it for a fraction of a second. A stream of golden energy struck her, and the images that filled her mind made her cringe back in pain.

Outside, Baines and Jenny inhaled deeply, feeling the girl's pain.

"Time Lord."

"Inside the device."

"Everything he is concealed away in the hands of a schoolboy. But now we know, that's all we need to find. The boy and the watch. What are we waiting for? Attack!"

And the army of scarecrows descended on the school grounds.

As the scarecrows hammered at the gate, Mr Roscastle ordered the child soldiers to attenton.

"Stand to! At post!"

"Enemy approaching, sir."

"Steady. Find the biting point."

The first of the scarecrows burst through, and he snapped his hand towards them.

"Fire!"

Bullets flew, slicing through the air before making contact with their targets. The boys squeezed at the triggers, faces tight with fear and tears in their eyes. Tucked behind the central sandbank, John found that he could not bring himself to pull the trigger - not even on these bizarre, otherworldly men. Instead he watched as the shots from the children sent the figures tumbling to the ground, landing in shapeless heaps. When the last of them fell, Mr Roscastle held up a hand.

"Cease fire!"
The children lowered their weapons as he moved to examine the scarecrows, stepping cautiously and prodding at the still figures.

"They're straw. Like he said, straw."

Hutchinson looked up, hopeful. "Then no one's dead, sir? We killed no one?"

Footsteps on the gravel made the headmaster flinch back.

"Stand to!"

Through the gap in the gates came the little girl with the balloon.

"You, child. Come out of the way. Come into the school. You don't know who's out there. It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it? Come here. Come to me."

Seeing her, Martha ran from the building. "Mister Rocastle! Please, don't go near her."

"You were told to be quiet."

"Just listen to me. She's part of it. Marion, tell him."

Marion leant over the sandbags, her tone one of clear warning.

"I think you should stay back, Headmaster."

"Mister Smith."

He nodded, a little less sure but very much on edge. "She was - she was with… with Baines in the village."

The headmaster tutted back at him. "Mister Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night, but there is no cause on God's Earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir. Come with me."

Lucy smiled. "You're funny."

"That's right. Now take my hand."

"So funny."

She produced one of the alien guns from the pocket of her tattered cardigan and atomised the man.

"Now who's going to shoot me. Any of you, really?!"

John snapped at the boys. "Put down your guns."

"But sir, the Headmaster."

"I'll not see this happen. Not anymore. You will retreat in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir."

"I said, lead the way."

Baines appeared in the gateway, sneering. "Well, go on, then. Run!" He fired into the air, and the boys got the message. They began to disperse, turning their backs on the enemy and fleeing.

"Reanimate!"

Having ushered most of the boys out of the back doors, ordering them to scatter and hide, John tried to convince the women to leave too.

"Now, I insist. The three of you, just go. If there are any more boys inside, I'll find them."

Marion shook her head. "Those boys are my students too and I will not leave them behind. Nor will I leave you." She moved to open the next door - and came face to face with a trio of scarecrows. She slammed the door shut again, locking it even as she felt John's hands pulling her back.

"I think, retreat. We need to leave."

They made it as far as the line of bushes at the edge of the copse before they heard Mr Clarke bellowing from outside the front of the building.

"Doctor! Doctor!"

The four of them ducked behind the scrub, watching as the scarecrows hefted the Tardis into the open.

"Come back, Doctor. Come home. Come and claim your prize."

Baines and Jenny returned to him, each grinning coldly.

"Out you come, Doctor. There's a good boy. Come to the Family."

"Time to end it out, Doctor. Come to us!"

Martha glanced over at him as they huddled there, watching his facial expressions.

"You recognise it, don't you?"

He twitched a little. "I've never seen it in my life."

"Do you remember its name?"

On his other side, Joan put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, John, but you wrote about it. The blue box. You dreamt of a blue box."

"I'm not. I'm John Smith. That's all I want to be. John Smith, with his life, and his job, and his love." He looked to Marion, expecting her support, but she had her eyes locked on the blue box, a peaceful look on her face. "Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man? Isn't he enough?"

She reached for his hand. "Yes, he absolutely is. But can't you see that this world calls for something different? Not better, just… different."

"Why can't I stay?"

Martha tried her best to be comforting. "But we need the Doctor."

That didn't exactly help. "What am I, then? Nothing. I'm just a story."

He got up and ran, leaving them to follow.

As they reached one of the lanes, Joan got her bearings.

"This way. I think I know somewhere we can hide."

He shook his head. "We've got to keep going."

"Just listen to me for once, John. Now, follow me."

Marion grabbed his wrist. "If she believes she knows of somewhere safe, then what harm is there in trying? It has to be better than being stuck out in the open."

Reluctantly, he agreed, and the four of them found themselves outside a small cottage. Joan and Martha went in first, checking the little kitchen apprehensively.

"Oh, here we are. It should be empty. Oh, it's a long time since I've run that far."

"But who lives here?"

"If I'm right, no one."

The room was dark, barely lit by the faint moonlight that touched the window panes. It was quaint, but had a strangely lifeless feel to it. The table was laid for tea, as though the family who lived there was about to sit down and enjoy the small meal before parting, the children heading to bed and the adults sitting with books by the fire. But the mugs were half full and the plates half empty - and it looked like they had been like that for a while.

"Hello? No one home. We should be safe here."

Martha peered through into the small living room. "Whose house is it, though?"

Joan came back from the bedrooms. "Er, the Cartwrights. That little girl at the school, she's Lucy Cartwright, or she's taken Lucy Cartwright's form. If she came home this afternoon and if the parents tried to stop their little girl, then they were… vanished." She put a hand to the teapot. "Stone cold. How easily I accept these ideas."

John dropped heavily into the nearest chair, brow furrowed.

"I must go to them, before anyone else dies."

Joan shook her head. "You can't. Martha, there must be something we can do."

She sighed. "Not without the watch."

He glared up at her. "You're this Doctor's companion. Can't you help? What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you?"

Marion, hands on hips, shot him the exact same look back. "Don't you dare talk to her like that. Do you understand me? She does not deserve that."

Martha leant against the table. "Because he was lonely. He needed someone there, and I was that person. Then Romana - that's who Marion is, inside - came along, and the three of us were brilliant together."

He looked to be on the verge of tears. "And that's what you want me to become. A lonely man?"

There was a knock at the door, and the group froze.

Joan tensed. "What if it's them?"

Martha headed towards the door. "I'm not an expert, but I don't think scarecrows knock." She opened it, and looked down into the eyes of an anxious Tim Latimer.

"I brought you this."

In the palm of his right hand was the watch.

She took it from him, holding it out to show John the detailing on the cover.

"Hold it."

"I won't."

"Please, just hold it."

Tim closed the door behind him. "It told me to find you. It wants to be held."

Joan frowned. "You've had this watch all this time? Why didn't you return it?"

"Because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the Doctor."

"Why?"

"Because I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun."

John cringed back. "Stop it."

"He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop it! I said stop it."

"And he's wonderful." Marion's words overlapped his, and the others looked up at her. Martha noticed that she once again had a hand at her throat, and managed a smile.

"Romana?"

"Just for the moment, yes. The Doctor is wonderful, gentle and kind. He's fiercely courageous and has always stood up for people who can't defend themselves. He-" She stopped for a second, wincing. "The illusion's fading, so if I do this for too long it'll fail altogether. The locket being so close to my skin for so long has weakened the defences. John - Doctor, you need to trust me. I know this is scary, Marion is scared too. But she's being brave. You need to be too. I-"

Her hands shot out to brace her against the table as she stumbled, shaking a little. John moved instinctively to support her, eyes flitting down to the locket at her neck.

"So you're a part of this too?"

She nodded. "I always have been. I think I've just been a bit more aware of it than you have. I'm sorry."

Joan pulled the book from the pocket of her apron. "I've still got this. The journal."

He brushed her off. "Those are just stories."

"Now we know that's not true. Perhaps there's something in here."

A colossal bang shook the walls of the cottage - it was impossible to tell where it had come from, but it certainly sounded close. Martha rushed to the window, followed by Marion.

"What the hell?"

Huge fireballs were falling from the sky.

Joan was almost as white as her dress. "They're destroying the village."

John leant across the table, grabbing at the bronze object. "The watch."

"John, don't."

Tim watched him curiously. "Can you hear it too?"

He nodded, tracing the circles on the case thoughtfully. "I think he's asleep. Waiting to awaken."

"Why did he speak to me?"

"Oh, low-level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing-" He gasped, dropping the watch in shock. A look of horror clung to his face. "Is that how he talks?"

Martha grinned. "That's him. All you have to do is open it and he's back."

"You knew this all along and yet you watched while Marion and I lived out… a lie? Knowing that neither of us were our true selves?"

"I didn't know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out, for but that wasn't included. And this wasn't the original plan, Romana was never meant to-"

"Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?"

She shook her head sadly. "No."

He scoffed. "Then what sort of man is that? And now you expect me to die?"

"It was always going to end, though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan, and that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. Like mayflies, he said."

"So your job was to execute me."

Marion put her foot down. "Enough. I may not, as I am now, fully understand the exact nature of this situation. But what I do know to be a fact is that Martha did her absolute best to protect the both of us from this, and she did so alone. She has had an impossibly difficult time, with no support from either of us - we're meant to be her friends, for goodness' sake!"

Martha took a deep breath.

"People are dying out there. They need him and I need him. I need them both so much. Because you've got no idea of what they're like. I've only just met them. It wasn't even that long ago. But they are everything. He - he's just everything to me and he doesn't even look at me, but I don't care, because I love him to bits. At least, I did, for a while. But then I realised that I love them both - and that they definitely love each other, whether or not they're aware of it. And I hope to God neither of them will remember me saying this. I need them, the universe needs them, and they need each other."

There was another explosion nearby, and Tim shuddered. "It's getting closer."

John's eyes lit up. "I should have thought of it before. I can give them this. Just the watch. Then they can leave and I can stay as I am. And Marion, your necklace! We could hand them over together and be free."

Martha groaned. "You can't do that!"

"If they want the Doctor, and whoever Marion used to be, then surely they can have them."

"He'll never let you do it."

"But if they get what they want, then, then…"

"Then it all ends in destruction." Joan sat down next to him, looking solemn. "I never read to the end, but those creatures would live forever to breed and conquer, for war across the stars for every child." She sighed. "Martha, Timothy, would you leave us alone, please?"

The two moved to head outside, stopping for a moment as Marion moved to join them.

"Right now, I think John sees my involvement in this as something of a betrayal. It wasn't intentional, but he most likely feels like that nonetheless. I think he's better off with Joan for consolation, just for now."

And so the three of them left, closing the door.

The moment they were outside, Marion rounded on Martha.

"I have a feeling I'm about to do something very stupid."

"What?"

She pointed at the circular locket, and they could see that it was glowing softly. "It's breaking down. I can feel her pushing through, coming back to the front. There isn't much time."

"So what do we do?"

"We don't do anything." The woman took a step back, unclipping her necklace. "I, however, do this."

And in one fluid movement, she did two things. Thing number one was pulling a length of diaphanous grey fabric that Martha vaguely recognised from a pocket and weaving it around her head and shoulders. Thing number two was opening the watch.

A soft golden cloud emanated from the watch face, drifting over her exposed skin and seeping into her pores. She inhaled deeply and relaxed, stretching her neck as she groaned in relief.

"Oh, that feels better. Now I know how Aladdin's genie felt. It's cramped as hell in there."

Martha reached for her hand. "Romana?"

"In the flesh this time, I promise." She pulled her into the quickest possible hug, before dropping the smile. "Now, I need to go. The clock is ticking and now I'm out in the open it won't be hard for them to find me. The diverting scarf will do me some favours - I'm glad there was enough of me bleeding through to Marion to make her feel the need to carry it everywhere. But it won't throw them off forever. And I will not lead them to him."

"So what's the plan?"

"I run." She shrugged. "Listen, you can't tell him I'm - she's gone, alright? He has to be ready to make the decision to change on his own. Keep looking after him for me, yeah? It won't be for much longer, I promise. This'll all be over soon."

And before Martha could protest, Romana had adjusted the scarf to cover more of her face, turned on her heel, and run.

When the others had left, John had broken down, sobbing into Joan's shoulder. The bombardment outside continued audibly, occasionally shaking the walls. She tried to ignore the little thrills running through her chest at the feeling of his weight against her, just doing her best to comfort him.

"If I could do this instead of you, then I would. I'd hoped. But my hopes aren't important."

"He won't be the same. He won't care. About anyone."

"If he's not you, then I don't want him to. I so desperately wanted more than friendship, but you are such an incredible man that just having you in my life is all I think I need."

He didn't seem to be taking in what she was saying. "I really thought it was all real. That I was real, that she was real, that - but everything has been a lie."

She brushed her fingers over the watch for a moment.

"Let me see. Blasted thing. Blasted, blasted thing. Can't even hear it. It says nothing to me."

His fingertips glanced across the top of it.

Joan could hear wedding bells and saw herself in a long white dress, kissing John Smith as their family and friends cheered and threw confetti. She saw him by her bedside, cradling their firstborn child. She saw the two of them in a forest, watching their children play and giggle. And then she saw him on his deathbed, an older version of her holding his hand.

"They're all safe, aren't they? The children, the grandchildren. Everyone's safe?"

"Everyone's safe, and they all send their love, John."

"Well, it's time. Thank you."

The vision faded and she gasped, eyes wide.

"Did you see that? Us?"

He was staring into the distance, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I can see… her."

John saw Marion, holding a hand out to him as the two climbed up to the top of a waterfall. He saw them riding horses across a vast field, then standing at the bow of a beautiful ship. Then he saw them dancing in strange robes on grass that was impossibly red, and although he didn't recognise the scene something about it felt beautifully familiar. And at the central structure of a vast room, he saw the two of them working a number of control panels with ease. Those images then blurred into others - the two of them holding hands and gazing up at a multicoloured sky, wandering through bustling markets full of myriad creatures. It was beautiful, he thought.

And it felt so very real.

Joan's voice interrupted his reverie. "The Time Lord has such adventures, but he could never have a life like that."

"Oh, the things we could see!"

"John?"

He didn't answer, tracing the circles on the watch again.

Shortly after darting into the forest, Romana had taken to the trees. She theorised that the Family, although their sense of smell was impeccable, had very little in the way of common sense - and the remaining leaves would hide her better than the sparse autumn scrub on the ground. It had only taken a few minutes after her restoration for the Family to have abandoned the village and come after her. Their scarecrows led the way, marching in a disorganised shamble, peering around trees and under logs. But none of them seemed to have thought far enough ahead to look upwards. She left fragments of fabric behind with every tree she passed through, hoping that her scent would cling there and distract them. It wasn't perfect, obviously, but she didn't exactly have much of a choice.

Hearing the voices of the Family a short distance away, she climbed higher, moving soundlessly and slowing her hearts so the double sound was less conspicuous. They lingered for a moment, and she swore under her breath.

"Ah, shit."

And then came her saving grace - a warning chitter from the nearby spaceship. Baines growled.

"Forget the woman! The Doctor is all we need - and the ship has sensed John Smith's approach. Scarecrows, when you find her: tear her apart."

And the four creatures retreated.

She waited for a few moments, then started to descend - straight into the middle of the scarecrow cluster. She realised it was a lost cause the second her feet hit the ground; they could see right through the veil. It was unfortunate, really, that their brains were too simple to be affected by the perception threads. So it was time for plan B. Run like hell.

She made it less than five metres before the first one grabbed her.

Baines stalked the floor of the ship as the rest of the Family watched, keeping their fuming silent.

"We'll blast them into dust, then fuse the dust into glass, then shatter them all over again."

The ship's door slid open, and a trembling John Smith staggered inside.

"Just- Just stop the bombardment. That's all I'm asking. I'll do anything you want, just, just stop."

"Say please."

"Please."

Jenny took a step closer, head tilted to one side.

"What a shame. Still human."

"Now I can't… I can't pretend to understand, not for a second, but I want you to know I'm innocent in all this. He made me John Smith. It's not like I had any control over it." He stumbled against the wall, feeling the switches and buttons shifting under his hands.

"He didn't just make himself human. He made himself an idiot."

Baines snorted. "Same thing, isn't it?"

John shook his head. "I don't care about this Doctor and your family. I just want you to go. So I've made my choice. You can have him. Just take it, please! Take him away." And he thrust the watch at them, looking at it like it was going to bite him.

"At last." The boy snatched the watch, grabbing at the lapels of the man's jacket as he did so. "Don't think that saved your life." He shoved him at the wall, smirking as he slammed into it and collapsed to the floor.

"Family of Mine, now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord. And now that we have this one in our grasp, the second will be easy to ensnare."

He opened the watch, and all four of them leant in, breathing in as deeply as they could.

Nothing.

"It's empty!"

John's lip wobbled. "Where's it gone?"

"You tell me."

He tossed the watch at the man, who caught it with a swift instinctual movement - and they realised that they had been conned.

"Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection. Little bit like ventriloquism of the nose. It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy. But it has got to be said, I don't like the looks of that hydroconometer. It seems to be indicating you've got energy feedback all the way through the retrostabilisers feeding back into the primary heat converters. Oh. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press all those buttons. But, in fairness, I will give you one word of advice. Run."

And he darted back out of the door as the alarms began to flare.

Understanding exactly what he had done, Baines ushered them out.

"Get out! Get out! Now!"

As Baines watched the Doctor walk away into the early hours of the morning, immobilised within his straw and sacking prison, he tried to project his thoughts as far as he could. Hoping desperately that the next Family would be a little less ambitious with their plans.

"He never raised his voice. That was the worst thing. The fury of the Time Lord. And then we discovered why. Why this Doctor, who had fought with gods and demons, why he'd run away from us and hidden. He was being kind. He wrapped my father in unbreakable chains, forged in the heart of a dwarf star. He tricked my mother into the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy to be imprisoned there forever. He still visits my little sister once a year every year. I wonder if one day he might forgive her, but there she is. Can you see? He trapped her inside a mirror, every mirror. If ever you look at your reflection and see something move behind you, just for a second, that's her. That's always her. As for me, I was suspended in time. And the Doctor put me to work standing over the fields of England, as their protector. We wanted to live forever, so the Doctor made sure that we did."

On his way back to the cottage, the sight of heaped scarecrows just beyond the treeline made him stop. They were, at first, motionless, but as he watched they started to shift. The centre of the pile hiccuped slightly, then swelled as a figure broke through the bodies. A figure with shockingly red hair.

"Romana!"

She looked towards the sound of his voice, grinning. She was bruised, but looked generally okay. "Took you long enough!"

He bounded through the bushes, sweeping her into his arms the moment he could.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, completely. Mind's a bit fuzzy but that's to be expected."

"What do you remember?"

She shrugged, kicking one of the scarecrows aside. "Very little, to be honest. Flashes of the last few months, but nothing very coherent."

"It's more than I've got." He rubbed his forehead. "The last memory I have is fixing the arch in place."

"Really? Maybe it's because of the Tardis. I really shouldn't have used the arch so soon after you, but she didn't really give me a choice. Maybe it wasn't quite at full power, so things were breaking through more. I know Martha seemed to see more of me in Marion than she did of you in John."

He grabbed her by the hand. "Come on, let's go and make sure she's alright."

It was mid-morning when the Doctor returned to the cottage alone. Martha had told him Joan would be there, and he wanted to give her a chance to see him for who he really was. When he entered, she was staring out of the window.

"Is it done?"

"It's done."

"The police and the army are at the school. The parents have come to take the boys home. I should go. They'll have so many questions. I'm not sure what to say." She turned to look at him, barely disguising her flinch. "Oh, you look the same. Goodness, you must forgive my rudeness. I find it difficult to look at you. Doctor, I must call you Doctor. Where is he? John Smith?"

He tapped the side of his head. "He's in here somewhere."

"Like a story. Could you change back?"

"Yes."

"Will you?"

"No."

"I see. Well, then. He was braver than you in the end, that ordinary man. You chose to change. He chose to die."

"Come with us."

She blinked, startled. "I'm sorry?"

"Travel with us."

"As what?"

"A companion. As out friend."

She shook her head. "But that's not fair. What must I look like to people like you and Mar- Romana, Doctor? I must seem so very small."

"No. We could start again. I'd like that. Build that friendship up from the ground again. Because everything that John Smith and Marion Thomas are and were, the two of us are capable of that, too."

"I can't.

"Please come with me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

She sighed. "John Smith is dead, and you look like him."

"But he's here, inside, if you look in my eyes."

She refused to meet his gaze, instead staring out of the window again. "Answer me this. Just one question, that's all. If the Doctor had never visited us, if he'd never chosen this place on a whim, would anybody here have died?" When he didn't respond, she nodded, like she had known the answer all along. "You can go."

Looking a little forlorn, he left. Joan managed to wait until after he was outside to let the first tears fall.

"Oh, it's pissing it down out here!"

Martha laughed at the look on Romana's face as she ducked out of the Tardis, nose scrunched against the chilly air.

"Welcome to England. Nearly a hundred years in the future, it's still like this."

"Yeah, makes me wonder why he likes this place so much. He never used to tolerate getting his hair wet."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah!" She grinned. "Although I'm pretty sure that's because the last time I was with him, his hair was insanely curly."

Martha snorted. "See, now I understand. My mum's hair is curly and if it gets wet when she's not prepared for it, it puts her in a foul mood all day."

That made Romana cackle. "Never thought I'd see the day when the Doctor and your mother had anything in common."

The two slumped back against the ship, practically howling as he approached them.

"Are you two alright?"

"Yep."

"Yeah, just fine, don't you worry."

He eyed the two of them cautiously, before shrugging.

"Right then. Never mind. Molto bene."

Martha's smile faded a little. "How was she?"

"Time we moved on."

"If you want, I could go and-"

"Time we moved on."

Romana put an arm around each of them. "Hey, you said goodbye. I think, in the end, she would much rather you had made the effort than just disappeared."

Shifting slightly, Martha asked the question that had been nagging at her mind since they had returned.

"So, um… how much do you both remember? Of the last few months, I mean."

The Doctor shrugged. "Very little. Flashes of a few conversations here and there, a little bit of the village dance. But nothing else. I expected that, though. For just a few things to break through and the rest of it to stay hidden."

"It's about the same for me, overall. I think I remember slightly more, but nothing's very clear. Why?"

Neither of them noticed the look of relief on their friend's face. "Ah, just wondered, that's all."

Suddenly, he looked serious. "Oh, Martha. From the few things the two of us remember, I've managed to work something out."

She gulped. "Y-Yeah?"

"Yeah. The way I treated you was… inexcusable. Absolutely inexcusable. I can't… I can't even begin to say how sorry I am. I know sorry isn't enough. And I'm so, so grateful that Romana had the sense to give me a bollocking when I needed to. I'm going to make it up to you, alright? I promise."

Touched, she pulled him back into a hug, tighter than the last.

"Thank you. I know you weren't you, but thank you for apologising anyway."

"And I never said. Thanks for looking after us. I don't know what we would have done without you."

Romana raised an eyebrow. "Well, you'd be hopeless, that's for sure."

That got them laughing again as Tim made his way up the hill to them.

"Doctor. Romana. Martha."

He grinned. "Tim Timothy Timber."

Romana nudged him. "Can't you be remotely normal for once?"

The boy grinned. "I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. Because I've seen the future and I now know what must be done. It's coming, isn't it? The biggest war ever."

Martha smiled sadly. "You don't have to fight."

"I think we do."

"But you could get hurt."

"Well, so could you, travelling around with these two, but it's not going to stop you."

He reached into his pocket. "Tim, I'd be honoured if you'd take this." And he passed the watch over. Tim took it, frowning slightly.

"I can't hear anything."

"No, it's just a watch now. But keep it with you, for good luck."

The three of them hugged him tight, then got ready to step into the ship. Romana shot him a wink.

"I think you're gonna like this bit."

Their next flight had been surprisingly short and turbulence free, and they landed with little impact. Martha, having requested the destination, searched one of the many drawers full of random junk until she found what she was looking for, and then led them outside.

In the cold November air, she fixed a paper poppy to each of their jackets, and the three of them stood to watch the remembrance service on the other side of the green. Their attention was settled on one man in particular; small and slender, legs covered by a thick blanket as he sat in his wheelchair. A series of medals were pinned to the breast of his jacket, and sat in his palms was a familiar circular bronze shape.

A young vicar stood in front of a set of wreaths, reading aloud from a small book.

"They have no lot in our labour of the day time. They sleep beyond England's foam.

They went with songs to the battle. They were young, straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted. They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning."

"We will remember them."

See you soon, and happy reading!

Much love,

Azzie xx