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locker_monsterTitle: The Other Side of the World (22/31)
Rating: PG
Characters: Rose, Martha
Timeline: Season three
Summary: Season three AU; After a fateful visit to Royal Hope Hospital, Rose finds herself lost in time and space with medical student Martha Jones. As they struggle to find a way home, they meet old friends, and old enemies, along the way...
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Any borrowed dialogue belongs to Russell T Davies and the BBC.
A/N: A sequel to "The Other Side". It's not necessary reading; it just sets up the premise that it was the Doctor who was trapped in Pete's World, not Rose. And a shout-out to my awesome betas:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
joking and quean_of_swords. This story wouldn't have been posted without you guys.
Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Chapter Eleven. Chapter Twelve. Chapter Thirteen. Chapter Fourteen. Chapter Fifteen. Chapter Sixteen. Chapter Seventeen. Chapter Eighteen. Chapter Nineteen. Chapter Twenty. Chapter Twenty-One.
At the sound of footsteps, Martha ducked back around the corner of the corridor and pressed herself against the wall. She held her breath, hoping none of the footsteps would start to head in her direction. After a tense few seconds, the footfall began to retreat away from her position and she let out that breath. She took a quick peek around the corner to ensure they hadn’t been discovered.
They met gazes for just a split second, across the length of the corridor. It was so fleeting Martha thought maybe she hadn’t been seen, but the reaction was enough to convince her she had.
Rose Tyler smiled at her.
The smile quickly disappeared and Rose continued on walking with the Master, slipping back into the role of Lucy Saxon.
Martha quietly slipped away from the corner filled with renewed purpose. At a control console just a few levels down from the bridge, she found the Torchwood team. Jack was issuing last minute orders to Tosh and Owen, agreeing on a pre-determined meeting spot. They only had five minutes to go before eight o’clock and the pair was understandably more focused on disabling Archangel than listening to Jack.
“No one saw you?” Gwen asked Martha, noticing she had returned.
She shook her head. “The Master’s making his way up to the bridge. We should probably go, too.” Fleeting, Martha wished they had more time. They didn’t have much of a plan; it was whatever Jack and Gwen had agreed upon between the trek from the TARDIS to the control console. Gwen had asked her to scout ahead so she could finalize details with Jack, the request enduring the woman to Martha. For a few minutes, she had felt like part of the team, that she was actually doing something to stop the Master.
Leaving Tosh and Owen to their work, Jack led the way up to the bridge. He freed his gun from his holster and kept it pointed at the ground as he ran. It seemed unfair that they would have to shoot someone, if it came down to it, so they could get to the Master, but Martha was starting to see sacrifices had to be made sometimes.
At the top of the stairwell, Jack pressed close to the door and peeked through the small window. Standing on the tips of her toes behind him, Martha caught a glimpse of UNIT soldiers leaving the bridge.
“That’s helpful,” whispered Gwen. No one stood between them and the bridge.
One by one they slipped out from the stairwell and snuck up to the door. Martha remained behind Jack as he opened the door just a crack. She couldn’t see beyond onto the bridge but she could hear President Winters addressing the cameras.
“My fellow Americans, patriots, people of the world… I stand before you today as ambassador for humanity, a role I will undertake with utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much, but that is important is not that we gain material benefits, but that we learn to see ourselves anew.”
“How will we know when Tosh and Owen disable Archangel?” asked Martha.
Jack nudged the door open a little further while across from them Ianto and Gwen readied their guns. “It doesn’t matter if the Master isn’t on camera for the world to see.”
“And I ask you now,” continued Winters, “I ask of the human race, to join with me in welcoming our friends. I give you the Toclafane.”
The alien orbs arrived with what sounded like cars zooming by. The noise repeated three times, indicating they were three Toclafane now on the bridge. Martha gripped the sleeve of Jack’s coat as she leaned against him to see what was happening.
“My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President of the United States of America and designated representative of the United Nations. I welcome you to the planet Earth and its associated moon.”
A similar childlike voice, like the one Martha heard on the television spoke. “You’re not the Master.”
“We like the Mr. Master,” said another Toclafane.
“We don’t like you,” said a third.
“I… can be Master, if you so wish.” For the first time, Winters seemed perplexed, maybe even a little scared. “I will accept mastery over you if that is God’s will.”
“Man is stupid.”
“Master is our friend.”
“Where’s my Master, pretty please?” The Toclafane spoke quickly, one after the other, never losing their infantile tone.
“Oh, all right then. It’s me. Ta-da!” The Master’s voice sounded, almost too gleefully. “Sorry. Sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed. Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don’t know. It’s crazy!”
Just hearing the Master speak made Martha grit her teeth. His tone was too light, too dismissive for someone who had tried to destroy the Earth more than a few times.
“Saxon, what are you talking about?” demanded Winters.
“I’m taking control, Uncle Sam. Starting with you. Kill him.”
Jack threw the door aside, pulling it open with a crash, but as quickly as he reacted, it wasn’t enough. Even as he charged forward, one of the Toclafane flew in front of Winters and with one laser shot disintegrated the man where he stood. His ashes floated down, covering the small set of stairs where he stood. With a simple command, the Master had killed the man without remorse or regret.
Raising his gun, Jack turned his aim on the Master. A mere second had passed since Winters’ murder and the room seemed to be on a delay. No one moved to stop Jack. He had a clear shot.
The Master pulled out his own weapon before Jack could squeeze the trigger. For a second, Martha thought it was another gun, but rather than a bullet, a yellow laser beam shot out from the device, striking Jack square in the chest. The captain’s entire body seized up and he collapsed onto the floor, his gun skidding uselessly out of his limp grip.
“Guards!” At the Master’s commend, men from his security force grabbed Martha, Ianto, and Gwen, stripping the Torchwood members of their guns. Gwen struggled against her captor while Ianto regarded the man holding him with scorn. Martha tugged against her captor’s grip but he didn’t relent.
“Oh, do excuse me,” said the Master, addressing the cameras that were still taping, “little bit of personal business. Back in a minute.”
He turned to Rose, whose ever faithful Lucy Saxon persona had dropped the moment Winters had died. “Sneaking out secrets to your little pals at Torchwood. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Rose said nothing and remained seated in her chair. The Master scowled, but he seemed complacent that he wouldn’t get a response from her.
“Martha Jones.” An eager grin appeared on the Master’s face. He walked over to talk to her, but stopped at Jack’s limp form and casually placed his foot on Jack’s back. “Been a long time since we saw each other. Must be, what, one hundred trillion years?”
Meeting the Master, face to face, Martha was aware of how he made her skin crawl. He could smile all he wanted but there was no kindness in the Master’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
The grin never left his face. “I should thank you. If you and Rose and ol’ Captain Jack here,” the Master crushed his foot down on Jack’s back, “hadn’t found me at the end of the universe none of this would have been possible.” The Master glanced up at the three Toclafane still hovering around. “And Rose has been such a wonderful companion this past year and a half. The three of you truly have made my life better.”
“We should have left you behind,” muttered Martha.
“Really? Kindly Yana?” The Master frowned mockingly. “I thought you were a doctor. What happened to ‘do no harm’?”
“It doesn’t count with nutters like you.”
Narrowing his eyes, the Master pointed his weapon at Martha’s chest. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, drowning out Gwen and Ianto’s protests.
“Is it time?” One of the Toclafane flew past the Master.
“Is it ready?” added another.
“Is the machine singing?” The third sphere buzzed around the room, almost excitedly if such an emotion could be applied.
The Master glanced at his watch before lowering his weapon. He smiled at Martha, as if making a silent promise, before turning to the cameras. “Two minutes past. So! Earthlings. Basically, um, end of the world.” Raising his laser weapon over his head, the Master shouted, “Here…come…the drums!”
Music blared over hidden speakers as the three Toclafane disappeared in flashes of light. Outside, something rumbled against the hull of the Valiant, but the Master was too busy dancing to the beat of the song to notice.
He didn’t hear Jack wake with a pained gasp.
With one kick to the Master’s kneecap, Jack knocked him off his feet. As the Master crashed against the conference room table, Rose shot out of her chair and made a grab for Jack’s forgotten gun. In her haste, she only managed to fire off a few shaky shots but one struck dangerously close to Martha and her captor. The man let her go and reached for his gun, intent on shooting Rose. Seizing on the opportunity, Gwen smashed her heel down on her captor’s foot before hitting him in the face with the back of her head. Suddenly free as the man’s hands flew to his bleeding nose, Gwen tackled Martha’s captor and knocked him to the floor.
“Run!” Gwen shouted at Martha.
At first her feet refused to move. She became acutely aware of everything in the room, like time had stopped for a moment. Gwen was on the floor, trying to pin Martha’s captor; Ianto struggled against his guard but with no success; Jack was on his feet, ready to take down the Master; and Rose stood with Jack’s gun in her hand. Already the rest of the security detail was moving forward to subdue the situation.
Yellow laser light flashed again and the world flooded back into focus for Martha. Jack fell to his knees, a smoking burn marring his stomach. The Master turned and faced Martha, greeting her with a bloodthirsty grin.
She ran.
Her hurried strides took her out of the bridge and back into the maintenance corridors. Behind her, men with guns pursued her, their footfall heavy against the metal plating of the floor. Hisses of steam obscured her path and she didn’t see Owen and Tosh until she ran into them. She nearly bowled Owen off his feet but he steadied himself before they could both fall.
“Where’s Jack?” Owen asked frantically.
Martha tried to calm her racing breath but she heard the approaching men before she could say anything. She tugged on Owen’s arm, intent on getting him and Tosh out of the corridor, when the shot rang out.
Owen stumbled back, blood steaming down his right shoulder. He shouted in pain as Tosh pulled her gun and fired back.
“No time!” Martha snarled as Owen slumped against the wall. Tosh caught a glimpse of Owen’s bullet wound and her eyes widened. She fired off a few more shots before helping Martha to shoulder Owen’s weight. They half carried him, half dragged him down the corridor but his limp form hampered their escape.
They needed to get off the Valiant, and fast.
Escape hatch. Through the steam, Martha saw a circular hatch similar to the one Jack had shown her. “Tosh.” She steered them towards it.
Tosh slipped out from under Owen’s shoulder and lifted the door of the hatch. A small chamber was revealed on the other side, about the same size as the interior of Martha’s car. The three of them piled in, Martha awkwardly pulling Owen inside. The shoulder of his jacket was soaked with dark red blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the sleeve of Martha’s jacket in his hand.
The hatch slammed shut as the lights in the chamber came on. Tosh sat at a console, manipulating the controls. It wasn’t an escape hatch. It was an escape pod.
A loud clang shook the pod and suddenly they were falling. Martha’s stomach did somersaults, like she were on a fast moving rollercoaster. She clung to Owen, her free hand applying pressure to his wound. There was no window in the escape pod, thankfully; Martha didn’t want to see the approaching ground below flying towards them.
The pod jerked upwards, as if they were on a string and someone had yanked on it. When the landing came, it jarred Martha’s bones and she smacked her head against the bulkhead, filling her visions with stars. Even after the pod had landed, she still felt like they were falling, the weightless feeling refusing to leave her. It was Tosh calling Owen’s name that pushed her into action.
She shoved the hatch open and found a yellow sheet draped over the pod. Pushing it aside, Martha realized it was a parachute. Its deployment had slowed their fall, allowing them to land relatively unscathed. A long furrow had been cut in the grass of the field where the pod now rested.
“Look for a first aid kit,” Martha said to Tosh. She lifted the parachute out of the way so she and the scientist could move Owen more easily.
A city on the horizon drew Martha’s attention. The parachute fluttered to the ground as she gazed at the city. The sky above swarmed with Toclafane, their numbers so many they almost blotted out the sun. The wind shifted and Martha caught a whiff of burning flesh.
The Earth was being slaughtered.
Somewhere above her, Rose, Jack, Gwen, and Ianto were still on the Valiant, trapped with the Master. In London, her family was alone and unprotected. Around the world, people were screaming out in pain and horror.
And Martha Jones stood on a hillside, defiance building within her.
She balled her hands into fists, one sticky with Owen’s blood. “I’m coming back,” Martha vowed softly.
Rating: PG
Characters: Rose, Martha
Timeline: Season three
Summary: Season three AU; After a fateful visit to Royal Hope Hospital, Rose finds herself lost in time and space with medical student Martha Jones. As they struggle to find a way home, they meet old friends, and old enemies, along the way...
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Any borrowed dialogue belongs to Russell T Davies and the BBC.
A/N: A sequel to "The Other Side". It's not necessary reading; it just sets up the premise that it was the Doctor who was trapped in Pete's World, not Rose. And a shout-out to my awesome betas:
joking and quean_of_swords. This story wouldn't have been posted without you guys.Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Chapter Eleven. Chapter Twelve. Chapter Thirteen. Chapter Fourteen. Chapter Fifteen. Chapter Sixteen. Chapter Seventeen. Chapter Eighteen. Chapter Nineteen. Chapter Twenty. Chapter Twenty-One.
At the sound of footsteps, Martha ducked back around the corner of the corridor and pressed herself against the wall. She held her breath, hoping none of the footsteps would start to head in her direction. After a tense few seconds, the footfall began to retreat away from her position and she let out that breath. She took a quick peek around the corner to ensure they hadn’t been discovered.
They met gazes for just a split second, across the length of the corridor. It was so fleeting Martha thought maybe she hadn’t been seen, but the reaction was enough to convince her she had.
Rose Tyler smiled at her.
The smile quickly disappeared and Rose continued on walking with the Master, slipping back into the role of Lucy Saxon.
Martha quietly slipped away from the corner filled with renewed purpose. At a control console just a few levels down from the bridge, she found the Torchwood team. Jack was issuing last minute orders to Tosh and Owen, agreeing on a pre-determined meeting spot. They only had five minutes to go before eight o’clock and the pair was understandably more focused on disabling Archangel than listening to Jack.
“No one saw you?” Gwen asked Martha, noticing she had returned.
She shook her head. “The Master’s making his way up to the bridge. We should probably go, too.” Fleeting, Martha wished they had more time. They didn’t have much of a plan; it was whatever Jack and Gwen had agreed upon between the trek from the TARDIS to the control console. Gwen had asked her to scout ahead so she could finalize details with Jack, the request enduring the woman to Martha. For a few minutes, she had felt like part of the team, that she was actually doing something to stop the Master.
Leaving Tosh and Owen to their work, Jack led the way up to the bridge. He freed his gun from his holster and kept it pointed at the ground as he ran. It seemed unfair that they would have to shoot someone, if it came down to it, so they could get to the Master, but Martha was starting to see sacrifices had to be made sometimes.
At the top of the stairwell, Jack pressed close to the door and peeked through the small window. Standing on the tips of her toes behind him, Martha caught a glimpse of UNIT soldiers leaving the bridge.
“That’s helpful,” whispered Gwen. No one stood between them and the bridge.
One by one they slipped out from the stairwell and snuck up to the door. Martha remained behind Jack as he opened the door just a crack. She couldn’t see beyond onto the bridge but she could hear President Winters addressing the cameras.
“My fellow Americans, patriots, people of the world… I stand before you today as ambassador for humanity, a role I will undertake with utmost solemnity. Perhaps our Toclafane cousins can offer us much, but that is important is not that we gain material benefits, but that we learn to see ourselves anew.”
“How will we know when Tosh and Owen disable Archangel?” asked Martha.
Jack nudged the door open a little further while across from them Ianto and Gwen readied their guns. “It doesn’t matter if the Master isn’t on camera for the world to see.”
“And I ask you now,” continued Winters, “I ask of the human race, to join with me in welcoming our friends. I give you the Toclafane.”
The alien orbs arrived with what sounded like cars zooming by. The noise repeated three times, indicating they were three Toclafane now on the bridge. Martha gripped the sleeve of Jack’s coat as she leaned against him to see what was happening.
“My name is Arthur Coleman Winters, President of the United States of America and designated representative of the United Nations. I welcome you to the planet Earth and its associated moon.”
A similar childlike voice, like the one Martha heard on the television spoke. “You’re not the Master.”
“We like the Mr. Master,” said another Toclafane.
“We don’t like you,” said a third.
“I… can be Master, if you so wish.” For the first time, Winters seemed perplexed, maybe even a little scared. “I will accept mastery over you if that is God’s will.”
“Man is stupid.”
“Master is our friend.”
“Where’s my Master, pretty please?” The Toclafane spoke quickly, one after the other, never losing their infantile tone.
“Oh, all right then. It’s me. Ta-da!” The Master’s voice sounded, almost too gleefully. “Sorry. Sorry, I have this effect. People just get obsessed. Is it the smile? Is it the aftershave? Is it the capacity to laugh at myself? I don’t know. It’s crazy!”
Just hearing the Master speak made Martha grit her teeth. His tone was too light, too dismissive for someone who had tried to destroy the Earth more than a few times.
“Saxon, what are you talking about?” demanded Winters.
“I’m taking control, Uncle Sam. Starting with you. Kill him.”
Jack threw the door aside, pulling it open with a crash, but as quickly as he reacted, it wasn’t enough. Even as he charged forward, one of the Toclafane flew in front of Winters and with one laser shot disintegrated the man where he stood. His ashes floated down, covering the small set of stairs where he stood. With a simple command, the Master had killed the man without remorse or regret.
Raising his gun, Jack turned his aim on the Master. A mere second had passed since Winters’ murder and the room seemed to be on a delay. No one moved to stop Jack. He had a clear shot.
The Master pulled out his own weapon before Jack could squeeze the trigger. For a second, Martha thought it was another gun, but rather than a bullet, a yellow laser beam shot out from the device, striking Jack square in the chest. The captain’s entire body seized up and he collapsed onto the floor, his gun skidding uselessly out of his limp grip.
“Guards!” At the Master’s commend, men from his security force grabbed Martha, Ianto, and Gwen, stripping the Torchwood members of their guns. Gwen struggled against her captor while Ianto regarded the man holding him with scorn. Martha tugged against her captor’s grip but he didn’t relent.
“Oh, do excuse me,” said the Master, addressing the cameras that were still taping, “little bit of personal business. Back in a minute.”
He turned to Rose, whose ever faithful Lucy Saxon persona had dropped the moment Winters had died. “Sneaking out secrets to your little pals at Torchwood. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Rose said nothing and remained seated in her chair. The Master scowled, but he seemed complacent that he wouldn’t get a response from her.
“Martha Jones.” An eager grin appeared on the Master’s face. He walked over to talk to her, but stopped at Jack’s limp form and casually placed his foot on Jack’s back. “Been a long time since we saw each other. Must be, what, one hundred trillion years?”
Meeting the Master, face to face, Martha was aware of how he made her skin crawl. He could smile all he wanted but there was no kindness in the Master’s eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
The grin never left his face. “I should thank you. If you and Rose and ol’ Captain Jack here,” the Master crushed his foot down on Jack’s back, “hadn’t found me at the end of the universe none of this would have been possible.” The Master glanced up at the three Toclafane still hovering around. “And Rose has been such a wonderful companion this past year and a half. The three of you truly have made my life better.”
“We should have left you behind,” muttered Martha.
“Really? Kindly Yana?” The Master frowned mockingly. “I thought you were a doctor. What happened to ‘do no harm’?”
“It doesn’t count with nutters like you.”
Narrowing his eyes, the Master pointed his weapon at Martha’s chest. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, drowning out Gwen and Ianto’s protests.
“Is it time?” One of the Toclafane flew past the Master.
“Is it ready?” added another.
“Is the machine singing?” The third sphere buzzed around the room, almost excitedly if such an emotion could be applied.
The Master glanced at his watch before lowering his weapon. He smiled at Martha, as if making a silent promise, before turning to the cameras. “Two minutes past. So! Earthlings. Basically, um, end of the world.” Raising his laser weapon over his head, the Master shouted, “Here…come…the drums!”
Music blared over hidden speakers as the three Toclafane disappeared in flashes of light. Outside, something rumbled against the hull of the Valiant, but the Master was too busy dancing to the beat of the song to notice.
He didn’t hear Jack wake with a pained gasp.
With one kick to the Master’s kneecap, Jack knocked him off his feet. As the Master crashed against the conference room table, Rose shot out of her chair and made a grab for Jack’s forgotten gun. In her haste, she only managed to fire off a few shaky shots but one struck dangerously close to Martha and her captor. The man let her go and reached for his gun, intent on shooting Rose. Seizing on the opportunity, Gwen smashed her heel down on her captor’s foot before hitting him in the face with the back of her head. Suddenly free as the man’s hands flew to his bleeding nose, Gwen tackled Martha’s captor and knocked him to the floor.
“Run!” Gwen shouted at Martha.
At first her feet refused to move. She became acutely aware of everything in the room, like time had stopped for a moment. Gwen was on the floor, trying to pin Martha’s captor; Ianto struggled against his guard but with no success; Jack was on his feet, ready to take down the Master; and Rose stood with Jack’s gun in her hand. Already the rest of the security detail was moving forward to subdue the situation.
Yellow laser light flashed again and the world flooded back into focus for Martha. Jack fell to his knees, a smoking burn marring his stomach. The Master turned and faced Martha, greeting her with a bloodthirsty grin.
She ran.
Her hurried strides took her out of the bridge and back into the maintenance corridors. Behind her, men with guns pursued her, their footfall heavy against the metal plating of the floor. Hisses of steam obscured her path and she didn’t see Owen and Tosh until she ran into them. She nearly bowled Owen off his feet but he steadied himself before they could both fall.
“Where’s Jack?” Owen asked frantically.
Martha tried to calm her racing breath but she heard the approaching men before she could say anything. She tugged on Owen’s arm, intent on getting him and Tosh out of the corridor, when the shot rang out.
Owen stumbled back, blood steaming down his right shoulder. He shouted in pain as Tosh pulled her gun and fired back.
“No time!” Martha snarled as Owen slumped against the wall. Tosh caught a glimpse of Owen’s bullet wound and her eyes widened. She fired off a few more shots before helping Martha to shoulder Owen’s weight. They half carried him, half dragged him down the corridor but his limp form hampered their escape.
They needed to get off the Valiant, and fast.
Escape hatch. Through the steam, Martha saw a circular hatch similar to the one Jack had shown her. “Tosh.” She steered them towards it.
Tosh slipped out from under Owen’s shoulder and lifted the door of the hatch. A small chamber was revealed on the other side, about the same size as the interior of Martha’s car. The three of them piled in, Martha awkwardly pulling Owen inside. The shoulder of his jacket was soaked with dark red blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the sleeve of Martha’s jacket in his hand.
The hatch slammed shut as the lights in the chamber came on. Tosh sat at a console, manipulating the controls. It wasn’t an escape hatch. It was an escape pod.
A loud clang shook the pod and suddenly they were falling. Martha’s stomach did somersaults, like she were on a fast moving rollercoaster. She clung to Owen, her free hand applying pressure to his wound. There was no window in the escape pod, thankfully; Martha didn’t want to see the approaching ground below flying towards them.
The pod jerked upwards, as if they were on a string and someone had yanked on it. When the landing came, it jarred Martha’s bones and she smacked her head against the bulkhead, filling her visions with stars. Even after the pod had landed, she still felt like they were falling, the weightless feeling refusing to leave her. It was Tosh calling Owen’s name that pushed her into action.
She shoved the hatch open and found a yellow sheet draped over the pod. Pushing it aside, Martha realized it was a parachute. Its deployment had slowed their fall, allowing them to land relatively unscathed. A long furrow had been cut in the grass of the field where the pod now rested.
“Look for a first aid kit,” Martha said to Tosh. She lifted the parachute out of the way so she and the scientist could move Owen more easily.
A city on the horizon drew Martha’s attention. The parachute fluttered to the ground as she gazed at the city. The sky above swarmed with Toclafane, their numbers so many they almost blotted out the sun. The wind shifted and Martha caught a whiff of burning flesh.
The Earth was being slaughtered.
Somewhere above her, Rose, Jack, Gwen, and Ianto were still on the Valiant, trapped with the Master. In London, her family was alone and unprotected. Around the world, people were screaming out in pain and horror.
And Martha Jones stood on a hillside, defiance building within her.
She balled her hands into fists, one sticky with Owen’s blood. “I’m coming back,” Martha vowed softly.
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