Chapter Thirteen 

Sam 

“Wait a second—so you’re from the future?”  Sam said, and Martha nodded distractedly, her dark eyes quickly scanning their surroundings. They soon fell on Donna, whose eyes were beginning to flutter, and she quickly straightened, still holding onto Sam’s hand.  He stayed were he was, his previous urge to follow her dampened as he reflected on her words.

“We have to go Sam, there’s not much time left.” She said to him, and he looked at Donna again, hesitant to leave her. Martha sighed impatiently, letting go of his hand before walking across the kitchen floor. She stopped at the doorway, then turned back to him, her mouth forming a small almost coy, grin.

“Don’t you want to know what happened—what this was all about?” she said, and he nodded a moment, not wanting to seem too eager. Her hand pushed the door open, and he could hear sounds of fighting outside. More demons, Sam thought, and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

“I have to help them.” He said, and Martha’s smile vanished, her face tight and serious.

“If you want to help them, come with me.” She insisted. “And we have to go now. Don’t worry about Donna, she’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Why are you—”

“Because I’m dead.” She snapped, and his eyes widened slightly, trailing over to his shotgun. Martha rolled her eyes, crossing her arms impatiently, which caused the screen door to shut again.

“I’m not a demon Sam.” She said. “Or a ghost, or vampire—whatever. I’m me. More or less.”

“More or—” Sam shook his head, lifting his hands in front of him as if to stop the onslaught of information. “You just said you were dead, but if you’re from the future then how—I mean, did somebody make some kind of incantation?  Did Dean….did my brother make a fucking deal?”

Martha shook her head and the smile slowly returned to her face, her eyes softening.

“No, nothing like that. Wasn’t needed. It was simple really.” She pushed open the door again. He walked over to her, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Simple?” he said, and her smile grew brighter.

“Yeah.” She replied. “I had a Doctor.”

 The Doctor 

This wasn’t right, there was something—he was missing something, but what was it, he’d thought of all the variables, every possible outcome before they performed the ritual and everything happened just the way he—the way he—

Why was she dead? 

Was it because of him?

“Dean, we gotta…” Bobby began, and Dean only glared at him, Martha still cradled in his arms. The Doctor’s eyes fell her once again, took in her ashen face. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t supposed to end this way. Martha wasn’t…

The Doctor felt his throat closing, grief starting to take hold, but he pushed it back. He had think, to figure things out. It was all he had, the only thing that could—save her.

“We got to salt her body boy.” Bobby said, but Dean just ignored him.

 There was more—there had to be but what?  Everything they’d gone through, the Library, the ship. The sun. And the moon.

The moon….

“Oh.” The Doctor said, his eyes widening as he stared at Martha. “OH! OH, THAT’S IT!”

Dean and Bobby stared at him, with Dean’s red rimmed eyes narrowing with confusion. The Doctor moved over to them then, and carefully too Martha’s lifeless hand in his, feeling the last remnants of her body heat quickly ebbing away.

“Don’t.” Dean said, and The Doctor looked up at him, trying to contain his excitement. If it was what he thought—if he were right….but they had to move quickly.

“Dean.” The Doctor said. “I need to you to let me take her.”

“Fuck off.” Dean said, his voice completely flat as his arms grasped her tighter. The Doctor moved closer, and when it appeared that Bobby might intervene, he held up a hand in warning, silently asking the man to remain still. Bobby looked down at Dean, and nodded, backing away with worried eyes. The Doctor looked back at them, and saw Dean brush a lock of hair from her face, with more tenderness then he thought the boy was capable of.

“I can save her.” The Doctor said, and Dean’s eyes crashed into his. His mouth opened, and closed again, before he was able to speak.

“What did you—did you say…”

“I can save her. I think I can—if I’m right.”

“If you’re—what the fuck are you..”

“We’re running out of time.” The Doctor said, lifting Martha’s hand slightly. “She’s fading, Dean.  I know you’ve just met me…”

“Okay.” Dean said suddenly, which took him by surprise. Dean sucked in a deep breath, and leaned forward, allowing The Doctor to slide his arms beneath her. “She believed in you.” Dean said, once she was in the Doctor arms. “Said you would never—that you’d always help her, find her no matter what.”

The Doctor looked down at Martha’s face for a moment, then back up to Dean’s before he replied.

“She was right.”

Dean

Letting her go caused a pain deep inside his chest, as if she’d been physically ripped from his body. Before the Doctor spoke, his mind was already working, going through every spell, ever summoning he could think of, anything to make her whole again. The guy was so sure, so fucking—he said he could save her. And Dean had let her go, because Martha trusted him. And because he’d do just about anything to have her open her eyes again.

I’ll keep you safe.

That’s what he told her, promised her when they---but he’d just watched when that fucker stabbed her. Like he was fucking useless. Had she really been crying, or was that just another lie to fuck with their heads? 

“Dean, you sure you want to….” Bobby didn’t finish the sentence, only nodded toward The Doctor as the man climbed to his feet, Martha held in his arms. He was skinny as hell, but the man picked her up effortlessly, eyes locked on her face.

“Yeah.” Dean said, reaching for his shotgun as he climbed to his feet. A strange calm had come over him; the only sign of his grief was a high pitch ringing in his ears. Focus. Stay focused.

“What do you need?” Dean asked The Doctor, who glanced warily at the gun in his hand.

“The TARDIS.” The Doctor said, lifting his eyes to Dean’s. “I have to get her back there—it’s sitting behind some trees—”

“Done.” Dean said, cocking the shotgun. He glanced over at Bobby, delivering a pointed look that had the man grumbling under his breath. Bobby cocked his own shotgun, and nodded in agreement.

“I’m in.” Bobby said. “You just take care of the girl, we’ll handle the rest.”

The Doctor pressed Martha closer to his body and set out toward the stairs. Dean placed a hand on his arm, moving in front of him, while Bobby took up the rear, eyes bright and alert. They walked quickly, but cautiously, climbing until they reached the door leading into Ellen’s kitchen.

Dean saw evidence of a struggle, the table kicked off to the side, dishes broken in the floor. And there was Donna, rubbing her hand against her bright red hair, confusion in her blue eyes. Bobby passed them, and set his gun on the table, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?’ he said, and she shook her head.

”No, I’m about as far from bloody okay as you—Oh, my lord, is that Martha?” she gasped. The Doctor moved forward, not bothering to answer as he headed for the door. Dean followed after him, and he heard Bobby speak in a low voice, reassuring a terrified Donna.

“She’s going to be okay.” Bobby said, and a choked sob burst from Donna’s throat.

“How can you say that—all that…there was so much blood...”

“BOBBY!” Dean shouted as they moved outside. A demon was on them immediately, and Dean fired a carefully placed shot into the creature’s face before kicking it aside. “WE NEED YOU!”

“Come on.” Bobby said, and Donna nodded, following behind him as he lifted his gun. They moved as a group, with Bobby and Dean holding off each attack that came their way. Dean realized they were converging on them now, the fight in the front of the house now forgotten.

It was her. They still coming for her, even now that she…

Which meant The Doctor was right, this wasn’t over.

“There!” The Doctor said, and Dean spotted a bright blue phone box sitting in the middle of the trees. Donna ran past him them, moving out in front before Dean could stop her, and tore a key from around her neck. She slammed into the door of the blue box and opened it quickly as a demon leaped toward her. Bobby shot into the creature’s stomach, and it quickly fell to the ground at her feet. To her credit, Donna never flinched, didn’t bother to move until the thing was dead. But when she looked up again, her eyes were bright with fear.

“Any day now gents!” she cried out, and they filed inside, her and The Doctor, then Bobby. Dean took out two more demons, before he backed into the box and shut the door, then almost dropped his gun when he turned around.

“Holy shit.” Dean said, and Bobby nodded, his eyes taking their surroundings.

“Ditto.” Bobby said, and they moved forward slowly, trying to get their bearings. Dean watched The Doctor move to the center of the room, to some kind of big green column, with a bunch of—shit around it.

“Can they get in here?” Bobby said, and Donna shook her head, before looking over to Martha and The Doctor.

“No.” she said, crossing her arms under her chest. One hand lifted to her mouth, and she held back a new round of tears as The Doctor placed Martha next to the console. Dean dropped the gun at his feet, and moved forward, trying his best not to give up hope.

Hoping for miracle. Something he’d stopped doing when was a kid.

The Doctor looked up at the green column, and for the first time Dean saw tears forming in the man’s eyes, desperation on his face. And anger, his features were twisting as rage over began to overtake him.

“It has to work.” The Doctor ground out. “All this—I’m right.  I have to be….”

They all stared silently at Martha who remained lifeless. The Doctor looked down at her again, and placed a shaking hand against her cheek.

“I have to be.”

Sam 

She led him to the side of the house, where a small blue Port-a Potty sat in the middle of a group of trees. There were demons all around, but they just ran past them, focused on something else entirely. Sam asked her how this was possible, and she pointed to a small black key she’d tossed in his hand when they walked outside the house. Said the key allowed them to move undetected, caused some kinda shift in their surroundings, or something. He was just figuring out what she meant when they stopped at the toilet, which led to his current state of even greater confusion.

“You gotta pee first?” he said, and she rolled her eyes before opening the door. Sam shifted on his feet, and she gestured for him to walk inside.

“But I don’t…”

“You should know this part by now.” Martha said. “Bigger on the inside?”

Sam’s eyes grew wide, and moved from her, to the potty, then back to her.

“You—you don’t mean…holy shit….” Sam brought a hand to his mouth, trying to stop the smile threatening to form on his lips. After a moment, he slowly moved inside, seeing what he expected. And more then he ever dreamed.

It was like the TARDIS, only it felt….newer. The middle column was a gleaming white, the panels a mix of blacks and grays. There were none of the random items scattered around, the entire ship was painfully neat, organized.

But still…..it was a TARDIS.

“Is this yours?” Sam said after he’d made several rounds across the room. Martha was at the middle console, pulling levers and pressing buttons, never looking up at his question.

“Yeah.” She said. “Only mine works a bit better.”  Sam stumbled as the ship began to move while Martha gave the bright column a smile of satisfaction.  He looked back at her for a moment, before his excitement faded, his expression muting significantly.

“Where are we going?” he said.

“To the Dämonsun.” She replied instantly. “Or sun demon—whatever you all were calling it, you have to exorcise it.”

“We’re going to exorcise a sun? How the hell are we going to—”

“It’s not really a sun, it was a man centuries ago. He was trapped out there and well….And it’s not we.” She said, moving closer to him. “You Sam. You’re the one who has to destroy the demon. You’re the only one that can at this point.” 

Sam was quietly for a moment, before speaking again.

“It was you.” he said quietly, and her head lifted at his words.

“Yes.” Martha said. “Yes, it was.”

“The Doctor not being able to control the TARDIS, it taking us to all those places. The whole time, he thought it was him, that the ship was inside his mind or something. But it wasn’t. It was inside yours.”

Martha reached down and pulled the sonic screwdriver from her waist, holding it up for him to see.

“Jack Harkness bought this off a Slytheen, who stole it from a Kiltar warrior five hundred years from now. That warrior stole it from me when I was held captive on a bartering ship. Five hundred years in to your future.”

Sam’s head bean to slowly move from side to side, his voice becoming slightly hoarse.

“But you’re—how is that possible?” he said, and Martha moved forward until they were only a few feet away.

“Because.” She said deliberately. “We are time. The beginning. The middle and the end.”

“That means...” Sam stumbled over his words. “You’re saying you’re a…”

“Time Lord.” Martha replied, then held up her hands to give a gentle wave of her fingers. “Surprise?”

 Martha 

There was light.  And she thought she was dying.

And then, it grew brighter, heated her face and her chest. And she began to feel again—the cool hard floor, her fingers. Slightly numb, but there. She could move them, at least she thought she could. And she could feel her heart. Steady, regular beats pounding in her chest.

Beats. As in—more then one?

“BLOODY HELL!” she gasped, her eyes popping open as she brought a frantic hand to her chest. She could feel them, the two hearts pounding away, quickening as the panic began to overtake her.

“Martha.” The Doctor said, and she felt him attempt to grab hold of her. But she pulled away, scrambling on her knees across the floor, trying desperately to catch her breath.

“Martha, calm down.” The Doctor said, and she twisted her body to face him, a hand grasping her chest.

“Calm down? Really?” she said, her voice several octaves too high. She began to look around wildly, and saw the eyes staring, faces all turned her way. And she wanted to scream.

“Martha.”

Dean. Oh, god that was Dean’s voice, where was he?  Did they do this to him too?

“Martha, look at me.” Dean said. He was crouched in front of her, she didn’t even see him move. He was just there.

“What’s wrong with me?” She whispered, and she saw him smile

“Nothing.” He said. “You’re okay—you’re…a fucking miracle.”

A nervous laugh burst forth from her lips as he pulled her into him. Her arms instantly went around his body, and she clung to him tightly as her eyes slowly lifted to the rest of the cabin.

TARDIS. They were inside the TARDIS, which meant…

“Doctor.” She whispered, and she felt Dean tense up in her arms, his body slowly move away from hers. Martha looked at Dean for a moment, before he smiled at her, then they slowly began to climb to their feet.

The Doctor stood next to the center column, the green light illuminating his withdrawn face. Martha looked down at her clothes and saw the blood. She remembered the knife, the pain that it had caused. The Master. Inside her, he’d been inside her body, and now…

Now she had two heartbeats.

“What—”

“His biological imprint.” The Doctor said quietly. There was sadness in her eyes that made her take Dean’s hand into her own. 

“I warned him.” The Doctor continued. “That we weren’t like humans, that if he stayed inside you much longer—that you would start to—”

“He’s inside me?” Martha said. “He—he’s part of me.”

“Yes.” The Doctor said. “Biologically of course, not his mind. At least—I don’t think it is, it’s all new territory for me at this point.”

“He saved your life.” Donna said, and Martha blinked at her, before being able to focus on the woman completely. Donna looked over a The Doctor, then move forward, a tentative smile on her lips.

“I saw it—we all did. He brought you here and—there was a light.” Donna pointed to the green column, which continue to grow brightly in the dimly lit ship. “At first it came from the ship and then—it came from you. Rose up from your mouth and…you’re alive. He brought you back.”

“No.” The Doctor said. “I just brought her here, I thought—perhaps that it had been long enough, that his biology had already mixed with yours. And I was right.”

Martha closed her eyes a moment, before opening them again.

“Yes.” She said finally. “Yes, you were. Only—what the hell am I? I have another heart in my chest and I feel—I’m seeing—wavy lines and….”

“Time” The Doctor said, and began to walk closer to them. Martha felt Dean’s grip on her arm tighten as the man moved closer, but she didn’t look away, could only keep her eyes glued to The Doctor’s face.

“I see time? Like you?” she said softly and he nodded, looking back and for the between her and Dean.

“I’m sorry Martha.” The Doctor said. “I’m so, so sorry.”