Chapter Four

Martha

She feel asleep at one point during the drive, she wasn’t sure when. It was an impressive feat actually, considering she was freezing, wet, and being attacked by acid rock guitar riffs.

Dean didn’t speak much, just kept his eyes on the road, which was fine with her. Martha was tired of arguing. Tired of wondering why she was still here.

Of wondering why The Doctor hadn’t found her yet.

She woke briefly when the car stopped, and watched Dean jump out of the driver’s seat without a backwards glance. Martha barely opened her eyes, not wanting to signal that she was awake and start the fighting up again.

They were at a motel, which she’d expected, but Dean walked to the nearest room, and pulled out a door key. Martha allowed her gaze to linger on his lean, muscled body, of which she had a nice view now that she wore his leather jacket. Her eyes found the sinewy muscle of his forearm, and she shivered a bit, not just from the cold.

The spell was broken as he walked inside, and Martha quickly averted her eyes from the door.

“Stop it, Jones” she said. “That road only ends more tears. Had quite enough of that.”

And sex, she thought, eyes drifting back to the now slightly ajar door. Lots and lots of..

“Enough!” She yelled, shutting her eyes tightly.

“Enough of what?”

Martha jumped at the sound of his voice, hitting her head on the car window beside her. Dean lifted his eyebrow at the sight, his own head peaking through the driver’s side window, which had been rolled down to the halfway point.

“Nothing.” Martha murmured, putting her hand to what was sure to become a substantial lump. “Are we staying here?”

“Nope.” Dean said, and walked to the back of the car, quickly opening the trunk. Martha waited quietly until he returned, and watched him slide easily back in the driver’s seat.

“Why not?”

“Because Bobby’s not here.” Dean said, and started the car. Martha stared at him silently, and then lifted her hands in frustration.

“Aright, I’ll have a go. Who’s Bobby?”

“Bobby’s a friend; he’ll let us crash for a while. Help us figure this shit out.”

Martha nodded, staring out into the dark as he pulled out of the parking lot. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and she looked at him, slightly startled.

“You said we weren’t staying? As in, not coming back to the motel?”

“Yep.” Dean said. Martha fell into silence, then shook her head, a relieved smile forming on her face.

“You know, I must have been asleep when you went to the office to check out the room. I just missed it.”

The hazel gaze slid her way, before returning to the road. Her smile faded.

“You did pay for that room? You didn’t just…leave?”

“I left the maid a tip. Does that count?”

“Oh, you.…why would you do that, you have money—do you have money?”

Martha was slightly disturbed to realize that she didn’t have any, only a spare quid in her damp jeans pocket.

Dean only smiled, which actually put her slightly more at ease.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sam and I…well, we got in some trouble awhile back, and decided it would be best to lay low, try to avoid things like security cameras. The office had three of them pointed at the damn desk, plus the room was a fucking pit, so I wasn’t really excited about paying for it anyway.”

“So you just…skipped out on the bill that—hold on.” Martha twisted in her seat, her eyes now fully alert. “When you say trouble, do you mean the police are after you?”

Dean’s head wavered from side to side before answering.

“If I say yes, do you promise not to go all Brit shrill on me, cause my head can’t take it.”

“I do not go Brit shrill, whatever the hell that means.”

“You’re doing it right now.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, ya are...”

“No I….” Martha closed her eyes tightly, and took in a deep breath. “Stop avoiding my question.”

“You caught that huh?”

“I’m very clever.” She said flatly. Dean sighed and cleared his throat.

“There may be a few warrants out for me and my brother in a couple of states.”

“How many is a couple?”

“Oh…only….maybe…twelve?”

Martha fought off the shocked gasp that threatened to escape her lips, which resulted in an odd strangled gulping noise.

“And when you say wanted, what exactly do you mean?” She shifted in the seat, her eyes never wavering from his face. He didn’t say anything for a while, then brought a hand up to run across his chin. He’d tensed up, she’d noticed it immediately, and as she waited for an answer, she began to question whether she truly wanted to hear what he might say.

Finally, Dean slowed the car, stopping at an empty intersection. He turned his head toward her, his cocky expression transformed into something decidedly more grim.

“We’re wanted for grave robbing. We…dug up some bodies in a few places, and it pissed some folks off.”

Martha was still for a moment, before erupting in hysterical laughter, her body shaking against the seat. Dean watched as she bent forward, grabbing her now aching stomach, until finally she dissolved into soft giggles.

“I thought…” she gasped. “I thought you were going to say murder or something. That you’d hacked some poor girl to pieces.”

Dean cleared his throat, and pushed the gas pedal on the car, sending them forward again.

“That’s insane.” Martha said, smiling at him. “Right?”

Her smile began to fade.

“Dean?”

“Would it help if I told you she was already dead?”

Sam

He stood against a beam in the TARDIS, watching The Doctor watch what Sam now knew was called a sonic screwdriver. The Doctor didn’t take his eyes off the thing until they were back in the ship, then sat it down on the console in front of him. Sam wasn’t even sure what it was for, if it would actually fix anything. And of course, The Doctor hadn’t volunteered that information.

He just…stared at it.

Sam refused to sit on that step again, his body was too long to fit in such a small space. So he stood in the middle of the ship, eyeing the man before him. The Doctor was slumped over the panel, his arms crossed on the surface. His chin was propped on top of them, and he stared at his find intently, his expression almost….melancholy.

“So we found something.” Sam said. The Doctor’s head bobbed up and down against his forearms, but he didn’t move from his slumped perch. Sam rolled his eyes, and began to whistle, looking around the TARDIS disinterestedly.

“Did you mother tell you that it’s impolite to whistle?” The Doctor said.

Sam stopped, his eyebrows narrowing slightly as body tensed. He hated when people brought up his mother.

“No.” he said, not wanting to explain that she’d never had a chance to tell him anything really. At least, nothing he could remember.

“Well, it is.” The Doctor said.

“I think you’re making that up actually.”

“It’s true on this ship. Have a seat Sam, we’re not going anywhere. Not until she decides.”

The Doctor’s head finally lifted as he gazed at the long column in the center of the room.

Sam nodded, but he didn’t sit, still feeling the painful knot on his head from the last time.

“I’m okay.” Sam said. “I just wish I knew what that meant.” He pointed to the screwdriver, and The Doctor nodded in agreement.

“So do I…” The Doctor said, once again picking up the tool. “I left this in The Library the last time I was there, River—a friend of mine, it was hers. Well, it was mine, then it was hers—well…” The Doctor straightened; his eyes squinting as he appeared to mentally pull the information from the air. “Actually, it was Jack’s, I got it from him ages ago.”

“Jack?” Sam said.

“Oh, you don’t know him.” The Doctor said.

“I realize that. Who is he?”

“Jack?” The Doctor scratched his head. “Jack Harkness is…complicated. Yes, that’s it.”

“Complicated.” Sam said, a wry smile on his face. “What, you two have some kinda history together?”

“Absolutely not.” The Doctor said quickly, then stumbled as the TARDIS roared to life. Sam heard a loud noise, like two large gears moving together. The Doctor grabbed hold of the panel, and Sam immediately followed suit, and looked up at the now glowing green column, transfixed by the beam of light moving up and down inside.

“Fantastic, isn’t it?” The Doctor said, a small smile on his lips. Sam nodded, his eyes still watching the display in front of him.

“Yeah.” Sam said, his own smile forming. “Yeah, it is.”

Dean

“What the fuck are you doing hear this late? Don’t you know how to use a goddamn phone?”

Dean smiled as he stood on the wooden porch, then opened his arms wide, ready for a bear hug.

“Hey Bobby!”

Bobby Singer glared back at him, his round, grizzled face slightly splotchy and creased from his pillow, his heavyset body clothed in only a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Dean had knocked on the door for ten minutes before the man finally answered.

“Well.” Bobby said. “I’m up, what is it?”

“We need to crash.” Dean said, dropping his arms to the side. “And can I just say, the lack of enthusiasm breaks my heart man. I hurt, right here.” He said, pointing to his chest.

“You want a happy welcome, there’s a Day’s Inn up the road.” Bobby grumbled. He looked behind Dean at the Impala in his driveway.

“Where’s your brother, hiding? He knew better than to wake me up, I bet.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of Sam’s name.

“Sam’s not here.” He said. Bobby looked at him curiously.

‘Well, where is he?”

“That’s the million dollar fucking question.” Dean grumbled. “I’m not sure—I mean, I have an idea that’s kinda more a crazy assed theory. And it’s not even mine.”

Bobby stared at him in silence.

“He kinda…disappeared?” Dean finished. Bobby crossed his arms over his chest.

“Sam’s missing and you’re just now telling me? Dammit Dean, why the fuck didn’t you call me when it happened? I could have hit the phones, called a few of the guys. You know they’ll come running if a hunter’s missing, we stick together boy.”

“Yeah, I know Bobby but this…” Dean shook his head.. “Shit, I wouldn’t know the first thing to tell…”

“Hold on.” Bobby said sharply, his eyes moving behind Dean to rest on the Impala. “Before, you said we need to crash. If Sam’s gone, who…”

Dean looked back to see the car door opening and Martha sliding out, pulling his jacket even tighter around her body. He could see she was shaking from patio, and a wave of guilt rushed through him as she approached the house.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to really have to take a pee.” She said as she approached them. “Could I use your toilet?”

It took a few seconds, but Bobby’s response was swift. He shoved Dean aside, and reached out for Martha’s hand, guiding her inside the house.

“Of course you can, did he just leave you in that damn car this whole time?” Bobby said. Martha smiled gratefully.

“Yes, he did, but I’m learning not to hold those things against him. Doesn’t appear to know any better, this one.”

“Like he was raised by wolves.” Bobby agreed.

Dean watched them laugh together, than eye him with disapproval. Dean lifted his hands and his eyes grew wide.

“Shit, what? I brought her here didn’t I.” he said. “I could have left her in a fucking parking lot with a shit load of demons, she’s the one they wanted by the way. But I didn’t, and got a bruised ass and my fucking car seat ruined for my goddamn trouble.”

They were both silent as Dean ended his tirade, Bobby’s thick brows narrowed with irritation.

“Well there you have it.” Bobby said. “My fucking hero. Damn Dean, can’t you see this girl—I’m sorry, what’s your name sweetheart?”

“Oh, I’m Martha.” They shook hands while Dean rolled his eyes. “Dr. Martha Jones.”

“Well, Dr. Jones, I’m Bobby, and you’re more than welcome here. The bathroom’s in the back, just go straight down the hall.”

She smiled gratefully and hurried past him. Dean began to follow and was blocked by Bobby’s large frame.

“What the fuck?” Dean said. “Damn Bobby, I’m tired.”

“That’s a shame. Cause you’re gonna move that car of yours round back first. I ain’t havin’ no beat cop tearing up the place cause he spotted that damn thing. Might as well wear a t-shirt that says arrest my dumb ass.”

Dean looked at his car, then back at Bobby.

“It’s black.” He said. “And it’s nighttime.”

Bobby shook his head, and jerked his thumb backwards.

“Get going.” Bobby said, backing up in the house. ‘And come in the back way, I don’t like using the front door. Damn nosey shits next door, always watching.”

Dean opened his mouth, but was greeted with a slammed door in his face.

“Okay, then.” He breathed, giving a resigned nod. He slowly descended down the stairs, and stopped beside his car, running his hand over the black hood.

“Don’t listen to him baby...” he cooed. “He’s just pissed off cause he’s old.”


 

The Doctor

As the TARDIS hurtled through space, once again to some unknown location, The Doctor’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the sonic screwdriver clutched in his hand. He knew it was why he’d been taken back to The Library, the TARDIS wouldn’t have started up again otherwise. What he didn’t know was why.

It was beginning to wear on him, this existence in the unknown. He had to get a handle on things, find away to take control of the matter. Otherwise, he might never get a chance to search for Martha, find her like he promised.

He’d never broken a promise to Martha Jones, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“We have to stop it.” The Doctor said abruptly. Sam’s eyes, which had been locked on the power source, drifted back to his. The boy awestruck and he couldn’t blame him, really. The TARDIS was a powerful, magical thing, it still had the ability to render him speechless at times. But at this moment, it was on the verge of driving him mad.

“We can’t keep at this, I’ll never find her.” The Doctor said.

He could feel Sam watching him as he pushed away from the consol, his eyes scanning the interior of the ship, until falling on the mallet he’d tossed in the corner.

“Yes, that’s it.” The Doctor said as he rushed to pick up the tool. He stuck the screwdriver in his pocket, and clutched the mallet with both hands.

“What’s that for?’ Sam said wearily. The Doctor smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just trying a new approach—must always be flexible about such matters.”

“You’re going to hit it? With that?”

“Just a nudge really, she won’t feel a thing. Don’t worry, do it all the time. Very enjoyable actually. More for me perhaps. Ah well.”

Sam shook his head.

“Look, I know nothing about fixing stuff; I can’t even change the oil in my brother’s car. But something tells me hitting shit might be the wrong way to go.”

The Doctor dangled the mallet from his fingers, allowing it to swing at his side.

“Do you have a better suggestion?” The Doctor said.

“Yeah, let it get to where it’s going.” Sam said.

“And what if where it’s going is the middle of a large star on the verge of going nova, what then young Sam? The TARDIS is quite a sturdy little ship, but even she can’t withstand those kind of temperatures.”

Sam shifted slightly, considering his words. The Doctor swung the mallet up, holding it in front of his face, eyeing Sam speculatively.

“Still squeamish about the hammer?” The Doctor said. Sam’s chin tilted up slightly, before looking back at the glowing console.

“We should take our chances.” Sam said finally, his jaw set. The Doctor smiled and tossed the hammer to the floor.

“Oh, I like you.” The Doctor grinned.

“Alright, young Sam, we do it your way. Who knows how long she’ll go though, I once spent two years roaming around a planet that had been dead for six. Nothing but rocks and Tistle creatures, disgusting little things those…”

“What are…” Sam’s words cut off as they felt the TARDIS come to an abrupt stop. Their eyes met and The Doctor rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“How about it Sam. Want to see where she’s taken us?”

Sam gave him a tentative smile.

“Yeah, sure.” He said, and the Doctor bounded off the platform, and pushed the door open. His grin faded abruptly and was replaced by a frown, which was then followed by a loud groan.

“London? “ The Doctor said, grasping a chuck of hair on the top of his head. “Of all the,.. why here? I was just here…”

“We’re in London?” Sam said from behind him. His eyes took in the busy street, the houses surrounding them. “I’ve never been to London, never been overseas at all. Dean’s such a pussy about flying…wait, we’re on Earth. It brought me back home, right?”

“Not exactly, I don’t think it brought you anywhere.” The Doctor said. His hand reached inside his pocket, resting on the screwdriver, which felt warm to the touch.

“We’re here because of me, it has to be. But why? What’s here that I need—hold on.”

He took a few more steps away from the TARDIS, staring down the street. “I know this place, I’ve seen that house before. I’m not sure, but I think….”

“Well it about time you showed up!”

The Doctor shook his head as the familiar voice called out from a few feet away.

"I been waitin’ for weeks, you said you’d be back here in a day, one day! How in the bloody hell does a man with a time machine get behind schedule, it’s a time machine.”

The Doctor felt his body lean back involuntarily as Donna Noble approached him. She carried two large bags, which were likely filled to the brim with items she didn’t really need. Her long red hair was tossed around her shoulders by the wind as she slung one of the bags at his chest, causing a rush of air to escape his lips.

“Too heavy?” she asked. “Means you should eat more. Skinny as a rail this one.”

She spun around, stopping short as she spotted Sam’s lanky body standing in front of the TARDIS.

“Who is that?” She said, her eyes widening with interest. The Doctor grunted over the weight of the bag, shifting it to one side.

“That’s Sam.” The Doctor said. Donna turned to look at him, her lips parting with delight.

“Can I have him?”


 

Martha

“A time machine?” Bobby said.

Martha nodded, then took another sip of scalding hot tea. She didn’t care that it burned her tongue, she was finally getting warm, and welcomed any form of heat she could grab hold of.

They all sat at an old wood table in the den, a fire raging behind them. Bobby had given her a large button down flannel shirt and a pair of sweat pants to wear, the only thing in the house with a drawstring he’d said. She’d thanked him profusely, and donned the loose clothes, realizing how ridiculous she probably looked, but too cold to care.

Dean sat beside her, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, a cold beer in hand. He was tired as well; she could see the circles under his eyes. Though she was sure that had just as much to do with his missing brother as with a lack of sleep.

“And you think Sam is traveling with your friend…what was his name again?”

“The Doctor.” Martha said, avoiding what she was sure was a mocking glance from Dean. “It’s just The Doctor. I was traveling with him when this green light appeared.”

“This is the same light that was in your car?” Bobby asked Dean. Dean shrugged and took a swig of his beer.

“Maybe.” He said. Martha sat up a bit straighter, focusing on Bobby.

“I saw a green light and came here. So it’s perfectly reasonable to assume…”

“Assume.” Dean said sharply, forcing her to look at him once more. “You’re making assumptions, but you don’t know that for a fact. My brother could be anywhere, he could be in some hell dimension for all we know.”

Martha shook her head.

“I just don’t think…”

“It doesn’t matter what you think!” Dean yelled, slamming the beer down on the table.

“ Sam’s gone. You guys can sit here and talk about time machines and flying doctors, but he’s still fucking gone.”

Bobby put a hand on Dean’s arm, but he shook him off. Dean eyed both of them for a second, then ran a hand over his face.

“I’m goin’ to bed.” Dean said, then turned away, not looking back as he climbed the long staircase.

“He’ll be okay.” Bobby said to Martha. She’d watched Dean walk away, and couldn’t help feeling concerned.

“He’s pretty upset.” She said. “I know I would be if Tish…that’s my sister, if it were her…”

Bobby nodded, taking a drink of his own beer.

“Yeah, Dean’s had it rough with the family thing; Sam’s all he’s got left.”

“Really?” Martha said, leaning slightly closer. “Where are his parents? I mean…if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Bobby said. “That boy upstairs might get pissy about it, but you should probably know since it seems like you’re gonna be dealing with him for a while.”

Martha started to protest, tell him The Doctor would probably be here any minute, but she stopped herself. He hadn’t shown up yet, which she knew meant he must have his own issues to deal with as well. She knew he’d never leave her behind, not intentionally.

Martha had called home as soon as she’d changed out of her clothes and left a message on her mother’s answering machine, explaining where she was. Even if The Doctor couldn’t find her immediately, her mother would know that she was here, in America. And Sam was on the TARDIS, she truly believed that despite what Dean had said. He had to be. Otherwise…

Dean’s pain filled expression flashed in her mind.

“What happened to his family?’ she asked. It was Bobby’s turn to become grim.

“They were killed.” He said. “Both of them, by a demon.”

“At the same time?”

“No.” Bobby shook his head. “His mom died when he was a boy, but his daddy died just a few years back. There’s more to the story, but that’s all I feel comfortable discussing.”

“Understood.” Martha said, then looked up at the staircase once more.

“He doesn’t believe me.” She said.

Bobby smiled.

“You blame him?”

She smiled back.

“Not really. But you do. Why?”

“I’m old.” He said. “I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime. I know better to dismiss things offhand, that’ll get you killed in our line of work.”

“And what’s that, your line of work, I mean.”

“Hunters.” He said, taking another long drink. “Dean, Sam, and me, we’re all hunters. Only instead of huntin’ deer, we hunt down all the evil shits that wanna fuck with this world. Like the ones fucking with you.”

Martha nodded, playing with a loose thread on her shirt.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. Martha was quiet for a moment, before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I think I may have to.” She said.


 

Dean

He held the Colt in his hand, the metal of the gun cool against his skin. His father’s gun, his gun now. His and Sam’s.

“You really like those things.”

Dean looked up to see Martha standing in the doorway, her small curvy figure dwarfed by the large pants and shirt. His shirt, though he didn’t bother to tell her that.

Dean rose from his position on the bed and set the gun on the dresser.

“If by things, you mean guns, then yeah. I like breathing too, they kinda go hand in hand.”

She shook her head.

“Not true, I’ve survived several life and death situations without those. “ She said, eyeing the dresser warily. “I don’t like them at all, actually.”

Dean picked up The Colt again, walking towards her. He saw her eyes flicker with apprehension, but she stayed still, her body not moving an inch.

“This isn’t just a gun.” Dean said. “This was my father’s. He gave it to me because he knew it could kill a demon, stop em cold. Only thing that can besides an exorcism.”

She eyed the weapon with renewed interest, as he knew she would.

“What’s so special about it?” she asked.

“It was made by a hunter” Dean said, flipping the gun sideways, showing her the engraving carved into the metal. “Samuel Colt made it in 1835. Only damn history lesson I can ever remember. It kills anything, everything. And it’ll kill whatever’s after you.”

Her eyes met his.

“I’ll kill whatever’s after you.” he said.

Their eyes held for a moment, before she looked away, dropping her gaze back down to The Colt.

“That engraving…” she said. “That’s in Latin, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean said.

Her hand reached out and traced the letters, and she leaned in closer, the fresh smell of soap invading his senses. His eyes traced over her face, drifting down to the smooth brown skin of her neck, before he brought them back down to the gun.

“Yeah.” He said again, clearing his throat. “It says...”

“I will fear no evil.” She finished for him. A small smile reached his lips.

“Jesus, you’re just like Sam.” He said. She looked up at him.

“Really? Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Yeah, it is. But you look a hell of a lot better in that shirt than he does.”


 

Ruby

“You made me sad. I don’t like to be sad, my face get’s all red and ugly. Like yours.”

Ruby glared at the empty street in front of her, arms crossed over her thin body, her eyes gleaming with hatred. Lilith’s voice grew louder inside her head, and she flinched, the sound creating an agonizing headache.

“It was your fucking idea to stick him with the girl. He’s so busy being all big and shit, protecting her ass, he won’t let me near him.”

“Try harder.”

“I did try. He wants my damn head. You really think he’s gonna let me whisper sweet nothings in his ear? And as long as he has that Colt...”

“Take it from him.”

“Just like that, huh?” Ruby paced on the dirt road, running a hand through her thick blond hair. “This shit is insane, I should be looking for Sam, not trying to suck up to his brother.”

“The brother is among the stars…”

“Say what?” Ruby said.

“He travels with the man with no name.”

“Man with…fuck, Sam really did a number on you didn’t he? Cause you’re sounding all kinds of wonky…”

“Take it from him.” Lilith said sharply. “Or I’ll get angry. And then you’ll burn, like before.”

Ruby was silent as the fog lifted from her brain, signaling that Lilith had closed the door between dimensions. She sighed and sunk down the ground, putting her chin in her hands

“I fucking hate kids.” She pouted.