A boat pulled up onto the beach and two people climbed out, dressed in all black and hurrying up the shore in the dark toward a man holding a lamp further up the bank. Martha Jones spoke first as Asher quietly eyed the dark, gaze distant.

"What's your name then?"

"Tom Milligan. No need to ask who you are. The famous Martha Jones and Asher Watkins. How long since you were last in Britain?"

"Three hundred and sixty-five days. It's been a long year," Martha answered.

"So, what's the plan?" He asked as they started walking up the beach to his car.

"This Professor Docherty. We need to see her. Can you get us there?"

"She works in a repair shed, Nuclear Plant Seven. I can get you inside. What's all this for? What's so important about her?"

"Nothing," Asher said shortly, whereas Martha apologized.

"Sorry. The more you know, the more you're at risk."

He reluctantly accepted that. "There's a lot of people depending on you. You're a bit of a legend."

"What does the legend say?" Martha inquired, hoping that the Doctor's plan was going well if word had spread this far even without her and Asher being there for a year.

"That you sailed the Atlantic, walked across America. That you two were the only people to get out of Japan alive. 'Martha Jones and Asher Watkins,' they say, 'they're going to save the world.' Bit late for that."

"How come you can drive? Don't you get stopped?" Martha asked.

"Medical staff. Used to be in pediatrics back in the old days. But that gives me a license to travel so I can help out at the labor camps."

"Great. We're traveling with a doctor," Martha muttered, giving Asher a look as she climbed into the truck bed, letting Martha take the only seat in the cab.

Things had changed after what happened to her. Martha had done her best to support Asher but it hadn't been easy. The first few weeks were the hardest. Asher had lost her arm. It could have been worse, from a medical point of view. The laser screwdriver cauterized the wound which prevented her from bleeding out before Martha could get a hold of medical equipment—not an easy task when one-tenth of the population was being slaughtered. She'd had a mild fever for a few days and struggled a bit in their travels initially but was back to good health within the first week.

The problem after that was dealing with the psychological damage. Asher had… shut down at first, not seeming to understand what had happened no matter how many times Martha tried to explain it. She had phantom pain and often forgot the arm was missing, then came the bitterness and frustration. Adjusting to only one arm was difficult, especially when it was her dominant arm and with how it happened, her being upset was expected. The odd thing was, Asher only mentioned it once: when they escaped the desolation of Japan and her lack of an arm nearly cost Martha her life. She'd spat that it was the Doctor's fault but as soon they were safe and licking their wounds she murmured an apology and said it wasn't true.

After that, she'd gone quiet again but in a different way. She didn't talk as much but Martha often found her working out or going out of her way to occupy herself. She was trying to stay busy and keep her mind off things while also finding ways to improve herself. She didn't want to be a liability because of her arm and all Martha could do was make sure she was taking care of herself in the process. She knew Asher was still struggling, whether she said as much or not, and it was the least she could do. Asher had helped her a lot while she traveled with the Doctor and Martha had only seen her this young once before. There was a vast difference in experience and Martha wasn't exactly used to taking charge when Asher or the Doctor were around, but she was doing her best and so far it was turning out better than expected.

The Doctor's plan didn't exactly sound like it'd work but Martha trusted him. Asher going along with it only added to that. She wouldn't let them continue in this way if it wouldn't work. Or, well, Martha hoped not. When she'd mentioned her plan for getting a sphere, Asher had looked uneasy about it but didn't argue. It was a sure sign that Martha might not be happy with what the result was but that Asher wouldn't prevent it either. It wasn't a risk and that was all that mattered.

They soon arrived at the workshop where the professor should be and once they waited until the next work shift, Tom cut through the fence and the three of them hurried through. The woman was yelling and complaining as she aggressively hit a screen when they slipped into the workshop and Tom called out hesitantly.

"Professor Docherty?"

"Busy," she snapped back.

"They, uh, they sent word ahead. I'm Tom Milligan. This is Martha Jones and Asher Watkins."

"They can be the Queen of Sheba and Queen of England for all I care. I'm still busy," Docherty grumbled.

"Televisions don't work anymore," Martha pointed out, going ignored.

"Oh God, I miss Countdown. Never been the same since Des took over. Both Deses. What's the plural for Des? Desi? Deseen? But we've been told there's going to be a transmission from the man himself." Docherty hit the screen again until it finally flickered to life. "There!"

The Master stepped into view with a smug smile. "My people. Salutations on this, the eve of war. Lovely woman. But I know there's all sorts of whispers down there. Stories of two children, walking the Earth, giving you hope. But I ask you, how much hope has this man got?" He asked, moving aside to stand near the older Doctor. "Say hello, Gandalf. Except he's not that old, but he's an alien with a much greater lifespan than you stunted little apes. But what if it showed? What if I suspend your capacity to regenerate? All nine hundred years of your life, Doctor. What if we could see them?"

Martha turned away when Asher shifted, looking over at her in confusion as she started to walk off. "Where are you going?"

"Out," she muttered as Martha turned back to the screen to find the Doctor crying out again as the Master pointed his sonic at him.

"Older and older and older. Down you go, Doctor. Down, down, down the years. Doctor." He hummed when there was silence from the Doctor and he turned to the screen again, eyes serious. "Received and understood, Miss Jones? Asher Watkins?"

Then, the screen went black and Tom hesitantly comforted Martha.

"I'm sorry."

"The Doctor's still alive," Martha insisted with a smile, knowing that Asher wouldn't have walked out if he'd died there.

She wouldn't have just sat around even if she was angry with him. That's just who she was. With the broadcast over though, Martha was able to get to work talking to Docherty about the plans she had.

"Obviously the Archangel Network would seem to be the Master's greatest weakness. Fifteen satellites all around the Earth, still transmitting. That's why there's so little resistance. It's broadcasting a telepathic signal that keeps people scared," Docherty said, handing over the information she'd gathered.

"We could just take them out," Tom offered.

"We could. Fifteen ground-to-air missiles. You got any on you? Besides, any military action, the Toclafane descend," Docherty countered.

"They're not called Toclafane. That's a name the Master made up," Martha informed.

"Then, what are they, then?"

"That's why I came to find you. Know your enemy. I've got this." Martha held up a computer disc. "No one's been able to look at a sphere close up. They can't even be damaged, except once. The lightning strike in South Africa brought one of them down, just by chance. I've got the readings on this."

Docherty took the disk and put it into her computer to read the data; smacking the computer when it struggled. "Oh, whoever thought we'd miss Bill Gates."

"So is that why you traveled the world? To find a disc?" Tom asked her and she shook her head.

"No. Just got lucky."

"I heard stories that you walked the Earth to find a way to build a weapon," Docherty huffed before the data came up. "There! A current of 58.5 kiloamperes transferred charge of five hundred and ten megajoules precisely."

"Can you recreate that?" Tom asked.

"I think so. Easily. Yes."

"Right then, Doctor Milligan, we're going to get us a sphere."

"What about your friend? Asher?"

Martha glanced at where she'd walked out during the broadcast and sighed. "I'll talk to her. Not sure she'll want to help in this."

"Why not?"

"It's… Well, it's mostly for me. Like I said, just got lucky. I want to know what those things are. She's not as interested. I wouldn't say it's not important but… I don't know. Guess to her, it isn't."

He didn't seem to understand but Martha couldn't exactly go blurting out that Asher probably knew what the Toclafane were already. That, and Martha didn't exactly understand Asher herself these days. She was too closed off, too quiet. A lot had happened and as much as Martha wished she would talk to her, pushing it would only make it worse. So, she stepped outside and looked around before a voice called out.

"Up here."

Martha turned and spotted Asher lying on the roof, hand lifted in a half-hearted wave before she pointed to the right. A ladder was leaning against the building, and Martha sighed, climbing it to join her.

"You shouldn't be up here. What if the Toclafane spot you?" Martha cautioned, sitting down beside her as she shrugged; uncaring.

Martha looked up with her, staring out at the stars sprinkled above them and thinking of all the trips they'd taken with the Doctor to other places, other planets.

"Do you miss him?" She asked softly, unsure how Asher would respond with what had happened.

They'd generally avoided talking about the Doctor other than when Martha spread stories about him. She'd done most of the story-telling since Asher had insisted she wasn't good at it and hated public speaking. She was just there for support and to watch Martha's back, as much as she probably hated not being able to do anything. The Doctor had been a poor subject, is all. With her arm and what he'd said, among other things, it was a sensitive topic that Martha was concerned would cause more harm than good. As expected, Asher was frowning and avoided the question as she pushed herself upright.

"What did you need?" She asked and Martha sighed softly.

"We're going out to catch a sphere. Did you want to—"

"No," she said shortly before wincing and awkwardly glancing away. "Sorry, I just… You won't like what you find."

"I need to know," Martha pressed, assuming as much and Asher just nodded in understanding.

I didn't want to be around when Martha found out about the Toclafane. I wasn't sure how she'd react and I wasn't exactly comfortable with her. I'd only met Martha once before and while she was trying to be friendly and help me, I just wanted to be left alone. Though, that's not entirely true, is it? I reached up and grabbed at what remained of my right arm, feeling a sick roll of bitterness in my stomach.

I still hadn't gotten used to it and I don't think I ever would. The phantom pains were the worst and really messed with me when I was trying to sleep. It'd been a long while since I'd had nightmares about anything but since this had happened it became an every-night event. I wouldn't even remember them most of the time, just the rolling nausea, pain, and cold sweat that had me up and out of wherever we were camping. As much as Martha tried to help, there was little anyone could have done and it didn't help that she kept eyeing me as though waiting for me to explode.

There were times I wanted to. After what happened in Japan… Well, that was the closest I'd gotten to blowing up about what had happened. It was just too much stress piled on at once and nearly losing Martha because of my arm had been what finally broke my control. It felt stupid, now. I'd cursed the Doctor for causing what had happened but it wasn't true. I didn't blame him. The agony I'd been in for as little time as it was had felt like years of pain. The removal of my arm had been a godsend and the relief at the time was euphoric. I couldn't blame him for saving me from that. I'd just been angry and mostly with myself.

Up until then, I'd been drifting, lost in my thoughts and unsure of what I was supposed to do when I had lost my arm and was thrown out into an apocalyptic world with Martha. I wasn't good at telling stories or talking to people. Being with her wasn't terrible but I had felt lost and uncertain of what my purpose was. Not that being with the Doctor and the others would've been better. I was still worried about the Master finding out about my developing mental abilities. I'd been doing my best to work on them while traveling but I couldn't see my own progress. I wasn't even sure what I was doing was actually accomplishing anything.

I released my arm with a grimace, peering around a corner and stepping out cautiously. There was no point in trying to think about it now. I should be more focused on trying to get the food I'd procured back to the warehouse that Martha and the others were at. I shouldn't have left, really. It was a huge risk but for some reason, I couldn't be bothered to care. I was being useful for half a second and that was better than standing around and waiting for Martha to blow up at me for not telling her the Toclafane were the future humans they'd met.

She'll be angry, I thought. Anyone would be. I could have just told her but instead, she'd gone out there and caught one to pry open and see for herself. I should have stopped her. Why didn't I? That was another problem that had started to happen. I was questioning myself more and more. Why I did or didn't do something; my reactions to things I knew about, or things I didn't. I was struggling to understand what I was feeling at the time and I couldn't tell if I'd been disassociating or what was going on. I didn't know much about what happened during the Year That Never Was other than a few tidbits. Things that weren't helpful given I was on Earth with Martha. But I could tell her. The year is almost over and she hasn't asked about her family, how they're doing, about Jack or the Doctor. She wants to. I can see it every time she looks at me but she doesn't for my sake and I… I haven't told her anything. Why? I would have, wouldn't I? Before I got here, I-I would have thought about the risks of telling her and told her just to make her not worry so… what's changed? What has caused me to change like this?

I heard a noise off to my left and whipped around, freezing in place in the shadows of the alley and watching, waiting. The sound didn't repeat and nothing appeared so I turned away and continued; assuming it was a rat. I was nearing the edge of the ruined city and from there hiding would be a bit more difficult while trying to get back to the warehouse. Again, my mind began to question itself. Why did I come out here? Why didn't I stay? Why didn't I tell Martha about the Toclafane? Why did I come out this far? Why is this so damn frustrating? Another noise and I turned with a snarl on my face, ready to confront whatever animal was making me so paranoid. Except it was no animal. The butt of a gun swung around and I leaned back, bringing my arm up to block it except I'd forgotten again.

I didn't have my right arm.

The gun clipped my forehead, drawing blood and making me stumble back before I twisted on my heels and turned to run. I flung the small bag of food I'd gathered, hoping the cans might slow the attacker down, but when I rounded the corner I had the air knocked out of me. I fell to my knees on the ground, choking for breath with an arm wrapped around my stomach as a gun barrel was pressed into my shoulder.

"Don't move."

I hardly had a choice and was soon shoved firmly into the ground, grimacing as the concrete scraped at my face. My remaining arm was pulled behind my back and a set of handcuffs were soon wrapped around my left wrist and my belt. I was hauled to my feet and spat out a curse at the armed soldiers who jerked me around and shoved me into the back of an armored car. I kicked out at the door in frustration, pounding on it repeatedly before gritting my teeth and trying to come up with a new plan. I got myself into position and, as soon as the doors were pulled open, I threw my shoulder into them.

I hit the man who'd opened the door and grimaced as we both hit the ground. I rolled back up onto my feet and took off running as I pulled my arm in the hopes of breaking my belt loop. If I could break them, then I could move my handcuffed arm forward and have half a shot at retaliating. The cuff dug painfully into my wrist but I could feel a little bit of give and pulled harder before I was hit hard across the back. I slammed into the ground, cracking my cheek, shoulder, and skull against the pavement before a knee pressed into my spine. The man who'd tackled me was barking out orders for me to stay still and stop resisting but I was panicking.

I had only one idea of who these men were and who they worked for, and none of it boded well for me. The Master might have not killed me once but I had no doubt he wouldn't hesitate if he got the chance to do it again. It's too soon. Too soon! He hasn't gotten Martha. I won't stand a chance if I'm taken up there first! I squirmed and fought to try and get out from under the man before something cracked against my temple and the world went dark.

When I'd come to, my head was pounding and my face itched and burned from the scrapes I'd gotten after hitting the pavement. My feet were dragging on the ground and my ears buzzed as the strong hands under my arms pulled me along. Then, I was half-thrown to the ground, clenching my eyes shut with a grimace of pain. Footsteps approached and a shoe pressed into my shoulder, flipping me onto my side to face the Master as he eyed me.

"Asher Watkins," he drawled as I tried to get my vision to focus properly and he knelt in front of me. "The Doctor's favorite."

"P-Piss off," I spat, wincing when his hand snapped out and grabbed my face tightly.

"Mm, grown a spine since the last time we met, huh?" He smirked. "Shame you couldn't grow your arm back the same way."

I growled, swinging a foot up to kick him but he easily grabbed it, twisting me so I was being harshly held against the ground and the cold metal of his laser sonic pressed into my temple.

"Don't irritate me," he warned calmly. "You're lucky you got away with just losing an arm. I could scramble your mind just as easily."

"Don't," came a croaky voice, and the Master turned to the shriveled-up form of the Doctor locked up in a birdcage nearby.

"Or what?" He challenged. "You come over here and stop me?"

The Master let out a scoff but got up off me and put the laser sonic away. I pressed my forehead into the cool floor and closed my eyes; relieved but still feeling my heart racing. I was dead. I would be dead. There was no way the Master would just let me live long enough for Martha to get picked up and this nightmare to end.

"Where is Martha Jones?" The Master asked but I wasn't listening.

My thoughts were too loud and I was struggling to quiet them, hide them from the Master and anyone else who might notice. A shoe slammed into my stomach, pulling me out of my focus and sending me sliding across the floor toward the Doctor.

"Where is she!"

"I-I don't—"

He stormed over, annoyed as he grabbed me by my coat and hauled me to my feet. "Don't lie to me. I know she's here. You wouldn't be here if she wasn't. Where is she and where is she going?"

"W-What does it matter?" I wheezed, head swimming. "S-She'll end up here anyway. You have t-the resources. You know w-where she is and where she's going. You don't need me to tell you."

"Smarter than you look," he muttered, eyes narrowed before dropping me back to the ground. "Then again, you did just tell me you were useless."

I had, I realized. If he'd only brought me onboard to find out about Martha, then I'd just informed him that I wasn't going to give him the information he wanted. It doesn't make sense though. He knows where she is. He knows about Docherty and he knows exactly where Martha ends up before he goes down to get her. He doesn't need me. He never did, so why did he take me?

"You already knew that," I muttered, drawing his attention once more. "Y-You knew I was useless when you took me a year ago. You were going to kill me then a-and you hardly needed to take me now. What's the point?"

Slowly, the Master began to smirk. "Oh-ho. Look at you. The Doctor's favorite. Yeah, I can see it now," he muttered, crouching in front of me once more. "The fire. That courage that all his companions have that turn them stupid. Always trying to be like him, putting on a brave face, acting like nothing can hurt them because the Doctor will figure it all out."

His hand suddenly snapped out, wrapping tightly around my throat, choking me. I reached up to try and stop him but my one hand was cuffed and the other still wasn't there. The Doctor was calling, trying to get him to stop but he wouldn't. I knew he wouldn't. The Master had no qualms about killing those who didn't interest him, those who were useless. I had nothing to prove to him, nothing to give him. He let me live on a whim the first time and there would be none of that here now.

Then, air rushed back into my lungs, clearing the fog in my vision that had started to darken around the edges.

"No," the Master murmured before a cackle escaped him. "No, you're different. You're not trying to impress him. You're trying to survive. Or, well, you would be if you could. You at least understand that here and now I'm the only one who can save you." He got up and smirked down at me. "Say my name."

I wearily glanced up at him, confused and his smile grew as he reached out and lightly cupped my face; thumb brushing over the scrape along my cheek.

"Say it and I'll think about letting you live one more day."

One more day… All I need is just one more day. "Master."

"That's a good girl."

"Ash."

I shifted slightly, body aching and stomach clenched tight with hunger. It had only been a few hours since the Master had left, going down to pick up Martha. After our discussion, he'd simply had my ankles chained together and left me with the Doctor. As he'd said, we both knew who was in control and even if I gathered the courage and strength to get up and try to do something… there was nothing I could do. I didn't know anything about the Valiant, couldn't stop the paradox machine, couldn't save the Doctor or anything else. There would be no point in locking me up somewhere when I had nowhere to go.

"Asher."

I groaned lightly, rubbing at my face with what was left of my right arm and begrudgingly attempting to sit up. When I managed, I leaned heavily against the wall and closed my eyes; tipping my head back. I felt a feather-light touch near my temple and instinctually jerked away as I snapped my eyes open. The Doctor stared back at me with his large, sad eyes, retracting his shrunken hand solemnly. I relaxed with a soft sigh, turning my gaze away from him shamefully.

It was frustrating and I felt a swirl of anger twist my gut. What else was I supposed to do? The anger wasn't for the Doctor though. It was for myself. The Master was right. I was useless and a failure as the Doctor's companion. I wasn't brave or clever or anything special. I lowered myself to the Master's level so quickly it was ridiculous. He could've told me to beg for my life and I would have. Now, I felt sick as the Doctor's stare bored holes in the side of my head but what else could I have done? What should I have done? I wanted to pull at my hair, tug at the follicles in my frustration because I suddenly didn't feel worthy to be at the Doctor's side.

When have I ever—

"Ash, please," the Doctor murmured, reaching out again and while I didn't jerk away this time, I still flinched at his soft touch.

I don't deserve this. I clenched my eyes shut, feeling that pressure welling up within me again; just as it had when I was with the Twelfth Doctor. Then, suddenly, everything calmed. The panic grew quiet. The shame faded. All of the uncertainty and questions grew fuzzy and slipped out of my fingers as the pressure eased. What… Hesitantly, I turned toward the Doctor as he offered a small, sad smile.

"You're early," he muttered, slowly pulling his hand away from my temple. "Still working things out, still learning how everything works."

"I-I don't…"

He reached up and lightly tapped his head. "You're new to it, aren't you? Your mental abilities are only just starting to settle, so it's all a bit unstable."

I was still confused, not sure what had been going on or what he'd done to fix things. Reading the confusion on my face, he offered a small, sad smile.

"You're picking up residual emotions. It's… not the best time to be new to these sorts of abilities. All the unease, the paranoia…"

"I was… picking up on it," I breathed, understanding now what had been so wrong the past year, and he nodded.

"Unknowingly, for a year… on top of everything else you were dealing with," he muttered, guilt in his voice as his gaze drifted to my missing arm. "I am so sorry."

I shifted my stump instinctually, making to say something but he cut me off.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," he said quickly. "I should have come up with another solution. You shouldn't have had to lose your arm because of me."

"I didn't—I just—" I tried to think of how to explain but my head was still very scrambled.

I'd just spent a year where my thoughts and what I said weren't matching up. Where I wasn't thinking before speaking or acting. Where paranoia had seeped into everything and it was hard to remember how to think without all of that messing with my head.

"Thank you," I blurted out instead before my brows furrowed and I brought my stump to my head as the Doctor stared in surprise. "Wait. Sorry. I don't mean—No, I do. I just… I don't know how to explain it. My head is a little…"

"No, no. That's okay. I just didn't expect… I thought you might, well, hate me," he admitted awkwardly.

"What?" I questioned, lifting what was left of my arm. "Because of this? Why? You saved my life."

"But your arm—"

"I was dying," I pressed before my brows furrowed again. "I remember feeling… I… I still feel it sometimes. When I sleep, it…" I grimaced as my vision spun, head pounding in protest.

"Asher?"

"Sorry. My head just… It's not right. I can't think."

"You should rest," he urged. "You're not in good shape and I'm sure you need it. Give your mind a rest. I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?" I lightly teased with a hint of a smile as I shifted closer to his cage to rest my head against the bars.

I didn't want to admit I missed him and didn't want to be alone right now.

"I promise," he murmured, brushing a tiny hand through my hair as I drifted off.

Martha Jones was brought out onto the main deck of the Valiant and glanced around with a small sense of relief. Her family didn't look too worse for wear and while Jack looked exhausted, he was still around, which was a plus. Her shoulders sagged slightly at the sight of Asher too, having hoped she'd been alright when she vanished but understanding now that she'd been caught on her way back. Martha saw the hints of dried blood on her face and temple, seeing hints of swelling as well but there wasn't anything she could do for Asher right now. Soon. It'll all be over soon.

"Your teleport device, in case you thought I'd forgotten," the Master commanded, facing her with his hand out.

She reached down to her pant pocket and took out the Vortex Manipulator, tossing it to him.

"And now, kneel," he commanded and she did so without complaint.

She knew how he was. They all did and she just needed to tolerate it until this was finished.

"Down below, the fleet is ready to launch. Two hundred thousand ships set to burn across the universe. Are we ready?"

"The fleet awaits your signal. Rejoice!" Announced one of his men.

"Three minutes to align the black hole converters. Counting down. I never could resist a ticking clock. My children, are you ready?"

"We will fly and blaze and slice. We will fly and blaze and slice," the Toclafane chanted as the Master grinned.

"At zero, to mark this day, the child Martha Jones will die. My first blood." He chuckled a bit. "Any last words? No? Such a disappointment, this one. Days of old, Doctor, you had companions who could absorb the time vortex. This one's useless." His gaze shifted to Asher. "Almost as useless as your favorite. Bow your head," he ordered Martha, pointing his laser sonic at her threateningly. "And so it falls to me, as Master of all, to establish from this day, a new order of Time Lords. From this day forward—"

Martha let out a chuckle, stopping him.

"What's so funny?"

"A gun?"

"What about it?"

"A gun in four parts."

"Yes, and I destroyed it," he confirmed, eyeing her.

"A gun in four parts scattered across the world? I mean, come on, did you really believe that?"

"The Doctor doesn't use weapons," Asher muttered, as the man himself grasped onto the bars of his cage.

"As if I would ask them to kill."

"Oh, well. It doesn't matter. I've got her exactly where I want her and I'll take care of the other one next."

"But I knew what Professor Docherty would do. The Resistance knew about her son," Martha pointed out. "I told her about the gun, so she'd get me here at the right time."

"Oh, but you're still going to die."

"Don't you want to know what we were doing, traveling the world?"

"Tell me." He shrugged and took a seat on the steps.

"We told a story. No weapons, just words. We did just what the Doctor said. We went across the continents all on our own. And everywhere we went, we found the people, and we told them our story. We told them about the Doctor and told them to pass it on, to spread the word so that everyone would know about the Doctor."

"Faith and hope? Is that all?"

"No, because we gave them an instruction, just as the Doctor said," she announced, getting to her feet with a smile as the countdown neared zero. "We told them that if everyone thinks of one word, at one specific time—"

"Nothing will happen. Is that your weapon? Prayer?"

"Right across the world, one word, just one thought at one moment—"

"With fifteen satellites," Asher added, making him turn to her in slight surprise. "The mind is a powerful thing. Connect them all together and you can move mountains."

"The Archangel Network," Jack breathed in understanding.

"A telepathic field binding the whole human race together, with all of them, every single person on Earth, thinking the same thing at the same time. And that word is Doctor."

The timer hit zero and everyone started to think it, to say his name.

"Stop it. No, no, no, no, you don't," the Master said, suddenly realizing that his plan was going wrong as the Doctor began to glow and grow. "Stop this right now. Stop it!"

"I've had a whole year to tune myself into the psychic network and integrate with its matrices," the Doctor said as the Master shouted at everyone to stop. "The one thing you can't do. Stop them thinking. Tell me the human race is degenerate now when they can do this."

Martha rushed to her family and the Master tried to shoot the Doctor with his laser sonic but the hits were absorbed in the still-glowing energy field around him and he adjusted the settings and turned to the others.

"Then, I'll kill them."

The Doctor easily threw the sonic from his hand across the floor and drifted toward him.

"You can't do this. You can't do it. It's not fair!" The Master shouted.

"And you know what happens now."

"No! No! No! No!"

"You wouldn't listen because you know what I'm going to say." The Doctor reached around him as he curled into a ball on the floor; holding him close. "I forgive you."

"My children," he hissed and the Doctor called out to Jack.

"Captain! The paradox machine!"

Jack nodded, gathering the men who'd once been holding him hostage and taking them with him before the Master activated the Vortex Manipulator he'd taken from Martha. The Doctor went with him as Martha hurried toward the controls of the ship and sent her father toward Asher to get her out of her cuffs.

"We've got six billion spheres heading right for us!"

"Jack will take care of the paradox machine!" Asher called out, stumbling to her feet and joining Martha. "Once he does, time will reverse and the spheres will be sent back. We need to hold out until then."

"What do you mean reverse?"

Asher brought a hand to her head with a grimace. "It's complicated. The machine just holds a-a new timeline in place, I think? Prevents a paradox from happening by pausing the timeline and forcing a new one. I-I'm not sure of the specifics. I don't know how it works."

"But you said reverse," Martha pointed out. "Reverse to where?"

The ship jolted and Asher staggered against a rail with a cry of pain as she gripped her partial arm.

"B-Back to when the machine started," she breathed as Martha's eyes widened at the swirl of golden energy taking shape around her missing arm and Asher held it up in surprise. "Before I lost my arm."

The ship jerked again, violently throwing people around. Martha nearly fell down the stairs if the Doctor hadn't reappeared and grabbed her, calling out with a grin.

"Everyone, get down! Time is reversing!"

Martha dropped to the ground with him and Asher fell over too; hitting the ground hard on her back beside them. The Doctor let out a laugh before the shaking stopped and he quickly got up to his feet.

"The paradox is broken. We've reverted back, one year and one day. Two minutes past eight in the morning," he said, rushing to the controls and adjusting the comms.

"This is UNIT Central. What's happened up there? We just saw the President assassinated."

"Just after the President was killed, but just before the spheres arrived. Everything back to normal. Planet Earth restored. None of it happened. The rockets, the terror. It never was," he explained to the stunned people on the Valiant.

"What about the spheres?" Martha asked.

"Trapped at the end of the universe."

"But I can remember it," Francine pointed out.

"We're at the eye of the storm. The only ones who'll ever know." The Doctor spotted Martha's father then, shaking his hand and pulling the man to his feet. "Oh, hello. You must be Mister Jones. We haven't actually met."

"Whoa, big fella! You don't want to miss the party," Jack chimed as he reentered the room and stopped the Master from running off. "Cuffs. So, what do we do with this one?"

"We kill him," Clive said coldly.

"We execute him," Tish added.

"No, that's not the solution," the Doctor argued before Francine brought a pistol up.

"Oh, I think so," she muttered, hands shaking as the Doctor slowly moved toward her from behind. "Because all those things, they still happened because of him. I saw them."

"Go on. Do it," the Master pressed.

"Francine, you're better than him," the Doctor murmured as she choked on a sob before a hand came up and wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

Asher stood in front of it, pushing the slide back and wincing when the gun fired. Francine had instinctually tightened her grip on it but the gun jammed after the first shot. She dropped the gun as Asher glanced behind her with a soft sigh of relief. The bullet hadn't hit anyone behind her and she deftly removed the magazine from the weapon before tossing it aside.

"I-I didn't…" Francine croaked as Asher offered a small smile.

"I know. You're just scared. He does that to people but that's all it is. Fear. It could have been so much worse."

She broke down quickly and the Doctor handed her off to Martha before grabbing hold of Asher, reaching up and brushing his fingers over the side of her face. She hadn't even noticed the blood until he pulled his hand away and she reached up herself. The bullet had skimmed the very edge of her cheek and ear and was thankfully not a far worse injury. The moment she'd grabbed the gun, the Doctor had felt his hearts stop in fear. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and lightly pressed it to the injury for her to hold as the Master spoke up again.

"You still haven't answered the question. What happens to me?"

"You're my responsibility from now on. The only Time Lord left in existence."

Jack headed over uneasily. "Yeah, but you can't trust him."

"No. The only safe place for him is the Tardis," the Doctor agreed, making the Master gape.

"You mean you're just going to keep me?"

"If that's what I have to do. It's time to change. Maybe I've been wandering for too long. Now I've got someone to care for." He glanced over at Asher as she watched him silently. "Someone else to care for."

There was a gunshot then and the Master stumbled back with dark blood seeping into his crisp white shirt. Asher turned to Lucy first and hurried over, grabbing the pistol she'd stolen from a guard with wide eyes as the Doctor grabbed the Master and held him as he collapsed.

"Always the women," the Master breathed.

"I didn't see her," the Doctor replied, eyes flickering over the Master's pained expression.

"Dying in your arms. Happy now?"

"You're not dying. Don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Just regenerate," the Doctor pressed but the Master was stubborn.

"No."

"One little bullet. Come on."

"I guess you don't know me so well. I refuse."

"Regenerate. Just regenerate. Please. Please! Just regenerate. Come on."

"And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?"

The Doctor was close to tears, holding the only other Time Lord in existence. "You've got to. Come on. It can't end like this. You and me, all the things we've done. Axons. Remember the Axons? And the Daleks. We're the only two left. There's no one else. Regenerate!"

"How about that? I win," the Master said with a hint of a smile before his gaze drifted and the Doctor glanced over at Asher as she approached. "What? Come to mock me, hm?"

"No," she muttered, glancing down at her arm and the golden marks shimmering on it once more. "Thank you though. For what you did."

He scoffed, choking slightly. "T-Thanking me? Oh, she is definitely one of yours."

"I'm sorry for what they did to you," she said then, drawing both his and the Doctor's confused gazes before she tapped a beat of four on the Master's arm.

He jerked in the Doctor's hold, reaching out and grabbing her desperately. "The drums. You've heard them. Y-You know something about them."

He was fading though, and quickly. He knew she wouldn't tell him what she knew but there was one thing she could answer.

"Will it stop? The drumming. Will it stop?"

"Soon," she offered before his eyes slipped shut and the Doctor let out a shuddering sob.

He clung to the Master's body, letting out a shout of complaint but soon collected himself and glanced over at Asher when she'd placed a hand on his back in silent comfort. He wanted to question her about what she'd said and what she meant but now wasn't the time. There were still things that needed to be done. He could ask later.